A Player for A Princess: Dirty Players Duet #2 (19 page)

S
unlight streams
through the blinds waking me, and I want to throw open the French doors to see what kind of a day my little sister gets for her wedding. Instead, I lay on my side for a moment, thinking about all that has happened in the past weeks and how much has changed.

I run my hands over my growing stomach, thankful for my little princess. She appeared at the most traumatic time of my life, and she has given me so much strength. She’s a treasured part of her daddy I will always have.

Closing my eyes, I wonder if she’ll have his warm hazel eyes. I wonder if she’ll love movies and pizza…

I’m pretty sure she’ll love pizza.

Tears appear in my eyes. I’ve gone from being a strong survivor who never cries to a weepy fount of pregnant-lady emotions. I suppose it’s warranted, but I’m still getting used to my heart spilling onto my cheeks at a moment’s notice.

With a sigh, I reach up to touch them away. My breath hiccups, and I don’t mean to shake the bed. Still, I’m busted. A strong arm goes around my waist, and warm lips move through my hair to the back of my neck, kissing down to my shoulder.

“Tears so soon?” Cal’s voice sends warm love filtering through my veins. “You should save them for the wedding.”

“Pregnancy hormones,” I say, turning to smile up at him.

His arms tighten around me, and he presses a light kiss to my lips, to the side of my jaw, to the base of my throat. “As long as they’re happy tears,” he says, giving me a smile.

“I’m so much more than happy. I guess that’s why it keeps running down my face.”

My hands are on his shoulders, and I can’t help loving the way the morning sun casts a warm glow over his skin. I trace my fingers lightly over the muscles in his arms. Lifting my head, I bury my nose in his chest, inhaling deeply his luscious cedar and citrus and Cal scent.

He’s here. He’s okay, and I’m so deeply grateful. The weeks of his slow but steady recovery were so difficult. I’ll never forget my dark night of the soul when we didn’t know if he would live or die. He was so weak, and the burning ache as I watched him cling to life was a torture I pray I never face again. The darkest hour truly was before dawn…

“Go back to sleep.” He moves down to rest his cheek against my breast.

“I’m too excited to sleep!” I squirm under the weight of his body against mine.

“Our little princess needs you to sleep,” he says, turning and pulling my back to his chest to spoon. Instead it presses his morning wood right against my ass.

“Somebody else is ready to party.”

That makes him laugh, and his hand slides down my stomach, catching the edge of my sleep shirt and moving under it.

“We will have very mellow sex then go back to sleep.” As he speaks, his lips graze my neck right behind my ear and chills scatter down my body, pooling desire low in my belly.

Reaching behind me, I thread my fingers into the side of his hair. “You don’t know the meaning of the phrase
mellow sex
.”

“You’re right. I want you to ride me like a bull in one of those Western rodeos.”

Laughter explodes through my lips. “It’s too soon for that much crazy. I might hurt you!”

He kisses my neck again. “I can’t think of a better way to go.”

“Don’t say that!” Squirming out of his arms, I push him onto his back to examine his side. “You’re getting better.”

He props on his elbows and looks down at the ugly wound where Wade Paxton stuck that horrible knife into his side and almost killed him. Thank God it lodged in a rib instead of puncturing his lung. He lost so much blood. Freddie and his team searched for almost an hour before finding him.

“I thought losing a finger was the worst pain I’d ever felt.” I recline beside him, looking deep in his warm hazel eyes. “I can’t live without you, MacCallum Lockwood Tate.”

My throat aches, and he rolls toward me, into a kiss. It’s long and slow, just lips, pulling, chasing.

“Shh,” he says against my cheek. “Those days are behind us. It’s all good things now.”

It’s true. Wade Paxton had been found guilty of conspiracy to assassinate Rowan, of ordering Blix Ratcliffe to shoot Ava, kill Seth, and kidnap me. Cal wasn’t even questioned in his death. It had been dismissed as self-defense.

The bad blood between Totrington and Monagasco will likely continue, but the imminent threats appear to be gone. Except for Blix, who has disappeared. Logan and Freddie are determined to find him.

Rowan’s coronation ceremony was last week, and today, my little sister will become his wife, the Queen Consort.

