Prince of Fools (House of Terriot Book 3)

by Nancy Gideon

  They both took long swallows. Colin bumped against him. "I'm really over this discussion. How 'bout you?"

  "Totally."

  "Do you need a hug?"

  "Not from you."

  A chuckle. "So, how are things going with the locals?"

  Grateful for the change in topic, Rico filled him in on his observations and inroads with the New Orleans patrol. Leaving out the fact that one of the males under his command was Amber's brother.

  Chapter 10

  Amber started cleaning up out of habit while Evangeline talked and giggled with Pearl and four other girls from school, doing the rote busy work to distract from the fact that Colin and Rico were behind closed doors. Both Mia and then Cale had exited, the brothers remaining alone, out of sight but not out of anxious mind.

  She looked away from those tempting stairs as Evie raced over, expression flushed with excitement.

  “Mom! Mom, Mrs. LaRoche invited us girls over to the spend the night! Can I go?”

  Protective caution surged out of habit. “I don’t know, Evie. You don’t have any of your things.”

  Susanna LaRoche, her boss’s mate and head physician at the local clinic where she did research for the benefit of their kind, approached to put her mind at ease. “I know its last minute but Pearl is having such fun, I hate to see it end. The girls can borrow my tee shirts and camp out in the living room. I’ll make sure they don’t eat too much junk or stay up too late.” Pretty much what Rico had said the other night.

  “Please, please, please!”

  Time to let go, just a little bit. “Okay. But I don’t have a way to get her there.”

  “She can ride with me,” Susanna offered. “I’ll bring her home in the morning, after breakfast.”

  “Can I, Mama?”

  “If you promise to behave.”

  “I will!” She started toward her friends in a hurry then turned, racing back to fling her arms about her mother.

  This. This moment made everything worth it. All the sacrifice. All the anxiousness. All the pain. Amber clutched tight. Then let go. Evangeline shoved the letterman’s jacket she’d worn for her performance at her.

  “Could you give this to Rico for me? And tell him thanks! See you tomorrow!”

  Hugging the jacket the way she had her little girl, Amber’s gaze follow Evie across the room where the mixed-aged gaggle of friends swallowed her up and carried her away.

  A familiar scent distracted her from the bittersweet separation. One that swirled through memories long forgotten and fiercely forced away. Warily, as if it presented a danger of inestimable consequence, she lifted the coat to her face, inhaling.

  “Hey.”

  Rico’s voice startled a guilty jump. He didn’t believe her forced smile for a second.

  Brows lowering, he quietly asked, “What’s wrong?”

  A nervous laugh. “Nothing. Just something silly.”

  He waited patiently for her to explain.

  She passed him the jacket, her hands trembling and sweaty. When he took it from her, his fingertips brushed hers, the heat and intentioned tenderness steadied her world.

  “Evangeline’s going to Pearl’s for a sleepover. It’s her first. I told you it’s silly. A mom thing.”

  His smile froze in place. “I wouldn’t know.” Then, he warmed again. “Let’s get your mind off it. I’ll take you home. Or would you rather stop someplace?”

  Whether the anxiety or the temptation gave her that abrupt push, Amber heard herself saying, “Your place?”

  His expression blanked. A blink. Then eyelids lowered into long, glittering slits. “Sure. You ready?”

  A two-edged question. She’d been ready since the first time she’d laid eyes on his sexy self, standing so alone and lonely at her counter. Ready for opportunity to present itself and caution to take a holiday.

  “Yes.” For anything and everything.

  Before she could change her mind, he angled to place his palm at the center of her back, his hip bumping hers. “I’ll drop this off, then we’ll go.”

  He steered her over to where Evangeline’s crush, Oscar, stood with his mom, a petite and attractive dark-haired female, who greeted Rico with a bright smile. Rico and Oscar fist and elbow bumped then he passed the varsity jacket to her with his thanks.

  His arm scooped loosely about Amber’s waist while Tina exclaimed, “That was your daughter, wasn’t it? She’s very talented.”

  Before Amber could thank her for the compliment, Rico did the introductions. “Tina, this is Amber. Amber, my sister, Tina Babineau and my nephew, Ozzie.”

