by Mindy Neff
Still holding Emily’s hand, Chelsa moved to the balcony. Like the one off her room, it looked down on the elaborate gardens and water fountains of the main square. The palace was laid out in a U-shape. Massive gates, too far away to see, were normally open to visitors, but Antonio had assured her that while she was here, the main gates would remain locked and guards would monitor all comings and goings.
Another reminder that she was disrupting their royal lifestyle—possibly putting them all in danger.
“I’m not sure the two of you should be out here on the balcony by yourselves.”
“The king said so, too, and put the kitty box in the bathroom, but it stinked so Sophie and me took it outside.”
“The king?” Good night. She’d totally fallen down on her motherly duties. She had no idea who all her kids had interacted with.
And a king handling kitty litter? Oh, dear. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your desire to keep the room clean and sweet smelling, but promise Momma that you won’t go outside alone anymore.”
She hated that she had to give the reminder. Hated the solemnness that came over the girl’s faces. She bent, gathered them both in her arms and kissed them. “I love you both so much. I just want to be able to look at you all the time. Forgive me for being overprotective.”
“We love you, too,” Emily said.
“I forgive you,” Sophie said, though she didn’t know for what.
Tears backed up in Chelsa’s throat. She cleared them away and stood. “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
The minute they opened the bedroom door, the animals darted out and a mad race ensued.
“Oh, no, not again.” Forgetting her lectures on decorum, Chelsa hiked up the hem of her dress and sprinted down the hall. With a quick word of caution tossed over her shoulder to the girls, she led the way down the sweeping staircase, the three of them sounding like a herd of stampeding elephants.
A maid peeked out a door on the second-floor landing and smiled. Chelsa offered a hasty apology. It wasn’t until her feet touched marble that she realized she’d forgotten to put on her shoes. But she didn’t have time to agonize over that right now. There were animals to be caught.
She literally slammed into Antonio as she rounded the corner into the dining room.
He chuckled, steadying her. Mortified, she realized the whole family was there. Isabel held the baby, Briana had snagged the puppy and King Marcos held the cat.
Sophie and Emily caught up and bumped into Chelsa, sending her all the way into Antonio’s arms.
With the royal family looking on in various degrees of curiosity and speculation, she wished for a nice big hole to open up and swallow her. Her face flamed. Her ponytail was knocked askew. She reached up and tried to fix it. Antonio batted her hands away and pulled out the ribbon, letting her hair fall wildly around her shoulders.
“Good morning, querida. I love a woman who makes an impressive entrance.”
She actually growled—albeit under her breath. But Antonio heard and laughed. And suddenly Chelsa saw the humor in the scene. She must have looked a sight. Laughter tickled her stomach and throat and she swallowed repeatedly. Gathering her poise and dignity, she turned to the occupants of the room.
“Please forgive me for running in the house.” The statement was so absurd. Briana was the first to shout with laugher, and Chelsa simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. If it weren’t for Antonio’s steadying hand, she might have fallen over as her shoulders shook. And the more she thought about it, the harder it was to sober up.
It wasn’t until she got a good look at King Marcos’s face that she finally found the strength to rein in her mirth.
“Oh, Your Majesty, I do apologize. Here, let me take the cat.”
“Sit,” he ordered gruffly, stroking Señor Gatito between the ears. Both king and cat looked perfectly content in one another’s company—though both were doing an adequate job of pretending otherwise.
Chelsa wasted no time in obeying, determined to restore her dignity. With a practiced look, she silently admonished the girls to mind their manners. She wanted them next to her where she could reach them, but they both streaked around to the other side of the table closest to Briana and the king—and the rowdy animals.
With the practiced eye of a mother who knows her children well, she saw the disaster coming.
Sophie hopped into the chair and nearly pulled the tablecloth off. Joseph’s quick hands saved the heirloom china. Emily huffed and nudged her sister—a little too hard—and Sophie fell out of the chair.
The queen refereed, Briana’s laughter pealed and Chelsa rested her face in her hands, resisting the urge to peek through her fingers to see what calamity would occur next.
Antonio’s hand on her thigh made her jump as though she’d been goosed.
She looked at him, at those sexy dimples and killer smile. “Please tell me your family’s suffered disruptions like this before.”
His grin widened. “Not many.”
She groaned. “I was afraid of that.”
Before she could formulate another apology, Raquel swept into the dining room, a camera slung around her neck. It was the strangest thing, Chelsa thought. There was no discomfort or covert looks over the fact that Raquel had been chosen and groomed to be Joseph’s princess. Nothing to suggest there’d been intimacies between them, or jealousy on Briana or Cole’s part. Then again, Antonio had mentioned that the heiress and Joseph had rarely spoken. Well, they all seemed easy enough with one another now.
And Chelsa had to wonder about her stereotypical images of just how a princess-in-training was taught. Looking at Raquel, it was obvious that the rules were much looser nowadays than she’d imagined—Raquel was wearing another of those skintight outfits that exposed her middle. Although her pregnancy was in the very early stages, Chelsa wondered if the heiress would be the next celebrity to pose for Vanity Fair in all her pregnant splendor. She was gutsy enough.
