~ NICK ~ She’s adapting quite nicely.I was not expecting it to be immediate. But Bailey does possess a strong constitution and a resiliency that sees her through adversity. And while the palace is obviously intimidating, she’s just taken her first flight ever, and she’s never left her own country before this—and she is, truly, in a foreign land—she’s also, as usual, taking it all in stride.I don’t prompt her for any huge reveals here, just let her continue to assimilate, while I casually muse, “It was fortuitous to have Claire get your passport ordered months ago.”“All the tiny details are accounted for—i’s dotted and t’s crossed. You are quite thorough. As is she.”“And I want you fully refreshed for lunch and a tour.”She snickers, sweetly. “You’ll have to leave breadcrumbs for me so I can find my way around.”“It’s an easy layout, I promise.” I gesture to the hustle and bustle below us. “This main part of the palace houses administrative and operations offices, conference rooms
~ BAILEY ~He chuckles again, his breath blowing against my damp skin, which he keeps kissing. I grip his biceps. Writhe beneath him. Restlessly. Also…tauntingly.“You do understand that’s only going to turn me on more.”“Oh…do we have a problem with that?” I politely inquire.“Such the smartass,” he retorts.“I prefer spunky.”“Whatever you want, babe…” He kisses his way down to my collarbone.“You’re certainly headed in the right direction,” I assure him.“Well, there’s ample bounty here.”“Aren’t you the comedian today?”His tongue flits over the top of one breast and it is literally all I can do not to immediately urge him lower. My breasts ache for him. My nipples are puckered and tingling.But Nick sets his own pace. Usually a fervent one. However, he’s really taken to this more languid style he’s adopted of late and it’s so titillating, I can’t be bothered to make him hurry things along.In fact, I systemically categorize all the zings, in their various capacities. My blood is
~ BAILEY ~ Something very specific is eating at Nick and I believe it goes well beyond his slip about us resuming a more aggressive sexual relationship once the baby is born.Yes, I recognize what a huge faux pas he made. It is a thought neither one of us should even dare to entertain. Once I give birth… Our deal is done.I’ll recover in the lap of luxury. I’ll have my beach house. I’ll have my restaurant.Nick will have his child.In my mind, I’ve perfectly compartmentalized all of this. I’m a very reasonable person who weighed all the options and made a brilliant decision to secure my own future.Hell… In the long run, I get infinitely more out of the arrangement because Nick has gone so very far beyond what was outlined in our contract, regarding what my personal benefits “entail.”I get more than security—I get an entire life. Complete with a butler who chooses to stay with me and who has been the perfect confidante, caregiver, friend, and father.The truth is, if I invite his da
~ BAILEY ~“Says who?” Nick counters, not missing a beat.“It’s too much,” I merely mutter.At the same time…I’m conversely tempted by all he’s offering. Of course, I am.I’m just having difficulty reconciling all I need to reconcile. In my brain. In my heart.Oh, my heart…it’s having a field day. Jumping excitedly. Though my stomach’s beginning to churn as I grind over this very bizarre situation I’ve found myself in.The first thing I really must confess is, “Nick.” I stare deeper into his eyes, unwaveringly. “I heard you say that you love me.”“I think you’ve known it all along.”I give a small nod. “That means you’ve known all along that I also—”“I’ve suspected.” His irises glow evocatively, and I literally feel the heat straight to my core.But I can’t allow myself to get sidetracked by how easily he lights me up. There is something vital that I must say. Must say.My heart has sort of launched itself into my throat, though, in anticipation of my own revelation. My pulse is ech
~ BAILEY ~ The interior of the palace is stunning. Every single square foot of it.Of which, there are many.Too much territory to cover, of course. As we make our way from Nick’s suites—basically a spacious home within the palace walls—to a courtyard where lunch is setup for our small party, I am completely blown away by the opulence and how each corner we turn is more beautiful than the last. Even when it seems that’s impossible, that we’ve reached the pinnacle of “spectacular,” and I’ve hit my threshold for glamour, I’m confronted by yet another breath-stealing vision.I imagine this is what Paris is like. From the postcards my mother has sent over the years, I suspect I’m spot-on. I’ll just never know, personally, because I’ll never visit. She’s ruined it for me.And, honestly, I really don’t have to travel to Paris when I can overdose on indulgence right here. With Nick.The lush lawns, the colorful flowers, and the full trees are a sensational addition to the ponds, the fountai
~ NICK ~No doubt, there’s excitement in my eyes as I consider what I felt under my hand.She more leisurely sits up, actually not surprised.She informs me, “Likely not what you think, Nick. Although…”Her gorgeous blue irises glow so hypnotically, I’m held spellbound.She says, “I did wonder if I’d feel her kick while I was here. But chances are slim you’d feel it too. Not this early.”I’m immediately enrapt. “Are you telling me… That might have been—”“Probably gas bubbles,” she hastily explains, then gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Potentially grumbles because I really should eat.” She holds up her hand, angles it, squishes her forefinger and thumb together as a sign of a mere measurement, and adds, “Teeny-tiny possibility it’s baby movement.”Regardless… She returns to her prone position. Reaches for my hand and flattens the palm to her belly again.“What’d you feel?” I ask.“Flutters. Like popcorn popping. Only a few kernels, though.”She waits, as though anticipating another r
