The Prince's Triplet Baby Surprise

by Lara Hunter

  “I’m so sorry!” I said, lowering my bag. “I swear I wasn’t planning to bludgeon you with my purse.”

  My face flamed with heat. I could not have chosen a worse person to arm myself against.

  “Hello, Laurie,” he said. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

  My heart warmed. We rarely saw each other, so the fact that he even remembered my name was impressive. And hearing it in the delightful accent of his mother country turned made my insides feel fuzzy.

  The Prince stepped into the foyer, dragging his suitcase behind him.

  I sprung forward. “Can I help?”

  He shook his head. “I’m okay. I need you to keep watch in case any dubious characters try to walk in behind me.”

  My blush only continued to rise. “Again, I’m so sorry about that. I was just leaving and I wasn’t expecting to see anyone because Barb left already and I didn’t realize you’d be home so early…” I trailed off, grimacing. “And now I’m holding you hostage with my boring explanation. Again, sorry.”

  Kasper closed the door behind him and began brushing the snow off his long, woolen coat. His hands were encased in soft leather gloves, a burgundy scarf wrapped around his neck. He looked like he’d walked straight out of the winter catalogue for a high-end men’s fashion label.

  “It’s all right, really,” he assured me. He smiled, highlighting the dimple on the right side of his face. “I thought I’d be coming home to an empty mansion. It’s nice to come home to a warm welcome.”

  I shifted my weight uncomfortably on my feet. He was still standing in front of the door, which was where I needed to be. And he didn’t seem intent on moving anytime soon. Like the neat gentleman he was, the Prince had begun to remove his gloves. He’d move on to the scarf next, then the jacket. And all the while, I’d be standing there like an awkward statue.

  “You were on your way out?” he said then.

  Relief flooded through me. “Yes,” I said, smiling. “Barb already left. I got distracted looking out the window.”

  Kasper laughed, exposing perfectly straight, white teeth. “I do that too, sometimes.” One glove slid off, and he placed it gently on the table next to the door. “Especially when the squirrels are out.”

  I’d never talked to Kasper this long before. Normally, I saw him in passing, if at all, and we exchanged a, “Hi, how are you?” and then a, “Good, yourself?” I was out of my depth.

  “Am I in your way?” the Prince asked, noticing my apparent discomfort.

  Embarrassment rushed through me again. Could I be any less cool?

  “I’m not in a rush,” I said. “Take your time; I’m building up the courage to go out into the cold anyway.”

  “I just don’t want to drip water all over the house,” he explained, dropping his other glove onto the table. “Not when you do such a great job of keeping it clean for me.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” I replied.

  He smiled disarmingly. “I hope you’ll remember that the next time you have to clean up after one of my parties.”

  I laughed. “I think the extra pay does more than enough to placate me there.”

  He unwound the scarf from his neck, hanging it on the coat hook next to the door. I suppressed the urge to take the scarf over to the closet and put it away.

  “There’s supposed to be some bad weather tonight,” he said. “I caught an earlier flight so I wouldn’t end up delayed or rerouted.”

  “Good call.”

  The Prince shrugged off his coat, revealing a navy cashmere sweater and a pair of charcoal dress pants underneath. He looked stately and dignified, though I doubted anyone could view him as anything but that, no matter what he was wearing. Kasper must have been about 6’4” or so, and his body wasn’t the only thing that was statuesque. He had the kind of cheekbones and full lips that belonged on a Renaissance sculpture.

  With his jacket hung next to his scarf, the Prince turned to me with a smile. “I suppose I should be letting you get on your way.”

  “I suppose I should be getting on my way,” I replied. “I’m sorry, again, if I startled you.”

  Kasper’s throaty laugh filled the foyer. “No offence, Laurie, but it takes a lot more than a woman half my size wielding a handbag to set me on edge.”

  “Hey,” I complained, brandishing my purse. “You don’t know what I’ve got in here.”

  “I’m terrified,” he said flatly.

  “You should be,” I grinned.

  Kasper’s smile seemed to light the space with warmth. “Are you on your way to do something?” he asked. “I hate to dine alone. Perhaps you could join me.”

  At those five words, my heart leapt into my throat. I hoped to God I could still speak.

  “I was planning to grab dinner on the way home,” I said. “Having something to eat that’s not fast food would actually be great.”

  I shouldn’t have said yes. My car was the junkiest of lemons, and probably wouldn’t fare too well on the roads as they were. If the snow started to really come down, I’d be in a real pickle. But Kasper smiled, and all practical thoughts were wiped from my brain.

  “I’d love to,” I confirmed.

