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The Royal Wedding: A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy, Book 2 by Melanie Summers, MJ Summers (2)

Two

What Not to Say About a Newborn…

Arthur

“Oh, Christ, is that him?” I ask my bodyguard, Ollie, who’s sitting in the passenger seat of the limo. I’m tucked safely in the back behind bulletproof tinted windows, which allow me to observe the ridiculous specimen my father hired to look after Tessa.

Ollie turns his head to face me and nods while rolling his eyes. “Apparently, Your Highness, but I can find a way to get rid of him if you like.”

The vehicle rolls to a stop in front of the Sharpe home. “So long as his head isn’t filled with muscle rather than brain matter, he can stay.”

I open the back door before my driver, Ben, has a chance to get out and do it for me. My time with Tessa has certainly changed me in a lot of little—and not so little—ways.

New bodyguard steps toward me and nods. “Good evening, Your Highness; all ready for the big date, are we?”

He gives me a large grin, and I can almost imagine a glint of sparkling light coming from those shockingly white teeth of his.

“The important thing is if Ms. Sharpe is ready.” I give him a smile and a nod.

“Yes, sir, she should be. I gave her the T minus five minutes almost six minutes ago.” He taps his watch with one finger and smiles confidently.

“Well, thank you for that,” I say as I jog up the steps and to the front door, then give it a sound knock.

Thunderous footsteps are heard behind the door and it swings open, revealing the faces of several of Tessa’s adorable nephews and nieces, all grinning up at me, no doubt hoping for presents or treats. “Hello, kids, is your aunt ready?”

I am immediately bombarded by hugs from the sticky-fingered brood. They all start talking at once, their words jumbling together. Oddly enough, I do make out the words “Excalibur” and “naked” coming from one of them. Just when I’m starting to feel very concerned, Evi’s voice comes from the top of the stairs, “Oh, now, children, go have some lemon tarts and let the prince get himself settled.”

“I think they may have already helped themselves,” I say, wiping pastry bits and yellow custard off the front of my trousers as the kids run off to the kitchen.

Reuben pokes his head out from the television room and glares at me. “Big plans tonight?”

The way he asks the question is meant to tell me that if I have big plans with his daughter I need to inform him first, unlike what happened last weekend when I surprised her by proposing to her on what was meant to be a very romantic hot air balloon ride. I give him a conciliatory smile. “Just a quiet dinner for two at Chez Lawrence.”

Evi comes to my rescue once again. “That sounds just lovely, Arthur. We’re going to have a nice quiet night to ourselves as soon as the children all get picked up.” She glances at the door. “Isa’s on her way to get her brood, but Lars should have been here by now and I haven’t had a word from him.”

The phone rings and she disappears down the hall toward the kitchen. “Excuse me, Arthur—that’s probably him now.”

Reuben disappears back into the TV room, leaving me standing alone on the mat at the front door for a moment. Then I hear her voice, and it’s the sweetest sound I think I’ve ever known.

“Hello, handsome.” She descends the stairs quickly, rushing into my arms before I have a chance to get a good look at her. But I’ll forgive her not letting me really see her, since now she’s doing that wonderful thing she does when she presses her body up against mine and kisses me hard on the mouth. Mmm, she tastes good.

“God, I missed you,” I murmur in her ear. “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can do very naughty things to you.”

She pulls back a bit and grins. “Like what?”

The moment is interrupted by a shriek from the kitchen. “Quick! Everybody in the car! The baby’s coming!”

Reuben is the first to make it down the hall to the front door to get his shoes. He’s soon followed by his grandchildren and his flushed wife, whose hands and mouth work at a furious pace. She passes out coats to each of the children while she issues orders to us all. “Hurry now, it’s her fifth baby so it won’t take long and I’m not going to miss it this time! Knox, put your shoes on. Stephen, come here! You’ve got custard all over your cheeks, love.”

I watch in horror as she licks her fingers and wipes his grimacing face.

“We’ll need a ride, Arthur—we can’t fit all the kids in the car. Outside with you!” She taps Knox on the shoulder and points to the door.

“Reuben, you follow in our car and stop by Lars and Nina’s for the overnight bag. It’s sitting at the back door. They forgot it.”

