"Did you?"

No. She'd fallen apart— a new experience for her. She'd grown up confident and ready to rule the world. But something had happened in the short weeks she'd spent pretending to be an American looking for adventure.

"I thought you were the bad guy," she told him, still furious that she'd been lied to. "I thought I was betraying my country by falling for you."

He stepped toward her. "Mia, do not distress yourself."

What was she supposed to do? Be happy? "If I can't believe who you were, how can I believe who you are?"

"Perhaps you don't have to. Perhaps we could start at the beginning. Meet now." He held out his right hand. "Good morning. I am Rafael, Crown Prince of Calandria. And you are?"

She sighed. "Sorry, no. That isn't going to work. We can't just start over. There's too much messy past between us. Too many years."

"So I should not have come? You are not happy to see me?"

"I'm…" Annoyed, confused, furious, shocked. "I'm not really a morning person."

"Of course. You want me to leave."

He turned, as if prepared to walk to his limo and disappear from her life. Only she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

"Wait," she said. "I… What do I call you? Prince Rafael? Your highness?"

"Rafael is fine."

"All right. Rafael. This is happening so quickly. I don't know what to think or believe. I need a little time. We have to talk. I'm still not clear on why you're here."

"To see you."

Was that all? "If you saw the picture, then you saw Danny."

He frowned slightly. "The boy? The child of one of your sisters."

Mia clutched her coffee. It was true that the caption hadn't identified the child in the picture, or her for that matter.

She didn't know if Rafael was telling the truth. She'd long since learned to be wary of the men she brought into her life. They were usually snakes. Diego had been no exception, but was Rafael different?

Did it matter? Either way, she had to tell him. He deserved to know.

"Danny is my son," she said, doing her best to keep her voice even. "And yours."

Rafael timed his reaction carefully. To show too much shock would be to put Mia on her guard. To show not enough would mark him as an indifferent father.

"My son?" he asked as he took a step back. "What are you saying?"

"I was pregnant when I left Calandria. Only a week or so along. I didn't know, obviously. When I came home, I was pretty broken up about everything. Finding out I was pregnant saved me."

He saw the pain in her eyes as she spoke and knew he had no reason not to believe her. Besides, he and Mia hadn't been lovers for more than a couple of weeks before the sting had ended.

"I had no idea," he said, willing his expression toward disbelief. "You had a child? Your government kept that from me as well?"

"I'm not sure they knew," she told him. "I quit and came home. That was the end of my relationship with the agency. Unlike in the movies, they didn't spend a lot of time begging me to return to my old job."

"Someone should have told me," he growled, not having to fake the anger he felt. What Mia didn't know was that it was directed at himself. He'd been the one who hadn't bothered to follow up with her. To make sure there were no consequences of their time together. For the past four years his son, his heir, had existed and he hadn't known.

"I would have, except I thought you were dead," she said sharply, then sighed. "Sorry. I don't mean to be crabby. This is all so much. Too much. I don't know what Danny's going to think. All his life, I told him his father died before he was born." She looked at him. "You're not questioning your paternity. I'm not lying, but you'll probably want to check this all out. It would be a big deal for any guy, but I'm guessing an even bigger one for a prince."

She was telling the truth. Before sneaking into Mia's room, he'd visited the boy. The child had slept soundly and it had been easy to check the small of his back. There, just to the left of his spine, was the small star-shaped birthmark all the men in his family possessed. The child was his, but better to play along and pretend to not be sure.

"I have never doubted your integrity," he said. "But under the circumstances proof will be necessary. I'm sure we can arrange for a DNA test of some kind."

"Circumstances?" she repeated. "You mean the one where you're a prince and heir to a throne and I'm just some commoner from California?"

"I would not describe you thus," he said, moving close and taking her hand in his. Her skin was warm and he enjoyed the contact.

Five years ago he'd claimed Mia as his own because it had pleased him to do so. Now he would claim her for other reasons, but the task would still be most pleasant.

"Great," she murmured, then took a sip of her coffee as she carefully pulled free of his touch. "Let me recap. You might be Diego, and hey, an heir to the Calandria throne. You're also not dead. In the short time we were together five years ago, I managed to get pregnant, because that's just how my luck goes. Now you're back and we're parents together. Did I miss anything?"

He remembered the first time he'd met her. Even then he'd been unable to decide which he admired more— her spirit or her beauty. His dilemma had not changed.

"Those seem to be the salient points," he said.

"Great. I need more coffee."

She took a step and stumbled on the uneven ground. He reached for her, grabbing her arm and holding her upright. She reached for him with her free hand— to steady herself, he was sure— which left them standing very close.

He found himself staring into her brown eyes. He could feel the warmth and enticing curves of her body. Her mouth called to him. Whatever else might or might not have happened with Mia, he had always wanted her. Apparently time apart hadn't changed that fact. How convenient.

