The Heir: A Contemporary Royal Romance Read online

  THE HEIR

  Georgia Le Carre

  Contents

  Title Page

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  CRYSTAL JAKE

  Acknowledgments

  Quote

  Prologue

  Quote

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Quote

  Chapter 22

  Quote

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Quote

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Quote

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Quote

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Quote

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Quote

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Quote

  Chapter 55

  Quote

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Quote

  Epilogue

  Anecdote

  Fun Bonus

  Coming Soon…

  EXTRACT FROM VIRGIN

  Afterword

  The Heir

  I thought he was a player.

  How could I have possibly known what he really was?

  Georgia Le Carre

  Author’s Note

  I know that many of you have been waiting for the last Eden brother. My next release, Virgin, Tyson Eden’s story is available now on pre-order. An excerpt and live links are included for you in this Kindle File!

  For all those readers who are not familiar with the Eden family, I’ve included The Complete Eden series here so you can get acquainted with that bad boy, or maybe re-acquainted before Tyson Eden arrives.

  Thanks to all my readers and I hope you enjoy the books!

  Many thanks to:

  Editors: Caryl Milton, Elizabeth Burns

  Contributors: IS Creations

  Cover Designer: ReddHott Covers

  Proofreader: http:// http://nicolarheadediting.com/

  Last minute proofing : Brittany Urbaniak & Tracy Gray

  The Heir

  Copyright © 2017 by Georgia Le Carre

  The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  You can discover more information about Georgia Le Carre and future releases here.

  https://www.facebook.com/georgia.lecarre

  https://twitter.com/georgiaLeCarre

  http://www.goodreads.com/GeorgiaLeCarre

  978-1-910575-64-2

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Rosa

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BT4GIljqr-A

  (Can’t take my eyes off you)

  “Ciao bella.”

  The voice is dripping honey with a hint of something dark and delicious, but that trite phrase, though. Someone please stop me from picking up my fork and stabbing it into his crotch. I let my eyes wander away from the white tablecloth. Hang on! That is one full crotch. Looks like there is something very large tucked away beneath those fine black trousers. Hmmm …

  A little higher. All right. The man works out. If my washing machine packs up I could wash my clothes on his abs.

  I let my eyes travel even higher. Did someone say pecs and abs? Drool, drool.

  Whoa. Open shirt.

  Two buttons undone: check.

  Chest hair: check.

  Gold chain: check.

  St Tropez tan: check.

  Black hair curling over the collar: Check.

  What a shame. Mediterranean playboy, obviously. Still, I’m a sucker for a brown throat.

  No, no, no, not a chin dimple as well. A little above the lickable dimple a sensual mouth is slightly twisted into a mocking smile. Yup, life’s just not fair.

  Eyes. Jesus. H. Christ. Pools of smooth whiskey that you just want to drown in. There’s no longer any doubt. He’s obviously slept with tons of women.

  The mouth opens. “You know, I’ve never banged a bridesmaid before.”

  Why does God make such good-looking assholes? “Looks like today’s not your lucky day either,” I say dryly.

  The smug smile becomes wider, the man is oozing confidence and something else. Something that makes me want to bite him. On his butt. He lowers that wonderful body into the chair opposite. “On the contrary, I think today is that day.”

  “Oh yeah? How do you reckon that? There are three of us. Raven is pregnant, Cindy is taken, and I’m not interested.”

  He leans back and looks at me curiously. “What makes you think you’re not interested?”

  “What makes you think I am?” I counter.

  “Because I’d make the perfect one-night stand.”

  I look at the rose petal floating in my glass of champagne. Star will be so irritated to see it. She expressly said she didn’t want it. I look into his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m not looking for a one-night stand.”
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  He grins. He has splendid teeth. All white and gleaming. “Ah, but you are a career woman. You have no time for relationships and long-term commitment.”

  Something in my belly melts. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  There is very little air in my lungs suddenly. “I’m not fucking you.”

  “Ten bucks says you do.”

  “What would I do with ten bucks in this country?” I ask scornfully.

  “I’ll take you to America and you can spend it there.”

  “That’s not how one-night stands work.”

  “No, I meant I’ll fly you there tonight. We’ll have sex in a great hotel, then you can spend your money in the morning.”

  “If I have sex with you then I won’t have the ten bucks to spend, will I?”

  “You’ll have more than ten bucks.” He takes an expensive looking wallet out of his trouser pocket and fishes out five crisp hundred-dollar bills and lays them on the table.”

  WTF! My eyes widen with shock. I look at the money and his large, bronzed hand, a gold watch peeping from a snowy white sleeve, slowly sliding away on the white tablecloth. How dare he? Calmly, I take my gaze back to his face. “First of all, five hundred dollars? How cheap are you? And second, do I look like a prostitute to you?”

  “First of all: Baby, come with me and I’ll make this ten, twenty, fifty, or even a hundred thousand? Name your price.” He shrugs. “Secondly: you don’t pay a woman to have sex with her, you pay her to leave after sex, and we both know you’ll probably sneak out in the morning before I wake up.”

  I cross my arms and his eyes drop to my breasts. “Excuse me. My face is up here, buster.”

