скачать книгу бесплатно
“It’s not quite the same thing,” she said. “But I’ll make do. If I burn it enough and put it on top of peanut butter, it won’t matter that much.”
“Peanut butter?” he echoed, impressed by her determination.
She nodded and turned back to her frying pan. “My brother-in-law from Texas turned me onto this when I was pregnant. It has turned into one of my favorite stress foods.”
She flipped the pancetta onto a paper towel while she slathered a slice of bread with a peanut butter.
“Hey,” Treat said. “Do you have any extra bacon?”
“Pancetta,” she corrected.
“It smells great,” he said.
She chuckled. “Here you go.”
“I think I want to try it with peanut butter,” he said.
She slid him a sideways glance. “I don’t have a lot of extra peanut butter,” she said. “My sister from Texas sends it to me.”
“Okay,” Treat said. “I’ll just take the bacon.”
She gave a heavy sigh and pulled out two more slices of bread. Slapping some peanut butter on a slice, she followed with a helping of crispy pancetta and squished the sandwich together. She handed it to him on a plate. “Eat at your own risk.”
“I’ll brave it,” he said, then took a big bite and savored the flavors. He took another bite to assess. “It’s delicious. The pancetta’s a little strong, but it’s still delicious.”
“Agreed,” Ericka said. “I’m trying to figure out how to get American bacon, although I know I’ve just offended every Italian I’ve ever met.”
“The pancetta’s not bad,” he said, taking another big bite of the sandwich.
“No, but I want cheap bacon,” she said, and took a bite of her own sandwich.
“If anyone should be able to get it, you should,” he said. “You’re a princess.”
“We have importation rules,” she said, and continued to eat her sandwich. “I wonder if I talked to Stefan. Or if I kept my mouth shut and asked Tina to send me American bacon...”
“What a scandal that could be,” he said. “Princess Fredericka imports forbidden bacon.”
She slid a quelling glance at him, then chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. I could be importing so much worse.”
He swallowed the rest of his sandwich and nodded. He brushed off his hands. “So right. Time for bed?”
She met his gaze and choked on her sandwich.
Treat smacked her on her back. He wondered if he should perform the Heimlich.
Ericka coughed then stepped away from him. “I’m fine,” she insisted, coughing.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, still coughing.
He poured a glass of water and offered it to her.
Ericka sipped it then took a shallow breath. “I think you’re right. It’s time to go to bed.”
Treat nodded. “Let me know if you need me for anything.”
“I’m fine, Mr. Walker,” she said.
“Call me Treat,” he said.
“Treat?” she echoed and shook her head. “What an interesting name.”
“Montreat,” he said. “The name was shortened.”
“Oh,” she said, and then nodded.
“Kinda like Fredericka was shortened to Ericka.”
“Interesting,” she said. “Mr. Walker. Good night.”
“Good night, Princess Fredericka,” he said.
“I need to clean up,” she said.
“I can do that,” he said. “Go on up to bed. You need your sleep.”
She paused a moment. “If you insist, Mr. Walker.”
“Treat,” he corrected.
She paused a long moment. “Treat,” she finally said in a soft voice. The sound of his name from her lips did something to him. He would have to figure that out later.
“Night,” he said as he watched her leave the room. Treat cleaned the pan and dishes then prowled the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, he heard the sound of Leo crying. He knew Ericka would get up and cradle her baby. He also knew she needed rest.
Treat climbed the stairs. He nearly bumped into Ericka.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“I’m checking on your baby,” he said.
“I can take care of that,” she told him.
“But maybe you shouldn’t,” he said. “Even Saint Ericka needs a rest.”
She scowled at him. “I’ve never said I’m a saint.”
“Then stop trying to look like one,” he said. “Go back to bed.”
“Who will hold Leo?” she asked.
“I will,” he said.
“You?” she asked. “You look like you would be better with a football.”
“Football, baby, they’re close to the same.”
“A baby is close to a football?” she said, clearly alarmed.
“I’m joking,” he said. “I’ve rocked a baby before. Trust me.”
“Why should I?” she asked.
“Your brother did,” he said. “He vetted me six times from Sunday.”
Ericka sighed, clearly so weary she could hardly stand. “Just for a few minutes,” she said. “Just a few minutes. Then wake me up. I can handle this.” She turned toward her room and Treat felt a crazy quiet sense of victory as he entered the nursery and picked up the baby.
Chapter Three (#ulink_9157fd82-89a6-5f6e-be0c-455f8d66fbf2)
Ericka awakened in the night and listened for sounds from the baby monitor. Nothing. She stared up at the ceiling then closed her eyes and told herself she should go back to sleep. Leo wasn’t crying. All was well.
Except the football player was looking after her baby. Rising and pushing her covers aside, she shook her head at herself. She must have been out of her mind to put Leo in his care. Rushing to the nursery, she carefully pushed the door open and saw Treat moving the beam of a flashlight against the ceiling. He saw her and lifted his fingers to his lips to urge her to remain quiet.
Ericka looked at Leo whose sleepy gaze followed the light. His eyelids drooped then opened then finally closed. She tilted her head and looked at Treat in silence. He placed the flashlight on the small dresser then stood and ushered her out of the room, gently closing the door behind them.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“I told you he might like more light,” he said.
“That’s why I put a nightlight in there,” she said.
“I think he likes something more active. It’s a challenge to track a moving light. He’s a smart little guy,” he said.
