The Marcelli Princess Page 13



"He would have tutors."


"Now?"


"Of course. There's much he has to learn."


That didn't sound good. She remembered what Rafael had told her about his years growing up.


"Just so we're clear," she said flatly, "he's not being sent away to some European boarding school. He can go to a regular school with other Calandrian children."


Rafael stiffened as if she'd slapped him. "My son is the heir to the Calandrian throne."


"Funny, because my son is just a little boy. Are you saying Calandrian schools are substandard?"


"Of course not. They are the best in Europe."


"Then think of the money we'll save. Besides, if Danny is going to grow up to rule the people, doesn't it make sense that he get to know them from an early age?"


She could feel Rafael winding himself up for some kind of princely tirade, so she quickly asked, "Did you like being sent away when you were all of seven? Didn't you miss your friends and your family? Do you really want that for Danny?"


"There are traditions," he began.


"There's also reality. It's a new century, Rafael. How about pushing the monarchy into it? I'm not sending Danny away to school."


She also was fairly sure she wasn't going to be marrying Rafael anytime soon, although the idea was fun to think about.


"You are right," he said, stunning her into silence. "I did not enjoy being sent away. I was angry and resentful. I vowed it would be different for my son."


"You might want to remember that," she said, trying not to melt at the thought of a scared and lonely seven-year-old Rafael.


"Was it too horrible?" she asked.


"I survived. I had my uncle Vidal, who visited me frequently. My father's brother," he added. "We were close. Much closer than I ever was with my father."


She imagined it would be tough to get close to the king. "It's too bad your father didn't remarry. Having a woman around would have helped."


"Perhaps, but my father had done his duty and saw no reason to do it again."


Marriage as duty— an interesting concept. "What about marrying for love?" she asked.


Rafael took her hand and lightly kissed the tips of her fingers. "Such a thing would not occur to him."


"What are your thoughts on the concept?"


His blue eyes darkened with emotion. "I have turned down three acceptable arranged marriages and I have been unable to tell my father why. Each of the women was exactly what I said I wanted, and yet when the time came, I was not willing to marry for duty."


"What did you say you wanted?" she asked.


He smiled. "You know that is not important."


"I want to know how close a match I would be."


"You are Mia," he told her. "That is enough."


Great response, she thought. He was good at saying exactly the right thing. She really was going to have to go online and become more familiar with his past. Was he serious about the three potential princesses?


"You worry for nothing," he said as he stood and came around to her side of the table. He pulled her to her feet. "Remember what it was like between us. Think of how it could be again."


Dangerous territory. She knew she could easily get lost in the past, and that wasn't a smart place to hang out. She had a pretty big present to worry about, including an almost four-year-old son who would— amazingly enough— one day rule Calandria.


"Rafael, I've been thinking, and it's the reason I'm up so early this morning. What you proposed…" Bad choice of words. "Your suggestion is really flattering, but I can't see how we could ever make it work."


"I will show you." He moved in close and wrapped his arms around her.


She already had a good idea of where this was going. Not her favorite thing before she finished her first cup of coffee, but based on how great his kiss had been last night, she just might make an exception.


But before his mouth could claim hers, she heard footsteps in the hallway.


"Okay, that would be a chaperone on demand," she murmured as she stepped back and did her best not to look flustered.


David walked into the kitchen, took one look at them, and started back out. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just came down for coffee. Didn't mean to interrupt."


"You didn't. Really." Mia lunged toward him and grabbed his arm. "Rafael and I were finished."


Rafael smiled. "I would not say 'finished,' but we can certainly pick this up again later. Go ahead, David. Have your coffee. I will go and wake my son."


"Danny will like that," Mia said, more grateful for the interruption than she could say. Things were messed up enough without her getting lost in a sensual fog with Rafael. Sexual chemistry had never been their issue.


David crossed to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug. When Rafael had left, he looked at Mia.


"You always did do things in a big way."


She sighed. "This time, I didn't mean to. It was just one of those things."


He grinned. "Having a baby with the crown prince of a European nation doesn't just happen."


"It did to me. A week ago my life was perfectly normal. I had my plan. Finish law school, get a good job, get Danny into a nice private school in L.A., buy a condo. Suddenly I'm worried about co-parenting with a future monarch. It's unnerving."


"If anyone can handle it, you're the one."


She didn't feel like the one. She felt inadequate to the task and uneasy about Rafael. He was too charming, too everything. How was she supposed to resist him?


"It's good to see you," she said.


"I always like coming up here. The fact that we're planning a wedding here only gives me more excuses."


She wrinkled her nose. "Dinner turned into a disaster."


"What's up with Kelly? She was wasted."