  “Great,” Kasper smiled, finally moving away from the door. “I’m just going to put my things away. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

  He ascended the great curving staircase to my left. It took me a few moments to get it together before I realized I needed to take off my jacket before I could be having dinner with anyone. And I couldn’t stand in the foyer looking dumbfounded all night.

  Prince Kasper wanted to have dinner with me? Worried I’d fallen asleep gazing out the window, I pinched myself to check it wasn’t a dream—but it wasn’t. This was really happening.

  I paced over to the laundry room, entering the warm, fragrant air with a lengthy exhale.

  He’s just being nice.

  All the same, I couldn’t help the bubbling glee that filled my stomach. I’d been crushing on Prince Kasper since the moment I got the job.

  And now, I would be joining him for dinner.

  TWO

  Luckily, I always carried a spare change of clothes with me in case I needed to go somewhere after work. I changed into my normal clothes before heading over to the kitchen, uncertain why we would be meeting there in the first place. I didn’t know where Kasper normally hung out while he waited for the chef to make his meals, but it wasn’t the kitchen.

  Yet there he was at the island, looking gorgeous as ever, holding a knife.

  Wait, what?

  “Where’s Michael?” I asked curiously.

  Michael Cosgrove, the Prince’s personal chef, was one of the friendliest people employed at the mansion. Barb and I were often looked down on by the other staff because we were merely the cleaners, but Michael always had time to tell me a bad joke or ask me about my day.

  “I texted him from the airport and told him to go home,” Kasper explained. He jerked the knife in the direction of the bar stools across from him. “Have a seat.”

  I slid down onto the bar stool, still feeling awkward. A member of the Dutch royal house was cutting up carrots, and I was just sitting there, watching.

  “Can I help?” I asked.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Relax, please. It’s been some time since I had the opportunity to cook for anyone.”

  “You like cooking?”

  “I like the simplicity of it,” he replied. “Carrots have no politics. You can cook a steak without worrying about how it will affect your global reputation.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I said. “Anytime I cook carrots, they’re always arranging themselves into factions.”

  Kasper glanced up at me, his bright blue eyes lit with amusement. “Do you have any plans for Christmas?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Not really. My brothers and I usually go to stay with my mom in the city. I reckon we’ll go ice skating at some point, but probably not get up to too much else. What ab
out you?”

  Kasper moved on from carrots to the heads of broccoli next to the cutting board. “Christmas has always been a big deal back in Holland,” he said. “We first popularized the Christmas tree, you know.”

  “I did know that actually,” I replied, snaking my hand out for a piece of carrot. I popped it into my mouth. “And you turned carrots orange.”

  Kasper smiled at me approvingly. “Very good, Miss Flowers.”

  “Well you learn a few things when you work for a Dutch prince,” I said, trying my best to appear calm and collected though I was still flabbergasted by the situation I’d found myself in. “And when you take a class on early modern English history. William of Orange, and all that jazz.”

  “I can see I chose the best available dinner companion.”

  I chuckled. “The only available dinner companion.”

  “That’s not quite true,” Kasper corrected. “That actress neighbor of mine has been relentless in trying to secure an invitation to come over.”

  I beamed. Kasper’s actress neighbor was not just any actress, but one of Hollywood’s most glamorous. When she wasn’t filming, she stayed in her boxy, modern monstrosity a quarter mile down the road. I delighted in the knowledge that I’d been chosen over her. Come to think of it, for a man with the reputation of a womanizer, I’d never seen Kasper bring any women home.

  “I’m glad you chose me,” I said finally. “This already looks much more delicious than whatever I was going to eat.”

  Kasper looked down at the roughly chopped collection of vegetables on the cutting board, then back up to me. “Whatever you say,” he said, chuckling as he reached for last stalk of broccoli. “Do you like working here?” he asked then.

  “Of course,” I replied instantly.

  It wasn’t a lie, exactly. I wouldn’t have worked for the Prince for so long if I hated it. There was just something else I would rather have been doing.

  “And how did you come to work here?” he asked. “I vaguely remember Barbara telling me you’re a student?”

  I opened my mouth to explain my situation, but at that same moment, Kasper sliced through the broccoli at an awkward angle. The knife continued slicing at that angle—right through the tip of his finger.

  Kasper cursed in Dutch, dropping the knife.

  I sprang out of my chair. “Stay still,” I said calmly.

  Kasper looked at me questioningly, holding his injured hand. I doubted he was used to people telling him what to do, but I was in my element now.

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  I pulled the hand away from where he clutched it near his chest. “It’s bleeding heavily,” I replied. “Let me have a look.”

  The cut was deep, but not so serious as to require a visit to the emergency room. “Hang on a minute while I grab the first aid kit,” I told him.

  “I didn’t even know I had one.”

