The Prince's Housekeeper Bride Read Free

on her cheeks, his naked skin that had forced her eyes closed, that trill, low, low in her stomach as he had stood so close. Shameful, wanton, unfamiliar thoughts stirred in her troubled mind as she pictured him lying in that bed.
    Don’t be daft, Alisa scolded. She had no right to even entertain such thoughts. He was a royal prince. He could have— did have—any woman he wanted.
    With a sigh she picked up the basket, frowning at its heavy weight, and headed back to her own spartan room, but as she lifted a shirt her eyes widened in shocked wonder at the contents beneath—every perfume, every cream, every piece of makeup her greedy eyes had devoured was there…was now hers.
    â€œSee that you properly take care of it.”
    Benito’s husky words rang in her ears as Alisa set about her tasks, as she dragged herself through the day and anticipated tonight.
    Anticipated his face when he came home, wondering, wanting to see just a glimmer of masculine approval in those decadent eyes when he saw the change in her.

Chapter Three
    The single light in her room was impossible to study by—the words in her book blurred and, her head drooping with exhaustion for the hundredth time, Alisa was tempted to close it.
    Then what?
    She had to stay awake. Had to greet the prince if he appeared and hope to God he didn’t notice Alberto wasn’t here.
    Since their first encounter Alisa had hardly seen the prince. Her newly rouged lips and kohl-rimmed eyes barely merited a glance during one of his rare appearances.
    She’d sit in the hallway, Alisa decided. The light was so much better there, and if she did fall asleep, if he did choose to come home, then she’d be awoken by the sound of the car….
    â€œYour Highness!” Blinking, smiling a little too brightly in the hopes he wouldn’t hear the fog of her voice, Alisa jumped to attention as Benito pushed the front door open.
    â€œWhere’s Alberto?” He frowned, clearly less than impressed at having to let himself in. “And I already told you—I prefer Benito.”
    â€œCan I get you anything…Benito,” Alisa stumbled. “A light supper?”
    â€œYou can answer my question. Where is Alberto?”
    â€œAt home.” Cringing, she was desperate to look at the floor rather than him, but for Alberto’s sake she tried to hold Benito’s haughty glare. “I know it is irregular, but his wife was taken very ill this afternoon. He will be back first thing in the morning.”
    â€œIf his wife is suddenly sick, then of course he should take some time off.” Benito waved, striding toward the lounge as Alisa nervously followed.
    â€œShe has been sick for a while—today she got worse…” Her words were tumbling out, the book she should have hidden, in her hand as she pleaded for the sake of her colleague. “She only has a week or two to live. I hope you can understand—”
    â€œYou think I am that much of an ogre?” He swung around. “You think because I am royal I have no feelings?”
    â€œOf course not.”
    â€œAlberto can return to work when he is ready. If it causes problems with the palace I will even tell them that. Until he returns, I do not need a butler!”
    â€œNo” The forbidden word to royalty came out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her heart jumped to her throat as his eyes formed two dark slits, the air thick with tension as she fought to retract her comment, yet willed herself to continue.
    â€œThat would not help Alberto. I know you mean well, Your Highness, I mean, Benito, but you fail to understand—”
    â€œI. Fail. To. Understand?” Each word was like a pistol shot, her words clearly enraging him further. “I come home to no butler, my housekeeper half-asleep with her head in a novel—” he grabbed at her book and waved it in the air “—and instead of firing you both I come up with