The Pregnant Princess by Anne Marie Winston

Author:Anne Marie Winston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2000-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Two hours later, Rafe stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Quietly he walked through the bedroom, and, as the knock he’d been expecting sounded at the door, he quickly pulled it open before the man standing on the other side could knock again.

“The things you requested, sir,” the valet said. The man pushed a garment cart with several bagged items hanging from it into the room, then efficiently dealt with the bags piled on its bottom rack. As Rafe watched, all kinds of toiletries and accessories appeared: a shaving kit, a selection of makeup, the ladies’ maternity underclothes he’d specified, perfume and men’s cologne and more, right down to a handbag and pretty, low-heeled sandals for his sleeping beauty.

Rafe signed the bill the man discreetly presented, adding a generous tip before he ushered him out, closing the heavy door quietly. Elizabeth was still sleeping on the bed where he’d carried her after their lovemaking, and he suspected she needed a little more rest before their evening began. She was going to be hard enough to handle when she found out what he had planned; no point in having her tired and cranky as well.

He’d sworn he would never wind up like his parents, and now he was doing nearly the exact same thing.

The bitter thought tore through his mind and he felt compelled to defend his decision. He was not doing the same thing his parents had done. Well, not exactly. His parents’ marriage had been a power deal and his mother hadn’t been pregnant at the time of the ceremony. Although it certainly hadn’t been long before she was.

The thought boggled the mind. He couldn’t imagine two people less likely to indulge in hot, sweaty, draining but delightful bouts of sex than his parents. Victor and Sara were the least passionate people he’d ever met.

Unless you were talking prestige or finances, he thought with a bitterness that hadn’t subsided over the years. His father lived to ingratiate himself with the royalty of every European nation that hadn’t gotten rid of the archaic idea of a ruling class. Anyone who dared to thwart Victor in one of his never-ending attempts to link himself with yet another royal name found out just how passionate he could get.

As a child, Rafe had learned quickly that protocol and etiquette were the keys to success in his home. One didn’t run to one’s mother for a kiss upon her return from a trip, or cry over a skinned knee. His father’s favorite phrase, without doubt, was “stiff upper lip.”

And Rafe was damned if his child was ever going to hear it.

He pulled on the black evening trousers and slipped into the shirt, fastening the studs and adding the formal bow tie before working on the cuff links he’d had sent up with the other accessories. Then he crossed to the little writing desk in the living area and quickly penned a note for Elizabeth before slipping into new Italian leather shoes and the rest of his tux and letting himself out of the suite.

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