  I laughed, disappearing into the hall. When I came back, Kasper was exactly where I’d left him. I swabbed the wound clean with some antiseptic wipes and bound it. Kasper watched me intently all the while, and my face burned under his gaze.

  “Hold it up like this for a few minutes,” I said finally. “Keeping it above your heart will help slow the bleeding.” I’d just tightened the bandage, and now held his hand up to his shoulder. I could barely reach up that far—I had to shuffle close to him, almost so that our chests were touching.

  Kasper looked at his hand, to my outstretched arm, to me. “You’re pretty good at this.”

  I laughed. “I should hope so. I’m going to be a doctor one day.”

  He cocked his head, studying me. “And what’s an aspiring doctor doing cleaning my mansion?” he asked.

  I glanced up at his inquisitive eyes, wishing I could just spill everything and be done with it. I was at odds with myself. On one hand, I felt comfortable talking to the Prince. He had a relaxed air about him and never acted superior to me or anyone else I saw him interact with. On the other hand, he was my boss. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for my job. And to top it off, he was a prince; I wasn’t going to whine to him about my financial problems and end up sounding like I was asking for a handout. My mother had taught me some manners.

  “Hopefully a good job,” I deflected with a smile.

  It was then I realized how long I’d been holding Kasper’s hand. I pulled my hand away, immediately missing the warmth of his.

  “You do a wonderful job,” Kasper said warmly.

  “Good.”

  I took a couple steps back, realizing I was still standing too close to him. It was bad enough having a crush on him. The last thing I needed was for him to know about it.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to amputate after all,” I declared. “But I do think it would be wise for me to take over the cooking—if only to prevent further injury.”

  Kasper narrowed his eyes and scowled jokingly. “You’re just worried that I can’t cook.”

  I gasped. “I would never think such a thing. The Dutch royal family are known for their culinary skills.”

  Kasper chuckled. I wondered if his arm was burning yet from holding it up for so long. Doubtful, considering how muscular his arms were. They’d never been as on show to me before as they were now, and it was really quite distracting.

  For what felt like the twentieth time that day, I tore my gaze away from Kasper, and his flexed arm. I turned my focus to the cutting board.

  “I think most of the veggies escaped unscathed,” I observed.

  Kasper glanced at the countertop. “Let me deal with the cutting board and knife,” he said.

  “I’ve got it,” I told him. “A little blood doesn’t bother me. You just hang out for another couple of minutes. You’re nearly done.”

  With that, I took the cutting board and knife away, disinfecting the countertop underneath. Then I replaced the area with fresh supplies, and discarded the vegetables that I thought might have been contaminated.

  Kasper watched me with interest. I tried not to notice, but it was like I had sonar that specifically picked up his frequency.

  “What were you making?” I asked, once I was ready to get started.

  Kasper glanced at his hand. “May I lower this now?”

  My insides quivered. My boss, the crown prince of the Netherlands, had just asked for my permission. I could die now and be quite happy.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just try not to disturb the wound, and don’t cut yourself anywhere else!”

  “Well, you can finish with the vegetables, then,” he replied. “I’ll get started seasoning the meat.”

  THREE

  Cooking wasn’t my favorite pursuit, but I could summon myself up to the task if need be. Cooking with Kasper, on the other hand—I would do that any day of the week. We worked like a well-oiled machine, chatting all the while about what he’d been up to abroad, and what American shows he’d missed out on while he’d been away in Europe. Outside the kitchen window, snow drifted down like frozen feathers in larger and larger flakes.

  I should have been concerned for my drive home, but all I could think of was how cozy it was inside the mansion. How happy I was. Kasper lit the fire in the main living room and went to set the table in the dining room while I plated up the food and brought it through.

  “You should sit at the head of the table,” Kasper said, pulling out my chair for me. “You saved my life tonight, after all.”

  My eyes bulged slightly. “That wouldn’t be very proper, would it?”

  Kasper’s warm smile sent a shiver down my spine. “Relax, Laurie. There’s nobody here but us. And anyway, it’s not like it’s the 1800s.” He patted the back of the chair. “Sit down.”

  I slid the plates onto the table and sat down. I couldn’t help thinking about how many times I’d polished the cherry-wood dining table until it gleamed like a mirror. I’d never thought I would end up sitting at it.

  “Wine?” Kasper asked.

  “I could go for a glass,” I replied.
“Just a small one.”

  Kasper disappeared back into the hallway, returning a few moments later with two glasses and a cold bottle of white from the fridge. He uncorked it at the table and poured out a small glass for me. I tried not to think about how much the bottle must have cost.

  “Tell me more about you,” Kasper said, settling down in his chair.

  “I’m not very interesting,” I warned. “Just a girl who grew up in the Bronx.”