Something in the Heir (It's Reigning Men, #1)

by Jenny Gardiner

“It’s complicated,” Adrian said. “I’m afraid my mother is from the old school, and she’s not particularly interested in keeping up with the times. She’s lost perspective. She has always done as she was told, followed the straight and narrow. She expected the same of me and my brothers and sister. All while watching royalty decline in Europe, with her trying to sustain things they way they used to be. I think it’s been hard for her. Times have changed, the world has modernized greatly. And while within the borders of our island nation, our family is highly regarded and appreciated, certainly in the greater world there are those who would love to see all royal ways disappear. It saddens my mother and I think she blames all this modernity for it. But I think you have an American saying, what is it? You can’t fight city hall? Progress happens, like it or not. I think my mother is coming around to that way of thinking, but ever so slowly.”

  “And not fast enough to allow you to marry whom you choose, rather than the very one you’d least choose?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Can you imagine how aghast your mother would be to know you’re sitting with a commoner in her beat-up Volvo, in your skinny jeans and North Face jacket, munching on a shrimp burger? Poor thing, it would probably kill her.”

  “She’ll have to deal with it.”

  “Not really,” Emma said. “It’s not as if she’s ever going to know about this.”

  Adrian shrugged. “I can’t hide forever. At some point my hand will be forced. And I’m not going to pretend this week never happened. After all, so far it’s turning out to be one of the more entertaining times I’ve had in the past several years.”

  “Really? You’re having a good time?”

  He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “You have to ask me that? I force you to take me with you, then you’re stuck practically going off the grid with me, you’re introducing me to a whole new — and perfectly fascinating — world. How could it be anything but fabulous?”

  Emma thought about that for a second, chewing on a hush puppy while she considered it. “It’s not exactly a yacht off the south of France, you know,” she said. “Or an African safari. Or a few hundred other exciting adventures I’m sure you could be doing instead of experiencing my boring lifestyle, up close and personal.”

  “But it is your adventure that you’ve introduced to me,” he said. “And that makes it —and your life— just about perfect. You’ll never know how much I owe you for this, Emma.”

  “Eh. Owe schmowe. This is my pleasure. I mean, how many people like me get the chance to hang with someone like you?”

  “I could say the same.”

  “Then please, do,” she said, laughing. “But really, I was in a huge funk when you accosted me. Lucky me that you’ve dragged me out of my pouty state.”

  “Pouty? You? You don’t seem as if you have a care in the world.”

  “Trust me, I’ve got cares that have cares.”

  “Name one.”

  Did she really want to start moaning about her boring life to him? How could he even relate to it?

  She let out a sigh. “Oh, I don’t know. On paper I have it great. A wonderful job with lots of flexibility. I meet interesting people, and have plenty of variety in my work. I get access to things most people could never dream of — I mean, look! Twelve hours ago I was photographing royalty with the President of the United States! How cool is that? But I just keep feeling like there’s something missing. I’m twenty-six years old. I’m a veteran of so many bad relationships I could write a country-western album about all the cheaters and reprobates I’ve settled for who couldn’t even be bothered settling for me. Talk about feeling like a reject, when the losers don’t even want you!

  “I guess maybe I’m lonely. I have a nice little house. Wonderful family and friends. A great job that I’m kind of bored with — I always feel like an outsider at someone else’s party when I’m at work. Maybe because I am. But I picked it, so why am I complaining? Especially since I’ve been so successful at it. Weird, isn’t it? Sorry, I prattled on a little more than I ought to have. I should shut up now before I start hearing crickets, huh?”

  She looked over at Adrian, who sat in rapt attention but didn’t say a word.

  “Well?”

  He remained quiet for another minute. Talk about crickets.

  “Okay, then, I guess we’ll head back,” she said, trying to fill dead air.

  “I’m sorry,” Adrian said. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m just processing all that information you gave me. It’s a lot, you know.”

  “Yeah, I have a bad habit of oversharing.”