In under a minute coats are zipped, shoes are tied, and we’re all seated in the back of the limo while she barks at Ben to get to Valcourt Hospital as fast as he can.

Tessa, who is at the far end of the limo, sandwiched between the ruffian twins, Geoffry and Josh, mouths, ‘I’m sorry,’ to me.

I give her a wink. No problem, it’s her fifth baby. Like Evi said, how long could it take to push this one out of a well-paved path?

* * *

A long, long time, apparently. We’ve now been seated in the hallway of the maternity ward for three hours with four anxious, bored boys. Tessa’s sister-in-law, Isa, zipped by and picked up her children, so we’re left with Lars and Nina’s kids, who are waiting to find out if their mum finally gets the girl she’s been trying for.

The lights are so bright that I wouldn’t mind wearing sunglasses if it wouldn’t make me seem like a total douche bag trying to disguise himself. I’ve had to cancel our dinner. Shame, really. I had a lovely private room picked out for us there, and had to call ahead to pre-order the chocolate soufflés. Well, Vincent, my assistant, called ahead, and then I texted him to have him cancel. But it was my idea, so I should at least get some of the credit.

Evi is in with Nina and Lars, leaving Tessa and me with a very surly and worried Reuben, Ollie, and Mr. Missing Neck, who’s been doing squats against the wall for the last twenty minutes. The twins have decided to join him and are making farting sounds every time they squat down, then laughing hysterically on the way back up.

Ollie has had word from Ben that a small crowd of journalists is waiting outside for us to come out, apparently needing to hear it from me first-hand that we’re really here to welcome a new member to Tessa’s family and not for some other, more scandalous, reason. I could pop down and say a few words so they could all go home, but I prefer to reward the persistence of those who stick it out to find out there is literally no story to report.

The ironic thing is that one of Tessa’s work mates is among the crowd, and has even sent her a text to try to get the scoop straight from the horse’s mouth. She’s not answering it, under the pretense of having her mobile shut off due to hospital policy. Poor Tessa. The day after our engagement, her boss sat her down to let her know that she was sorry, but they’d have to report on her just like everyone else in the Royal Family. She did promise not to take photos or report on her while at work, though, so I suppose her boss isn’t completely evil. But still, what an awkward position to be in. I’m not sure if that whole business is what’s on Tessa’s mind, but I can tell something is bothering her by the way she keeps staring off into space with her eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I say.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just a little anxious for the baby to arrive.”

“You sure there’s nothing else?”

“I’m fine, really.” She sighs. “Well, I was just thinking how strange it is that the guy who I picked up a latte for this morning is currently waiting outside to get photos of us.”

Yup. Knew it. “Yes, it would seem I’ve complicated your life as far as your career goes.”

“I should’ve read the fine print.” Tessa gives me a wry smile.

I chuckle, and bump her shoulder with mine. “Buyer beware, but you can’t take it back now. A promise is a promise.”

Her smile fades after a few seconds. “I mean, on some level I knew this would happen but…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it would happen so fast or in such an all-encompassing way. I know that makes me ridiculously naive.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. You need to allow more than a week to adjust to life in the public eye. In my case, the paparazzi have always been there in the background from the moment I was conceived. They’re a part of life, like…morning breath or prostate exams after forty.”

Laughing, Tessa says, “Is that the category my colleagues fall under?”

“Not everyone in your profession, but most.”

She stares off into space again, then mutters, “I’m going to have to quit, aren’t I?”

Nodding, I say, “I didn’t want to suggest it—modern relationship and all that—but, yes.”

The look on her face is one of muted shock and it squeezes my heart a bit. I give her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how it can work for you to be both the author and subject of the news.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“If I had my way you’d never have to give up anything you love.”

She stares at her hands for a long moment, then puts on a brave face and looks up at me. “I’m not giving anything up. I’m trading one dream for a much better one.”

Not caring who sees, I plant a big kiss on her mouth. “Christ, I love you.”

She gets that twinkle in her eye, then says, “You better. I’m giving up my career for you.”

Leaning into her ear, I whisper, “Yes, but I’ve been told the perks are huge.”

* * *

An hour later, we get our hopes up when Evi comes out of the birthing room, but it turns out she’s only going on another ice-chip run. What do they do with all these ice chips? I’d Google it but I’m afraid of the images that might pop up.

