Stealing Kisses With a King (Kings of Carolina #3)- Sylvie Stewart Page 0,51
as if I were a virgin, for heaven’s sake.
He grinned. “If you kissed me to distract me, I can assure you it worked.”
Cheeky man. I needed to reassert my position. “You’re the one who kissed me.”
His lips quirked to the side. “A mere technicality. You started it and you know it. You rather took me by surprise, I must admit.”
After all his flirting and gifts, he was surprised I’d gone for a kiss? I assumed an innocent expression and decided to meet cheek with cheek. “Was this your first kiss, Your Highness?”
His chest shook with laughter, pleasing me to no end that I’d amused him and made him happy, and I tried to focus on only that, pushing doubt back and willing it to flee for good.
Chapter 14
Malcolm
“Well, old man, look at you leading a life of leisure.”
My father looked up from his paper where he sat dressed in his robe with his feet up on an ottoman “Quite a reversal of fortune, isn’t it?”
I stepped further into the room, hands in my pockets. “Well, it’s past time I settled on a profession. I thought I’d give king a try.”
“Good choice, my boy. I hear the perks are quite nice and the crown isn’t as heavy as it looks.” His mouth lifted at the corners as he gestured for me to sit in one of the plush armchairs in the ornately furnished room. While I preferred to keep my own quarters more modern, my parents fully embraced the opulence and fussiness of royal tradition.
I took my time settling in the chair while attempting a surreptitious survey of my father. He was still a young man at fifty-eight but the MS had taken its toll in subtle ways. His leg muscles had deteriorated somewhat, leaving him to use a cane while his thoughts didn’t come quite as quickly as they used to and his short-term memory sometimes failed him. But, through it all, he maintained his regal air as if he’d been born with it. Even alone in his sitting room, his chin remained high, his shoulders back, and his eyes sharp.
“So, to what do I owe this visit? Checking up on me or seeking counsel?” He folded the paper neatly and placed it on the small antique table beside him.
I coughed out a laugh. “If people don’t stop questioning my motives, I might develop a complex.”
“Is that so? Who’s been questioning you?”
“No one.” I didn’t want to discuss Alice with my father—or anyone for that matter. It was as if I’d discovered a treasure I wanted to hoard for myself. Not because I was afraid anyone would steal it, but they’d want to examine it from every angle and question it or qualify it.
I hurried on, “I just came to say hello since I haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Your mother has the physical and occupational therapists practically living with us. I’m beginning to consider adoption to make things official.”
“Oh, come on, you love the attention.”
He raised his brows at me. “You’ve obviously never had a seven-stone woman push your legs in directions they were never meant to go.”
“Sounds kinky.”
He shook his head but couldn’t hide the quirk of his lips. “I’d almost forgotten to whom I was speaking.” Lifting a teacup from the table, he watched me before taking a distracted sip. “How are things progressing?”
I nodded and tapped on the chair’s wooden arm. “It’s complete chaos, so it’s going fine.”
“And you?” he pressed, not allowing me to get away with being flip.
“What about me?”
He tilted his head and frowned at me, so I gave in a little and rested my hands flat on the chair arms.
“I’m fine, really. No need to worry about me.”
After digesting my answer, he chuckled for some reason.
“What’s so funny?” I frowned at him.
“Sometimes I forget you children aren’t parents yet.”
I made the sign of the cross, making him laugh again before he replaced his cup on the table and nodded.
“A parent never ceases to worry about his children. Parenting is fraught with challenges.” He gestured with his hands, as if they’d aid in his explanation. “There is much to navigate: priorities, emotion, ingenuity, patience, strength of character, attention to detail, a grasp of the wider picture. It’s everything at once with no guarantee that you’ll do it right, but a certainty that you are one hundred percent responsible for the outcome.”
“Sounds fun.” My tone achieved the desired dryness.
“Sounds like being a king.” He raised a brow at me.