  Adrian shook. “Not that I’ve noticed, you don’t. And while I haven’t seen the photographs you’ve taken, I have to presume you’re pretty talented. Otherwise you’d never have been hired for the kinds of things you shoot. I can assure you my embassy wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t have complete faith in your skills. So I hope that’s slight consolation, for what it’s worth.”

  Emma shrugged in concession.

  “Believe it or not, in an odd way, I can relate. I think we are both feeling burned out, perhaps unappreciated even? I’ve been doing what I’ve been doing since I had my first spoonful of porridge, I suppose. It’s all I’ve known. And yet, what’s the point? A life of pampered privilege, I go out on these dog and pony show events to promote my country, to put on a happy face. I feel like I’m in a perpetual beauty pageant sometimes. Like I’m a two-dimensional character and no one really cares about me as a person, but just about what they want from me.”

  “Huh.” Emma never gave a thought to the life of a prince being anything but smooth sailing. But clearly there was more to this man than met the eye. “I’d never considered that, but now that you put it that way, yes. It must be hard to know who to trust, like everyone wants a piece of you.”

  “Precisely,” he said. “Like the family heirloom everyone is tugging at because they and they alone want it in the inheritance. But I don’t think very many people have even thought about me as me. Instead they see only me as in famous-prince-whose-presence-can-draw-an-audience,” he said. “But enough about me. Those useless men you mentioned before... What a loss for them! I mean look at you! You’re young and beautiful—”

  Emma snorted. Nice. “Easy on the hyperboles there, fella. Beautiful’s a bit of a stretch.”

  He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. “You really don’t see it?”

  “See what?”

  “You don’t see what a beautiful person you are?”

  “I mean I don’t exactly cause eye strain if someone looked my way, but I’m not up there in supermodel contention or anything. Put it this way: at least I’m not a brown-bagger.”

  Once again Adrian looked puzzled.

  “It’s an awful term. I heard a guy refer to a girl at a fraternity party like that. He’d only take her home if he could put a brown paper bag over her head.”

  “Honestly. Sometimes we men need to apologize for our half of the species,” Adrian said, sighing. “I’ll have to keep that line in mind next time I want to be a royal asshole.”

  Emma burst out laughing. “Get it! Royal asshole? Who knew royalty made jokes like that? Good one!”

  Adrian shook his head to redirect the conversation. “Seriously, Emma, even though you are indeed beautiful on the outside, you’re beautiful in more ways than that. After all, how many people would drop everything they were doing when a crazy man implores them to rescue him from a dire situation? And if those men didn’t see that in you, that’s their shortcoming, not yours.”

  Emma rolled her eyes, not quite buying what he was saying.

  “Fine, don’t believe me. Go ahead and let their idiocy control the way you see yourself, if that’s what you want.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll take that into consideration. In the meantime, you wanna check that thing out?” She was pointing to a sign for the nearby aquarium. “My grandmother used to take me there when I was younger.”

  “Are ther
e sharks?”

  “Why? You scared they might get ya?”

  He laughed. “I’ve always had a fascination with sharks. If it weren’t for my overprotective entourage I’d have loved to have gone diving with sharks in a cage.”

  “Ooooh, how cool would that be? Sign me up.”

  “It’s a deal. Let’s plan on it, you and me together. A shark cage built for two.” He smiled at her.

  “I’ll mark it on my calendar. Just as soon as you return to your other life, you let me know when we’re going.” As if she’d ever be able to afford that! “In the meantime, we’ll have to settle for ogling the local variety from the other side of a glass wall.”

  “Fair enough. But I’ll hold you to it. When I get back, things are going to change. No more Mr. Nice Guy. I’m going to stand up for myself and do what I want to do from here on out.”

  “You might want to keep the Mr. Nice Guy part,” Emma said. “It’s the best part of your personality, if you ask me.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Believe me, it’s not often I’ve come across a guy like you who ought to be completely full of himself, but instead is just thoroughly nice and normal. Even if you don’t exactly know how to use a chef’s knife.”