Cole followed his wife into the room.
The girls, thank heavens, were distracted by the beautiful newcomer and her adoring husband, and now sat like picture-perfect china dolls. Pride swelled in Chelsa’s chest.
King Marcos scowled at Cole, then glanced pointedly at the camera around Raquel’s neck. “I thought we discussed my views on photographs of the young prince.”
“You discussed, dear,” Isabel interrupted smoothly. “We’ve overruled.”
Speechless, he stared at his queen—then gawked in masculine bewilderment at both Briana and Raquel when each woman added their comments.
“Joey is a perfect photographic specimen,” Briana said, reaching over to stroke her son who cooed contentedly in his grandmother’s arms.
Marcos nearly went into a fit over the prince being called Joey...and a specimen.
“And, Your Highness,” Raquel added, snagging a slice of bacon out the silver service dish on the sideboard, “baby Joe is not the only sweet face in this room. Chelsa’s daughters are also on my list—provided I can talk their mother into agreeing.” She took a bite of bacon, which apparently didn’t agree with her newly pregnant constitution, and set it aside.
The king obviously knew when he was licked. “Now why would anyone in this room think Mrs. Lawrence’s opinion would count for anything? My own, as king, does not.” He stood and grumbled a parting shot. “I will call a meeting on the merits of men controlling their women.”
Antonio prudently held his grin until his father left the room. Then he leaned close to Chelsa. “Do you think he noticed that he took Señor Gatito with him?”
Chelsa pressed her lips together. “Maybe he intends to separate the animals to restore some order.”
“Could be.”
“I’m surprised at your mother contradicting him in front of the family. I thought that sort of thing was reserved for pillow talk.”
“Used to be. Until he tried to force Joseph to marry Raquel. Mother threw a fit, packed her trunks and left.”
“She left him?”
“Only for a while. Just long enough to talk sense into Briana.”
“Oh. How sweet.”
“Don’t let her hear you call her sweet. She likes to give the impression she’s tough. She does an excellent job, too. Scares me right down to my toes.”
“Antonio,” Queen Isabel said, pitching her voice to be heard down the vast length of the table. “The rest of us are reluctant to converse for fear of intruding upon your conversation. Would you care for privacy?”
“What an excellent idea, Mother. I was just about to suggest that I show Chelsa around Valldoria.”
“That is a lovely idea. The two of you enjoy yourselves. I will supervise the photographing of the children.”
“Oh, no,” Chelsa objected. “I can’t impose on you all to baby-sit.”
“Nonsense. You are not imposing when we have offered. There is much beauty to see in our land, but I fear the niñas would become bored before you could do your tour justice.”
Antonio watched the expressions flit across Chelsa’s face. He’d tossed out the first thing that came to his mind lest his mother’s comment about privacy had embarrassed Chelsa. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to show her his country.
Privately.
He wanted to watch her expressions, the quick, easy smile that often became stifled beneath her burdens. There were hidden facets to this woman that drew him.
She caught him off guard merely by walking into a room. That wholesome, Earth Mother aura touched him, and he’d simply find himself arrested by the sight of her, distracted.
Charmed.
He couldn’t remember any woman having such an effect on him, and he’d squired many—movie stars, models, heiresses, even a Russian princess.
Yet this Southern belle moved him, made his heart beat faster and his stomach turn to mush.
He’d seen the way his father looked at the queen, how Joseph looked at Briana, how Cole couldn’t keep his gaze off Raquel. Happy couples, all of them. Content.
It made him envious...and maybe a little uneasy.
It also made him uneasy that his family kept looking at him as though he’d had extensive plastic surgery and they no longer recognized him. So, okay, maybe he was a little different, but it was only temporary—just until Chelsa was in the clear and able to live the normal life she deserved.
Yes, a day of sightseeing would be good for them. It would also get them away from the speculative eyes of his family.
He scraped back his chair and stood, gallantly holding out his hand to Chelsa. “What do you say, bella? Will you trust me as tour guide?”
“Is it safe?”
Their gazes locked and an emotion he couldn’t decipher flickered in her lake-blue eyes. Was she remembering their exercise in trust? Remembering what he’d said about trusting him with her safety but not her heart? Her question could easily apply to both. Especially after last night.
But they still had an audience and he chose to take her question at physical value.
“Just covering the palace grounds will take most of the day, and the perimeter is well guarded. As for the children, with my mother and Briana and Raquel present, they’ll be surrounded by an army of bodyguards.”
Raquel, overhearing this, thought to object. She glanced at her husband. “Really, Cole. I understand the necessity of guards, but I will need room to work.”
Cole scowled, yet his love was so evident, it ruined the stern expression. “Don’t give me a hard time, Spitfire. You know I haven’t yet recovered from you walking right into that kidnapping.”
“I held my own just fine,” she said smugly.
While the Martinezes engaged in good-natured bickering, Antonio pulled Chelsa to her feet.
“Believe me, they’ll be well watched,” he said.
Chelsa nodded. “Let me get some shoes.”
This announcement brought everybody’s attention to her bare feet.
