Just then the dining room door opened and a tall, slender woman staggered inside.

"Am I late?" she asked as she leaned heavily against the door frame.

She was casually dressed, with long, curly red hair and pale skin that only emphasized the shadows under her eyes.

Francesca stood. "Kelly? What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing. I'm here. Hooray." She took a step and almost lost her balance. An even taller, thinner man appeared behind her. He grabbed her around the waist and kept her on her feet.

"Hello," the man said, his voice faintly accented.

French, Rafael thought. Working class.

Francesca's husband stood. "Kelly, what the hell is going on?"

"I'm here for the party." Kelly looked at Rafael. "So you're the new guy. Cool. Mia, he's really, really cute. Is he rich, because rich is always such a plus."

"You're drunk," Francesca said, sounding stunned. "Kelly, tell me you're not drunk."

"I'm not drunk." Kelly took a step and found herself contained by the man's arm. "Oh, yeah. This is Etienne. We're lovers. But he's not rich. He's just a dancer, like me."

She turned in a slow, graceful move, then sank to the floor and passed out.

* * *

The dinner broke up early. Mia got Danny down for the night and then went looking for Rafael. She found him outside, leaning against the fence by the vegetable garden. Umberto and Oliver weren't around, but she saw lights in the guest house and figured they'd settled in for the night.

She paused at the bottom of the steps and stared at the large silhouette of the man who had once been her lover. She couldn't see his face, only the rough outline of his body, but it was enough to help her remember what she had felt when they had been together.

Between mourning his death, finding out she was pregnant, then dealing with a baby and law school, she hadn't been in a relationship since she'd been with him. For the past couple of years she'd wondered if that part of her was dead. But now, in the darkness, her body stirred back to life. Wanting filled her and she ached to feel his touch on her skin.

But it was more than that. She wanted to talk as well as touch. They had different worldviews and had frequently argued. He'd never been intimidated by her intelligence.

He turned and saw her. "Mia."

There was pleasure in his voice, as if she were the one person he'd been waiting for.

"Daniel is asleep?" he asked.

"In theory. I read him two stories and then turned out the lights. After all the excitement at dinner, it may take him a while to zonk out."

"Ah, yes. The unexpected arrival. Very dramatic."

She moved toward him and stopped next to the fence. "I don't understand what's happening with Kelly. She's always been so together and mature. I'm not horrified that she drinks— she's on her own and most of her friends in the ballet company are a few years older— but that she would show up here drunk. She had to know everyone would be here."

"Perhaps she wasn't prepared to face the entire family. Responsibility can be daunting."

Mia rested her forearms on the fence railing. "Kelly's been a part of the family since she was a kid. No one scares her. She loves being here. She would come and spend long weekends here several times a year. I've never seen her like that. I wonder if it's the guy."

"Etienne?"

"Yeah. He's new."

"Would you like me to have Umberto, how do you say, check him out?"

She smiled. "That's really nice, but Joe's already on it. No one messes with his family." She thought about Kelly's boyfriend and shuddered. "He's too old, too dirty, too yuck. What does she see in him?"

"Few can see into the secrets of a woman's heart," he told her.

Kelly a woman? Was it possible? Mia still remembered her as the mouthy twelve-year-old who had been determined not to let everyone know how much she was hurting inside. Still, she was twenty and making her own way in the world.

"Sometimes I forget how complicated our family is," she said. "It's not usually this crazy."

"I suspect it is; however, that is part of the charm."

She laughed. "We're many things, but I'm not sure charming describes us."

"You are wrong. I am enchanted by the Grands, as you call them."

"Even Grandma Tessa?"

"Especially her." He smiled. "I like that she wants me to earn her respect. I prefer my women difficult. There is much love and concern, each of you for the other."

"That's true. We're excellent at meddling. I guess it's not like that in royal circles."

"No. My parents had an arranged marriage. My mother died when I was young and I do not remember much about her."

"Rafael." She touched his arm. "I know that was hard. I feel bad that I don't know that much about your life."

"You are not one to read gossip magazines, where my entire life has been detailed. I grew up prepared to one day rule Calandria. There are many responsibilities both then and now."

"Even when you were three?"

"Of course. I had to learn about my country's history, the people. I had nannies and tutors. When I was eight, I was sent to England to begin my education."

Just like that. Sent away from all that was familiar. "Sounds barbaric."

He shrugged. "It was necessary."

"Because you can't get an education at home?"

"Because that is how things are done." He touched her chin, raising her head so that she looked at him. "You are too softhearted."

"Gee, no one's ever accused me of that before."

In the night, his eyes were dark, as she remembered them. Here in the shadows, the blurring of Diego into Rafael was more pronounced. The past seemed closer somehow.

