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

by Jenny Gardiner

  “Now that we’ve eliminated bike riding from the schedule, our entertainment options are a bit limited what with it being off-season, but I think there’s one putt-putt golf we can go to, if you’re game,” Emma said.

  “Putt-putt golf?”

  “Hardly Saint Andrews in Scotland, I’m afraid, but it’s a fun diversion,” she said. “Then we can take a walk on the beach, before it gets too cold.”

  She turned into the parking lot of Blackbeard’s Treasure Hunt and pulled into the very first space.

  “Looks like we won’t have to wait in line at least,” Caroline said, noting there were exactly no other cars in the lot.

  A pimply-faced teenage boy with dark hair combed directly over his eyes so as to obscure himself from the world took their money while they all selected putters and golf balls.

  “Guys against the girls? Or should we pit couple against couple?” Darcy asked.

  “Most decidedly couples,” Adrian said. “We’re going to kick your bony—.”

  “Now, now, no need to get sassy,” Emma said. “Even though we are so totally gonna kick your asses.” She smiled at Adrian. “Didn’t think it was particularly regal for you to be saying such things, but I, as a card-carrying member of the masses, am entitled to charming colloquialisms like that.” Adrian gave her a little shove in protest of her mockery.

  Adrian proved to be masterful at his short game, putting away shot after shot with barely a backward glance. Emma, it turned out, wasn’t so bad either. “Dad made me take golf lessons when I was little.” She scrunched her nose. “I didn’t have the patience to keep up with it, but it works for putt-putt.”

  Darcy’s putting skills were pretty good as well, but Caroline whacked the ball this way and that, rarely making it into the hole without a good eight attempts, and most of her balls ended up going over walls and into water traps. Four times she had to hunt for the thing. It was lucky the place was empty or she’d likely have downed a couple of victims with her wayward balls.

  “It’s a good thing you’re beautiful,” Darcy said to her. “Because if you had to rely on your golf skills to get by, you’d be a goner.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said, laughing. “I never claimed I was any good at this game!”

  “Put her in a fifty-yard dash and she’d leave you in the dust,” Emma said, coming to her defense. “Plus she makes a mean photographic assistant.”

  “Yeah, flirting with her subjects,” Darcy said.

  “I was not flirting with my subjects!”

  “You mean to tell me that look you gave me that night at the reception, sizing me up, that wasn’t flirting? I felt like a pork chop before a starving dog.”

  “You weren’t meant to see that! That was for my eyes only. Well, sort of.” She winked at him and swatted him on the butt.

  “You American girls,” Adrian said, shaking his head jokingly.

  “You mean we American girls whose mommies don’t force us into marriage with someone?” Caroline said in a taunting singsong voice.

  “Ouch!” Emma said. “She got you there.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “Let’s ignore that comment. I’m trying to forget about that.”

  “And you’re succeeding quite well, mate,” Darcy leaned over and whispered to him. “From the look of things.”

  “Most certainly,” he whispered back. “But for a bad case of blue balls, I’m good to go.”

  Darcy burst out laughing.

  “What?” the girls both asked, looking mistrustful of the guys.

  “Nothing, nothing at all,” Adrian said. “It’s your shot, Emma.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The foursome finished off the day at one of the few waterfront restaurants still open in the off-season.

  They decided to splurge on a bottle of champagne with dessert.

  Once the flutes were all filled, they raised their glasses.

  “I promise you the last thing I expected when I agreed to that Library of Congress photo shoot was to take on a royal stowaway,” Emma said. “But I can honestly say I’m so very glad you kidnapped me and forced me into royal subjugation.” She laughed as she spoke.

  Adrian leaned over and whispered into her ear, “That might have happened had I had five more minutes this morning, love. But give me time.”

  “Yes. Give him time, Em,” Darcy, clearly a master eavesdropper, said. “He loves to subjugate his, er, subjects.”

  Emma blushed.