"I don't know. I thought Francesca was going to pop a blood vessel. And Etienne. Yuck. Why is it some men think avoiding regular hygiene makes them sexy?"


The timer on the oven dinged. She grabbed a hot pad and pulled out the cinnamon rolls.


"You were always a frequent bather," she said. "I appreciated that. I just want you to know."


"Not a very high standard."


"I have others."


David was good-looking, in an easy all-American kind of way. While he and Mia were exactly the same age, their lives were so different. He'd graduated from college, gotten a great job at an investment firm, and had the perfect life. He was engaged to someone Mia liked a lot, owned his own home, and knew exactly where he wanted to be in twenty years.


She was a single mother, still living at home, with another year left in law school. Okay, yes, she had a master's and had been a spy, but she still felt as if she were waiting for her grown-up life to start.


David leaned against the counter. "I need your help."


She perked up. "Is this a shopping thing, because I am in the mood to spend some serious cash and it's always better if it isn't mine."


"It's not a shopping thing."


Damn. David had taken her with him to pick out Amber's engagement ring. They'd found the perfect set, with a 1.6 carat cushion-cut center stone. Mia considered it one of her crowning achievements in spending other people's money.


"It's Amber."


"What about Amber? She's fabulous." Mia grabbed the ingredients for frosting and set them on the counter. "Don't you dare tell me you're having second thoughts."


"I'm not," he said quickly. "How could I? Amber is incredible. Pretty and gentle and kind, and she thinks I'm funny."


"It's a miracle," Mia told him.


"Gee, thanks. She adores me, and I can't imagine ever loving anyone as much as I love her. I want to have kids with her. I want to grow old with her. I want to buy an RV with her."


"RV buying means it is serious." She measured out powdered sugar and butter. "So what's the problem?"


"You."


Mia paused in the act of pouring milk. "Excuse me?"


"She doesn't understand how I could have been in love with you once and not still be in love with you."


"Oh, please. You had me and realized you didn't want me."


He winced.


"I don't mean that in a bad way," she added quickly. "We were young and thought we were in love. We weren't. End of story."


"She doesn't see it that way. Every time we come here, she can't stop talking about you." He held up his free hand. "Before you say anything, I already thought about staying away, but we're supposed to get married here. It was Amber's idea. There are family holidays and gatherings. There's no way to avoid you."


"Kind of like flu season germs."


"You know what I mean."


"I do and I feel bad. Have you told her there's nothing between us? That we're like brother and sister— not that we were when we were having sex, because ick."


He grinned. "I've mentioned the brother/sister thing. And that you weren't very good in bed."


She glared at him. "Ha!"


"Mia, seriously. I need help."


"I'm not an expert," she told him. "Look, be honest with her. Tell her you don't want to lose her. Tell her no one else has ever mattered as much. That you'd be lost without her."


Sort of all the things she'd felt when she'd flown away in that helicopter after thinking she'd just watched Diego die. It had been the worst moment of her life.


"Tell her she's your world."


"You think?" he asked.


"I know. It'll work. Trust me."


"Thanks." He put down his coffee and held out his arms.


Mia abandoned her frosting and stepped into his embrace.


David felt good— solid and familiar. Like family.


"I mean this in a very nonromantic way," she said. "But I never stopped loving you."


"I know exactly how you feel."


Life being what it was, the short, friendly, comforting silence didn't last long. Mia distinctly heard a gasp. She turned just as David swore, and wasn't the least bit surprised to see a wide-eyed Amber quickly backing out of the kitchen.


David pushed Mia away with a speed that was almost comical. Mia watched him hurry after the woman of his dreams.


She finished with the frosting. Then, despite her earlier hunger for cinnamon rolls, she left them on the counter and climbed the stairs to her room. Once inside, she crossed to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer.


There were all kinds of mementos inside. Yearbooks, pictures from school, postcards from everywhere she'd traveled.


She wondered if she should help David explain, then shook her head. Nothing she could say would make a difference. The situation wasn't actually about her— it was Amber's inability to trust her fiancé and his feelings for her.


Funny how easy it was to see what was wrong with everyone else while she still wrestled with her own demons. Speaking of which…


She pulled out a small jewelry box from a corner of the drawer. Inside was a simple silver ring. Nothing fancy, no stones or engraving. But Diego had bought it for her one afternoon. He'd slipped it on her left ring finger and had kissed her.


"Now you are always mine," he told her. "For as long as the ring survives, so does our love."


She'd worn it nearly a year after she'd come back home. Then, after Danny had been born, she'd removed it and stored it away. The love that had been so precious to her was not destined to last.


Or was it? Diego was back, in a different form. The same man, a different person.

Prev Next