A Prince of a Guy Read online

  She wanted more of that.

  “The help I need is different,” Carlyne said. “Francesca, if your sister had a kid, and she went off and left you with that kid for a couple of weeks because she had a job, would you watch after it?”

  “Of course,” Francesca said immediately.

  Of course. That simple. Unconditional love. No question, no hesitation. “I wouldn’t have said ‘of course,”’ Carlyne admitted quietly. “A few days ago I would have spent however much money it took and shipped the kid off for full-time care. And I probably wouldn’t have given it another thought.”

  “Well, you’re not exactly experienced in matters of the heart,” Francesca said gently. “But while we’re on that, I think maybe it’s time for you to come clean.”

  “Clean?”

  “With Sean. Carlyne, we talked about this already, remember? When you had me get your references. We agreed Sean should know who you really are.”

  “No, you agreed and I yessed you.”

  “Carlyne.”

  “Okay, yes, he should know.” She sighed, lay back and stared at the ceiling of her perfect, cozy little bedroom. “I’m just not ready to tell him yet.” She looked out the window into the night, saw the flash of someone swimming in the pool. A strong arm. A long, powerful leg. A smooth, muscled back.

  Her stomach tightened. “Not quite yet,” she said softly.

  Beneath the shimmering moon, Sean executed a somersault turn at one end of the pool and continued swimming with even, powerful strokes. “I’ve got to go,” she whispered.

  “But—”

  “I’ll call you again.”

  “See that you do. I’m worried about you.” Across the miles Francesca let out a sigh. “Think about it, Carlyne. Think about how he’ll feel when he does find out, on his own.”

  Sean’s arms propelled his body through the water. “He won’t.”

  “Why? Because you’re unrecognizable?” Francesca laughed. “You’ve been dodging the paparazzi since you could walk, Carlyne. It’s only a matter of time before you mess up or he gets a clue. Then he’ll know your little secret, and I don’t see him being happy at being made a fool, no matter what your intentions.”

  “It won’t matter to him.”

  “It won’t matter that he has a princess baby-sitting for him?”

  “That title is nothing but froth.”

  “But it is your title.”

  In the water, Sean slowed slightly, his only sign of tiring. He’d finish soon and haul that leanly muscled body out of the water.

  Carlyne wanted to watch. She wanted to be front and center. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if he discovered her true identity. “I’ve got to go, Francesca.”

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Call me every day.”

  “I will. Bye.” Instead of pulling off her disguise, as she’d been waiting all day to do, Carlyne opened her door and let in the cool, California night air.

  Then she walked toward the pool.

  When she was on the edge, she sat, careful to tuck her skirt beneath her this time so Sean couldn’t reach for a leg and pull her in. But the memory of him doing just that the night before, of his large, still damp hand sliding up her ankle to grip her calf, altered her breathing.

  He stopped swimming. Treading water in the middle of the pool, he looked at her with an intense but unreadable expression.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Where’s your bathing suit?”

  No greeting. No recriminations for destroying his office. Just where’s your bathing suit. Her breathing quickened all the more because she could only imagine what would happen beneath the starless night sky if she’d put it on.

  If she was really Carly.

  But if she followed through with this crazy attraction, he’d discover the truth about her. Never again would he look at her the same. She knew this for a fact, because in her life, it had happened over and over again.

  She had two kinds of acquaintances. The people who wanted to know her simply because of who she was and the kind who, once they found out, were too full of awe and disbelief to maintain any honest relationship at all.

  That would happen here, too, and at the thought, her heart ached.

  Caught by her own trap. Her own doing.

  How had this happened?

  This was supposed to be an escape. A little interlude in her life.

  Only now she realized how others would be affected. Melissa.

  Sean.

  “Carly?”

  God, that name. It represented all she wanted to be, open and free to do as she pleased. The opposite of Princess Carlyne Fortier, a woman tied by the bonds of responsibility and duty. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

  An odd mix of disappointment and relief crossed his face. “We could buy you one.” He put two hands on the edge of the pool and with a flex of muscles that stole her breath, effortlessly pulled himself out of the water. Wet skin glimmered in the pale moonlight, and from the erotic position of sitting at his feet, she watched drop after drop run down the length of his body.

  And what a body it was.

  “Carly?”

  She realized he’d said her name at least twice, and that he held out a hand.

  Slipping hers in his, she let him pull her to her feet.

  “About today,” he said quietly, not letting go of her hand, his intense gaze holding hers prisoner. “You seemed to be having a little trouble handling Melissa.”

  Oh, God, he had noticed. “I’m sorry about your office,” she said.

  “It survived.”

  Barely. “Yeah. Nikki is great, you know. She helped me clean up.” Carlyne grimaced. “And then asked me not to visit you at work anymore.”

  “Sounds like Nikki.” He grabbed his towel and started to dry off. “So…what happened?”

  “It’s new to me, Melissa’s age.” Sidetracked, she watched him dry his chest, his legs. “She’s…very active.”

  He went still. “Too active?”

  “No. No, I can do this. I know I can.”

  He straightened and tossed the towel aside. “Melissa said so, too. She said you’re nice. The highest compliment, really, as she doesn’t like many people these days.”

  He’d asked Melissa about her. Was it because he worried he’d made a hasty decision? Or was Carlyne unconsciously transmitting her own doubts?

  “One thing I keep wondering about.” He stepped a little closer. “You know computers. You were able to put mine back together with nothing more than a screwdriver and your wits.”

  Another degree and another special talent of hers. But it wasn’t a passion, and it bored her.

  “So how does a nanny know so much about hardware?”

  “Oh, I picked up a little here and there.”

  There was a stray strand of hair in her face. Not her hair, it was the wig, but Sean reached out and touched it, tucked it behind her ear.

  Too close, she thought with a hitch in her breath that had everything to do with his nearness, and she backed up a step.

  His hand, still hovering, abruptly dropped to his side. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have touched you.”

  “It’s okay.” Do it again. Kiss me.

  His eyes smoldered. “What?”

  Oh God, she’d spoken out loud, but before she could say a word—and really, what could she say when she’d spoken the utter truth—Sean let out a rough laugh. “I must be crazy to give you a chance to change your mind.” He slipped a hand around her waist, his fingers stroking low on her spine, urging her even closer. His other hand curved around her neck, his fingers playing with the sensitive skin at her nape.

  And his mouth, his beautiful, sexy mouth slowly descended to hers in a kiss that instantly stole her breath. He was still wet, enough that when she pressed herself against his tough, hard body, she became wet, too.

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