Royal Baby

by Layla Valentine

  I liked to believe that someday I would find my Prince Charming. I was losing hope on the whole ‘charming’ part, but I could still hold out for an unattractive monarch-in-training. At least I would get to see the world beyond staring at the back of my mother’s head as she dragged me on another business venture. Maybe I’d have an affair with a handsome gardener, or a pool boy.

  I’d had my fair share of bad sexual experiences in my time, usually inadvertently orchestrated by mother dearest. ‘But darling, he’s got such a wonderful personality, and his father is one hell of a looker.’ I’d met the majority of my mother’s employees, and it made me question what the hell she defined as a looker. Someone with eyes, possibly?

  By the time I finally stepped onto the upper deck, I was tired out. I wanted to lie to myself and say that the alcohol had absolutely nothing to do with it, but what was the point? I’d still have to answer to that dreaded hangover in the morning. For now, though, the stars shone brightly in the night sky, and I mused that it would have been a beautiful sight to share with someone.

  I found myself much less enchanted with that thought when I realized that there was someone else sprawled on one of the pool chairs. I couldn’t get a good look at him from where I was standing, and I was tempted to give up on the distant hope of enjoying the remainder of my night. I wasn’t going to let some deckhand ruin my efforts, however, and I certainly wasn’t going to balk at the sight of one of EBgen’s employees.

  I strode across the deck, vaguely aware that the alcohol in my system was making it increasingly hard to keep myself calm and collected. I drew closer to the other person who was slumped in his pool chair, noting that he hadn't dressed in swimming trunks. He had his arm thrown across his eyes, and I could make out the well-formed musculature of his abdomen as I grew close. My mouth dried, and I was certain for a moment that I had found myself lost in some fever dream. As I sat in the seat beside him, I lost all doubt.

  “Funny, seeing you here,” I slurred, cursing myself for how tipsy I was.

  The man drew his arm away from his eyes, quirking a brow in my direction. He looked confused at first; but after a moment, recognition dawned in his eyes and he sat upright.

  “Oh, it’s you. Sorry about nearly running you over earlier today. I was in a bit of a hurry. For what good it did.” The stranger grinned, rolling his eyes.

  I tried to force a smile, but I could feel the booze blues creeping up on me. He watched me curiously, looking almost concerned.

  “I’m Paul, by the way. I wanted to catch your name, but, like I said…” He trailed off, offering me a broad smile. “It must be meant to be, us meeting here like this.”

  “Maybe. I’m having a bit of trouble with things that are meant to be, though,” I muttered, my mouth feeling gummy.

  The man hummed, grabbing a bottle of water from beside him and offering it to me.

  “Want a sip? You sound like you need it. Don’t worry; I don’t have cooties.”

  Hesitantly, I reached out to accept the bottle, and our hands brushed briefly. I felt my cheeks redden, musing that he looked all too pleased with himself. I also mused that it was an unquestionably good look on him.

  I took a long swig from the water bottle, swishing it in my mouth before gulping it down. I breathed a sigh, surprised at just how melancholy it sounded. I had to pull myself together. This cute guy thought meeting me at the pool was fate, and here I was, acting all sad and pathetic.

  “What’s bothering you, sweetheart? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he drawled, taking the bottle back from me.

  Feeling tears begin to pool in my eyes at the memory of what had happened with my mother, I shook my head slightly. There was no way this man could ever hope to understand—but at the very least, he wasn’t one of my mom’s employees. If I let off some steam venting to him, it wasn’t as if he would report it to her.

  “I had a fight with my mom,” I murmured, wringing my hands. “It’s the same old thing. She’s been trying to run my life since I was born, and it just…it finally came to a head.” I met his gaze, and he looked at me curiously.

  “Does your mom work for EBgen? I was under the impression that this ship was rented out for company use,” he inquired softly, taking a sip of his water.

