Something in the Heir (It's Reigning Men, #1) (13 page)

In the meantime, Emma noticed that Adrian was holding up the sheet only over the front part of him, and she could see in the nearby mirror that his back half was all hers to reach for if she just moved her hands a few inches downward, which she simply couldn’t resist. It was a moral dilemma whether to look at the mirror, at him, or at her parents, who had no idea what was going on. Finally she had to suck it up and talk to her folks, keeping her hand firmly planted on that gorgeous butt of his nonetheless, hoping no one would notice in the dim light.

“Mom, Dad, or I should say, Ellen, Bob, I’d like you to meet my friend Adrian,” Emma said, finally letting go of Adrian. Only Adrian realized there was no way in hell he was releasing her in this state, what with having had this hot girl pressed up against his sensitive male parts, one with whom he’d already experienced an unrequited make-out session already tonight. Just the mere touch of her body to his, coupled with a flashback to earlier in the evening, was enough to expose Adrian’s true intentions toward their daughter to Bob and Ellen, a fact he would prefer to keep to himself, particularly under the circumstances.

He reached around Emma to shake their hands, holding the sheet around his crotch just so. All the while trying hard not to stare at Emma in her tiny pink camisole top with her luscious exposed belly — the one that was just in the most perfect contact with his own but a few minutes ago — and how much he’d love to be exploring that with his tongue instead of naked-meeting the woman’s parents. All he knew was if his mother learned about this she’d kill him. That was, after frog-marching him down the aisle with that wretched Serena.

Normally Adrian wasn’t naturally inclined to shake hands, being that most people bowed or curtsied in his presence. But he knew protocol was differed in the States, and he knew he had some making up to do in the parent department with Emma’s folks. It was bad enough he was an uninvited guest, but to be one stark naked in their bed, well, he supposed it could be worse. At least he wasn’t in it with their daughter in a mutual state of disrobing. Must look on the bright side...

“So very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Adrian said, “albeit I’d prefer to have done so in a more conventional manner.”

Bob eyed him with a modicum of suspicion even though Emma had already vetted the man. Nevertheless he stuck his own hand out, taking care to not get too close to Adrian in so doing, just in case he’d grab something else by accident. He’d lose his lifetime membership to the Manly Man Club for that type of transgression.

“To what do we owe this, er, surprise?”

“He’s my friend, Daddy,” Emma said. “Adrian and I were working together.”

“Oh, a photographer?”

“Not exactly,” she said, locking eyes with Adrian while trying to discern how much truth she could reveal to her father. “I worked with him recently and we got to be friends.”

Her father looked from his daughter to Adrian and back again, sizing up the situation. The two of them wore game faces, not revealing anything more than one could while barely covered in the middle of the night. The fact that they had been in separate bedrooms on separate floors of the house attested to the veracity of the relationship.

“Not exactly the warmest of hospitality, dropping in on you like we did!” Ellen said, giggling. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that happen to me before! I’m just grateful you weren’t a dead body!”

“Since when have you ever found a body in your bed, Mom?” Emma asked, her eyes wide open, wondering what the heck had gotten into her vivid imagination.

“You missed the beginning of this whole fiasco, honey,” she said. “Your father was being a joker and dropped me on the bed with a thud, right on top of your sleeping young man here.”

Your young man
. Leave it to her mother to slap on the possessive to the relationship. Wishful thinking, much?

“I suppose in hindsight it’s all very funny,” her mother continued. If they only knew Bob plunked her mother down on top of a very naked European prince. Her mother would probably pee her pants in horror at that one. But thank goodness this way Emma could be spared the indignity of maternal matchmaking with an entirely fruitless relationship. Because she’d not put it past her mother to try to pair her up with Adrian. Not that she wouldn’t even without Emma’s unwitting assistance. But throw in the royalty aspect and her mother would need a drool cloth to stop the slavering. Nevertheless, this forced Emma to think quickly to keep her mother from trying to pair the two up. It was what she did best. She winked at Adrian, indicating he needed to play along with her ruse.

“Adrian just got over a relationship with a colleague of his,” Emma said.

