Sarah Morgan - Princes Waitress Wife

by Sarah Morgan

  It was as if her brain and body separated. For a single instant, she forgot that she was about to make a giant fool of herself. She forgot about Eddie and his trophy blonde. She even forgot the royal party.

  The only thing in her world was this man.

  And then her knees weakened and her mouth dried because he was insanely handsome, his lean aristocratic face a breathtaking composition of bold masculine lines and perfect symmetry.

  His dark gaze shifted to her mouth, and the impact of that one searing glance scorched her body like the hottest flame. She felt her lips tingle and her heart thumped against her chest.

  And that warning beat was the wake-up call she needed.

  Oh, God. ‘Your Highness.’ Was she supposed to curtsy? She’d been so transfixed by how impossibly good-looking he was, she’d forgotten protocol. What was she supposed to do?

  The unfairness of it was like a slap across the face. The one time she absolutely did not want to be noticed, she’d been noticed.

  By Prince Casper of Santallia.

  Her horrified gaze slid back to the tissue in his hand. And he knew she was upset. There was no hiding.

  ‘Breathe,’ he instructed in a soft voice. ‘Slowly.’

  Only then did she realise that he’d positioned himself right in front of her. His shoulders were wide and powerful, effectively blocking her from view, so that the rest of his party wouldn’t see that she was crying.

  The problem was, she could no longer remember why she’d felt like crying. One sizzling glance from those lazy dark eyes and her mind had been wiped.

  Shrinking with embarrassment, but at the same time relieved to have a moment to compose herself, Holly took the tissue and blew her nose. Despair mixed with fatalistic acceptance as she realised that she’d just given herself a whole new problem.

  He was going to complain. And who could blame him? She should have smiled more. She should have paid attention when the bored-looking blonde seated to his right had asked her whether the goat’s cheese was organic.

  He was going to have her fired.

  ‘Thank you, Your Highness,’ she mumbled, pushing the tissue into her pocket. ‘I’ll be fine. Just don’t give me sympathy.’

  ‘There’s absolutely no chance of that. Sympathy isn’t my thing.’ His gorgeous eyes shimmered with sardonic humour. ‘Unless it’s sympathy sex.’

  Too busy holding back tears to be shocked, Holly took another deep breath, but her white shirt couldn’t stand the pressure and two of her buttons popped open. With a whimper of disbelief, she froze. As if she hadn’t already embarrassed herself enough in front of royalty, she was about to spill out of her lacy bra. Now what? Did she draw attention to herself and do up the buttons, or did she just hope he hadn’t noticed…?

  ‘I’m going to have to complain about you.’ His tone was gently apologetic and she felt her knees weaken.

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  ‘A sexy waitress in sheer black stockings and lacy underwear is extremely distracting.’ His bold, confident gaze dropped to her full cleavage and lingered. ‘You make it impossible for me to concentrate on the boring blonde next to me.’

  Braced for an entirely different accusation, Holly gave a choked laugh. ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘I never joke about fantasies,’ he drawled. ‘Especially sexual ones.’

  He thought the blonde was boring?

  ‘You’re having sexual fantasies?’

  ‘Do you blame me?’ The frank appraisal in his eyes was so at odds with her own plummeting opinion of herself, that for a moment Holly just stared up at him. Then she realised that he had to be making fun of her because she knew she wasn’t remotely sexy.

  ‘It isn’t fair to tease me, Your Highness.’

  ‘You only have to call me Your Highness the first time. After that, it’s “sir”.’ Amused dark eyes slid from her breasts to her mouth. ‘And I rather think you’re the one teasing me.’ He was looking at her with the type of unapologetic masculine appreciation that men reserved for exceptionally beautiful women.

  And that wasn’t her. She knew it wasn’t. ‘You haven’t eaten your dessert, sir.’

  He gave a slow, dangerous smile. ‘I think I’m looking at it.’

  Oh God, he was actually flirting with her.