In the formal dining room.
Face flaming, she hurried out of the room.
Antonio followed, grinning, thoroughly charmed.
Chapter 13
Antonio decided he really did make a dismal tour guide. He was too busy watching Chelsa to point out the sights. At times she would glance at him, and he sensed that she was a little uncomfortable over the intimacy they’d shared last night and didn’t quite know what to say or how to act. But the beauty of the estate distracted her—and in turn, Chelsa distracted him.
He found himself unable to look away from her.
A butterfly resting on a dandelion delighted her. The breeze in her hair made her pause. And Antonio was transfixed, afraid to look away lest he miss some new and enchanting expression.
And that’s when he knew exactly where he would take her.
Chelsa held her sandals in her hand, preferring to go barefoot, loving the sensual feel of lush cool grass under her feet. They crossed a meadow richly sprouting flowers in golds and lavenders. As they neared a dense stand of trees, the air cooled. The sound of rushing water teased her senses, making her want to explore.
She glanced at Antonio who’d been strangely silent on their walk, his mood thoughtful.
Was he thinking the same thoughts as she was? Nature, in all its glorious splendor was having a field day with her imagination. Two dragonflies connected head to tail sent her memories off on a wild tangent. Bees buzzing around the nectar of flowers and birds calling to their mates all took on sexual connotations in her mind.
Maybe this nature walk wasn’t such a good idea after all.
She was about to suggest they turn back when he touched her waist, guiding her past the shelter of trees. Rather than taking note of their surroundings, she glanced at him. Her heart and stomach automatically flipped. All it took was a touch or look and she turned to mush.
He spoke so easily with his eyes alone. Intimately. A tender look that ignited a fire in her belly. So exclusive. With a mere gaze he brought back all the exquisitely thrilling emotions of their lovemaking. Made her yearn.
He paused and pulled her close to his side. “Look,” he said softly.
She drew in a breath at the sight before her. The grotto was breathtaking. Waterfalls spilled over huge boulders into a serene lake surrounded by ferns and lush vegetation. It was like something out of a travel brochure, like a painting of a place that couldn’t possibly exist.
Yet it did. Paradise.
“Oh, Tony, how can you bear to leave this place? Surely you’ve never found beauty to duplicate this?”
His fingertips toyed with the hair that brushed her shoulders. “I thought you’d like it here. Perhaps it will inspire another water baby adventure.”
She noticed that he easily sidestepped her comment about staying put in one place. And water babies were the farthest thing from her mind right now. The touch of his fingertips, his dark eyes focused on her so completely, the lock of hair that flopped over his forehead, his overwhelming masculinity—all she could think about was him, of them...together.
Good night, she had sex on the brain. What had gotten into her?
Staring into his deep chocolate eyes, she lost her train of thought. What had he said? Oh, yes, ideas for water babies. “Yes.” She had to stop, clear her throat. “Um, it’s inspiring.”
His hand was toying with the strap of her dress now, easing it off her shoulder then back in place. “Does it inspire anything else?”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth for several heartbeats. “Like what?” Dumb question. But it wasn’t the place so much that inspired fantasies. It was the man.
“Ever gone swimming beneath a waterfall?”
“I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Ah, querida, who needs a suit?”
“I’m not going skinny-dipping with you.” What should have come out as a strong statement ended up a weak whisper.
His lips turned up, his dimple creasing. “Why not?”
His gaze swept her, leaving a tra
il of fire wherever it touched. He was speaking without words again. His eyes said he’d seen everything she had. And that he appreciated it... and would like to see it again.
Touch her again.
And oh, she wanted that, too.
Birds twittered in the trees. Foliage rustled in the gentle breeze. Chelsa’s palms began to sweat and the cool rush of water over rocks was having a heyday with her fantasies.
He slipped the strap off her shoulder, pressed his lips to her collarbone, then lower.
And Chelsa was lost. Lost in his touch, in the tender, seductive, exciting man he was.
The fact that they could get caught made the situation more enticing, made her heart beat faster. Dear Lord, where had a thought like that come from? What was the irresistible draw of this man that made her continually want to throw caution to the wind and simply allow herself to be swept away? Made her literally yearn to be swept away.
By this man alone.
Okay, subconsciously, was she looking at him like some prehistoric cave woman might...albeit in a contemporary way? He was a man who could definitely protect her nest, and provide her every heart’s desire—monetarily. Was that the elemental attraction?
His thrill-seeking on the one hand might appear irresponsible, yet the fact that he courted danger—beat it—turned her on. Go figure. Especially for someone like her who prided herself on having her feet firmly planted on the ground.
On the other hand was the life-style. So different from hers. So different than she’d ever even allowed herself to dream. And dangerous. Purposefully dangerous. Seeking that danger even.
In a way he was similar to Rick, gambling on the come line. But life had a way of crapping out. Eventually the dice would turn cold.
And what of her children then? Her girls had lost one father already. Could she do that to them again? Take a chance and lose? Because the loss wouldn’t only affect her. She had an idea that to Emily and Sophie, losing Antonio would be a hundred times more scarring and devastating than losing Rick.