“Oh, my, heartbroken over a girl?” her mother asked. She had a little bit of a ditzy old lady squawk to her voice, which sometimes made Emma cringe just a bit, especially when she was turning on the nosey.

“Actually...” Emma said. “His name is Darcy.” She looked from her mother to her father and back again, then glanced at Adrian, who looked ready to flay her, something his ancestors probably did quite readily during the Inquisition. They probably first flayed then fricasseed their enemies over an open pit. While wearing suits of armor. And firing things from catapults. This was the extent of Emma’s recall of European history of yore, so it was good she wasn’t sharing her ignorance with Adrian, who was at that very moment stewing over being wrongfully outed from a closet in which he hadn’t been hiding.

“Oh, so you’re—” her mother started to say, then turned to her daughter. “Why is it the best-looking ones are always gay?”

Emma threw a surreptitious glance at Adrian. If her mother only knew. “I know, it’s so unfair,” Emma said with a pout.

“Excuse me, but—“ Adrian started to say before Emma reached around and squeezed his behind to silence him. She clearly had the perfect touch to get her way, as he closed his mouth right up.

“Even right down to that delightful accent,” her mother added. “Where’d you say you’re from again?”

Emma piped in before Adrian could get a chance. “He’s uh, he’s British. Studying here for a while.”

“Interesting,” Ellen said. “What are you studying?”

“Royalty!” Emma shouted out before giving either of them a chance to come up with something better.

“Why would an Englishman, who is steeped in royalty in England, come to America to study that?” her father chimed in.

Emma felt like she ought to be wearing tap shoes, dancing around this mine-infused conversation as she was. “It’s just that—”

“While there is clearly an American fascination with our royalty,” Adrian said, picking up Emma’s slack, “there’s an equal fascination on why Americans are so obsessed with it. After all, you Yanks went out of your way to get rid of the royals, didn’t you?" He gave her mother a sly wink, which she appreciated, keeping her on the inside and all.

“You mean like with Emma and me waking up in the middle of the night to watch the royal wedding of Kate and William?” Ellen smiled broadly, but Emma turned ten shades of red. Nothing like being called out as a shameless royal-sniffer by your mother in front of a prince to make you feel like a complete schmuck.

“Waking up in the middle of the night?” Bob cackled. “You don’t know the half of it! They had their friends there too, fixed bangers and mash and had English Breakfast tea if I’m not mistaken. Although the bangers and mash were well worth the early wake-up call, mind you.”

Oh Lordie, just shoot me now
.

“Bangers and mash, eh?” Adrian asked Emma, one eyebrow cocked skyward. “What, no Pimm’s Cup?”

“And those ridiculous hats they wore,” her father continued, as Emma mentally melted into a puddle of embarrassment. “Feathers shooting everywhere. Practically poked my eye out. Couldn’t believe they could find such monstrosities in the States. We have pictures if you don’t believe—”

Adrian’s grin grew wider the more details were revealed of Emma’s secret fixation.

“Daddy, let’s stop blathering about nonsense,” she interjected. “It’s late, we’re tired. And I’m sure Adrian would rather conduct a lengthy conversation tomorrow, when he’s more conventionally dressed. Can’t we please just get back to sleep?”

Her mother covered her mouth in surprise. “I forgot! We woke you needlessly! We’re so sorry about that!”

“I won’t even ask what brought you here at such a late hour,” Emma said. “Just let me find my bed already!”

“Why don’t we let your gentleman friend sleep here and we’ll take the fold-out sofa in Emma’s room,” her father offered.

“No, I couldn’t deprive you of your bed, sir,” Adrian said. If he had an ulterior motive in mind, it would be conveniently cloaked in his newfound gay status. “Please, allow me. No need in having the two of you give up your own bedroom.”

Emma’s mother looked at Adrian, then Emma, then Adrian again. To her great dismay, there would be no matchmaking with this one, so she knew Emma’s honor would be well-protected even with this man sleeping in her room. “If you insist,” she said with a tired sigh. “After all, I could use a good night’s sleep and was looking forward to sleeping late in the morning.”

“By all means, madam,” Adrian said with a bow-like flourish, laying it on thick, considering he was still for all intents and purposes virtually naked. Not to mention he wasn’t one to have to bow to anyone in his lifetime.