  Babineau.

  “What a pleasure to meet you.”

  Amber must have made some response, but she couldn’t hear it over the roaring in her ears. She lifted confused eyes to the Terriot prince. “Sister?”

  “We share the same father,” he told her, explanation terse, expression tight until Oscar bubbled over enthusiastically.

  “You guys rocked! I didn’t know you had moves like that off the basketball court, Uncle Rico.”

  “Some moves a fellow keeps to himself.” His teasing remark sizzled with private innuendo, his arm hitching her in close. “I’ll tell Evie you thought so.” While the teen reddened, he added, “See you guys. Tell Mr. Law and Order thanks for the loan,” then executed a perfect evasive move, using his hip as a pivot to steer Amber toward the steps. There, he helped her into her coat, palms smoothing the well-worn material along her arms. Amber didn’t look up, afraid he’d see the agitation in her eyes and think it had something to do with him.

  Almost to the door. Her heart knocked harder than the engine on LaRoche's big Caddy. Only a few steps before she was committed beyond the chance to turn back.

  Rico pulled up suddenly. "Have you met my brother?" He started turning them both back toward the room.

  "Your king? I've seen him, but I don't think we've spoken."

  "C'mon. Let's catch him before he leaves."

  She dug in her heels, panic now fueling her hurried pulse. A prince was one thing. But a king! "No, no. Don't bother him."

  A quizzical look. "Bother him? You don't think he'd want to thank you for what you did for our family?"

  What could she say? I didn’t do it for your family. I did it for you?

  She moved at his side rather stiffly, the brace of his forearm propelling her forward when anxiety had her knees trembling. From a distance, Cale Terriot wasn't imposing. Short, with a scrappy brawler’s attitude, he was nowhere near as physically intimidating as the other Terriots, until his stare connected. Cool, gray-green eyes were razor sharp. He started assessing her the second he noted his brother's hand on her hip, narrow look giving little away as his head tipped in question.

  "Cale, I want you to meet Amber James."

  A thin, non-committal smile. "I've seen her behind the bar, but we've never been introduced."

  That one-sided curve said he wondered why Rico thought her worth mentioning.

  "She was the one who took us in after Colin was injured. She opened her house to us so we could keep him alive. I thought you might want to know."

  The fierce spark in Rico's eyes and quiet steel of his tone brought Cale's brows up a notch. When the Terriot king looked her way again, reevaluation was followed by a genuine smile. "Ahh! Colin and Mia mentioned you, said you were a . . . friend of Rico's, and of theirs. And now, of mine."

  When he reached out, she started to extend her hand and was unexpectedly pulled into a firm embrace. Against her ear, he whispered, "Thank you for protecting my family. Come to me if there's anything I can do for you. There's no limit on what they're worth to me."

  "I didn't do it for reward," she replied softly, pushing away, careful not to betray the insult burning deep inside.

  Cale grinned wide. "If I thought you did, I wouldn't have offered."

  While Rico looked between them, puzzling over the inaudible exchange, Cale clasped his shoulder. "I was about to have one or two for the road. Join me?"


  Before Amber's hopes could plunge, Rico's arm snugged her up closer. "Another time. Got places to go."

  An astute glance between them. Cale nodded and stepped back. "It was nice meeting you, Ms. James."

  As Rico steered her toward the door again, he asked, "What did he say? Something to upset you?"

  "Just like you said, he wanted to thank me."

  He'd wanted to see if she was a gold-digger out for his family's money. And she couldn't blame him. But Terriot money wasn't the attraction. It was the sultry smile she received when they got to the bike and Rico fit his helmet on her head. And the way he pulled her arms tightly about his body before they left the lot. No amount of prestige or money could compare to what she held onto.

  Her every fantasy in the flesh.

  The startled look in Cale's eyes when he considered the two of them together taunted her. What made her so different than his brother's usual choice of female? The fact that she worked for a living? That she wasn't of their clan, their status, their circle? That she wore bargain clothes and colored her own hair, couldn't afford a car or a dishwasher? That she had a child and a secret she wouldn't share? That she wasn't in any way, shape or form worthy of him?