“Ava will be the most amazing queen,” I say with a little smile as his lips trace a path down my neck. “I’m so proud of her.”

“We can finally go home.” He lifts my shirt to kiss one breast then the other before moving down to my stomach. “Ready to go home, princess?”

I exhale a delighted laugh, threading my fingers into his hair. He continues his trail of kisses, moving downward, and I arch back, closing my eyes as we spend the next several minutes waking up my favorite way.

A
va’s hands
shake so hard, she can’t put on her eyeliner. “Give me that,” I say, stepping around in front of her.

“I am freaking out,” she says in a low voice, glancing around the room at the laughing and chatting ladies in waiting. “Everyone in the world is going to be watching us today—and if they don’t, it’ll be on the Internet, and they’ll watch it over and over for the rest of eternity!”

“Now that is one sure way to make yourself crazy.” I’m holding the liner-pen, drawing a dramatic swoosh over her striking emerald eyes. “You are going to be fine. Your dress is gorgeous,
you
are gorgeous, and all you have to do is walk down there and say ‘I do.’”

“I have to say a little more than that.” She steps back to face the mirror, and I straighten the front of her long, flowing skirt. The lace across her bodice is so delicate, and the spaghetti straps are perfectly fitted to her elegant shoulders.

I’m wearing a sky blue dress made in a similar design as Ava’s. It’s mid-thigh length with a swishy, flowing skirt. The cut is empire waist to allow for my growing baby bump, and it has a sweetheart neckline and delicate, cap sleeves.

“It’s all a bunch of repeat after me stuff,” I say.

“Help me with this tiara.”

The unique headpiece is in the shape of a large flower at her temple and covered in dozens of sparkling diamonds. It extends over her head like a headband, and her long hair hangs in flowing waves down her back.

“You look amazing.” I can’t help it. Tears heat my eyes.

“Oh!” she cries. “Don’t cry! You’ll make me cry!” I rush to the window and snatch up the tissue box.

“Quick—look up at the ceiling and do math in your head.” Her brow wrinkles.

“Does that work?”

That makes me laugh. “Even if it doesn’t, you’re not crying now.”

“I’m too nervous to cry.”

The queen enters the room at that point, and everyone stops chattering and bows. Ava and I do a brief curtsey, and she waves dismissively. She’s dressed in a blue one-piece sheath with a long, matching coat on top. A small blue hat with a matching netted veil is on her head, and that ever-present, three-stranded pearl necklace is beneath her collar.

“That’s enough. Are you ready to go out, Ava?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” my sister says softly, reaching for my hand.

I give hers a firm squeeze, and as maid of honor, I step around to help with her dress and flowers.

“You don’t need much help with your dress,” I say.

“You look very beautiful,” the queen says in her stern voice, startling us.

I step behind Her Majesty and make big, teasing eyes at Ava.
A compliment!
I mouth, and she blinks away, doing her best not to laugh.

“Thank you,” Ava says.

“You look like Bridgette Bardot,” the queen says, turning to me.

“Wow! Really? Thanks.” I feel truly complimented, whether she meant it that way or not. It’s hard to know with this woman.

My hair is styled in a barrette with a jeweled flower clipped over it. The rest is down my back in waves like my sister’s. I give it a quick check in the mirror, and we step out into the large foyer, where ironically, Reggie waits to escort my sister into the car that will take us to Saint Augustine’s, the enormous old church where the wedding will take place.

“And here you thought this would be me,” I can’t help teasing.

“Perhaps.” Reggie cuts his blue eyes at me. “Perhaps not.”

I hesitate a moment, wondering if he knew it would turn out this way all along. We don’t have time to discuss it. A car is waiting for us under the covered back patio, where a tent has been set up around the door to prevent early photographs of Ava in her dress.

“Paparazzi again,” I tease her as we settle into the car. “I forgot how much I hate those guys.”

“I think they’ve succeeded in blinding me,” she quips. “I hardly even see them anymore.”

“They’re a menace,” the queen grumbles, looking out the window from where she sits beside her brother. “Willing to kill us for a simple photograph.”

I don’t like that sentiment. Ava nervously plays with her bouquet, and I put my hand on her forearm reassuringly. She takes mine and smiles.

“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper. “Hajib is with us.”

