Love is in the Heir Read online

  Table of Contents

  What people are saying about Jenny Gardiner's books:

  Love Is in the Heir

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Thank you for reading!

  About Jenny

  SHAME OF THRONES | Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Shame of Thrones

  What people are saying about Jenny Gardiner's books:

  "A fun, sassy read! A cross between Erma Bombeck and Candace Bushnell, reading Jenny Gardiner is like sinking your teeth into a chocolate cupcake...you just want more."

  —Meg Cabot, NY Times bestselling author of Princess Diaries, Queen of Babble and more, on Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

  "With a strong yet delightfully vulnerable voice, food critic Abbie Jennings embarks on a soulful journey where her love for banana cream pie and disdain for ill-fitting Spanx clash in hilarious and heartbreaking ways. As her body balloons and her personal life crumbles, Abbie must face the pain and secret fears she's held inside for far too long. I cheered for her the entire way."

  —Beth Hoffman, NY Times bestselling author of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt on Slim to None

  "Jenny Gardiner has done it again—this fun, fast-paced book is a great summer read."

  —Sarah Pekkanen, NY Times bestselling author of The Opposite of Me, on Slim to None

  "As Sweet as a song and sharp as a beak, Bite Me really soars as a memoir about family—children and husbands, feathers and fur—and our capacity to keep loving though life may occasionally bite."

  —Wade Rouse, bestselling author of At Least in the City Someone Would Hear Me Scream

  Love Is in the Heir

  (book four of the Royals of Monaforte series)

  by Jenny Gardiner

  Copyright © 2015 by Jenny Gardiner

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  http://jennygardiner.net/

  Chapter One

  PIPPA Grimaldi, a decidedly modern Monafortian duchess and all-around life of the party, didn’t normally ogle men. It just wasn’t her style. And she’d certainly never held up any man in the royal family as anything but friend material. That is until she ran into His Royal Highness Prince Christopher, Duke of Esmeralda—Topher, for short—for the first time in many years.

  Pippa and Topher, third in line to the throne of Monaforte, had a history together, and not such a great one. Back when she was fourteen, Pippa, best friends with Topher’s brother Zander and a regular at the palace, had wandered in on Topher with his pants down, in mid, uh, self-service mode.

  Mortified, Pippa had burst into nervous laughter, then hightailed it out of Topher’s room to Zander’s so fast that her friend immediately noticed something was wrong. And once Zander—long the bad boy prince in the family—latched on to what she’d encountered, he never let it go. Poor Topher was dubbed “the Wanker” by his older brother and teased mercilessly by his siblings for years.

  Over the years, it had been obvious that Topher took great pains to avoid Pippa’s presence, because aside from his continued embarrassment over the Episode, whenever the two of them were together, invariably the whole thing was dredged up yet again, much to his deep chagrin.

  And so when Topher encountered Pippa at the reception following the royal wedding of his brother Adrian, he could only hope that royal decorum would trump his siblings’ propensity for jocularity. The last thing he needed while suited up in his regal princely military garb for this shindig was to be reduced to that shamed teenager of years earlier, with a round of guffaws and elbows to the side while the siblings all referenced Topher’s manual dexterity. Sometimes even his usually sweet sister, Isabella, got in on the act. And it would only make matters worse if his new sister-in-law, Emma, joined the fray.

  He really just hoped that after he’d been gone for so long, maybe at last the event had been tucked away in the cobwebbed attic of family lore, finally forgotten, laid to merciful rest. It always amazed him that no matter how old you got or how accomplished you became, you were always brought to your knees by some stupid happening in your life you wished you’d never committed. Or at least wished you’d locked the door for.

  Of course one thing he always, always, always held close to him about that day was this: the only reason he was in the midst of the deed at that particular moment was that Pippa had showed up at the palace in a particularly skimpy skirt and tight tee that highlighted her burgeoning assets. And what gangly, awkward teenage boy could resist that? As the two-years-younger brother, Topher had always had a little bit of a crush on his brother’s friend, but he’d also had never confided that to a soul. And so in deference to her dignity, he realized all the more that that fact needed to remain tucked away in his mind only as it would merely serve to humiliate Pippa.

  But from then on, he forever associated Pippa with his shame from that event, and rarely did he ever dare to entertain thoughts of Pippa as anything but a family friend.

  ~*~

  Topher, his gentle gray eyes and wavy dark hair highlighted by the bright blue royal military uniform he wore, had just finished his drink at the wedding reception when his brother Zander pulled him into a conversation unwittingly.

  “Plus,” Zander said to his beautiful blond, blue-eyed girlfriend Andi, extending his arm as his younger brother came toward them. “Soon this strapping young man will find himself a woman and the paps will latch on to him instead. Even though I am the much-better-looking brother.”