  But for tonight, he was hers, trapped been the squeeze of her thighs as the bike's vibration buzzed through her system to jump start what was waiting. Just the two of them, alone.

  * * * * *

  Their ride up in the elevator was silent. They stood close but not touching. A good thing since the mere brush of his fingertips at the small of her back as he guided her to the door began an expectant chain reaction. She tried to tell herself it wasn't like they hadn’t already slept together. There'd be no surprises waiting, just anticipated pleasures.

  Only this time, it wouldn't be ménage â trois. The memory of Mia Guedry wouldn't be in the sheets with them.

  Was that what she was so afraid of? That without the specter of his former lover, their union would be somehow lessened? That she wouldn't be enough?

  No more time to angst over it. He keyed his door and guided her inside the darkened room. A switch flooded the gigantic space with painfully bright illumination. No dark shadows or alcohol fog to disguise who was beside him.

  He shed his coat and helped with hers, turning away, intention to hang them up when he asked, "Can I get you something? A drink? Something to eat that's not cake frosting? A movie, some music?"

  "Rico."

  She didn't know if it was her use of his nickname for the first time or the sudden huskiness of her voice that had him twisting around in question. Amber moved quickly, before courage failed her, twining her arms about his neck, whispering, "Just you," as she pulled him down to her parted lips.

  Coats dropped to the lush carpet. His hands touched lightly at her waist as they kissed slowly, deeply. Indescribable pleasure zinged through her.

  He lifted just far enough to read the urgency in her dark eyes, murmuring gruffly, "Okay then."

  He bent to take her mouth again. His clever tongue got involved, blowing all her circuits of self-control with its aggressive play. The taste of him . . . bourbon with a birthday cake chaser. Strong, sweet and irresistible. His hands got busy, pulling loose the ends of her good silk blouse, smoothing over bare skin like a steam iron, hot yet careful not to linger anywhere long enough to burn. Too late. She was already on fire.

  He lifted off her lips, leaving her gasping as he asked, "Where to?"

  Since the couch already held the stigma of coitus interruptus, she suggested breathlessly, "Let's take things next door."

  He reared back, eyes round and wide. "To the neighbor’s?"

  Horrified, Amber amended, "I meant behind closed doors."

  "Oh? My mistake."

  He grinned, making her laugh away her tension. And perhaps, she wondered, because he had some uncertainty of his own? She wasn't his usual after birthday cake date, after all.

  Before she could get all anxious over that, he swept her off her feet quite literally and started for the bedroom.

  "The only nice thing about living alone is there's no need for closed doors."

  When anticipation over where things were going warred with worry over where they might end, Amber shut down her thoughts to just feel. The hard bunch of power in his arms. The quick tattoo of his heartbeats. The delicious sense of weightlessness. The hot, familiar scent of him teasing up her nose like a rich, full-bodied brew. She wanted to wake up to that stirring aroma every day for the rest of her life.

  Face nestled against the side of his neck, she could taste the hurried beat of his blood. Royal blood.

  A prince in the House of Terriot.

  For tonight, the prince who could make all her dreams come true. Tomorrow could take care of itself.

  The huge bedroom had the unlived in look of daily maid service. A fleecy area rug warmed the glossy hardwood floor. No personal affects topped acres of drawer space. Drapes and slick bedspread gleamed in patterns of deep gold and burgundy. A bed huge enough to sleep all her close personal friends at one time, tonight would host just the two of them.

  Ambient lighting left no room to hide as Rico settled her on the edge of the mattress without a bounce or creak. He went down to one knee on the fluffy rug, slipping off her dressy boots and giving them a toss to the far corners of the room. He grinned up at her.

  “Just in case you were considering a quick getaway.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  Her husky reply quickened a smolder in his eyes as he rolled down her knee highs and shot them like rubber bands, one landing on the dresser, another clinging to the ornate crystal topper on the lamp. She started to laugh, but his warm palms cupped her heels, strong fingers massaging the stressed muscles of her feet to morph the sound into a low moan.

