His Heir, Her Honor Read Online Free PDF

steeling a breath. Nancy Wolcott had knocked Lilah into next year without even trying. Carlos, of course, hadn’t said a word about it.
    And they’d been dating for weeks, not days, not a onetime outing over coffee. But a relationship that needed a freaking press release.
    Lilah bit back bile. “I hadn’t heard.”
    â€œI wanted to keep it quiet, too. I know he has a reputation for keeping relationships light but I think this might be headed somewhere.” Nancy laughed nervously, seemingly oblivious to the fact she wasgushing. “Perhaps he kept his distance before, back when he had to maintain his royal background. But now that everything’s out in the open about his Medina name, he’s free to pursue anyone he wants.”
    Hearing the infatuation in Nancy’s voice, Lilah wanted to hate her, to dismiss her like the royalty groupies who’d come out of the woodwork lately. She longed to find fault in someone who’d captured Carlos’s interest when a night of sex with her hadn’t moved him in even a passing way.
    And yet she couldn’t be catty. Nancy didn’t know about that night with Carlos. No one did.
    Furthermore, of every unattached female on staff, this one seemed least likely to be a gold digger or fame seeker. As a part of her job, Lilah knew the history of each employee. Nancy Wolcott was a nice person who very obviously had stars in her eyes over the new man in her life. Who could blame her?
    Perhaps a woman who already had Carlos’s child swimming around in utero.
    A cold ache gelling inside her, Lilah tuned in to the rest of Nancy’s lovelorn ramblings.
    â€œI know I’m probably jumping the gun here, but he’s such a gorgeous, moody man. A woman can’t help but want to touch those inner depths.” Nancy pressed a hand to her heart, her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled.
    Lilah wanted to give the woman a good swift kick in her unrealistic expectations about Carlos Medina. Even when he’d dated in the past, she’d seen how emotionally detached the man could be, something that hadn’t changed one bit since the whole “son of a deposed monarch” revelation.
    Not that she was surprised. There was no such thingas a fairy-tale ending. Libraries labeled it fiction for a reason. She’d seen firsthand with her parents how quickly love soured, how easy it was for a woman to turn into a pathetic moony-eyed doormat.
    Her father had used his job as a Hollywood agent to seduce countless wannabe starlets. To this day his wife—Lilah’s mother—did her level best to ignore the indiscretions that messed with her perception of happily ever after with her hunky, rich dream man. On occasion, the bimbo of the month set her eyes on a ring or got angry when the contracts didn’t flow in and would confront the Mrs., forcing her to face her husband’s infidelities.
    A fight would ensue. Tears would flow. He would offer up jewelry or a romantic getaway to “reconnect” and all would be forgiven until the next time when they repeated the same dysfunctional cycle all over again—leaving Lilah with two drawers jam-packed full of tourist T-shirts brought home by her lovey-dovey parents. In fact, her parents were on one of their make-up cruises now, and once they returned she would have to tell them about the baby.
    About Carlos?
    Listening to Nancy detail her evening with Carlos at the symphony, Lilah had to accept that the woman wasn’t blowing anything out of proportion. He really had asked her out on honest-to-God dates. Not that Lilah had entertained dreams of such with him. But damn it, they had slept together. They had been friends before that. And while he wasn’t the warm fuzzy kind, she deserved better from him than the way he’d treated her since their one-night stand.
    She definitely deserved better than what she’d experienced in his office a few short minutes ago.
    Nancy