The Prince I Love to Hate: A Steamy Romantic Comedy (The Heir Affair Book 1) by Iris Morland (learn to read books TXT) 📗

“We have no way to know if his widow still lives there,” I said, “but at least it’s a place to start.”

The address itself was still within Paris, although about ten miles from where we were sitting. As Olivier and I looked at the building’s facade on Google Maps, I nearly squealed, I was so pleased.

Eventually, Olivier said, “Am I playing your husband now?”

At the reminder, I wrinkled my nose. “It was spur of the moment.”

“We’re fortunate that man didn’t look at your bare finger.”

Good point. I should’ve gone with boyfriend. Why had I chosen husband? I was all of twenty-two. I wasn’t exactly ready for marriage, nor was I so thirsty for this golden prince sitting next to me that I wanted to marry him right this second.

Except, as Olivier gazed down at me, his gray eyes inscrutable, I had a feeling I was lying to myself, at least in part. No, I didn’t want to marry the guy. But I already knew I wanted to be more than his reluctant ally in this ridiculous quest we were on.

Then he reached out and brushed his thumb against my cheek. His thumb continued its path until it brushed against my lower lip. I began to tremble.

He leaned forward, and I waited for the kiss that never came.

“You still have dirt on your face,” he said gruffly, pulling away.

I couldn’t breathe. Then a hot blush crept up my face, and I felt very, very stupid for thinking he’d actually wanted to kiss me, right here in the middle of a park.

At that moment, a handful of young women made their way over to Olivier, stars in their eyes. Great. Groupies.

They squealed something in French, and before I knew it, Olivier was standing to meet them, a smile plastered on his face. He spoke to them with enthusiasm, and I swore they all sighed collectively as a single entity.

Feeling petty, I sidled up to him and, like I had earlier in the day, weaved my arm through his. “Baby, who are these women?” I said in a voice that got more strident with every syllable. “You told me you wouldn’t cheat on me again!”

The girls looked nonplussed. “Who is this?” one said.

Olivier tried to dislodge my hand, but I just gripped him tighter. “You can’t leave me!” I gripped his shirt with my free hand. “I’m pregnant with your baby!”

The girls gaped at Olivier. Olivier, for his part, pushed me rather hard behind him, saying in English, “She’s insane. Don’t listen to her.”

“That’s not what you said last night!” I yelled into his back.

It took five more seconds for the girls to turn tail and run. One looked over shoulder and shook her head at us.

Olivier glowered down at me. “Are you happy?” he growled.

“With my baby daddy cheating on me? I’m devastated.”

“You’re insane. And now those girls are going to post all about this on social media—”

“I’m sure there have been worse rumors about you floating around on the Internet.” I patted his arm. “At least I didn’t accuse you of murdering puppies.”

Chapter Eleven

My brother Liam glared at me through my phone screen. “Why do you keep ignoring my calls?” he demanded.

Okay, I had been ignoring his calls. I’d also yet to inform Liam about the whole thing with Olivier, the clock, and our da. Liam knew I’d gone to Ireland to deal with our grandda’s estate, but I hadn’t told him I’d wanted to look for our da. He’d blow a gasket.

“I’m busy,” I said, which was true. “Besides, the time difference means you keep trying to call me in the middle of the night.”

“Not true. I’ve always called you in the morning here, which would be the afternoon your time.” He peered at me, like he could make out all of my secrets. “You look tired.”

“Wow, thanks, bro. You always know how to make a girl feel good.”

“I told you I didn’t want you going over there by yourself. Is it too much? Maybe you should come home.” He upped the guilt trip by adding, “Your nieces miss you.”

Liam and his wife Mari had two daughters. Fiona had just turned four, while Dahlia was almost two. They were both hellions, and I missed them terribly.

I heard something that sounded like a crash in the background. “Are they setting the house on fire?” I asked.

Liam turned his head to yell, “Leave your mother’s makeup alone!” He turned back to me. “She’ll rip me limb from limb if they destroy her makeup again.”

“Maybe you should go make sure they aren’t ruining your marriage and end this call with me.”

He laughed darkly. “You wish.” He got up, and I got to experience walking with him, which made me a little seasick. I waited for him to deal with my nieces, who’d apparently gotten into one of Mari’s expensive eyeshadow palettes but had yet to start using it.

“What did I tell you, Fi?” Liam’s voice was frustrated, but I could hear amusement in it, too. “You can’t keep using your little sister like a baby doll to practice makeup.”

“Aw, Daddy, please!”

You’d have to have a heart of stone to ignore that plea. My brother, who’d become a total squish of a man since he’d married and started a family, wasn’t impervious to that plea.

“Hey, let me talk to them,” I said.

Liam switched his phone so I could see my nieces. Fiona was a redhead like Mari, while Dahlia had my brother’s dark hair, similar to mine. Fiona had always been a daredevil. With Dahlia, she had someone to drag along and use as a baby doll. Dahlia was too sweet-natured to protest, at least for now.

“Hi, Aunt Niamh!” said Fiona. She held up a giant necklace she’d probably pilfered from Mari, too. “Do you like my necklace?”

“It’s very pretty.”

“Did your mother say you could wear that?” was Liam’s question.

Fiona, too smart for a four-year-old, merely batted her lashes and said, “We