Emma gritted her teeth and fixed a hard look at Adrian. How in the world was she going to sleep a wink with him in the bed right near her? Naked, no less? Curses, he was too darned clever for his own good. But she could resist his charms. It might take some fortifications, but she could do it.

“Well...if you insist,” Emma’s mom said. “Can I help you make the bed at least?”

Emma interrupted. “No worries, Mom, I’ll deal with that. You just get yourselves to sleep.”

With that she grabbed the tail end of the sheet that had been dragging on the floor near Adrian, and twisted it around him three times, successfully covering up anything about him that might be even remotely tempting. And then she started wondering if she could dig up a snowsuit for him to sleep in for the next few days.

“W
ell
, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.” Emma sighed as she plunked herself down on her bed.

Adrian was too busy gaping at the explosion of pink enveloping him from all corners of the room to reply immediately. Large, pink pipe cleaner flowers, fluffy fuchsia stuffed animals (including a monkey, hippo and platypus), a fuzzy pink telephone even, all competed to distract him from the rest of the world. It was as if the bright color had vomited all over the room in an act of cheery vengeance.

“Let me guess,” he said drily. “You like the color pink?”

“Ya think? Truthfully, when I was a girl my grandmother decided I liked the color pink and so it became my de facto color. I’m relatively neutral for it, when it gets right down to it. But what could I do? I didn’t want to make my grammy feel badly so I just let her do it. And now that she’s gone—” Emma’s voice faltered. “It would be like getting rid of a piece of her to change it at all.”

Adrian had been preparing to repudiate the characterization she’d wrongfully lumped on him, but now that she seemed so sad about her grandmother, how could he even go there? Instead he got up and went over to her and reached out to pull her into a warm hug. Until she pushed him away with both hands.

He squinted his eyes at her. “What was that all about?”

Her eyes tracked him from his ankles to his chest and back again. “Do you really need to ask that? The only thing between you and me is a flimsy bit of eight hundred thread-count cotton. Not gonna happen. I promised myself: no more men.” She shook her head vigorously.

Adrian grimaced, his lips pursed together in frustration. What was with this woman and her ridiculous resolution? Just because there were some bad apples out there didn’t mean he was going to follow suit. Although if he were to be honest with himself, if he thought his mother was outraged by his failure to fall into line over Serena, she’d be downright apoplectic to consider him having any sort of relationship with a commoner from across the drink. There was unreasonable and then there was unreasonable. So maybe Emma wasn’t so off-base after all. While it would be easy to answer those throbbing impulses (and one look down would indicate that adjective wasn’t much of an exaggeration), a moment’s pleasure could lead to a lifetime of Emma hating his guts, and he wasn’t interested in making enemies with her now that they’d become friends. He’d just have to befriend a cold shower.

“Look, Emma, I can’t exactly hide my feelings toward you.’ He looked downward with a sheepish grin. “That happens when you’re only wearing bedclothes. And by that I literally mean the clothes for the bed. But I respect you too much to work my wiles on you. And believe me, my wiles are pretty workable. I suspect we both know we’d have a hard time making a go of it, regardless. Just too many complications.”

Emma snorted. “I’ll say.”

“Believe me, I have enough I’m trying to figure out right now. It would be unfair to both of us for me to throw ‘us’ into the mix. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to kill my mother’s current plan for my life destruction.”

They both laughed at his exaggeration, even though they knew it would destroy the life he’d choose if his mother forced him into a marriage with Serena.

“Friends?” Adrian asked her, his outstretched hand a gesture of solidarity.

“Friends,” she said, shaking his hand. “Now, let’s get you set up in this bed so that we can catch some shut-eye.”

Although she knew shut-eye was far less likely to occur now. She’d be sleeping with one eye open the whole time, worried she’d have to fend off his advances once his own resolve dissolved.

D
arcy
traced his footsteps repeatedly in front of the hostess station at the intimate Italian bistro Caroline had directed him to. He feared he would soon wear a pathway into the tile floor if the woman didn’t get a move on. Clearly she was avoiding public exposure, sending him here, as quiet and secluded as the restaurant seemed. He could barely tell another patron was even dining at the place.