How to Catch a Prince. Leanne Banks

Читать онлайн.
Название How to Catch a Prince
Автор произведения Leanne Banks
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472004796



Скачать книгу

to the beach on her own.”

      “It’s wonderful that you’re naming the baby after Nic’s mother,” Sophie said. “That’s so—loving.”

      Pippa lifted her cup and nodded. “I wish you had met Amelie. She was a wonderful combination of boldness, wisdom and fun. In the short time I knew her, I learned a lot. The biggest lesson was don’t waste your life. Go for it. Life is short and love is the most important gift of all. If you love someone, then you’ve got to give the chance to be with them all you’ve got.”

      Sophie took a sip of coffee and tried not to squirm. Did she really love Max? Or did she just have an intense crush on him? Setting her cup down, she stared into the warm brown liquid, wishing it could offer her answers. If she gave in to her feelings, would she have the nerve to go after him? What if she made a fool of herself? What if he completely rejected her?

      Her stomach twisted and clenched.

      “Are you okay?” Pippa asked, concern etched across her face. “You look a bit ill.”

      “No. I’m fine. Just need more coffee,” Sophie said.

      “Well, I’m certain you could use more than coffee. I can tell you’re probably one of those types who wouldn’t complain even if you had a broken leg, but your body has been through a traumatic experience. Getting hit by that motor scooter,” Pippa said, shaking her head. “I think I’d want to hide under the covers for a few days to catch my breath. It’s a miracle you weren’t hurt worse. You could have been—” She broke off as if she realized she should be more encouraging. “But you weren’t. You’re fine and you’re just going to get better and better.”

      Sophie nodded in agreement, but her brain was stuck on what Pippa hadn’t said. She could have been killed. Her brain instantly went into denial. Killed? That was a little overdramatic, wasn’t it? Her injuries could have been much more serious, but to think that she could have died … Frowning, Sophie firmly shoved the possibility to the back of her mind. A dark place she did her best not to visit.

      “Oh, my,” Pippa said, putting her hand on her belly and smiling. “Amelie has hiccups.” She laughed. “Would you like to feel it?”

      Sophie had wondered what it would feel like to have a baby inside her. To feel it move. “Sure,” she said and stood next to Pippa, who guided Sophie’s hand to her belly.

      Sophie felt the rhythmic bump inside Pippa. “Oh, poor thing,” she said.

      “She actually gets them pretty often. It makes me wonder if I’m eating something that bothers her. Sorry, Amelie,” she said and rubbed her belly.

      At that moment, a strange awareness sliced through Sophie. She’d avoided the very idea of having a baby. She’d avoided the very idea of being loved by Max, although she’d secretly wished for it.

      She felt Pippa’s gaze on her and tried to shake off her thoughts.

      “Are you okay?” Pippa asked, reaching toward her.

      “Fine,” Sophie said. “Just a little dazed.”

      “From the accident?” Pippa asked. “Perhaps you should spend another night here at the palace.”

      Sophie shook her head. “I’m just a little behind on my coffee. I’ll be ready for anything in a few minutes.”

      “If you say so,” Pippa said doubtfully.

      “I do,” Sophie said and patted Pippa’s hand. “And thank you for being so caring.”

      Pippa insisted that Sophie stay at the palace through the early afternoon. Sophie left as soon as she could, arriving at her apartment and pacing. Could she have died? Was she being overdramatic?

      She shook her head from side to side. Truth was that not everyone survived being smacked by a scooter. She could have been paralyzed or worse.

      Sophie thought of herself as being stronger than that, though. She was strong enough to overcome this. A little brush with a scooter couldn’t knock her out forever. She’d survived challenges in every country she’d visited. She was a mule.

      Max had even referred to her in that manner, and she hadn’t been insulted or disagreed. She was strong, resilient. She could make it through anything. Right? She put her doubts from her mind and watched a television show.

      Dinnertime arrived and her cell phone rang. It was Max.

      “How are you feeling?”

      “Much better. I left the palace a couple hours ago.”

      “What can I bring you for dinner?”

      Surprised by his offer, she automatically refused. “You don’t need to bring anything. I can pull a box of something from the freezer.”

      “I think you could use something better than that. I’ll be over in an hour or so,” he said and hung up.

      “But—” she said and sighed. The truth was she wasn’t hungry. She hadn’t been hungry since the accident. If she told Max that, though, he would think she had been terminally injured.

      Sophie puttered around her apartment for awhile then sat down on the couch. She leaned her head back for just a few minutes.…

      The doorbell jolted her from her sleep. Her heart hammered against her chest and she jumped to her feet. Taking a quick breath, she rushed to the door and opened it.

      Max stood in front of her holding two bags, two bottles of beer and a bottle of wine. She blinked. “Wow. What’s all this?”

      “Steak, baked potato, salad. Took forever for me to find this in take-out,” he said. “And I’m betting the steak is nowhere as good as we got in Australia.”

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAgEASABIAAD/4RJdRXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgABwESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEaAAUA AAABAAAAYgEbAAUAAAABAAAAagEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAUAAAAcgEyAAIAAAAUAAAAhodp AAQAAAABAAAAnAAAAMgAAABIAAAAAQAAAEgAAAABQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIDcuMAAyMDEzOjAz OjA2IDEwOjExOjIxAAAAAAOgAQADAAAAAf//AACgAgAEAAAAAQAABXigAwAEAAAAAQAACMkAAAAA AAAABgEDAAMAAAABAAYAAAEaAAUAAAABAAABFgEbAAUAAAABAAABHgEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAIBAAQA AAABAAABJgICAAQAAAABAAARLwAAAAAAAABIAAAAAQAAAEgAAAAB/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAgEASABI AAD/7QAMQWRvYmVfQ00AAv/uAA5BZG9iZQBkgAAAAAH/2wCEAAwICAgJCAwJCQwRCwoLERUPDAwP FRgTExUTExgRDAwMDAwMEQwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwBDQsLDQ4NEA4OEBQO Dg4UFA4ODg4UEQwMDAwMEREMDAwMDAwRDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDP/AABEI AIAAUAMBIgACEQEDEQH/3QAEAAX/xAE/AAABBQEBAQEBAQAAAAAAAAADAAECBAUGBwgJCgsBAAEF AQEBAQEBAAAAAAAAAAEAAgMEBQYHCAkKCxAAAQQBAwIEAgUHBggFAwwzAQACEQMEIRIxBUFRYRMi cYEyBhSRobFCIyQVUsFiMzRygtFDByWSU/Dh8WNzNRaisoMmRJNUZEXCo3Q2F9JV4mXys4TD03Xj 80YnlKSFtJXE1OT0pbXF1eX1VmZ2hpamtsbW5vY3R1dnd4eXp7fH1+f3EQACAgECBAQDBAUGBwcG BTUBAAIRAyExEgRBUWFxIhMFMoGRFKGxQiPBUtHwMyRi4XKCkkNTFWNzNPElBhaisoMHJjXC0kST VKMXZEVVNnRl4vKzhMPTdePzRpSkhbSVxNTk9KW1xdXl9VZmdoaWprbG1ub2JzdHV2d3h5ent8f/ 2gAMAwEAAhEDEQA/AMD6t/VX9sC+2zIGPiUktc9utjnNDXkbttlbGMa/3uUOs9G/ZfUHUMv+1UPq ZZTfpqHO+gR7foOr/wAG39xd1hdOxcLpuJhZFYx3OrN3pUOez1LK2uc9jH1llt123bdZTu/Sf8VU q31p6W3O6fTllh+1NDGMr1l