  Andi had seemingly pulled off the impossible, taming the womanizing Zander, known for his scampish good looks with his scruffy dark hair, perpetual five-o’clock shadow, and mesmerizing green eyes.

  Apparently Andi was fearful of the paparazzi, which had caused her to flee her blossoming romance with Zander, and Zander had only somehow lured her back to Monaforte just in time for the wedding.

  Topher looked at him with wide eyes like he was crazy. “Yeah, right. Besides, don’t hold your breath on that,” he said. “The chances of my marrying anytime in the next millennium are slim to none.”

  “That’s what I said, and look at me now,” Adrian said as he walked up to the group. The oldest of the siblings, Adrian was devastatingly handsome, and on this, his wedding day, his brilliant sapphire eyes were alight with happiness. “Zander, looks like finally your invisible girlfriend here took pity on you?” He nodded toward Andi, who blushed.

  Topher was
thrilled the conversation was focusing on Zander’s romance, but only then did he notice that Pippa was lurking on the fringe of the conversation. Pippa—looking so damned hot in the halter gown Topher tried desperately not to stare at because it highlighted her breasts and her shapely waist—was the last thing he needed to think of right then. Those thoughts could get him into a lot of trouble. Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle against the warm melon color of her flowing gown.

  Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty-six, he repeated in his head, tamping down all potentially damning sexual thoughts involving the woman, including the time he’d seen her naked when she came out of the shower of the palace pool house when she was seventeen. Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty-six.

  Topher could feel the front of his dress blues getting just a little bit snug, and he continued distracting himself with simple mathematical equations until he could extricate himself from the present company. He glanced out of the corner of his gray eyes to see that Pippa’s cascading brown curls—which as a teenager had looked so sexy on her, tumbling over her shoulders like a riotous waterfall—had been pulled up in a loose chignon, her hair topped with the obligatory tiara that most women of royalty wore to such events. Hers was interlaced with tiny flowers, and soft strands of curls framed her face, which had grown only more beautiful with age. He thought she looked like quite the princess herself, even if she was actually a duchess. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but in the pecking order of royalty, she wasn’t a princess. Even if she looked like the fairy tale version of one.

  “Don’t worry, Andi,” Pippa said, piping into the conversation. “We all take care of each other here. You won’t be bombarded by anyone trying to get at you. Just a little here and there. Otherwise we cut ’em off at the knees.” She jokingly made a slicing motion across the throat.

  Topher knew only too well how everyone took care of each other around here, even when it involved totally dicking on your brothers. Slicing across the throat indeed. It might have been easier for him if they had just slit his throat. Lost in thought, he rejoined the conversation as Pippa continued talking.

  “I must say, most intriguing of all is little Topher here,” Pippa said, turning to him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a scrawny kid. You’re looking awfully filled out.” She eyed him up and down with a look of hunger on her face.

  “Down, girl,” Zander said, tapping on Pippa’s head. “I think Topher is allergic to women.”

  His brother discreetly flipped him the finger.

  Awfully filled out?

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was perhaps a baby wildebeest and Pippa a very hungry leopard about to pounce.

  Topher said a mental prayer that this was not the segue he’d been dreading and breathed a sigh of relief when, not a half a minute later, he was saved by the arrival of Adrian’s new bride, Emma, ravishingly beautiful with her chestnut curls loosely pinned up and tucked behind a dazzling tiara. Her hazel eyes were wet with tears of happiness. Thank goodness for all this wedding nonsense as a distraction.

  This time he was spared.

  ~*~

  Pippa tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand. Something to do with Adrian and Emma’s wedding and then something more about Emma’s good friend Caroline and Adrian’s best friend Darcy showing up to the wedding engaged, of all things. Which apparently had happened after Darcy’s sister Clementine orchestrated a fabulous fake out at a party at Pippa’s family estate, which had left Darcy thinking Zander was hitting on Caroline. At that very party, Zander then ended up hooking up with Andi, with whom Pippa had worked at a refugee camp in Africa months earlier.

  Pippa couldn’t help but wonder why everyone around her seemed to be finding soul mates while she only seemed to find another excuse to host a party or play cupid with her friends’ relationships. Not that she was looking or anything; she was too busy to really worry about dealing with a boyfriend. But sometimes it seemed like it would be nice to have someone to maybe just go on a date with. Or make out with. Or more. She hadn’t scratched that itch in as long as she could remember. The opportunity hadn’t presented itself when Pippa was working overseas in various philanthropic capacities, which she did as manager of Zander’s Prince’s Trust foundation.

  Her thoughts migrated to Topher, standing several feet from her—though she knew if he’d had his way, there’d be several hundred feet separating the two of them. It had always been that way. Well, not quite always. But certainly since the Episode. Honestly, Pippa could still close her eyes and conjure up the image of Topher in that compromising position. It had always left her feeling conflicted—embarrassed, no doubt, but kind of hot and bothered too.