  Distantly, I had the immature thought that the sip was almost like an indirect kiss. My cheeks reddened again, and I cleared my throat, processing his question about five seconds too late.

  “Oh. Oh, you don’t know my mother?” I replied, dreadful uncertainty in my voice.

  Was there truly a man who had not been tainted by my mother’s touch? Metaphorically, of course. There was no way this stud would have banged my mom. Ugh. That was not a thought I wanted to entertain, but, once again, my mother had a way of forcing her way into every facet of my life.

  “I’m afraid not, doll. Should I know her?” he asked, resting his head back and staring skyward.

  I wanted to babble on about what a beautiful night it was and ignore further thoughts regarding Martha Beck. But I knew I owed him an explanation.

  “My mother is Martha Beck. She’s the owner of EBgen, and she’s been trying to groom me into taking over for years. I just…” I trailed off, noticing that he looked stricken. “Is something wrong?”

  Perhaps he was not as untouched by my mother as I had thought. It was a silly notion anyway, for anyone not to know who she was. She was one of the most famous business leaders in the country. I parted my lips, prepared to sputter out an excuse to leave, but Paul simply offered me a warm smile.

  “Not at all, darlin’. I was just surprised. Carry on,” he said nonchalantly.

  “I’m tired of thinking about my mom. Tell me about yourself, Paul.”

  I grinned. He seemed eager to oblige.

  Chapter Five

  Paul

  Jesus Christ, I could not believe my luck. I came up here to plot out my con in peace, and the daughter of the very woman I’m trying to get close to starts chatting me up. Funny how things work out.

  She looked as star-struck as she had before, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. Truthfully, I probably looked a little star-struck to her, too. She was smoking hot, and when I’d almost bumped into her earlier that day, I’d never have guessed she was any relation to that old crow. I’d read up about her, but there had been no pictures, no physical descriptions. Almost as if Momma Beck was trying to protect her little girl from predators.

  It seemed to me that the only predator baby Beck had to worry about was her own flesh and blood, and well…myself, of course.

  I had to acknowledge how well it could work out for the con if I were to get close to this cute little lady. I couldn’t press the issue about her mother any further, though, at least not then. She looked utterly broken by what I could only assume had been some fallout. She asked me to talk about myself, and talking was something that Paul Drake could certainly pull off. He was especially happy to do so when it came to pretty girls with sad, brown eyes.

  “You wanna know about little old me? Hell, there ain’t a whole lot to tell, sweetheart. I’m just a circus performer who managed to land a gig on this ritzy cruise. Have you looked into the entertainment? I can guarantee that you won’t be disappointed, sweet stuff. It’s that real classy type of circus act, the sort with all kinds of acrobatics and such. We’re supposed to get painted up in body paint, the whole nine yards.”

  Pausing, I noticed the enraptured look on her face.

  I quirked my lips into a smile, sitting up and swinging my legs off the side of my chair. Her eyes widened, and I tried to make it clear that I was no danger to her. At least, not for the time being.

  “What’s your name, doll? Here I am talking it up, and I don’t know what to call you.”

  I grinned, reaching out to rest a hand on her knee. She stiffened, and I thought to draw my hand away, but then she rested her hand on top of my own. Her skin was warm and soft, not all callused and dry like my own.


  “I’m Elizabeth. Everyone calls me Ella, though.”

  She smiled, looking coy. Aw, hell, this girl was too much for her own good. I wanted to spit some line about calling her mine, but I figured that would be too much, too fast.

  “All right, Miss Ella. Lovely name, I gotta say. It sounds like something you’d read in some fantasy book. Much better than Paul Drake.”

  I grinned at her again. She giggled softly, brushing her thumb along my knuckles. I pretended to be oblivious to her little touches, but Christ was she setting something inside me on fire.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Paul Drake sounds like a detective to me, or some gritty cop. Ella just sounds like the snooty debutante in a Victorian novel.”

