Page 28 of Royal Surrogate 1

A warm fuzziness fills me, watching Caspar tickle a now-laughing Noah as he carries him down the hallway. Yes, this man is more complicated than I thought. He’s better than I thought…beneath his royal arrogance and practiced charm I think there just might be a good man.

Stop. I shake my head, trying to chase that warm fuzziness away. I can be happy I’m not going to bear a child for some cocky asshole, but I still need to keep my other emotions in check. For my own sake.

So I lock them deep inside me, promising myself I’ll be stronger going forward.

CHAPTER 21

Caspar

I suppose I hadn’t counted on how exhausting a toddler could be. While Noah is still a delight, the fact that he quite literally runs everywhere has made it all too obvious that I’ve been neglecting the gym these past few months.

“Bubbles!” Noah cries, hitting the water in the bathtub, which causes the foam to fly into my face.

I blow the candy-scented bubbles from my nose, and Renae laughs along with my nephew. “Your uncle didn’t see that coming, did he?”

She’s been a good sport this weekend, helping me to care for the tot. He’s a lot more work than I remember, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m looking forward to having his parents return.

“Good one, chap,” I say, splashing with a bit of the foam.

Noah giggles with delight, slapping again at the water and creating a good bit of a mess around us.

Renae looks up at me with a smile. I don’t understand her. Not that I understand women at all, mind you, but this one has me completely confused. When I first suggested we care for Noah, she seemed horrified, put out, even. But then she seemed to warm to the idea. And now, she seems to genuinely care for the lad, as though she’ll be his actual aunt.

And Noah has certainly warmed to her. He’s taken to calling her Nay-nay, not that I could quibble. It suits her, having him give her a nickname. In fact, motherhood itself seems to suit her, given all that I’ve seen this weekend.

She pulls young Noah from the tub, wrapping him in a large fluffy towel.

“Nay-nay, I sleep with you and Caca.” Noah wriggles from her arms and runs—of course—out of my bathroom and leaps onto my bed.

“Your mommy and daddy will be home tonight,” Renae says, following him into the bedroom. “You can sleep with them.”

“No! Nay-nay and Caca!” He starts to jump on the bed, and she turns to me grinning. “He’ll fall asleep eventually.”

“Perhaps,” I say. I’m not certain what it is, but I find I don’t mind this at all. There’s something very…warm about it. It’s a feeling I can’t quite describe, but one I quite like.

She tilts her head. “You know, you’re a really good uncle. I didn’t think I’d be able to say that, but you are.” She nods, almost to herself. “You’re going to make a really good father.”

“Were you concerned that I wouldn’t?” Something pangs in my stomach. A few days ago, I don’t think I would have cared about her answer one way or the other. But today, I feel as though I very much do.

“I…I guess. I mean, it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?” Her smile goes from something genuine to something quite artificial. She turns back to Noah. “Careful, Noah. Not too close to the edge.”

“Nay-nay. And Caca.” Noah sings our names over and over as he jumps up and down on the bed, wet and naked.

“I care very much what you think.” I stand behind her, close enough that I can smell her hair. It’s lovely—a combination of the candy-scented bubbles and her own scent, lavender and something else. It takes every bit of me to keep myself from nuzzling against her neck.

She flinches—she must feel it, too. “Caspar…”

I can’t help myself. My hand slides against her hip, gliding around to her stomach. Her head falls against my chest, her neck arching so that I might kiss it?—

“Nay-nay and Ca—oh!”

It seems to happen in the blink of an eye, and somehow, Renae manages to catch Noah just as he bounces off the edge of the bed.

Noah laughs, and Renae kisses him on the cheek, turning them both to face me. “Your Uncle Caspar is naughty.”

“Naughty Caca!” Noah sings. “Naughty, naughty Caca!”

“Yes, yes,” I grumble, backing away from the two of them.

---