"Mia," he whispered.

"Don't even think about it," she told him, but she didn't move away.

"Why would I think when action is so much more pleasurable?" he asked as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her breath caught. She stiffened but stayed in his arms.

Then a loud voice cut through the morning and broke the mood completely.

"Step away from my sister. Do it slowly and I probably won't shoot you in the back."

2

Rafael straightened but didn't move away. Mia took advantage of his momentary distraction and stepped back so she could look at Joe.

Sure enough, her former Navy SEAL brother held a mean-looking handgun inches from Rafael's back. While she appreciated Joe's concern about her safety and that he was willing to be all macho and protective, she wasn't sure shooting the father of her son was an especially good idea. Not yet, anyway. Although she kind of liked seeing Rafael at the business end of a gun.

"I don't think he's dangerous," she said, only to gasp in surprise as two large and burly men in dark suits rounded the side of the house. Each of them had an equally impressive-looking handgun. They shouted in Italian, then in French, for Joe to drop his weapon.

In a move too fast for her to see, Joe grabbed Rafael and held his gun to the base of his neck.

"Get behind me," Joe told her. "Who the hell are you?" he asked the other two. "What do you want?"

Okay, this was quickly getting out of hand. Mia looked at Rafael. "Let me guess— the bodyguards?" Traveling with protection certainly helped his credibility on the whole "I'm a prince" thing.

"Yes. Umberto. Oliver. There is no need to attack anyone so early in the morning. This is only a misunderstanding." Rafael, apparently unconcerned about the gun pressing into his neck, smiled at Joe. "Is it not?"

He sounded calm, which Mia respected.

The bodyguards, however, were not moved. They kept their weapons trained on Joe.

Just then the back door to the kitchen opened. Grandma Tessa walked out and planted her hands on her hips. "If you boys are finished playing, breakfast is ready." Her eyes narrowed. "It's getting cold."

Mia glanced at the men and realized this could take a minute. Rather than deal with the diplomatic disarming, she stepped around Joe and hurried toward the house. Maybe running away wasn't her preferred method of dealing with problems, but Rafael wasn't a normal problem. Besides, she had to be somewhere.

"Mia?" Rafael called after her. "Perhaps you could ask your brother to release me."

"You used to be a dangerous outlaw," she told him as she passed Grandma Tessa on the stairs. "You figure it out."

Once she was inside, she made her way to the second story. She'd grown up here— lived her life surrounded by these walls. At sixteen she'd gone to college but had still considered the hacienda home. At twenty-three she'd returned pregnant, emotionally devastated. Her family had taken her in and made her feel welcome.

In time she would leave again and take her son with her. They would start a new life, but they would both always remember their time here.

When she reached the bedroom on the end, right across from her own, she paused in front of the closed door and pressed her hand against the painted wood.

Everything was about to change. She didn't know where they would end up, but as of this minute, her world had been tilted on its axis. Until this morning she'd wondered if her son would be interested in inheriting Marcelli Wine and the acres of vineyards around the house. Now, apparently, he might be next in line to inherit a whole country.

She opened the door and stepped into the colorful, toy-filled bedroom and smiled as her son sat up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you sleep well?"

"Mommy!" Danny held out his arms.

When she plopped down on the mattress, he climbed into her lap and leaned his head against her chest. Automatically she picked up his treasured stuffed tiger and handed it to him. He held it close while she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him back and forth.

"We have a busy day," she said softly. "So many things to do. Grammy M and Grandma Tessa have finished your costume."

He looked up at her and grinned. "For my play?"

"Uh-huh. I think maybe later we should practice your lines again."

"I know 'em."

She smiled. He knew his three lines about as well as any other child in his preschool class. Which meant the play would consist of a lot of parental prompting and giggles from the kids.

Danny snuggled close. She breathed in the scent of him, knowing she could find him in the dark by smell alone. He was her child and her world. From the moment she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd known it would always just be the two of them. Well, as much as it could be the two of them, given her extended and loving family and the fact that she lived in the same house as her parents and both grandmothers.

"I want chocolate cake," he said.

She laughed. "Hmm, yesterday it was peanut butter."

"Grammy M said a peanut butter cake would stick to the roof of my mouth. So chocolate."

His fourth birthday was still nearly a month away, but Danny took the cake decision very seriously. As this was the first year he'd actually had an opinion, Mia was more than willing to let him pick.

"Chocolate it is," she said as she kissed the top of his head then set him on the floor. "Okay, big guy. Let's get you dressed."

Danny rubbed his eyes, set down his tiger, and tugged at his PJ shirt. He got it over his head, where it got stuck. Mia pulled until he popped free and grinned at her.

She pulled open a drawer and called out colors. "Blue, green, red, or yellow?"