~ BAILEY ~ Turns out… It’s not me, Bailey Storm, who jacks the whole program.While dinner is exceptionally tasty and I am about as content as any pregnant woman can be, particularly when she’s dining with a king, there’s much more on the evening’s docket to fringe my satisfaction with a tinge of anticipation.I can only draw out the end of the meal for so long.I mean, a crème brulee and a thick slice of carrot cake are notably excessive.Though Nick doesn’t raise his brow. He knows I’m stalling.We have somewhere to be, shortly. And despite me claiming I didn’t mind him having a cocktail when I can’t, I realize my scarfing down decadent desserts is essentially the equivalent of draining a couple of glasses of champagne before I head toward the guillotine.Overly dramatic, sure. However…Here’s something even wilder about all this.I have no idea why I feel this way, but there is a gnawing sensation within me that is telling me I have much more at stake here than I’d considered when
~ BAILEY ~We step into the opulent foyer of the apartment. It is no less and no more elegant and luxurious than Nick’s. The hues are a bit lighter than what Nick evidently prefers and the styles are dissimilar in terms of historical vs. modern, but other than that… Yeah. No expense spared here. Or on any inch of this palace.We’re greeted by a butler, who tells us, “His Majesty is waiting for you, Your Highness.”So king father still likes to be denoted as such. I tuck that away.We are escorted along the cavernous entryway that empties into a well-appointed salon, large enough to host an awards show, it seems.Another lengthy hall with myriad closed double doors is our route. Near the end, we are ceremoniously ushered into a striking suite with stunning textures and shades of deep burgundy and hunter green.I find this intriguing.Did his wife prefer the more delicate color palette elsewhere, and here in the bedroom, this was a compromise?I don’t know, of course. But for some reaso
~ BAILEY ~Every time I think I can’t be more in love with this man… I fall even deeper under his spell.My arms twine around his neck and I lose myself in yet another searing kiss. His devilish tongue does wicked things to mine, sparking endless fireworks.My heart flutters and my blood sizzles through my veins.I have no clue as to how much time passes. We only briefly gasp for air here and there before we’re engaging in another scorching lip-lock. He has one hand on my ass and the other arm encircles my waist. He’s still holding the present I’ve given him, but neither of us seem to have that on our minds.My fingers thread his lush hair, and we’re pressed together so tightly, a sheath of paper couldn’t pass between us.And yet… That still doesn’t feel close enough.Damn the fact that we have to wear clothing in everyday life!I would be perfectly happy to be naked with this man twenty-four-seven. Also tangled up with him in absolute seclusion.Not a possibility at present, though.
~ BAILEY ~“I’m sorry… whhhaaat did you just say?” Claire stares at me as though I’ve grown a third eye and perhaps an extra nose.I smirk.Her expression doesn’t change. “Bailey-soon-to-be-Angelini, aka Your Majesty… With all due respect… Are. You. Shitting. Me?”Now, I laugh.She’s learned that term from me, with the correct punctuation.I snicker at her and say, “Feel free to bring the incredulity down ten notches. You and I both know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that planning a wedding in less than a month is not the hideous undertaking you’re insinuating it is, particularly for a woman of your mad skills.”The compliment does nothing to placate her.She shoots to her feet and begins to pace, partially obstructing my view of the fountain and the large pond surrounding it, which had been expeditiously “installed” while Nick and I were in California. Apparently, if I requested it, this portion of the estate—the outer perimeters of the private apartments—would be turned into a lake t
~ NICK ~How could I not request this?Other than… Well… There are the standard obstacles, of course.She’s entangled in a “should I stay, or should I go?” tug of war that involves me, a child, and a restaurant—a dream she’s had forever. One that’s significant and fulfilling, given she’s achieved it primarily on her own. What help I’ve provided is financial. She’s the true victor in this vein, with her vision, ingenuity, and initiative. With her hard work.Thus, I understand I’ve just tossed her into a new mix of uncertainty. We haven’t resolved our current situation and now I’ve gone and complicated matters to the degree that her jaw slacks, she gazes at me with wide eyes, and she’s at a complete loss for words.That’s advantageous for me, so that I can explain, “I didn’t plan that, Bailey. Not necessarily. Though… It’s been on my mind. For some time. A long time, truthfully. Even before you came here.”She blinks. I’m guessing that’s to let me know she’s heard me. She just can’t res