  She grinned back at me, and I had to swallow a bark of laughter. Me? A cop? Maybe in another lifetime. Perhaps in another life, our stories would intertwine past this cruise. At that moment, though, I had to focus on the job at hand. This girl was precious, a real diamond in the rough. As much as I wanted to use her, I was more inclined to treat her like that Victorian debutante she had jokingly claimed to be.

  Call me a sucker.

  I shifted my hand in her grip to properly interlace our fingers, and drew her hand towards my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She blushed prettily, and I had to swallow a very un-masculine sigh.

  “My, my. Mr. Drake, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to sweep me off my feet,” she teased.

  I grinned toothily, relieved to see that she had cheered up, at least a little bit.

  “Well, you’d have to be standing for that, sweets,” I quipped, and she laughed airily before lurching to her feet.

  She swayed from side to side, offering me a cute little smile. You could hear the music from the party on the lower deck, and in spite of myself, I found myself wanting to dance with her. A girl that pretty had no right to be on a ship like this, not when I had a job to execute. But the job could wait till morning, couldn’t it?

  “Dance with me, and sweep me off my feet properly, then, detective,” she requested playfully, continuing to sway from side to side.

  In spite of the business suit she was dressed up in, I found myself picturing every soft curve of her body beneath her clothes. Unable to help myself, a smile spread across my face as I rose out of my chair. I bowed formally, feeling pretty stupid and underdressed for the occasion. Then again, it wasn’t as much an occasion as it was a moment. Our moment.

  God, just a few minutes of talking to this princess, and I was already turning into a sap.

  “I feel like I should be wearing a suit and tie,” I said, standing upright and drawing her in.

  I rested a hand on the crescent of her hip, and she leaned her head against my shoulder, breathing a happy little sigh. It may have been pretty damn stupid, but it made me proud to be the one to cause that little bit of contentment. For a minute, I felt all the more determined to screw over this little bird’s crow of a mother.

  “You don’t need a suit. I like being able to see your muscles,” Ella whispered naughtily, pressing her palm against one of my pecs.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at what a little minx she was being, and I twirled her outward before drawing her in close once again.

  “God, what would my mother think, seeing me dancing with one of the entertainers,” Ella murmured.

  I rumbled a laugh, running a hand through her long chestnut curls. It was downright impressive how she managed to keep her hair so damn pretty after what had likely been a long night of fretting.

  “She would hate it. But that’s all the more reason to do it, am I right?” I teased, my lips ghosting against her ear.

  She giggled airily, falling silent for a moment. She seemed to be contemplating something, so I contented myself with simply holding her as we swayed side to side.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to go to a real circus. The sort with elephants and trapeze artists. Maybe a man who gets shot out of a canon,” she whispered.

  I felt my heart skip a beat, and before I knew it, I was smiling like a madman.

  It was a bad idea, and I knew it. If I showed her every trick I’d learned while on the road, there was a chance she and her mother could tie me to a specific show. My troupe had a certain way of doing things, a certain flair that other circuses seemed to lack. We were also one of the last traveling circuses in the States. We had never had anything as flashy as elephants or lions, but I liked to think we still put on a hell of a show.

  I liked to think I could put on a hell of a show for this lovely little thing. I could blow her mind, show her things she’d likely never seen before. But it wasn’t as if a circus was something super exotic; I was sure she’d been to a dozen circuses and was just feeling a little nostalgic.

  Nothing worth ruining the con over, nothing worth the risk of getting arrested.

  “You mean, you wanna go back to the circus like when you were a kid? You know, it’s funny. Most kids wanted to run away to the circus, but…” I paused, cutting myself short.

  “I’ve never been to a real circus,” she murmured, drawing away to glance at the stars. “I know that sounds horribly sheltered, and truthfully, I’m ashamed to admit how little I’ve experienced. Most of my childhood, I was following my mother around the world on business trips. I went to all sorts of fantastic places, but I never got to enjoy them.”