  “That was not meant for your ears, my friend,” Adrian said.

  “Just trying to up your chances, mate.”

  Adrian squinted at him. “Thanks. I think I can handle this on my own.”

  “Uh, hello! We are sitting right here and can hear everything you’re saying, you know,” Caroline said. “Honestly. Men.” She shook her head in dismay.

  Adrian reached over to reassure Emma, who was seated next to him, and clasped her hand, twining his fingers with hers. It was so unexpected but felt so right, Emma decided she didn’t want to be a naysayer right at that moment, so she held on tight.

  “So what say you to a moonlight stroll on the beach after dessert?” Emma asked.

  “Sounds perfect,” Darcy said, glancing over at Caroline with swooning eyes. He looked like a Labrador waiting for his supper.

  After Adrian paid the check with Darcy’s credit card, they drove to a secluded section of beach that Emma knew well.

  “This is a place I used to walk along with my grandmother,” she said. “It’s far enough away from the houses that it doesn't attract the tourist crowd. I love how it makes you feel like it’s your very own island or something.”

  She decided not to make any jokes about Adrian probably actually owning his very own island, and instead they began to walk. At first they walked four astride, but soon the couples split off, with Darcy wrapping his arm around Caroline to ward off the December cold, and Adrian then doing the same.

  “Don’t think this means you’re getting anywhere with me, buddy,” Emma said.

  “Not to worry, I know I’m up against an impenetrable army of man-fear,” he said.

  “When you put it like that, it sounds sort of silly.”

  “Gee, you think?”

  “Remember back when we’d all go skinny dipping in the ocean?” Caroline said. Big mouth.

  “And you and that Teddy—”

  “So, how’d the stock market close today?” Emma said, trying to change the subject.

  “Nice try. We want more information! Caroline’s got dirt on Emma,” Darcy said, singing that last part. “Come on, spill.”

  “Nothing to spill,” Emma said. “Yet another in a long list of losers.”

  “Oh, come on, Ems,” Caroline said. “We had fun, even if he was a jerk. I mean it’s not your fault he was two-timing you!”

  “Thanks, Caro. Feel free to toss in a few more ingredients in the ‘Emma’s-a-loser’ soup.”

  Adrian stopped and pulled her closer. “You are not a loser, Emma. Teddy is the loser. Or was the loser. I don’t know if he’s lived to be a better man. If anything, you were the winner for not having been stuck with the likes of him.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Absolutely. It’s all a matter of perspective. When someone imposes something bad on you, that isn’t a reflection on you —it only looks badly on them. I don’t doubt that it hurt your feelings but to let it change your mind about every man out there seems nuts.”

  “Nuts, eh?”

  “Indeed. In fact, I think you should make up for it by skinny-dipping with me.”

  “Skinny dipping? Are you mad? In case you didn’t get the memo, it’s Christmas time! That water would kill you in about two seconds.”

  “Um, hate to disagree with you, Ems, but what about the Polar Bear Swim?”

  Caroline and that big, fat, oversharing mouth of hers.

  “First a guy named Teddy. Then a polar bear swim?” Darcy asked. “You got something for ursines?”

  “No, I hav
e no bear fixation. But yeah. Emma and I did a polar bear swim when we were in college. We came down here over New Year’s, and on New Year’s Day we joined about fifty other brave souls and took the plunge.”

  “You took the plunge and you didn’t die, then?” Adrian asked, chuckling. “And it’s even colder in January.”

  “As a matter of fact it was quite refreshing. Especially considering the hungover state we were in.”

  “Hungover, were you?” Adrian continued. “In that case, I’d say it’s practically expected of you as a host to show your guests a good time. If you can do it half-drunk in the dead of winter, with a bunch of strangers, then surely you can with your good friends. On the count of three.”

  Adrian began to peel off his clothes, with Darcy hot on his heels.

  Caroline soon joined in, wincing at her friend’s lacerating glare.