Ericka took in Treat’s last words and it was all she could do not to burst into tears. Although she believed Leo was smart, she hadn’t heard anyone else say those exact words. He’d been called beautiful and alert, but no one had called him smart. Ericka bit her lip, determined to pull her emotions in check. “Yes, he is smart,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Thank you for looking after him. It’s not really your job.”
“I don’t require a lot of sleep,” he said.
“I envy you that,” she muttered. Suddenly she realized how close he stood to her. She could smell the faint scent of soap and shampoo. He was so tall, she thought, and told herself she found that fact off-putting. She looked into his eyes and her stomach took a strange dip. What was that? She took a quick short breath and looked away. “You can go to bed. Nanny and I should be able to handle it now. Thank you again.”
“No problem,” he said, and walked past her down the hallway to the front door. He slept in the small guest suite. Attached to the cottage, the suite had its own door. For a moment, she wondered what he did all day in that suite when he wasn’t figuring out new ways to protect her and Leo. It occurred to her that all that solitary confinement would make her batty. Sure, she enjoyed quiet moments enjoying art. She especially missed those moments lately, but Ericka needed human connection. She wondered if Treat did.
Suddenly realizing she’d been thinking about him for at least three full moments, she shook her head and reminded herself that she didn’t care if Treat needed human connection or not. She just wanted him to stay out of the way so she could do what she needed to do.
* * *
Treat returned to the guest suite but felt like a caged animal. He felt he shouldn’t leave the property to go for a run, so he decided to take a swim. Maybe that would relax him. He slid into the pool and the water felt warm against his skin, probably because the night air was cool. Automatically swimming several laps, he waited for the exercise and the monotony of motion to ease his mind.
Being around the princess’s baby brought back memories of his disabled brother, Jerry. Jerry had been born with multiple deformities, both mental and physical, but he’d had a good soul. Treat had seen it in his young brother’s eyes and smile.
Treat had noticed that Leo didn’t smile as frequently. Leo looked as if he were trying to figure everything out. The baby appeared to want every bit of information he could get and he wanted it immediately. A demanding baby, he thought, and not just because of his hearing loss.
His brother, Jerry, had been demanding due to his health issues which had been enormous. After Treat’s father died when he was a teenager, Treat had watched his mother struggle to pay medical bills. He had cared for Jerry whenever he could, but his mother had pushed him to take a football scholarship. It had always been Treat’s dream to make a lot of money so that he could take care of both his mother and Jerry.
But Jerry had died during Treat’s junior year in college and he’d lost his mother just one year later. She hadn’t even seen Treat graduate. Treat had felt like a rudderless boat after that.
Even though he knew the princess’s situation was far different than his mother’s, he caught glimpses of the same emotions he’d seen in his mother’s eyes. Fear, worry, weariness. He also saw a helluva lot of determination. Ericka would make sure Leo received every bit of education and attention he needed. She could have taken an easier way out, but he could tell she would be actively involved in every decision in that baby’s life. Leo was damn lucky, not just because his mother was a princess, but because she was so devoted.
Treat swam a few more laps. The vision of the princess and Leo stomped through his mind. Swimming hadn’t extricated them from his consciousness, but maybe the exercise would help him sleep. Her Highness was making a bigger impact on him than he’d expected.
* * *
Ericka rose early and conducted two tele-conferences. She much preferred regular phone calls because for those, she didn’t need to apply make-up or fix her hair. During another call later in the morning, she received the disturbing news that young royals from Sergenia were in danger and needed to leave their small country due to unrest.
Ericka turned off her phone and did a session with Leo. She showed him several works of art and signed the best she could. “Here is da Vinci’s Mona Lisa,” she said, lifting her computer tablet. “He was a brilliant artist. As was Raphael.” She pulled up a photo of one of Raphael’s paintings. “I can’t wait to show you Michelangelo’s sculpture of David,” she told her son. “It’s beyond amazing. There’s nothing like it,” she said, and waved the hand toward her face making the sign for amazing.
“I must have been way behind,” Treat said from the doorway. “I didn’t know anything about da Vinci until I was in my teens. Unless you count the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
“Who are they?” she asked, feeling a strange rush of pleasure when she saw him.
“Cartoon turtle characters named after some of the great artists of the Renaissance,” he said. “Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello and Leonardo.”
“How clever,” she said.
He chuckled. “You learned about the real artists. I learned about the cartoon characters.”
Ericka frowned in sympathy. “How unfortunate,” she said.
He chuckled again. “No worries. I received a little more education later on and saw pictures of the Renaissance artists. I’m okay. Just not as cultured as you are.”
Ericka met his gaze and felt her stomach jump. “You can learn.”
“I do my best. Are you ready to go out for your luncheon with your sisters?”
“Yes” she said, standing as she remembered. “Nanny will take care of Leo.”
“I’m sure he’s exhausted from his morning lecture,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you saying I’m boring him?”
Treat lifted his hands. “Not me.”
“I need to freshen up,” she said. “I’ll be back in a moment. Nanny Marley,” she called and walked down the hall.
Treat walked over to look at Leo. “How ya doing big guy? Wanna talk football?”
Leo kicked and stared at him, making grunting sounds.
“Just so you know, Bonnie Sloan was one of the first deaf NFL football players. You can do anything you want,” Treat said. “When you get a little older, maybe we can toss the pigskin.”
