All Chapters of The Royal's Baby Proposal: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Are you teasing me, Bailey?”Nick’s low, sensual voice trickles deliciously along my spine, sending a shiver through me. His head is bent to mine and his champagne-laced breaths caress my bare skin. I mentally urge him to brush his lips down my neck, to the crook, and then along my shoulder.I don’t know why, but that suddenly seems ridiculously sexy to me. As much as getting him worked up with my mouth.He’s still in no particular hurry. I’m wearing no more than a lacy thong and rather than groping me, he seems to be savoring the sight of my beaded nipples and the way they graze the top of his rib cage with each quavering inhale and exhale as my fingers clumsily fumble with his pants.His hands remain on my hips, his fingers tangled in the strands there. Giving the illusion he’s on the verge of shredding my flimsy lingerie. But he’s demonstrating significant willpower by not doing precisely that—and intensifying the anticipation mounting between us.I am hypersensitive to everything

The restaurant is no livelier than usual this evening. Ironies of all ironies, that continues to work in my favor.During a particularly bleak and depressing lull—following a particularly bleak and depressing dinner “rush” that consisted of one couple celebrating their anniversary (and selected us because they’re out-of-towners and I surmise they didn’t know better—though we did make a big deal out of the event) and a double date with teens—I gather my primary staff, such as it is, and make my very first announcement regarding my takeover of the establishment.“I’ve been charged with resurrecting this place,” I inform the five people settling around a high-top table in the bar area. I don’t confess to having charged myself with this task. For the moment, I opt to play this fast and loose while I assess the reactions from this portion of my crew; then I’ll address the others when they come in for their varying part-time shifts and see where the chips fall.“So, my most immediate change

No, we’re definitely not playing by the rules.He’d called me “babe,” for one thing.Terms of endearment are… Such a no-no in a scenario like this. Correct?Second… We’re being reactionary with each other, rather than paying close attention to the fertility testing and the monitoring that’s at our disposal, which can accurately alert us of the perfect time to copulate.And, hell… We’re not exactly “copulating” in a clinical sense.What we’re doing is something altogether different.Nick and I are hot for each other, plain and simple.Except… There really isn’t anything plain or simple about this.We should not be so caught up in each other, so tangled up.He knows it too. And murmurs, “This is going to be a problem.”He withdraws from me and climbs off the couch. He crosses the vast room that’s filled with other sofas, chairs, and accent tables. He ducks into the bathroom, of which I’ve discovered there’s one in each of these wings. When he returns, he’s wearing the shirt I’ve all but

He takes a shower while I lay completely sprawled and limp across the bed.I stare up at the glamorous ceiling fan, never having realized the style was a “thing.” This one has a stunning, crystal, subtle-heart-shaped dome. The brackets on the cherry wood blades are ornate with a little bling that catches the golden light emitted.Only Nick can distract me from the lovely sight. The vision of him, even the slight one out of the corner of my eye as he comes from the en suite, has me focused solely on him.My head rolls to the side and I watch him strut back into the room, a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets trickle along the thick cords of his throat, one pooling in the indentation at the base, the others tumbling from his collarbone to his pecs.I bite back a sigh, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.Oh, the pecs…The swells are magnificently defined and so enticing. They give way to cut abs and tapered obliques.My gaze continues to follow the beads of water left over from his sh

I gasp.My eyelids fly open.“What is it?” Mitch asks with great interest. Standing, as well.Blue had not been a hue I’d contemplated, for fear it would meld right into the ocean scenery. No, I want something that grabs and commands attention.I immediately visualize a shade so rich and brilliant, a blue-turquoise so sensational, it truly would be a beacon.Turquoise and white. With a darker blue or possibly black as a faint enhancement around the fringes to make it all pop.I tell Mitch of my choice and add, “Imagine an awning out front in turquoise with ‘Bailey’s’ in white script, sitting on top of ‘CALIFORNIA CLAMBAKE,” capped in a stamped-type font, along with a logo that’s in the blue and outlined in white—a pot with a lid leaning against it and a lobster, crab, and prawn rising out of it, but it’s filled with, you know, clams and oysters and mussels. I don’t fucking have the concept down—I need a graphic designer. You get what I’m saying though, right?” I very enthusiastically