It’s a short drive to the church. Our trusted driver stops the car at the end of an intimidatingly long red carpet. Reggie steps out to escort the queen into the enormous edifice, leaving just the two of us in the car. Ava turns to me and grips both my hands in hers.

“We’ve come a long way since that rainy night in the ditch,” I say, smiling through the tears.

“I’d never be here without you.” Her voice is soft and tears glisten in her eyes.

I dig in my hidden pocket for the tissue. “Here.” I touch her eyes gently. “No more tears. It’s your fairytale.”

She leans forward, and we hug each other a long moment. I think about my mom and I hope she can see us from above. I know she’d be so proud of her Ava-bug. She might not think I’ve done too bad myself. The thought makes me smile.

We hear the noise of a throat clearing, and I look up. “The rumor mill is starting over this delay,” Hajib teases.

“Tell them to keep their shirts on.” I scoot toward the door. “You got this, Ava-bug. I’m right behind you.”

She nods, and we step out of the limo into the next chapter of our lives.

A
n endless stream
of ups and downs and vows and songs and sermons and pictures, and I’m finally in Cal’s arms on the dance floor.

“I’m going to send Ava a personal thank you note for this dress,” he says, with that naughty grin. “Your legs stole the show.”

“You’re not too shabby yourself,” I reply, running my finger over the epaulet on his military coat. “Hot.”

“It’s a chick magnet.”

“Oh, really?” My eyes narrow.

He laughs lightly. “No.”

“Come now, MacCallum,” I tease. “Don’t be modest. I’m sure the Captain of the Caribiniers bags lots of babes.”

“The number is way down as of late,” he says, playfully serious. “It’s actually been stuck at
one
for quite some time now.”

“One very happy babe.” I stretch up and kiss his cheek before placing my temple against his square jaw. We’re still dancing, and I curl my fingers in his soft brown hair. “Sir Sexy Cal.”

“What’s that?” He pulls back, grinning.

“The first night we met you were wearing this coat.” I think about the charity ball, him knocking me off balance from the start. “I’d never been attracted to a man in uniform. I’m usually ready to run when I see one.”

“No worries. I’ve become accustomed to running after you.”

That makes me laugh. We’re interrupted by the announcement of the King and Queen of Monagasco. Ava and Rowan arrive in all their pomp and circumstance, and a sad twinge tightens my stomach. Cal doesn’t miss a thing. The music resumes, and I’m back in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“She seems so far away from me now,” I say. “Like she’s moved to another world, and I’m left behind.”

He slides his thumb over my hand. “Everyone’s excited about the coronation and the wedding. Give it a week or two. It’ll die down, and you’ll be just the same. Look at Ro and me.”

My voice is quiet. “I hope so.”

“Anyway, you’ll be the Duchess of Dumaldi, wife of the heir presumptive… You’ll be as snotty as the rest of those titled biddies.”

“I can’t do all this again,” I say with a sigh. “I’m exhausted… and I miss our villa.”

He holds me close. “I’m taking you home first thing tomorrow.”

Our eyes meet, and relief washes over me. “You make me so happy.”

“I plan to keep on making you happy for a long, long time.”

I lean in against his shoulder, and a naughty idea makes me smile. “I know what will make you happy.” My voice is low and sultry and right at his ear. “I’m not wearing panties.”

“Time to go.” He stops dancing and steps back, gripping my hand to escort me off the floor.

I’m laughing when I notice the crowd has parted. A tall woman in a crown and a flowing white dress is making her way quickly toward us. I look up, and tears heat my eyes. It’s Ava.

“Zee?” She hurries straight to me, pulling me into a hug. “I kept looking around the room, and I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m here, Ava-bug.” I reach up to move a dark wave off her cheek. “Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to say thank you. I wanted to hug you. We’re leaving for our honeymoon tomorrow, and Cal said you were going back to Tortola.” Her green eyes are round, and I recognize that look. “It feels like everything is changing.”

“Only logistically,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You’ll come and visit us, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Her voice is high, and I pull her close for another, longer hug.

“You were born for this,” I say with conviction. “You’re going to be fine. And Rowan makes you happy, right?”

She’s quiet a moment before a little smile touches her lips. “Very happy.”

“That’s the most important thing. Everything else will fall into place.”