It was all those memories that plagued his thoughts and made him wonder if he shouldn’t have stayed in her bed instead of worrying about his flight home the next morning. But really, what difference would another day or two have made, except maybe to make him even more reluctant to leave the haven of her arms?
Still, he was a prince. He most certainly wasn’t going to let himself get tied up in knots over any woman, and especially not an American bartender. But with each day that passed, the memories he’d expected to dim only grew sharper, and the need inside him grew stronger.
Or maybe he just had too much time on his hands.
He’d been at loose ends since the accident that had prematurely ended his naval career, and without any direction or focus. He’d assumed some duties back home, but as important as he knew the royal family was to the country, he wasn’t sure he could imagine making a career out of public appearances and shaking hands with foreign diplomats.
His recent conversation with Scott hovered in the back of his mind, but he knew the offer to work at DELconnex wasn’t the answer. Or not the whole answer. He wanted something more than a new career. He wanted a wife—a family.
He frowned at that thought. Not that it was unusual for a thirty-six-year-old man to think about settling down, but it was unusual for him. On the other hand, nothing had been “usual” for Eric since he’d left the navy, and maybe it was time he gave serious consideration to the thought of marriage.
His brother Rowan hadn’t been given the luxury of time before he’d been pressured to find a wife. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of women had put themselves forward as bridal candidates when it became known that the prince regent was required to marry. Rowan had surprised everyone when he’d proposed to the royal nanny rather than a woman with recognizable title and ancestry.
Marcus, his younger brother, had also balked at tradition in choosing his bride, marrying a woman who was a foreigner and a successful business owner. And while there was no doubt that both of his brothers were blissfully happy with their respective wives, Eric had always thought that when the time came for him to marry, he would choose a more traditional kind of wife—someone who understood the role of a royal spouse and would be both suitable and content to fulfill it.
But somehow it was thoughts of a sweet and sexy bartender that hovered in the back of his mind and invaded his dreams. And—seven weeks after a single night together—these thoughts began to cause him serious worry. Never before had he been so preoccupied by a woman. Never before had he yearned so deeply for what he couldn’t have.
Being born a prince meant there were few things beyond his grasp, but Molly was one of them. They’d both agreed there would be nothing between them after that night. At the time, it had seemed like a perfect arrangement—one night, no strings. But even as the sun had begun to rise in the morning, Eric had regretted their bargain.
One night hadn’t been nearly enough to sate the passion that burned so hotly and fiercely between them. Not when, seven weeks later, just thinking of Molly was enough to make him ache with longing.
He wanted to go back to Texas to see her again, and his friend’s upcoming wedding gave him the perfect excuse to do so. Of course, he would have to check in with Rowan first, to ensure there were no pressing matters that required his presence in Tesoro del Mar over the next few weeks.
Having decided he should discuss the matter with his brother, he wasn’t surprised when he received a call requesting his presence in the prince regent’s office. He was surprised to see Cameron Leandres leaving as he was entering.
“Who’s going to get fired for letting our cousin through the front gates?” he asked Rowan.
“No one.”
Eric took a seat across from his brother’s desk and raised his brows.
“I invited Cameron here to discuss the environmental concerns to be addressed at the summit in Berne next month.”
“The summit I’m attending?”
“The summit you were going to attend,” Rowan corrected. “I’ve asked Cameron to take your place.”
Eric was genuinely perplexed by this turn of events. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to be too busy overseeing the expansion of DELconnex U.S.A. into Europe to give this matter the attention it deserves.”
Eric scowled. “I haven’t told Scott I’d take the job.”
“But you want to.”
“How do you even know that he offered it to me?”
“I had to call to decline, with sincere regret, the invitation to Scott and Fiona’s wedding because it coincides with the opening of the new youth center in Rio Medio that I’ve already committed to attending. And while I was talking to him, I asked him what kind of offer he’d made to you this time.”
Everyone in the family knew that his friend had been trying to entice Eric to join his company since he first launched DELconnex nearly a decade earlier.
Eric and Scott had been friends since two decades before that, when six-year-old Scott Delsey had come with his family to Tesoro del Mar when his father was appointed U.S. ambassador to the small Mediterranean nation. As ambassador, Thomas Delsey had spent a lot of time at the palace, frequently with his wife and son. Scott had become friends with all of the princes but had developed a particularly close bond with Eric, who was also six at the time. It was a bond as strong as any of blood, and that had endured even after the ambassador had finished his tenyear term and returned with his family to the United States. Eric and Scott had gone to the same college and though they’d later gone their separate ways in life, they’d always remained in touch.
“It’s a tempting offer,” Rowan said now.
“I’ve resisted temptation before,” Eric told him, even as memories of his trip to Texas taunted him with the knowledge that he’d also succumbed to temptation—and quite happily.
“Why are you thinking of resisting?” his brother asked, and it took Eric a moment to haul his mind out of Molly’s bed and back to their conversation.
“Because you need me here.”
“I need a minister of international relations, and I think Cameron is well-suited to the position.”
“There was a time when he thought he was well-suited to your position, and tried to take it from you,” Eric felt compelled to remind him.
“That was six years ago.”
“Do you really think he’s changed?”
“I think I’d rather know what he’s doing than have to guess at it.”
Which Eric thought was a valid point. But he was still uneasy about his brother’s decision to give any real authority to their cousin—or maybe he was just feeling guilty that Rowan’s plan would allow him to do what he wanted when Rowan hadn’t been given the same choice.
“I’ve neglected my duties to this family for too many years already,” he protested.
“I probably can’t count the number of diplomatic dinners and political photo ops you skipped over the past dozen years,” the prince regent admitted. “But those were more than balanced out by the fact that you were serving your country.”
Eric was uncomfortable with the admiration and pride he heard in Rowan’s voice because he knew his service hadn’t been any greater than that of any of his brothers. “Which is no more than you did by giving up your life in London when Julian died, and coming home to run the country and raise his children. And you still do the diplomatic dinners and political photo ops, and more than anyone probably even knows.”
“It hasn’t all been a hardship,” Rowan said,