  “When in Rome?” she said, shrugging.

  Before she knew it Emma was surrounded by three naked people, who were encircling her and taunting her to not be a weenie. And while Emma wasn’t one to succumb to peer pressure, she had to admit the circumstances were a little unusual. It’s not every day you had a future king and his right-hand man both naked as the day they were born, demanding that you strip your own clothes off for the cause.

  “Oh, all right. Fine,” she said as if someone was persuading her to eat Brussels sprouts against her will. “But when we did it last time, at least we had bathing suits on to keep us warm.”

  “No worries, darling,” Adrian said. “You’ll have me to keep you warm.”

  “He clearly hasn’t considered he’s going to be awfully busy keeping a certain part of his own self warm,” Caroline said.

  Emma started to laugh and Adrian helped lift off her sweater and unzip and pull down her jeans. ‘Now we’re talking.’ He gave her a thumbs-up, and she couldn’t help but feel she was swimming against the tide. In very frigid water.

  The four of them held hands along the shoreline and counted to ten, and ran as one to the ocean.

  “Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” Darcy shouted, gasping as he hit the water.

  The girls just screamed and squealed. Adrian was the only one to dive underneath a wave, and came up shouting.

  “If only the queen could see you now,” Darcy said, laughing.

  “On so many levels it would not be good,” his friend said. “But that’s what’s so perfect about this. I’m me. Doing my thing. Without rules, without a palace, without bodyguards. I’m free!”

  And it was then that Emma really understood how much fun it might not be to be owned by the state, or a family, or whoever it was who might impose their unacceptable standards on you. And to truly appreciate that she had the freedom to live as she pleased, even if she made stupid mistakes, like skinny-dipping in the Atlantic Ocean in December.

  “Uh, guys, I don’t know about you, but things are starting to turn numb on me,” she said.

  Adrian came up to her and pressed his ice-cold flesh to hers. “Then let’s warm you up.” He rubbed her body with his arms and pressed himself against her so they were sandwiched as one. And then he leaned forward and kissed her, hard, pulling her mouth toward him and kissing her as if it was the most important thing he could do in the world.

  And at that very moment, Emma knew she only wanted to be a part of whatever this thing was. Even if it couldn’t ever go anywhere, at least she had the chance to live it while she could. It no longer made sense to live now for what might happen later. How stupid was that? She had a hot (well, cold) naked man in front of her at this very minute who wanted only her. Who was she to decide that was a bad idea?

  When they came up for air, the two of them looked to their right, to see that Darcy and Caroline had made it to the wet, hard-packed sand along the shoreline and were rolling around in the sand like a couple of very happy canines.

  “So much for Caroline playing hard to get,” Emma said as the freezing waves crashed against them. “I don’t know about you, but I need to warm up. You’re doing as fine a job as possible under the circumstances, but I think body heat plus some warm clothes, maybe a fireplace, and absolutely no ocean water involved, is in order.”

  “Only as long as you promise I get to sleep in the pink palace tonight,” Adrian said.

  “Well you’re not sharing my folks’ bedroom,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Come on, let’s warm up!”

  They wedged their cold, wet bodies into their clothes, even though clothes never seemed to want to go on over wet skin. Caroline moaned and complained that she was perfectly fine warming up the way she had been just minutes earlier, despite a near-Siberian wind chill factor.

  “Yeah, well you two can warm up at the Loggerhead Inn,” Emma said. “I presume you’ll be able to get some extra blankets, being that you’re the only guests.”

  “Heh. We won’t need blankets to keep us warm,” Darcy said, giving Caroline that look. The one that would have made Emma roll her eyes, except she had the very thing on her mind, with one slightly bedraggled but nonetheless quite handsome prince.

  “I just thought of something,” she said to Adrian. “I can call you the Prince of Tides, now that we took our ice plunge into the Atlantic. Get it? Tides? Ocean?”