  She’d never seen such a thing before, and it was the first time she’d ever seen one of those things live and in action. God, she still felt like a rookie in the sex department. She’d had a handful of less-than-compelling relationships in college and since but nothing that aroused much, well, arousal. Most of the guys she’d dated were kind of boring, often trying to rub shoulders with royalty and rarely interested in Pippa as a person.

  She tried to discreetly check out Topher from the corner of her eye. He looked so damned handsome garbed in full military regalia: the crisp blue uniform, the sheathed sword, the sash, and all the medals. For the first time in forever, she felt her heart almost skip a beat over a guy. But could it be a worse guy? Thanks to Pippa, Topher was pegged with that embarrassing nickname by his brothers and couldn’t get past something that undoubtedly the whole lot of them did daily under that palace roof. Poor Topher had had the grave misfortune of being caught red-handed. Literally.

  She burst out laughing at her own mental joke, so loudly that everyone in the conversation turned to look at her. She tried to cover up her laughter by pretending to be choking on a sip of champagne. But her eyes met Topher’s, and in that brief exchange, they both knew they were each revisiting that moment yet again.

  Pippa felt horrible; the poor guy could never live down such an isolated instance of being caught in the act. No thanks to her.

  Chapter Two

  TOPHER spent dinner engaged in conversation with some princess from Sweden or Denmark or another very blond country. She was absolutely stunning: deep blue eyes, natural blond hair (he assumed), perfect skin, knockout figure. Who could complain? In the days of his ancestors, no doubt he’d have been seated by the woman someone else had deigned it necessary for him to marry to forge a union with another country. Which made him quite happy this was not the culture nowadays. Because while this blond princess was incredibly hot, she was a bit boring. And her breath smelled. Besides, the last thing he wanted was a) to get married, and b) to be told he had to get married.

  He was perfectly happy pursuing an advanced degree in marine biology and traveling to tropical climates to further his education. What he didn’t need was an anchor in the form of a woman to tie him down. Nope, the type of anchor he preferred got lowered by a chain into sand at the bottom of the ocean when whatever boat he was sailing in was stopping for the night.

  Nothing thrilled him more than being on the water, maybe kicking back with a steak fired up on the tiny grill on the back of the boat, a cold beer in his hand, and Bob Marley blasting on the speakers as the horizon swallowed the last of the day’s sun in a spectacular show of color.

  It’s not that he didn’t get into the whole dog-and-pony show of royalty. It’s just that as third in line to the crown, he didn’t have to bow to it quite so often, and he really did enjoy his freedom.

  After dinner, the orchestra resumed playing, and he made a point to avoid his dinner companion before having to take things to the dance floor with her halitosis. But soon everyone was coupled up, and while he stood discreetly to the side, trying to not be seen and making small talk with people he really couldn’t have cared less to talk to, he noticed Pippa st
ood not far away, perhaps also avoiding being seen. But she had a little bit of a sad look in her eyes, and it made his heart ache just a touch. Enough so he decided to approach her.

  “You’re looking somber for such a happy occasion,” he said, handing her a flute of champagne he’d grabbed from a passing waiter.

  Pippa shook her head. “Really?” she said. “I didn’t mean to look so disconnected. I guess I’m just lost in thought.”

  Topher shook his head. “Please, don’t tell me it’s that thought.” He decided it was high time to just make light of the damned thing, at least face-to-face with her.

  She blushed and stammered her reply. “Oh, God, no! I mean, what thought?”

  He lowered his head and arched his brow. “I think it goes without saying which thought.”

  “You mean that? Heavens no! I thought about that hours ago.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I mean no! I haven’t been thinking about that! I haven’t thought about that in ages. Actually, I’ve never thought about that.” Pippa placed her hand over her eyes, mortified at her stupid remarks.

  Topher repeated his dubious look. “I’m pretty sure if I thought about it when we first ran into each other, then you did.”

  Pippa cringed. “Oh Toph. It was so long ago. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to resurrect that dead issue.”

  He laughed. “Not to worry. It never died, so you can’t be accused of bringing it back to life. Like it or not, it’s part of me now.”

  Pippa snorted. “Were it not for me, it wouldn’t have remained in you long enough to be an issue.”

  She burst out laughing.

  Topher smiled. “Yep, talk about wank-us interruptus.” They both laughed. “I think it’s time we let bygones be bygones with this one. What do you say?”

  She nodded and looked down, blushing, which surprised Topher because he’d never known her to be one to wither at the first sign of awkward conversation. Of course, if any topic would make her cringe, this one certainly would be it.

  “Yeah, sure.”