  She paused, looking self-conscious.

  My heart was pounding in my chest like the herd of elephants she’d never had the chance to see. With every passing minute, I found myself liking Ella Beck all the more.

  “That’s a…shame,” I began, waging an internal war with myself.

  It wasn’t worth the risk. Hell, Ella couldn’t let the old witch control her forever. She’d get her chance to see a real circus, maybe even with my troupe. It wasn’t worth risking my freedom to give this girl a moment of fun.

  When I looked into her eyes, though, and saw just how deep the sadness within them was, I knew I had to do something.

  My mind screamed that I was getting in too deep, but…well. What was a little reward with no risk?

  “Listen, Ella, can you wait here for like…a few minutes? I need to grab something from my room, but I’ll be right back, yeah?”

  She considered me with a fair bit of scrutiny. For a minute, I was scared she’d say she was just going to head back to her room for the evening. Much to my surprise, though, she settled in her seat by the pool, turning her gaze skyward.

  “I’ll wait for you. It’s too beautiful of a night tonight to spend it alone,” she whispered.

  Ella smiled, and I grinned back, resisting the desire to sweep her up in my arms and smother her with kisses. There was so much more I wanted to do than kiss her, but there were more pressing matters, like the glimmer of tears that still shone faintly in her eyes.

  It was all I could do to take my eyes off of her; she looked so beautiful in the starlight. Like in one of those old movies with the star-crossed lovers.

  “I won't make you wait long, sweets,” I told her, and she turned the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen upon me.

  It felt like my heart would straight up explode out of my chest at any given moment, and it took every ounce of willpower to force myself away from the pool deck.

  The party was still roaring below, but I had no desire to spend my time with a bunch of crotchety old businessmen. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Martha Beck was passed out on the deck somewhere, her flash drive free for the taking. I quickly dismissed the thought, however, and rushed in the direction of my room.

  There was a possibility that I was blowing my only chance, but I was confident that there would be other chances to get closer to the old lady. The con was important, but it wouldn’t do to obsess over it. I had to keep it cool, easy, breezy. Old Martha Beck would still be there tomorrow.

  Right now, my focus was her brown-eyed beauty of a daughter. Ella was waiting patiently for me on the upper deck, and I planned to give h
er the show of a lifetime.

  I’d always been a sucker for a beautiful face.

  Chapter Six

  Paul

  As soon as I slipped into my room, it struck me how stupid I was acting. Like some lovesick puppy, breaking all the rules I set for every con I’ve ever undertaken. My heart seemed to be trying to lead me astray, the same way it had a dozen times over in the past.

  It always amazed me how hard a pretty face was on the old ticker, to the point that I’d nearly lost my life on multiple occasions. Not to a broken heart or anything that dramatic, just an angry boyfriend or the occasional southern poppa wielding a shotgun.

  I mused that the most rational thing would be to tuck myself into bed and forget about my little caged bird. When I closed my eyes, though, I could see that deep sadness reflected in her eyes. The sadness of a life spent in the background while her mother orchestrated the whole show.

  It seemed like a hellish existence, and though I was pretty sure Ella had gotten used to being disappointed by those around her, I didn’t care to be another shitty statistic in her life. It was foolish to put the con in jeopardy, and I was painfully aware of it. I just happened to be painfully aware for my heartache for this little lady, as well.

  As I lingered near the door to my cabin, my eyes darted from my bed to the suitcase where I stashed my circus props. Even a silly performance could leave traces of my identity for Ella to pick up on, should she feel the desire to. I put my whole heart into my acts. It was one thing to do the frilly little number for the entertainment of the entire ship; it was another thing entirely to do a solo act for someone who I could feel my heart reaching out to.

  I tried to tell myself I was being an idiot. I tried to convince myself to knock back a shot of whiskey before curling up in bed and forgetting about the gorgeous woman on the top deck. There had been plenty of babes in my life; she wouldn’t be the last.