  Adrian tucked his head down, nodding at Emma. “As members of the mutual admiration society, we’ll just have to enjoy each other’s company more often.”

  Emma smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Too bad it wasn’t going to last.

  Chapter Seven

  Emma’s phone rang as soon as they entered the aquarium. She glanced at the caller and quickly excused herself from Adrian to take the call.

  “I can only talk for a second. What’s up?” she said to Caroline.

  “What are you, nuts? You can’t leave me dangling after that email I got from you!” Caroline said. “I mean you’re kidnapped by this gorgeous guy who was all over you at that reception. All over you! But not just any guy. The guy. The one who’s going to take over an entire country. Like one that’s full of people. And land. And crown jewels stored in a royal vault.”

  “I really can’t talk about this all right now. Adrian’s waiting for me and I don’t want to leave him alone. But trust me, we are just friends. I’m helping the man out. That’s it.”

  “I’m sure that’s what you’d tell your mother but this is me! Let’s talk turkey here. Have you done it yet? What’s he like? Are the rumors true?”

  “Rumors?”

  “Yes, I read in some online tabloid that he’s known to be packin’, if you know what I mean. Apparently an Italian stylist who was dressing him spilled that info. Can you imagine, having access to the royal crotch? Maybe you already have. I guess he’s already heard the jokes about the family jewels. Hilarious! The things you just don’t normally contemplate until you have to.”

  “Uh, can I get a word in edgewise?” Emma said. “I’m not going to ask him about his, his, his girth!”

  “Girth? How do you know it’s not length?”

  “Gah! I can’t believe this conversation!”

  “Meanwhile, what kind of friend are you? Why didn’t you hook me up with that manservant of his? Seriously, though. What are you doing with the guy? What does one do with a prince? Shame it’s December so you can’t take him out on the banana boat ride. Although for all I know you’re having your own banana boat ride right about now...Oh, my God, you are killing me with your silence. Dish, already, would you?”

  “Honey, I haven’t had a chance to say much of anything with you bombarding me with questions. Look, nothing is going to happen. He’s a nice guy. He’s got issues he’s dealing with. And I’m not going to insert myself into all of that. Talk about a non-starter of a relationship. I am going to be content just being friends. And I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to play matchmaker to the stars for you. I’ve been busy.”

  “Fine. But promise me, if you get a chance to put in a good word for me with that blonde one, you know where to find me.”

  “I’d like nothing more than to find you a fresh victim. I mean man. I’ll be sure to give him your number. In the meantime, Adrian’s walking my way. I’m going to hang up now before he hears me talking about his anatomy. Love you, you big idiot!”

  ~*~

  “I love the interactive exhibits where you can actually feel things,” Emma said. “How cool is this, touching a ray with your very hands?”

  “Not exactly sure putting my hands on that thing is high on my list,” Adrian said. “Don’t they sting or bite or something? Isn’t that why they call them stingrays?”

  “Good point. But maybe these aren’t stingrays, maybe they’re some other ray. Ray of light, maybe.”

  “Or ray of hope?”

  “Yeah, I like your optimism. Ray of hope, that sounds perfect.”

  “But I think I’ll let you do all the touching, just the same,” he said.

  “C’mon, don’t be a scaredy-cat. It’s perfectly safe. Do you think they’d let schoolchildren stick their fingers in there if it wasn’t?”

  “You have a point,” he said, but nevertheless started backing slightly away just as Emma pulled him closer. She grabbed his hand and directed it into the shallow water before them.

  “See? Harmless! It’s so smooth, feels a little gelatinous, doesn’t it?”

  “Perfect, just what I wanted to feel: slime.”

  “Watch out for that barbed tail!”

  Adrian jumped back and she started laughing. “Adrian, I am sure they’ve done something to de-barb the thing, or whatever they do to stingrays. They’re not going to let it shoot a poisonous arrow into your face or anything! Oooh, but look over there — my favorite! Sea turtles.”