Tessa rests her head on my shoulder and says, “I’m glad you’re here even though I’m sure you’re not.”

I lace my fingers through hers and give them a squeeze. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” And the odd thing is that it’s true. “I’d rather spend an eternity with you in this horrid hallway than be apart from you for another week.”

Tessa lifts her head and smiles at me, looking a little teary-eyed. “You know what’s crazy? That’s exactly how I feel.”

“We’re a pair of lunatics.”

Mr. Missing Neck, who clearly has been eavesdropping while he does arm raises with a twin hanging from each forearm, says, “That’s because you two are madly in love. That’s where the phrase comes from. Madly in love. Get it? Because you’re mad for each other.”

Tessa smiles at me but speaks to him. “You’re exactly right, Xavier.”

Oh, so that’s his name. “Listen, Xavier, you certainly have a way with the children. Would you mind helping watch them for a moment so Tessa and I can pop down to the cafeteria for a tea?”

Reuben raises one eyebrow. “Is that what you’re calling it these days? A tea?”

“Dad! He meant a tea, for goodness’ sake.” She shoots him a warning look.

Reuben withers, but just a bit, then nods. “I can watch my own grandkids.”

“I’m happy to stay, sir. I love children!” Xavier, who now has all four boys hanging off his arms, adds.

I stand quickly and pull Tessa to her feet. “Excellent. Thanks, mate. We’ll be back in a flash.”

We hurry down the hall together, then turn the corner and run into a woman pushing a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. Both their faces light up with recognition. She smiles broadly at me and squeals out, “Your Highness!” Then looks at Tessa and her face falls, while the man notices Tessa first and says, “The Royal Watchdog!” then he glances at me and his face falls.

“You’re still with him, then?” he says, sounding thoroughly disgusted.

The woman pipes up, sounding equally nonplussed. “He proposed to her last week on a hot air balloon. Did you not see it on the news? They accidentally ended up in the Netherlands?”

“No, I’ve been in ICU, remember, Phyllis?” He turns and glares up at her.

“How could I forget, Daniel? I was sitting in a sodding chair in the hall the entire time so now, each time I move, my back reminds me of how I spent the week.”

“Yes, that whole hot air balloon ride didn’t quite turn out the way I’d planned,” I say, smiling at the woman. “Did you know you can’t determine the direction of a balloon? Only up or down.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Of course, we knew that. Even a small child could work that out.”

“No need to be rude to the prince! Just because you’re a little under the weather.”

Daniel looks at Tessa and points behind him with one thumb. “A little under the weather, she says. I’ve had both me lungs replaced.”

“Yes, well, if you hadn’t been smoking like a bloody chimney since you were a teenager, maybe you’d still be on your first set.” Phyllis looks at me. “You might want to rethink the whole marriage thing.”

“Yes, you might,” Daniel tells Tessa.

“Well, at least you both agree on that,” I say, then I give them a bow. “Wonderful to meet you both. I wish you a speedy recovery, Daniel.”

Tugging Tessa by the hand, I head straight for the stairwell. Ollie is following at a respectful distance. I turn to him. “I’ve got it from here.”

He gives me a knowing look. “I’ll wait here, sir.”

The second we’re alone I turn her to me, ready to crush her lips with mine. She looks up at me, clearly worried.

“Don’t worry about them. They obviously hated each other from day one.”

“So did we.”

“Yes, but we got over that and now we like each other very much.” I kiss her wildly on the mouth, pressing her up against the cement wall. Tessa’s mind seems to be put at ease based on that little moaning sound that just escaped her throat. We snog each other senseless for several minutes, coming dangerously close to doing things a prince definitely cannot do in public, before we finally pull away from each other, panting and straightening our clothes. I grin down at Tessa, whose cheeks are flushed and whose hair looks like she’s been doing exactly what we were just doing.

I press my forehead to hers. “I can’t bear the thought of you going back home to your parents’ tonight.”

“Me neither. I miss you so much,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.

“Maybe you could stay over?”

“My parents’ll need my help with the boys.”

“Right. Damn. Tomorrow night, then?”

