Delta's Baby Surprise (Special Forces Elite 1)

I shrugged. Maybe I should let Damon mention my high heel mishap. I didn’t want to upset her. After all, she was the one who chose my accessories.

“I didn’t expect it to be so warm.” I fanned myself.

“Don’t worry. You have several dress options for dinner. You have plenty of time to shower and prepare for the next event.”

“Oh good.” I took a long sip. “What next event?” I thought this was the only scheduled appearance we had. Damon was intent to gather as much information on the groves as possible to present to the cabinet.

She smiled. “I can’t go into details.”

“Why not?” She was supposed to be my manager. If there were details, I needed to know. I needed mental preparation if it involved socializing with the village’s elite.

“I’ll let His Majesty explain.” She froze when the car door opened and Damon slipped in.

“Your Highness.” She nodded and turned to look through the windshield.

He kicked the dust from his shoes. “I think that went well. What about you?”

“Did you get the information you needed?” I asked.

“And then some.” He pulled my hand into his lap. “Thank you. I have what I need to convince the cabinet.”

I grinned. “I’m glad. They all seemed happy you made the trip.”

The SUV lurched forward, the tires crunching over dirt and gravel.

“What’s next?” I asked.

He looked at me sideways. I caught a glimmer of playfulness.

“You’ll see.”

Twenty-Three

Damon

Decorum. Rules.

I hated the bullshit that came along with being the head of the royal family. Ayla pointed Molly to a room across the hall from mine.

We couldn’t stay in the same suite when we traveled. The country would lose its fucking mind if the citizens thought their unmarried king slept in the same bed as a woman.

“I’ll have her ready by five,” Ayla assured me, guiding her out of my reach.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. It was absurd. Molly should be with me in my suite. At my side. In my bed.

“She doesn’t know about the surprise,” she whispered.

“Thank you.” I walked into my rooms, closing the door with an irritated thud. I walked to the bar and poured a drink.

There wasn’t anything that could quench my thirst for her. The bottle wasn’t deep enough.

I sat on the couch and grabbed the remote. I rarely watched TV unless it was football, but I turned on the flat screen.

“Fuck.”

The headline flashed across the screen.

American caught by His Royal Highness