  They all roundly booed her bad joke, and Adrian simply urged her to get a move on it, heat blasting, as they dropped their friends off at the hotel.

  Except that as Darcy and Caroline were about to get out of the car and their friends speed away in anticipation, Darcy’s text dinged. Make that Adrian’s text dinged, in Darcy’s pocket.

  Darcy and Adrian groaned in unison.

  “Please, no,” Adrian said as Darcy pulled out his phone and looked at the message.

  “Oh, boy. You’re going to love this one,” he said to his friend and began to read:

  “Adrian, it’s me, Serena. We need to talk. It’s sort of urgent. Name the place and I’ll be there. I can’t wait a minute more.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  They were faced with an awkward dilemma, starting with what the bloody hell would Adrian say to her? She was no doubt going to tell him how desperately she wanted to marry him, and that he might as well yield to it because it was all but signed, sealed and delivered. Another problem was that he was supposed to be incommunicado. But if she spoke with him, then couldn’t she find out where he was? And how awful would that be?

  After a few minutes’ debate, Adrian and Darcy decided it best for them to text a reply, telling Serena he could talk with her when he got back home. Whenever that was. Though with Christmas approaching, it was going to have to be sooner rather than later. Which made Adrian sad to realize that would be the end of his ever-so-enjoyable little escape from reality.

  A few minutes after sending the message, she replied.

  “Adrian, we have to talk now. It’s urgent, it really cannot wait. Please, tell me where you are and I can meet you.”

  Adrian told her that was simply impossible, and that he’d let her know as soon as he returned. At that point, he turned off his phone, slipped it in his pocket, and they bade good night to their friends.

  ~*~

  They beelined to the glowing fireplace the minute they returned to the beach house. Emma’s mother was engrossed in some documentary about Prince Edward and Wallis Simpson on BBC America, undoubtedly only further reinforcing that Adrian must think her and her mother to be some strange Euro-groupies intent on delving into a world in which they entirely didn’t belong.

  “Do you mind my asking what you’re watching, ma’am?” Adrian asked, making small talk.

  “Oh, it’s a scandalous story about Wallis Simpson. Do you know about her? Of course you must, being a British royal scholar and all. Why, that woman dug her claws into that man and ruined him,” she said, wringing her hands at it.

  Adrian chuckled at the academic commendations being bestowed upon him erroneously. “I’m sure I have heard of her somewhere along the way.” His mother constantly warned him to avoid tho
se types of foreigners who were after a quick entrée into royal society, not to mention bank vaults. If he’d heard it once he’d heard it a thousand times how badly he needed to marry one of his own. What that never explained was what if you didn’t love one of ‘your own’? Then what?

  Adrian and Emma stood face to face by the fireplace rubbing each other’s arms, trying to warm up. Only then did her father look up briefly from his book—yet another World War II story, a subject she thought he’d probably read until there was no more information to glean. But it was his obsession. That and tacky wide-wale corduroy pants. Tonight he donned bright green ones with embroidered red Santas on them. She figured if there was any question about whether Adrian would stick around with her family, this would send him packing right back to his small Mediterranean principality, stat.

  “Where’s Adrian’s little fellow?” Ellen asked.

  Only her mother would refer to a man’s former “boyfriend” like that.

  “They’re staying at a motel not far away,” her daughter said. “They insisted on not putting us out.” She couldn’t imagine juggling all the lies if everyone was under the roof the entire time.

  “And here I was looking forward to a little slumber party!” she said. She looked at them and frowned. “You know you two look a little wet.”

  Well. No one thought about having to explain away that one.

  “Um, yeah,” Emma said. “We got caught in a small rain shower.”

  “Rain shower?” he mother said. “I thought it was crystal clear out when I looked up at the sky earlier!”

  “Indeed,” Adrian chimed in. “Strange sort of weather system. Just rolled in off the ocean and that was that. Maybe you needed to be right on the water’s edge to get it?”