“Don’t you have that dinner with the Australian Prime Minister?”

“Shit. Yes. Sunday?”

“I can’t stay over. I have an early work meeting on Monday morning.”

“This is ridiculous. We’ve gone from living together to barely seeing each other.” I sigh. “What would you say to getting married as soon as possible?”

“I’d say, is there a judge who’d do it right now?”

“Oh, I chose the right girl.” She couldn’t care less about the huge televised event and the designer gown. She just wants to be with me. “If there was no one else to consider, I’d be whisking you off to Vegas so we could have Elvis marry us.”

“The King marrying a future king.” Tessa laughs, then she says, “But you owe it to the people to let them share in the festivities.”

“True.” I nod. “Plus, imagine how pissed your dad would be at me if we had the wedding without him. If he had his way, he’d have been in the balloon with us for the proposal.”

“Good point,” she says. “How long can it possibly take to plan a royal wedding?”

“How long can it take for a woman to have her fifth baby?”

That long?”

“Almost. For a lesser man, eighteen months, but I bet I can get it done in six.”

“Six?” Her eyes grow wide.

“Excited or terrified?”

“Both.” She lifts herself on her tiptoes and gives me a light kiss on the lips. “Excited to be marrying you, terrified of the wedding.”

“Don’t be. All you have to do is make it down the aisle and I’ll be right beside you the rest of the way.” I give her a lingering kiss on the lips and feel the moment when her entire being relaxes into me. It’s the most powerful feeling, to be able to affect a woman like this. Rather intoxicating.

Just when I’m getting extremely…umm…cocky, she pulls back. “Can we really do it in six months?”

“If I have anything to say about it, we will.”

She leans in and we’re back to kissing, and I’m pretty sure we’re about to break at least two of the public decency laws until we’re interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Ms. Sharpe, you’re needed elsewhere.” Ollie’s muffled voice makes its way through the steel door.

We scramble to get ourselves looking halfway presentable then I swing the door open, expecting to see Ollie standing alone. “Thank…”

Reuben, who’s standing next to Ollie, folds his arms across his chest. “Tea, eh?”

I break out in a cold sweat, feeling like I did when I was eight and I got caught drawing a mustache on the painting of the late Queen Liliana. There is literally nothing I can say to fix this, is there?

He shakes his head and turns. “The baby’s here.”

* * *

Eugenia Rosemund Sharpe. That’s the name with which they’ve saddled the poor little doll. She’s adorable, by the way. Chubby and pink, with enormous bright blue eyes and the tiniest little fingernails I’ve ever seen.

Evi hands her to me almost as soon as we get into the room. “Have you ever held a baby this new before?” she asks quietly.

“No.” My heart explodes with some sort of strangely amazing happiness as I stare down at her little face. I’m terrified of dropping her, but absolutely mesmerized at the same time. Yes, I think I’d like having one of these very much. “Have you ever seen such tiny fingernails? Sorry, I just can’t get over them. They’re so…tiny.”

I glance at Tessa for the briefest of seconds, which is about as long as I can tear my gaze from this baby. “Let’s do this. Right away.”

Tessa gasps in shock. “We only just got engaged.”

“So what? We’re not teenagers.”

Eugenie opens her eyes and stares at me. I coo at her, “Your Auntie Tessa and I are going to get married in six months. Yes, we are. Yes, we are.”

Evi makes a very quiet squealing sound and touches her new granddaughter’s cheek. “You’ve just come into the world and already you’ve inspired new love, little Eugenia Rosemund.”

I smile. “That’s because she’s just so perfect.”

Tessa stands next to me and runs her fingers gently over Eugenie’s head. “She certainly is.”

Except, now that I really look, her head isn’t so much round as it is oblong in a rather alarming sort of way. Dear God, that is really pointy—like one of those Coneheads from Saturday Night Live back when I was a kid. “Is her…head okay? It’s rather pointy…”

“What?” Nina barks. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Shit. Why the fuckity fuck did I say that out loud?

Lars comes over and scoops the baby out of my arms, glaring at me. “It’s perfectly normal for the head to get a little squished on the way out. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

Evi deftly covers Eugenia’s conehead with a little wool hat.

Good job, Grandmum—hide the deformity before anyone else notices.

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