"So now you're duty guy?" she asked, her voice low. "All for the crown and the people?"

"Something like that."

"Any arranged marriages in your future?"

"No."

"But you will be marrying a princess or duchess or some other kind of 'ess' woman."

"It is expected."

She really had to go check out those gossip magazines and learn a little bit more about Rafael, she thought, as he seemed to move closer.

"Since when do you do what is expected?" she asked.

"On occasion it has occurred."

"But an arranged marriage. What if you don't like her?"

"Then I will say no."

"You can do that?"

"Arranged is different from forced. I accept suggestions but the final choice is mine."

"And hers."

"Yes. Hers as well." He sighed. "Did you always talk this much? I remember more silence."

"Then you remember wrong. I've always— "

He cut her off with a kiss.

The moment his lips brushed hers, she felt her entire body begin to melt. He had been the last man to kiss her, to touch her, to make love with her. She had mourned him, knowing she would never want to give her heart again. Not when having it broken had nearly destroyed her.

Yet here he was, so familiar. In the darkness she could pretend he was Diego once again.

As he pulled her close, she went willingly, finding comfort and need in the familiar strength of his body. His scent aroused her nearly as much as the pressure of his mouth claiming hers.

He still kissed with a combination of imperiousness and passion that left her breathless. The light touch of his tongue on her lower lip had her parting instantly. Wanting had her clinging to him, desperate for more.

He plunged inside her mouth and claimed her. Waves of passion nearly brought her to her knees as she felt the familiar desire and tasted the man she remembered.

His hands were everywhere— down her back, on her arms, at her waist. She couldn't get close enough. She wanted to crawl inside of him and let the old emotional wounds of missing him finally heal.

"Mia," he breathed as he kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. "How I have missed you."

It was too much. The need combined with that voice. The voice that had haunted her dreams for nearly five years.

Diego, she thought. Only not Diego. Rafael.

He raised his head. "So the fire still lives between us," he murmured. "Tell me you can feel it."

She drew in a slow breath. "You know I can."

He dropped his hand to the small of her back and drew her against him. Her belly brushed against his erection.

"This is what you do to me, what you have always done." He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. "My father has been parading all sorts of appropriate young women in front of me for years. Marry this one or the next one, he tells me. But I refuse. I know my duty to my people and yet I can't deny the hunger of my heart. I need more than an arranged marriage. From that comes only children. My father says to take a mistress along with my wife. But that is not for me."

He smiled. "Have you missed me?" he asked quietly.

"Every now and then."

"You tease me."

"A little. I was devastated when I thought you were dead. I didn't think I'd make it. Finding out I was pregnant saved me."

"I only had the memories of our love," he told her. "You did love me, didn't you? You said you did."

"More than I should have."

He kissed her. "So much lost. So much time wasted."

She felt as if she'd had too much wine, except she'd only had the one glass at dinner. Still, her head was spinning and she couldn't seem to think straight.

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"That we have been given a second chance, Mia. I have found you again. We have a son. Daniel will one day be king of Calandria. But to see him grow up as I did— it cannot be. You would change that. You are strong enough to stand against tradition."

She took a step back. "Danny's not going to grow up like you."

"I know. You will not let him. We will not let him."

Sure, he was Danny's father, but Mia had trouble thinking of Rafael and her as a "we."

"It is you. It has always been you," he told her. He kissed her again, then took her hands in his. "Marry me, Mia. Marry me and be my princess."

An earthquake would have made sense. Hey, this was California and the earth moved all the time. Locusts might have even been okay because they were in the Bible and she had seen one once in a museum. But a proposal of marriage from Prince Rafael of Calandria? Not in this reality.

"You're crazy," she said as she jerked her hands free of his. "Marry you? I don't know you and you sure as hell don't know me. Rafael, it's been three days."

He laughed. "I know how many hours and minutes. Would you like to hear? I thought you were lost to me and now you are found. I cannot let you go."

He captured her hands again and kissed her knuckles. It was a pretty smooth move, but then he'd had prince lessons. What other guy stood a chance?

"Don't say no. Give me time to prove myself. We have another chance, Mia. How many people can say that? I don't want to lose you again."

She didn't know what to say. Marriage? Sure, he was the father of her child, but she'd been thinking along the lines of Danny's spending a couple of weeks each summer in Calandria.

"I have a life," she said. "School. Family."

Instead of responding, he stared into her eyes. She felt his presence as tangibly as if he'd thrown a blanket across her shoulders. There was warmth and protection. And the ever-present need.

She had loved him once, she reminded herself. Or at least the man he'd pretended to be. How much had been about playing Diego and how much had been real?