The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation. Charlene SandsЧитать онлайн книгу.
to declare to the world that they’d started seeing each other. To take her to a hotel, or dinner or wherever he liked. It wasn’t fair to force him to help her clean up this old farmhouse just so she could avoid a confrontation.
Except she wasn’t only avoiding the confrontation. She was avoiding admitting to herself that her own desires had trumped her responsibilities. Hurricane Bella had followed her across the Atlantic after all.
“I’ll drive you back to Playa Del Onda,” he said immediately. “Whenever you’re ready.”
A different fear gripped her then. What if they got everything straightened out and she and James could be together with no fear of scandal—only for her to discover things between them were so amazing because of the extreme circumstances? The white-hot attraction between them might fizzle if their secret affair wasn’t so secret any longer.
That was enough to change her mind.
“I’ll probably never be ready. Let’s shoot for tomorrow.” That was too soon. The thought of losing her allure with James made her want to weep. “Let’s get some more work on the house done today. It’ll give me time to gear up. Is that okay? Do you have something else you need to be doing?”
“Nothing I would rather be doing, that’s for sure. I’m completely open.”
“Me, too.”
And for some reason, that didn’t sit well, as if she was some kind of Eurotrash princess who had nothing better to do than lie around all day getting it on with a hot athlete. That was like a tabloid story in and of itself.
The urn from the great room popped into her head. Usefulness created worth and she wanted to feel that her life had worth.
“You know what I’d like to do?” she said impulsively. “Find out if there’s a wildlife conservation organization in Alma.”
James, to his credit, didn’t register a lick of surprise. “I’ll help you find one.”
Of course he’d say that, without questioning why. His unwavering support was fast becoming a lifeline. “I was involved in one back in Miami. I like taking care of poor, defenseless creatures. Especially birds. We had wild macaws on the grounds at our house and I always felt like they were there as a sign. I miss them. I miss feeling like I’m doing something to give back, you know?”
“It’s a good cause,” he agreed. “There are some estuaries on the east side of the main island. Lots of migratory birds and fish live there. Surely there are some organizations devoted to their preservation. If not, you’re in the perfect position to start one.”
Her breath caught. At last, a use for the title of princess. If her brother was running the show, he could give her backing in parliament to get some state money set aside. Fund-raisers galore could come out of that. “Thanks. I love that idea.”
“If we’re going to Playa Del Onda tomorrow, you want to swing by the Playa branch of the Ministry of Agriculture and Environment and see if they have any information on wildlife conservation?”
“Definitely. And then I’d like to come back and put together a serious renovation plan for the house. But I’m not suggesting you have to help,” she amended in a rush.
Good grief. Everything that came out of her mouth sounded as if she was ordering him around, expecting him to play chauffer and be a general Alma guide. He might have his own life to live. Or he might realize the thrill had worn off.
“I want to help,” he insisted. “My assumption is that we’re still planning to lie low, even after you clear things up with your father. So that means we need a place to go. I like it here.”
She let out the breath caught in her lungs. She shouldn’t read into his response. But for some reason, it made her feel a little better that he wasn’t already planning to ditch their relationship once it wasn’t secret any longer. “I do, too.”
She’d started thinking she might like to live in the farmhouse permanently. It wasn’t too far from Del Sol, so she could visit Tía Isabella occasionally. If she planned to stay in Alma, she had to live somewhere. Why not here? No one else cared about it.
As she lay in the bed James had ordered and smiled at him in the early morning light, it occurred to her that he was the only reason she’d even thought about a permanent place to live. As if James and forever were intertwined.
That was enough to propel her from the bed with a quickly tossed-off excuse about taking a shower now that she could.
As the water heated up, she berated herself for dreaming about life beyond the next few days. It was one thing to question whether James would lose interest once they could go public with their affair, but it was another entirely to assign him a permanent place in her life without even consulting him.
What would his place be? Boyfriend? Official lover? She’d be living in the public eye far more in Alma than in Miami. What if James didn’t want that kind of scrutiny? She wouldn’t blame him, especially given the past scandals that dogged his steps.
Of course, she didn’t know his thoughts one way or another. Maybe he’d be done with their affair in a few days, regardless of the status of their relationship. Maybe the whole concept of being her long-term lover had little appeal.
What was she thinking?
What had happened to the girl who used to flit from one guy to the next with ease? Or for that matter, the girl who flitted from party to party? Living out here in the country would make it really difficult to stay in the scene. No jetting off to Monte Carlo or Barcelona for some fun on the Mediterranean when Alma grew too dull. But when she exited the bathroom and saw the beautiful, surprisingly romantic man still in the bed they’d shared last night, sprawled out under the covers like a wicked fantasy, all of that drained from her mind. What party—what other man, for that matter—could compare to that?
“Give me a few minutes and we’ll get started,” he promised. “Let’s check out the upstairs today.”
God, she was in a lot of trouble. She should be the one thinking about cooling things off, not worrying about whether James planned to.
But the thought of ending things with James made her nauseous.
What was she going to do?
The upstairs master suite had the most amazing four-poster bed Bella had ever seen. When she drew off the drop cloths covering it, she almost gasped at the intricate carvings in the wood. Delicate flowers in full bloom twined up the posts and exploded into bunches at the top corners.
Once she polished the wood to gleaming and whacked the dust from the counterpane and pillows, the bed took on an almost magical quality, as if it had been a gift from the fairy realm to this one.
The rest of the room was a wreck. Mice had gotten into the cushions of the chairs by the huge bay window and Bella could tell by the discoloration of the walls that some type of artwork had originally hung there, but had disappeared at some point over the years.
The floor groaned behind her and she turned to see James bouncing lightly on a spot near the bed. The planks bowed under his weight and then with a snap, one cracked in two. Both pieces fell into the newly created hole. It was a testament to James’s superior balance and athletic reflexes that the broken plank hadn’t thrown him to the floor.
“Oops,” he said sheepishly as he leaped clear. “I was not expecting that to happen. Sorry.”
She waved it off. “If that’s the worst damage we do today, I’ll consider that a plus. Why, exactly, were you jumping up and down on it in the first place?”
“When I walked over it, this section felt different, like it wasn’t solid underneath. It turns out it wasn’t.”
Grinning