  They investigated the sea turtles, some of which had been injured by propellers from motorboats, which only made Emma sad. “I think I need to go see something else because I hate to imagine these poor turtles being hurt in the water. It breaks my heart too much.”

  “Shows you’ve got a huge heart, Emma.”

  “Yeah, to match my huge butt,” she said.

  Adrian reached for Emma’s shoulders and turned her around to get a closer look at her point of reference. “Granted you have a winter coat on, but I’m not seeing it,” he said. “From my view it’s just about perfect.”

  Emma blushed and changed the subject.

  “So over here, this is where I got to do a sleepover when I was twelve. My grandmother volunteered here and they had some summer event where kids could come spend the night by the shark tank. It was pretty awesome. We lined our sleeping bags up right here,” she said, pointing to a stretch of flooring nearby, “and I’d wake up just as a shark meandered by. Suffice it to say I didn’t get much sleep that night.

  “And here,” she said, pointing to a nearby bench, “is where I used to eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when I’d come with my grandmother. Sometimes I’d stand right by the glass wall and offer them up to the sharks. They weren’t amused.”

  “Ah, you’re generous, too, I see.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, me offering my sandwich up to Jaws. That qualifies me for sainthood.”

  “You don’t appreciate yourself much, do you?” Adrian asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, every time I pay you a compliment you deflect it instantly.”

  Emma shrugged. “Really? I never thought about it. I guess I’m not used to having people lavish me with attention.” She wound her pointer finger in a circle by the side of her head, indicating what a nutty idea that was.

  “Maybe you’re selling yourself short?”

  “Hardly.” She sighed. “I mean I’m just not the center of anyone’s attention is all. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I’m usually like that planet circling the sun. That bright star is the one getting all the attention, and I’m just sort of along for the ride I suppose.

  “That’s how it goes in life. Besides, I don’t exactly run in circles in which I find possible suitor
s. I don’t go to an office like normal people. Not that you should date work colleagues, but still. And when I do go to work, well, I’m working, not flirting. And not like I can be picking up men while I’m on a shoot. Plus there’s that little problem of me not being an invited guest. It would be tacky, to say the least.”

  “But don’t you do anything besides work where you’d find people?”

  “Of course I go out with my friends,” she said, staring off at a meandering shark streamlining his way toward them. “But it’s not like we’re out there for the meat market aspect. We go to hang out and visit. It would be sort of icky picking up a guy at a bar anyhow. But enough about me. What about you? Where does a prince find eligible young women, aside from meddling mothers, that is?”

  Adrian laughed. “Yes, the mother factor doesn’t help much, does it? It’s complicated. On the one hand — and I don’t mean this as bragging — women are kind of beating down my door to get to me.”

  “Not boastful at all.” She held up her hand, making a circle of her thumb and forefinger, in that symbol for “okay.”

  “You know what I mean,” he said. “But that’s not actually a good thing. It’s not as if anyone is interested in me, per se. Rather they’re interested in landing a prince.”

  “Or at least bedding one.”

  “That too. There was a time when that was all fine and good. After all, who am I to turn that down?”

  “Of course not,” Emma said, shaking her head. “You’re a guy. You’re genetically programmed to take what you can get.”

  Adrian paused to look directly at her. “Thanks for that vote of confidence. You do hold my gender in high esteem, don’t you?”

  “More like I’m a bit burned out in the men department,” she said. “Been there, done that, suffered the rejection.”

  “I’m sorry you haven’t met a man who cherishes you. You deserve that and more.”

  “Tell me about it. I feel like I’ve been a magnet for the worst of the worst. Surely there must be some guy out there who isn’t just crap on a stick?”

  “You have quite a way of describing things,” Adrian said with a chuckle. “I don’t feel qualified to be a defender of all men, but I can assure you we’re not all that bad. Don’t give up yet.”