The Prince's Waitress Wife. Sarah Morgan

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The Prince's Waitress Wife - Sarah Morgan Mills & Boon Modern

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sprang into action, and within minutes the rest of his party was leaving the room, knowing looks from the men and sulky glances from the women.

      Ridiculously impressed by this discreet display of authority, Holly wondered how it would feel to be so powerful that you could clear a room with nothing more than a look. And how must it feel to be so secure about yourself that you didn’t care what other people thought about your actions?

      Only when the door of the President’s Suite closed behind them did she suddenly realise that she was now alone with the prince.

      She gave a choked laugh of disbelief.

      He’d just dismissed the most glamorous, gorgeous women she’d ever seen in favour of—her?

      The Prince turned back to her, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous. ‘So.’ His voice was soft. ‘Now we’re alone. How do you suggest we pass the time?’

      CHAPTER TWO

      HOLLY’S stomach curled with wicked excitement and desperate nerves. ‘Thank you for rescuing me from an embarrassing moment,’ she mumbled breathlessly, desperately racking her brains for something witty to say and failing. She had no idea how to entertain a prince. ‘I can’t imagine what you must think of me.’

      ‘I don’t understand your obsession with everyone else’s opinion,’ he drawled. ‘And at the moment I’m not capable of thinking. I’m a normal healthy guy, and every one of my brain cells is currently focused on your gorgeous body.’

      Holly made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. Disbelieving, self-conscious, but hopelessly flattered, she stroked her hands over her skirt, looked at him and then looked towards the door. ‘Those women are beautiful.’

      ‘Those women spend eight hours a day perfecting their appearance. That’s not beauty—it’s obsession.’ Supremely sure of himself, he took possession of her hand, locking her fingers into his.

      Holly’s stomach curled with excitement. ‘We’re not supposed to be doing this. They gave me this job because they thought I wasn’t your type.’

      ‘Major error on their part.’

      ‘They told me you preferred blondes.’

      ‘I think I’ve just had a major shift towards redheads.’ With a wicked smile, he lifted his other hand and carelessly fingered a strand of her hair. ‘Your hair is the colour of a Middle Eastern bazaar—cinnamon and gold. Tell me why you were crying.’

      Caught in a spin of electrifying, exhilarating excitement, Holly’s brain was in a whirl. For a moment she’d actually forgotten about Eddie. If she told him that her boyfriend had dumped her, would it make her seem less attractive?

      ‘I was—’

      ‘On second thoughts, don’t tell me.’ Interrupting her, he lifted her hand, checking for a ring. ‘Single?’

      Detecting something in his tone but too dazed to identify what, Holly nodded. ‘Oh yes, completely single,’ she murmured hastily, and then immediately wanted to snatch the words back, because she should have played it cool.

      But she didn’t feel cool. She felt—relieved that she’d left the engagement ring at home.

      And he was smiling, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her.

      Before she could stop him, he pulled the clip out of her hair and slid his fingers through her tumbling, wayward curls. ‘That’s better.’ Very much the one in control, he closed his fingers around her wrists and hooked her arms round his neck. Then he slid his hands down her back and cupped her bottom.

      ‘Oh.’ Appalled that he seemed to be focusing on all her worst features, Holly gave a whimper of embarrassment and fought the impulse to wriggle away from him. But it was too late to take avoiding action. The confident exploration of his hands had ensured he was already well acquainted with the contours of her bottom.

      ‘Dio, you have the most fantastic body,’ he groaned, moulding her against the hard muscle of his thighs as if she were made of cling film.

      He thought she was fantastic?

      Brought into close contact with the physical evidence of his arousal, Holly barely had time to register the exhilarating fact that he really did find her attractive before his mouth came down on hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

      It was like being in the path of a lightning strike. Her body jerked with shock. Her head spun, her knees were shaking, and her attempt to catch her breath simply encouraged a still more intimate exploration of her mouth. Never in her life had a simple kiss made her feel like this. Her fingers dug into his shoulders for support and she gasped as she felt his hands slide under her skirt. She felt the warmth of his hands against her bare flesh above her stockings, and then he was backing her against the table, the slick, erotic invasion of his tongue in her mouth sending flames leaping around her body and a burning concentration of heat low in her pelvis.

      He was kissing her as though this was their last moments on Earth—as if he couldn’t help himself—and Holly was swept away on the pure adrenaline rush that came with suddenly being made to feel irresistible.

      Dimly she thought, This is fast, too fast. But, even as part of her analysed her actions with a touch of shocked disapproval, another part of her was responding with wild abandon, her normal insecurities and inhibitions dissolved in a rush of raw sexual chemistry.

      Control slipped slowly from her grasp.

      When Eddie had kissed her she’d often found her mind wandering—on occasions she’d guiltily caught herself planning meals and making mental shopping lists—but with the prince the only coherent thought in her head was Please don’t let him stop.

      But she had to stop, didn’t she?

      She didn’t do things like this.

      What if someone walked in?

      Struggling to regain some control, Holly gave a low moan and dragged her mouth from his, intending to take a step back and think through her actions. But her good intentions vanished as she gazed up at his lean, bronzed features, her resolve evaporating as she took in the thick, dark eyelashes guarding his impossibly sexy eyes. Oh, dear God—how could any woman say no to a man like this? And, if sheer masculine impact wasn’t enough, the way he was looking at her was the most outrageous compliment she’d ever received.

      ‘You’re staring at me,’ she breathed, and he gave a lopsided smile.

      ‘If you don’t want men to stare, stay indoors.’

      Holly giggled, as much from nerves as humour. ‘I am indoors.’

      ‘True.’ The prince lifted one broad shoulder in an unmistakeably Latin gesture. ‘In which case, I can’t see a solution. You’ll just have to put up with me staring, tesoro.’

      ‘You speak Italian?’

      ‘I speak whichever language is going to get me the result I want,’ he purred, and she gave a choked laugh because he was so outrageously confident and he made her feel beautiful.

      Basking

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