  Holly’s legs started to shake because he was so, so attractive, and the way he was looking at her made her feel like a supermodel. Her shrivelled self-esteem bloomed like a parched flower given new life by a shower of rain. This stunningly attractive, handsome guy—this gorgeous, mega-wealthy prince who could have had any woman in the world—found her so attractive that he wanted to flirt with her.

  ‘Cas.’ A spoiled female voice came from behind them. ‘Come and sit down.’

  But he didn’t turn.

  The fact that he didn’t appear willing or able to drag his gaze from her raised Holly’s confidence another few notches. She felt her colour mount under his intense, speculative gaze, and suddenly there was a dangerous shift in the atmosphere. Trying to work out how she’d progressed from tears to tension in such a short space of time, Holly swallowed.

  It was him, she thought helplessly.

  He was just gorgeous.

  And way out of her league.

  Flirting was one thing, but he had guests hanging on his every word—glamorous women vying for his attention.

  Suddenly remembering where she was and who he was, Holly gave him an embarrassed glance. ‘They’re waiting for you, sir.’

  The smooth lift of one eyebrow suggested that he didn’t understand why that was a problem, and Holly gave a weak smile. He was the ruling prince. People stood in line. They waited for his whim and his pleasure.

  But surely his pleasure was one of those super-groomed, elegant women glaring impatiently at his broad back?

  Her cheeks burning, she cleared her throat. ‘They’ll be wondering what you’re doing.’

  ‘And that matters because…?’

  Envious of his indifference, she laughed. ‘Well—because generally people care what other people think.’

  ‘Do they?’

  She gave an awkward laugh. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you care what other people think?’

  ‘I’m a waitress,’ Holly said dryly. ‘I have to care. If I don’t care, I don’t get tips—and then I don’t eat.’

  The prince lifted one broad shoulder in a careless shrug. ‘Fine. So let’s get rid of them. What they don’t see, they can’t judge.’ Supremely confident, he cast a single glance towards one of the well-built guys standing by the door and that silent command was apparently sufficient to ensure that he was given instant privacy.

  His security team sprang into action, and within minutes the rest of his party was leaving the room, knowing looks from the men and sulky glances from the women.

  Ridiculously impressed by this discreet display of authority, Holly wondered how it would feel to be so powerful that you could clear a room with nothing more than a look. And how must it feel to be so secure about yourself that you didn’t care what other people thought about your actions?

  Only when the door of the President’s Suite closed behind them did she suddenly realise that she was now alone with the prince.

  She gave a choked laugh of disbelief.

  He’d just dismissed the most glamorous, gorgeous women she’d ever seen in favour of—her?

  The Prince turned back to her, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous. ‘So.’ His voice was soft. ‘Now we’re alone. How do you suggest we pass the time?’

  CHAPTER TWO

  HOLLY’S stomach curled with wicked excitement and desperate nerves. ‘Thank you for rescuing me from an embarrassing moment,’ she mumbled breathlessly, desperately racking her brains for something witty to say and failing. She had no idea how to entertain a prince. ‘I can’t imagine what you must think of me.’

  ‘I don’t understand your obsession with everyone else’s opinion,’ he drawled. ‘And at the moment I’m n
ot capable of thinking. I’m a normal healthy guy, and every one of my brain cells is currently focused on your gorgeous body.’

  Holly made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. Disbelieving, self-conscious, but hopelessly flattered, she stroked her hands over her skirt, looked at him and then looked towards the door. ‘Those women are beautiful.’

  ‘Those women spend eight hours a day perfecting their appearance. That’s not beauty—it’s obsession.’ Supremely sure of himself, he took possession of her hand, locking her fingers into his.

  Holly’s stomach curled with excitement. ‘We’re not supposed to be doing this. They gave me this job because they thought I wasn’t your type.’

  ‘Major error on their part.’

  ‘They told me you preferred blondes.’

  ‘I think I’ve just had a major shift towards redheads.’ With a wicked smile, he lifted his other hand and carelessly fingered a strand of her hair. ‘Your hair is the colour of a Middle Eastern bazaar—cinnamon and gold. Tell me why you were crying.’

