Reluctantly Royal
Page 10

“You’re hating on the wrong brother.” I made a big show of sipping from my cup. “I didn’t knock you up.”
“Let me smell it.” She held her hand out. “I just want to remember what it tastes like.”
“Don’t torture yourself.” I laughed while Alex playfully slapped her hand.
“I don’t miss the wine, or being able to stay awake past eight o’clock in the evening, but I do miss my coffee.” Her sigh was so sad it almost made me feel bad for her. Almost.
“You could always drink decaf,” I said.
“Blech. That’s like Oreos without cream in the center. Just a mean tease.” She made a face.
“What is it you keep saying?” Every time she came across something she couldn’t or shouldn’t do while pregnant she would mumble under her breath with gritted teeth.
“It’ll be worth it.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to calm herself or catch a sniff of the coffee. “It’ll be worth it.”
“What’s your mantra going to be when the baby is up at two in the morning?”
She didn’t answer, just flung a piece of apple in my direction.
“Leave her alone,” Alex said. “She didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Yeah, I heard, remember?”
“I mean it, smart ass. The baby kept her up all night.” Alex looked at Sam with a disgustingly sappy look. It normally made me sick, but we were all protective of Sam, especially now. Her morning sickness was more like all-the-time sickness. Not to mention it had lasted way past the first three months.
“Sick again?” I tried to keep the concern out of my voice.
“A little.” She shrugged and rubbed her belly. “The little bean was grumpy.”
“Might have been all that bouncing around.” I bit into my croissant and hoped they didn’t notice that I was worried. Sam was usually active and lively, but lately she seemed to be dragging.
“Oh, shut it.” Sam glared at me. “You’re just jealous that you’re not getting any.”
“I don’t have time for the drama.” Setting the croissant down, I took a big slurp of coffee. That would teach her for picking on me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing a lunch event with Mother?” Alex asked.
“I canceled.” I shrugged. It wasn’t like it was the first time I’d backed out of an event she’d tried to force me into. She probably had expected it.
“I told her you would.” Alex shook his head.
“And yet she keeps trying to get me to do things.” I frowned. “You’d think she’d figure it out.”
“Mother just wants you to be more comfortable with it.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
Sam opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the dining room door being opened. The butler stepped in and cleared his throat.
“Lady Meredith of Thysmer.” He bowed his head before motioning for someone to walk in the door.
I stood up and set my napkin down as the feisty redhead walked into the room. Was it my imagination, or did the room seem to brighten just a little? I couldn’t help the way my eyes traveled over her perfect legs and along her delicious body. The skirt she was wearing hugged every curve, and the slight sweater over her shirt draped open in an inviting way. Her hair hung over one shoulder in gentle waves, and I found myself wondering if it was as soft to touch as it looked.
Alex cleared his throat as he too stood, and I quickly tried to cover up the fact that I had been staring.
“Meredith.” I bowed my head before motioning to the table. “Would you care to join us for a late breakfast?”
“I’ve eaten, but some tea would be nice.”
“We have some peppermint tea, if you’d like.” Sam motioned to the teapot near her.
“That would be great.” There was a sway in Meredith’s walk as she crossed the room that was almost hypnotizing. I looked over at Alex to see if he had noticed, but his eyes were trained back on Sam as she poured tea into an empty cup and passed it across the table.
Hurrying around the table, I pulled the chair out for Meredith and slid it back in as she sat.
“Thank you.” Her voice was husky as she looked up at me with half-lidded eyes.
“You’re welcome.” I cleared my throat and moved back to my seat.
“You look wonderful.” She smiled at Sam and I felt that tug again. As if she had captured me in a web, something pulling at me—pulling me toward her. “I’m guessing from the peppermint tea that you’re still having morning sickness.”
“Ugh, yes.” Sam frowned. “And thanks, but I don’t feel wonderful. I feel fat and tired.”
“How far along are you?” Meredith poured cream into her tea.
“Five months.” Sam smiled. “I thought I’d feel better by now.”
“Hang in there. I had morning sickness for what felt like forever, but by the middle of the fifth month I woke up one morning and felt wonderful.” She reached out and squeezed Sam’s hand.
“God, I hope that happens to me.” Sam smiled wistfully.
“It’ll be worth it,” Meredith said, and I chuckled.
“That’s her mantra,” I explained when she turned to look at me.
“It’s a good one.” Meredith picked up her tea and took a sip. “I’m sorry to crash your breakfast.”