  “I know exactly where your face is, bella. I was looking at your boobs.”

  I glare at him. “It’s a bit sad when you have to flash Daddy’s money around just to get laid.”

  “Very sad,” he agrees with a grin, completely unaffected by my insult.

  “Who are you?” I demand. He’s obviously from the groom’s side.

  “I’m Dante D’Angelo, and you are Rosa.”

  My lips part. In spite of myself I’m flattered that he was interested enough to find out my name. “How do you know that?”

  “I asked the bride.”

  I nod. “So how do you know the groom?”

  “We’re friends.” For the first time, something in his eyes change. My mind notes the shift. He’s not all player, there’s something more beneath the glittering facade.

  He leans forward slightly, his whiskey eyes swirling with desire. “Do you want to know what the bride told me?”

  I frown. What on earth could Star have told him about me. “What?”

  “She said, you would be perfect for me.”

  My eyes dart to the dance floor. She is slow-dancing, her cheek laying on her new husband’s chest. I don’t know what I expected, but never that. She’s usually so rational and down to earth. The stress of the wedding must have affected her so much she’s told a pampered, Italian playboy I’m perfect for him. Either that or he’s lying.

  “Well, I’m not going to bed with you.” My voice is absolutely firm. I’ll never go to bed with a shallow beast like him. Never. Not in a million years. He can take his gorgeous teeth, and his splendid shoulders, and his laughing, teasing eyes, and his … his … full crotch, and shove it all up his ass.

  Chapter 2

  Rosa

  One Month Later

  “You’re what?” Star screams in my ear.

  I hold the phone away. “I’m pregnant,” I repeat.

  “How?”

  “The usual way, I guess?”

  “Who?” Poor thing is so shocked she’s shooting one word questions at me.

  “You’ll never believe me if I told you.”

  “Who?” she demands aggressively.

  “Dante D’Angelo.”

  “What?” she explodes.

  “Do you want me to repeat his name or are you just saying that for effect?”

  “But you used a condom.”

  “Yeah, we did. I was thinking of suing the makers when I happened to read the packaging. Did you know that there is a one percent chance of getting pregnant even when you use a condom? It says so right here on the packaging.”

  “No.”

  “Those are terrible odds. God, if I had known earlier I would have made him wear two layers, but that would only reduce the odds to one in two hundred. We need a new invention. Either that or we’ll all have to stop having all this sex and—”

  “Rosa, are you okay?”

  “What do you think? I’m calling you from my bathroom floor.”

  “Did you fall? Are you all right? Do you want me to come around?”

  “No. Yes. No. I … err … am sitting propped up against the bath. I don’t think it has properly registered yet. I’m saving my total meltdown for later.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Do you need an audience for that? I’m in Mayfair so I can pop around.”

  “It won’t be pretty,” I warn. I can already feel my body starting to shake. Mother of God, I’m pregnant.

  “How many times did you do the test?”

  “Five.”

  “Right. You’re pregnant.”

  “You’re hurting my ear, Star.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s that smooth-talking bastard’s fault. He got me into this. I’ve been having sex since I was seventeen, and nothing like this has ever happened. One night with that, that, pampered Casanova and I’m pregnant. Of all the damn men I could have got up the duff with I had to go do it with that shallow womanizer.”

  “Are you going to keep it?” Her voice is neutral, but I can hear the anxiety in it. Star loves kids. She coos at random babies in the street, and she’s been buying and hoarding baby clothes for years now.

  I have a sudden image of Dante’s gleaming, taut body rippling as he thrust into me. I hate him, obviously, but for God’s sake, he removed my panties with his yummy teeth … and he was really, really, reeeeeally good at what he did. I couldn’t walk properly for days afterwards.

  “I don’t know yet,” I say, but even as I am saying it I have an image of a barefoot little urchin with black hair and whiskey eyes running wild in a field. Which is stupid, because I live in one of the most concrete parts of London. I’ll have to drive at least an hour to find a field. Even if I did that I would never trust my child to run barefoot, because of rusty nails, dog poop, and whatever else would be in open fields.

  “Bastard,” I curse soundly, as if it’s all Dante’s fault and I didn’t beg for him to do it harder and faster.

  “You mean you might keep it?”

  “Maybe,” I say slowly.

  “Oh, Rosa,” she breathes excitedly. “You should. It’ll be such fun. I could take care of it while you are at work or when you go out at night. If it gets too much, or you need a break you could drop it off at our place and—”

  “Star,” I interrupt, “do you mind? You’re making a baby sound like a suitcase.”

  “Well, in a way it is.”

  “Yeah, a suitcase full of vomit and poo.”

  “They’re gorgeous,” she defends.

  “They scream all night.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Yes, they do. I have first-hand experience. The brat next door never stops screaming all night.”

  “He has colic.”

  “What if my baby has it?” Jesus, I can’t believe I said that. I’m thinking of the baby as a little person. My little person. All for me. “Oh, my God, Star. I think I’m going to keep the baby.”

  “You’ll have to tell the father then,” she gushes.

  I thought I’d never see him again when I slipped out of his hotel room that morning while he was still asleep. Maybe, I haven’t thought this decision out properly. I’m never, not in a million years, seeing that guy again.