Home > His Heir, Her Honor (Rich, Rugged And Royal #3)(25)

His Heir, Her Honor (Rich, Rugged And Royal #3)(25)
Author: Catherine Mann

The casual lover was long gone now, replaced by the preoccupied doctor she knew so much better. His gray suit was tailor-made, fine quality, yet it hung a bit loose on his lean muscled body, as if he worked so hard he forgot to eat—or get a haircut. She clenched the armrests to resist the temptation to stroke back the salt-and-pepper hair brushing his brow.

With a muttered curse, he jammed his phone inside his jacket again.

She toyed with a loose string along the hem of her dress, her clothing options becoming limited until she went shopping for maternity jeans. “Anything new about your father’s condition?”

Shifting uncomfortably in his leather seat, he shook his head. “Only a message from my youngest brother confirming our arrival time.”

“I’m sorry. You must be frantic.”

He stared at his hands clasped loosely between his knees. “It’s not like I haven’t known this day was coming soon.”

“We’ve both seen enough cases at the hospital to realize that preparation doesn’t erase the pain.”

“Talking about it won’t change anything.” He waved away her sympathy and straightened abruptly. “I apologize for springing the whole family on you so abruptly. I had planned to hold off on that until the end of our time alone.”

Surprise cut through her. He’d never mentioned planning this trip to meet his relatives. More of those confused and warily hopeful feelings stirred in her gut. “Both of your brothers are already there?”

“My brother Antonio, his wife and stepson. Duarte and his fiancée. And my half sister is there with her husband. I’m surprised she traveled so late in her pregnancy, but Antonio said she’s emphatic about being there.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if battling a headache. “Sorry to introduce so many people at once. The estate is large enough for you to have your own space if you need to escape. My brothers and I each have our own wing. There’s also a guesthouse if you prefer that to staying with me. “

“I’m sure your wing will be fine.”

“The island is secure, without question, but there’s everything you could need there. Our father built it all—from a clinic to a chapel to an ice cream parlor café. He said he wanted us to have ‘normal’ childhood memories, whatever those are.”

“It sounds like your father tried to do his best in an unimaginable situation.”

“The violence directed at our family was very real and damn dangerous.” He extended his legs in front of him, drawing her attention to the way his muscular thighs stretched the fine gabardine, the sinews defined so well that the veneer of luxury didn’t begin to mask the raw power of the man underneath the clothes. “Actually, I appreciated the privacy when I lived there. My brothers hated it on the island, but I didn’t want any part of the real world again.”

Why had he left if he felt that way? Then she realized. “Now I understand how you work those insane hours at the hospital. You actually don’t mind being cut off from day-to-day life.”

Carlos arched an eyebrow, half smiling. “Is that a loaded question to figure out if I can change enough where you could envision living with me?”

Admiration and attraction weren’t going to be enough to make a relationship work. “You’re assuming I’m willing to live with you.”

All humor faded from his face. “I want us to do more than live together. I meant what I said back in the kitchen. I want us to be married.”

Married?

The word still packed a powerful jolt. She knew part of her knee-jerk reaction to the idea had to do with the train wreck that was her parents’ screwed up union. But she knew this would be rushing it.

As much as she didn’t want to upset him when he had such heavy worries about his father, she couldn’t let this marriage nonsense continue. What if he said something in front of his family? “If you keep proposing, I’ll have to sleep in that guesthouse. This was about no pressure, remember?”

“Then let’s back up to the living together.” His eyes narrowed with that sleepy-sexy look she was beginning to recognize so well. “More importantly, let’s get back to not sleeping together.”

His words stirred memories of frantic lovemaking on the counter, bringing the sweet taste of raspberries exploding through her senses like the aftershocks of a world-rocking orgasm. She suspected he wasn’t really serious, but rather found such outrageous talk a distraction from concerns about his father.

All the same, she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, leather creaking as the tension and the need inside her increased. “Now that you’ve mentioned sleeping, I think I’ll catch a catnap for the rest of the flight.”

“Fine,” he said, a wicked gleam mingling with the steam in his eyes. “But remember that bacon cheeseburger and mint milkshake you said you’d been craving? The steward has both ready for you. Of course, I can cancel the order.”

Her mouth watered. And quite frankly, she welcomed the lighter air he seemed determined to inject. Weightier concerns would come soon enough once they landed. “You’re using food to blackmail an expectant mother into conversation? That’s not playing fair.”

“I’m only trying to help,” he said practically. “I want to take care of you. Not just what you eat or helping you with an aching back. Getting married makes sense.”

Deftly, he’d shifted the conversation right back to that confusing proposal of his. What was his real motive for this about face?

Yet what did she want? Her heart clenched as she realized she was more like her mother than she cared to admit, because she did want the fairy-tale romanticism after all. “Thank you, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

Silence stretched between them until she looked away, focusing instead on the view below where Carlos’s family waited. And what about her family? She couldn’t delay calling them for much longer. She just wanted to have her life more settled first.

She wanted to have her feelings for Carlos resolved.

In the distance, an island rested in the middle of the murky ocean. Palm trees spiked from the landscape, lushly thick and so very different from the leafless snowy winter they’d left behind.

Curiosity about Carlos’s home drew her until she nearly had her nose pressed to the glass as she catalogued details. It was a small city unto itself, a surprise splash of lights in the sea so vast that, like a Lite-Brite design on the water, the island began to take shape. A dozen or so small outbuildings dotted a semicircle around a larger structure, what appeared to be the main house, bathed in floodlights.

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