  Caught in a spin of electrifying, exhilarating excitement, Holly’s brain was in a whirl. For a moment she’d actually forgotten about Eddie. If she told him that her boyfriend had dumped her, would it make her seem less attractive?

  ‘I was—’

  ‘On second thoughts, don’t tell me.’ Interrupting her, he lifted her hand, checking for a ring. ‘Single?’

  Detecting something in his tone but too dazed to identify what, Holly nodded. ‘Oh yes, completely single,’ she murmured hastily, and then immediately wanted to snatch the words back, because she should have played it cool.

  But she didn’t feel cool. She felt—relieved that she’d left the engagement ring at home.

  And he was smiling, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her.

  Before she could stop him, he pulled the clip out of her hair and slid his fingers through her tumbling, wayward curls. ‘That’s better.’ Very much the one in control, he closed his fingers around her wrists and hooked her arms round his neck. Then he slid his hands down her back and cupped her bottom.

  ‘Oh.’ Appalled that he seemed to be focusing on all her worst features, Holly gave a whimper of embarrassment and fought the impulse to wriggle away from him. But it was too late to take avoiding action. The confident exploration of his hands had ensured he was already well acquainted with the contours of her bottom.

  ‘Dio, you have the most fantastic body,’ he groaned, moulding her against the hard muscle of his thighs as if she were made of cling film.

  He thought she was fantastic?

  Brought into close contact with the physical evidence of his arousal, Holly barely had time to register the exhilarating fact that he really did find her attractive before his mouth came down on hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

  It was like being in the path of a lightning strike. Her body jerked with shock. Her head spun, her knees were shaking, and her attempt to catch her breath simply encouraged a still more intimate exploration of her mouth. Never in her life had a simple kiss made her feel like this. Her fingers dug into his shoulders for support and she gasped as she felt his hands slide under her skirt. She felt the warmth of his hands against her bare flesh above her stockings, and then he was backing her against the table, the slick, erotic invasion of his tongue in her mouth sending flames leaping around her body and a burning concentration of heat low in her pelvis.

  He was kissing her as though this was their last moments on Earth—as if he couldn’t help himself—and Holly was swept away on the pure adrenaline rush that came with suddenly being made to feel irresistible.

  Dimly she thought, This is fast, too fast. But, even as part of her analysed her actions with a touch of shocked disapproval, another part of her was responding with wild abandon, her normal insecurities and inhibitions dissolved in a rush of raw sexual chemistry.

  Control slipped slowly from her grasp.

  When Eddie had kissed her she’d often found her mind wandering—on occasions she’d guiltily caught herself planning meals and making mental shopping lists—but with the prince the only coherent thought in her head was Please don’t let him stop.

  But she had to stop, didn’t she?

  She didn’t do things like this.

  What if someone walked in?

  Struggling to regain some control, Holly gave a low moan and dragged her mouth from his, intending to take a step back and think through her actions. But her good intentions vanished as she gazed up at his lean, bronzed features, her resolve evaporating as she took in the thick, dark eyelashes guarding his impossibly sexy eyes. Oh, dear God—how could any woman say no to a man like this? And, if sheer masculine impact wasn’t enough, the way he was looking at her was the most outrageous compliment she’d ever received.

  ‘You’re staring at me,’ she breathed, and he gave a lopsided smile.

  ‘If you don’t want men to stare, stay indoors.’

  Holly giggled, as much from nerves as humour. ‘I am indoors.’

  ‘True.’ The prince lifted one broad shoulder in an unmistakeably Latin gesture. ‘In which case, I can’t see a solution. You’ll just have to put up with me staring, tesoro.’

  ‘You speak Italian?’

  ‘I speak whichever language is going to get me the result I want,’ he purred, and she gave a choked laugh because he was so outrageously confident and he made her feel beautiful.

  Basking in warmth of his bold appreciation, she suddenly felt womanly and infinitely desirable. Blinded by the sheer male beauty of his features, and by the fact that this incredible man was looking at her, her crushed heart suddenly lifted as though it had been given wings, and her confidence fluttered back to life.