~ BAILEY ~Of course, I’m blown away. How can I not be?Sure, I’ve been made fully aware, at every turn, this is to be a formal event, and so I did have it in my head that no expense would be spared. However, that’s actually a vague phrase. While it’s true I can come up with some impressive dining and décor scenarios, and even went a little over-the-top with Bailey’s Clambake, I have not been sufficiently exposed to the word “excessive” in such a concentrated manner.Granted, the palace fits the term. Certainly. Though, it’s incredibly vast and spread out and not something that you take in all at once. Like, seriously, I can only process its grandeur in bits and bites.This gala, however, is in my face.There are chandeliers so beautiful, I want to weep. The one in the center of the room, hanging in the domed ceiling, is so huge, so stunning, I just can’t even… Fathom it.Coming from the gilt edges, which I have no doubt are twenty-four-karat gold (as is every fixture, I’m sure), are
~ BAILEY ~We’re trapped in some bizarre time warp where our eyes are locked and there’s an electrical current arcing between us and every second that slips by is laced with anticipation.It’s Grayson who finally breaks the ice, discreetly clearing his throat. And quietly announcing, “The limo is ready.”“Thank you, Grayson.” Nick manages to speak.He raises a hand again and his thumb skims over his bottom lip.I resist the urge to bite mine, his absent gesture being so subtly sensual. Yet I remind myself not to ruin my lipstick.He takes a couple of wide strides toward me and my breath catches. He hears it. Sees it. And there’s a spark in his grey-green irises because of it.“You picked the most striking dress of all,” he tells me.Miraculously, I’m able to reply. Albeit breathily. Like, full-on Marilyn Monroe. “It’d probably look a lot better if I wasn’t pregnant.” Not that I regret being pregnant. That’s a total no-brainer.He comprehends my unspoken sentiment and gives another sha
~ BAILEY ~I’m trying to breathe, but the gown I’m being fitted for doesn’t allow much opportunity for that. Time is of the essence today and I feel as though my entire existence is moving at the speed of light. Claire has taken over my schedule and there’s barely time to pee. Though, you know… I’m pregnant, so I must insist she build in potty breaks to avoid any sort of accident.And I won’t let her nix my daily reading with Antonio from my calendar. Unfortunately, it will be later in the morning and that will provide ample time, I’m sure, for word to reach him that I’m attending a gala with His Highness.Oh, that phrase completely curls my toes, when I actually know better—I shouldn’t let it curl my toes. Or send a rush of exhilaration through my veins. For the hour that I’ve been standing on a platform surrounded by full-length mirrors while two women work simultaneously to nip and tuck, and another one continually holds up shoes for inspection and then puts them against the dress
~ BAILEY ~Nick snickers at me.I tell him, “Don’t you dare try to separate me from lobster mac and cheese.”He carefully unravels us. Grayson assists me into the chair he’s once again pulled out.I accept the napkin. Even bounce excitedly in my seat, which pleases both men. They’re clearly convinced I’m cured of the seafood curse, whether it was a psychological manifestation, or that the peanut genuinely isn’t into fish.But the truth is, her mom can’t go long without her fix. So.To tide me over, there is a prime cut of beef with an aromatic Hollandaise sauce I’m certain Grayson would have added crab legs to if I’d previously expressed my interest in dipping my toes into the water, as it were, this evening. Or he’d have gone straight for Oscar-style.No matter. I’m instantly famished and reach for the steak knife and a fork, completely bypassing the salad he’s also delivered.Normally, he does the customary presentation of individual courses, but given the hour and how Nick and I de
~ BAILEY ~I might be building the perfect bridge.Well, maybe not totally perfect. But darn close to it.An hour of reading to Antonio leads to a half-hour of him sharing a quaint story from his childhood. One that does not involve magnificent horses and banners flying, or silver platters piled high with glorious desserts, or anything else expensive and exquisite that screams privilege. It’s simply a remembrance from when he was a small child and had wandered off in the forest during a group hunting expedition. He was alone and had panicked that he might not be able to find his way back. But he learned a handy trick. Look to the sky.The sun at noon offers a southern alignment. Since it rises in the east and sets in the west, Antonio was able to gauge an appropriate direction by the movement and shadows. He navigated toward the hunting encampment by the western lakeshore. His father had not yet sent out a search team for him. He’d allowed Antonio the opportunity to get his bearings a
~ BAILEY ~“His baby mama?” I inquire, my brow raised.Her eyes pop again. “Absolutely not what I was going to call you! No one’s used that term. You’re his special guest. Though…” She turns more conspiratorial now. Even glances about to see if anyone’s within earshot. Satisfied no one will overhear us, she says, “Between you, me, and the lamppost—”“You know that phrase?” I’m surprised, truthfully. Despite her being quite capable of keeping up in our conversations without hitting language barriers too often.She squares her shoulders this time and tells me, “I’m well-versed in colloquialisms favored in numerous countries. However, I’m mostly fascinated with American adages. You have a very rich and diverse culture. I’m particularly intrigued with your musical stylings—such as hip-hop.”“You listen to hip-hop?”“Oh, yes! I have an extensive playlist. Anyway, I see why His Highness takes a great interest in your country.”A golden nugget is embedded in there, somewhere. I sense it. I j