  “You should have someone do this for you every night.”

  Feeling reckless, she teased, “Are you volunteering?”

  Lids drooped over gleaming eyes. “Maybe.”

  Her swallow was inordinately loud.

  Rico turned his attention to one foot, lifting it to nibble her toes, holding tight as reflexive spasms made her leg jump and tremble. The suggestive licking and sucking that followed went straight to the juncture of her thighs, pooling hot and heavy until she fisted a hand in his hair to pull back his head so she could ravage his mouth.

  While she kissed him, hungrily, deeply, he went for the opening of her slacks, rising to tip her back so he could peel everything below the waist off her. He pulled her toward him abruptly, hands behind her knees, settled her calves on his shoulders. She fell back on the bed as he dragged her to the edge of the mattress and her self-control.

  “You should have someone do this for you every night, too.”

  He buried his face between her legs.

  Shock disappeared the second he planted his mouth and began wreaking massive havoc on her nervous system. Lips tugging at hers. Tongue swirling, flickering, stroking, plunging deep until she clawed at the luxurious spread, her head tossing frantically.

  Rico drew back slightly, breath blowing over moist flesh, making her twitch and groan before he seized that tender little throb of passion to apply merciless suction. In a matter of seconds, she shuddered wildly and keened his name. Rico.

  Slowly, he rocked back on his heels, drawing damp lines with his tongue along quivering thighs, hands rubbing jerking muscles gently until she lay still, panting quietly. Slowly, her eyes opened, dazed by sated pleasure. She smiled.

  “That was amazing,” she whispered.

  “Good. Now we can talk.”

  Chapter 11

  “Talk?” she gaped up at him. “You want to talk? Now?”

  Rico came up to ease along the slippery spread, stretching out beside her. He smiled to quiet the fear jumping in her lovely dark eyes, not sure what put it there, but tired as all hell of seeing it every time they got close. That had to end.

  Her breath hitched when his fingertips nudged under the hem of her blouse, fol
lowed this time by a cautious little inhalations.

  “What better time? I’ve got you to myself, all relaxed and obliging.”

  The change in her was subtle as a snake coiling before a strike. No rattles yet, just that taut, gathering readiness. What had happened to this sweet, strong female to put that kind of wariness in her eyes?

  “Have I done anything to make you afraid of me?”

  She pondered his quiet question for a long time before replying, “No. I don’t think you’d ever purposefully hurt me.”

  A wry twist to his smile at how cagily she covered her insult. How well she knew his reckless handling of fragile things he didn’t understand. But at least she credited him with not doing it out of meanness.

  To turn her silky attack upon her, he asked, “Who has?”

  He didn’t think she was going to answer but finally said, “It was a long time ago.”

  “Time doesn’t necessarily mean distance, Amber. That’s something I do understand. You know I care about you and Evie. You know I would do anything to protect you and keep you safe.”

  Again, that bland, “I know,” that said she didn’t think he’d succeed.

  His fingers worked the front clasp of her bra, snapping it open so his palm could cover one full breast. How hard her heart hammered into his hand. The stroke of his thumb tightened its crest, breaking the rhythm of her mistrust as she involuntarily pressed up against him. He played with that taut peak, silent, concentrating on her until he felt her relax and respond.

  Rico rose onto an elbow, settling over her soft lips for a long, lingering kiss, no tongue, just varying pressure from light suction to deep, searching slants. Amber’s hand fit the back of his head and neck, kneading and gently tugging his hair as she made quiet, yearning sounds in her throat. She gasped, not realizing he’d opened her blouse until his mouth lowered to pay equal attention to her other breast.

  “Rico.”

  Just his name and everything shivered loose inside him.

  He rose, meaning to speak some bit of foolishness that was banging around in his chest when she gripped him by the shoulders, bowling him over onto his back so she could straddle him, reaching for his zipper as he tugged off his shirt. Thrashing legs had his loose pants down to his ankles by the time she took him inside and squeezed like a tight, hot fist. If she’d moved, he’d have blown as wildly as an uncapped oil well. She smiled down at him smugly, beginning a small lift when he clasped her hips to hold her still.