  All right, so she wasn’t Eddie’s type.

  But this man—this incomparably handsome playboy prince who had his pick of the most beautiful women in the world—found her irresistible.

  ‘You’re staring at me too,’ he pointed out, his gaze amused as he slid his fingers into her hair with slow deliberation. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we both just close our eyes so that we don’t get distracted from what we’re doing.’

  ‘What are we doing?’ Weak with desire, Holly could barely form the words, and his smile widened as he gently cupped her face and lowered his mouth slowly towards hers.

  ‘I think it’s called living for the moment. And kissing you is the most fantastic moment I’ve had in a long time,’ he said huskily, his mouth a breath away from hers.

  She waited in an agony of anticipation, but he didn’t seem in a rush to kiss her again, and Holly parted her lips in expectation, hoping that he’d take the hint.

  Why on earth had she stopped him?

  With a faint whimper of desperation, she looked into his eyes, saw the laughter there and realised that he was teasing her.

  ‘That isn’t very kind, Your Highness.’ But she found that she was laughing too and her body was on fire.

  ‘I’m not kind.’ He murmured the words against her mouth. ‘I’m definitely not kind.’

  ‘I couldn’t care less—please…’ She was breathless and trembling with anticipation. ‘Kiss me again.’

  Flashing her a megawatt smile of male satisfaction, the prince finally lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his. He kissed her with consummate skill, his touch confident and possessive as he drew every last drop of response from her parted lips.

  Her senses were swamped, her pulse accelerating out of control. Holly was aware of nothing except the overwhelming needs of her own body. Her arms tightened around his neck and she felt the sudden change in him. His kiss changed from playful to purposeful, and she realised with a lurch of exhilarating terror that this wasn’t a mild flirtation or a game of ‘boy kisses girl’. Prince Casper was a sexually experienced man who knew what he wanted and had the confidence to take it.

  ‘Maybe we should slow this down,’ she gasped, sinking her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders to give extra support to her
shaking knees.

  ‘Slow works for me,’ he murmured, sliding his hands over the curve of her bottom. ‘I’m more than happy to savour every moment of your utterly delectable body, and the game hasn’t started yet. Why rush?’

  ‘I didn’t exactly mean—oh—’ her head fell back as his mouth trailed a hot, sensuous path down her throat ‘I can’t concentrate on anything when you do that—’

  ‘Concentrate on me,’ he advised, and then he lifted his head and his stunning dark eyes narrowed. ‘You’re shivering. Are you nervous?’

  Terrified. Desperate. Weak with longing.

  ‘I—I haven’t actually done this before.’ Her whispered confession caused him to still.

  ‘Exactly what,’ he said carefully, ‘Haven’t you done before?’ He released his hold on her bottom and slid his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him, his sharply intelligent eyes suddenly searching.

  Holly swallowed.

  Oh God, he was going to walk away from her. If she told him the truth, this experienced, sophisticated, gorgeous man would let her go and she’d spend the rest of her life regretting it.

  Was she really going to let that happen?

  No longer questioning herself, she slid her arms back round his neck. She didn’t know what was going on here, she had no idea why she was feeling this way, but she knew she didn’t want it to stop. ‘I meant that I’ve never done anything like this in such a public place.’

  He lifted an eyebrow. ‘We’re alone.’

  ‘But anyone could walk in.’ She wished he’d kiss her again. Would he think she was forward if she kissed him? ‘What would happen then?’

  ‘They’d be arrested,’ he said dryly, ‘And carted off to jail.’

  ‘Oh—’ Reminded of exactly with whom she was dealing, Holly felt suddenly intimidated. Please, please, let him kiss her again. When he’d kissed her she’d forgotten he was a prince. She’d forgotten everything. Feeling as though she were standing on the edge of a life-changing moment, Holly gazed up at him and he gave a low laugh.

  ‘You talk too much, do you know that? So—now what? Yes, or no?’ He smoothed a rebellious strand of hair away from her flushed cheeks in a slow, sensual movement, and that meaningful touch was enough to raise her temperature several degrees.