by Mindy Neff
“Girls,” she said again when they didn’t immediately react to her directive.
Grumbling, neither one wanting to relinquish their hold, Emily and Sophie finally managed to set the cat on the floor. Good thing their movements were fairly well synchronized, otherwise the poor cat would have ended up as an unwilling contortionist.
“I have a suggestion,” Antonio announced. “Rather than calling the information center, the four of us can go into town and post a notice on the bulletin board. If anyone has lost their pet, that will be the first place they look.”
The girls’ expressions vacillated between excitement over getting out of the house, and mutiny over the possibility of having to give up their newly adopted pet.
Aside from her daughters’ issues, Chelsa automatically resisted. “A phone call will accomplish the same thing.”
Antonio, being the astute man he was, noticed her evasion. He reached over and covered her hand with his. “You need to get out, querida. And I need to purchase additional clothes.” His dark eyes held her, enticed her. “Come to town with me.” He brought out the big guns next. “Sophie and Emily need to feel a sense of normality.”
“That’s not fair.” His reminder stung. “They aren’t lacking in activities. The private beach and the water keeps them plenty busy...and happy.”
“And away from people.”
Her chin jutted forward, her eyes meeting his squarely. “Yes.”
“I thought we had moved past the trust issue. I would not steer you wrong.”
“Not deliberately. But I think you don’t realize your effect on people. You can’t control everything and everyone around you.”
“Chelsa, Chelsa.” He shook his head. “You have not been paying attention. I grew up around here. Ernesto Vicente taught me to fish when I was barely Sophie’s age, and his wife, Alicia, tanned my hide when I attempted to fly from the roof overhang of her fruit stand.”
Astonished, Chelsa laughed. “You didn’t.”
“I did. The tablecloth was a miscalculation on my part. It did not make an effective parachute.” He glanced at the girls who were listening avidly. “You must learn from my mistakes, niñas, and never attempt such a folly.”
The girls shook their heads.
Chelsa pushed back a stray curl that had escaped her ponytail. “And the woman actually spanked you? A prince?”
“Absolutely. And in front of the queen, too, who watched with entirely too much satisfaction, if you ask me.” He shook his head, his dimples winking boyishly. “You must believe me, querida. To the people of San Alegra, I am merely one of their family. They are not impressed by my money.”
“Or your title?”
“I do not use the title,” he dismissed. “Come. Let us explore, see if anyone is missing a scrawny cat, shop a bit.” He stood and pulled Chelsa to her feet. Sophie and Emily scrambled down from the table, dancing around them, begging for an affirmative answer from Chelsa.
Oh, she was losing ground fast.
“Say yes,” he urged, adding an intimacy to his deep voice that was so hot, it nearly singed her.
She couldn’t hold out against their pleading. Imagine, she thought, a prince begging. It tickled her.
Besides, with the storm they’d just had, and the ferry not due for five days yet, it wasn’t likely that Rick would show up—provided he was actually out of prison, she reasoned. And if he was, Mitch would have called her.
She’d told the girls this was a vacation. It was time to set aside her fears and not disappoint her daughters.
They’d had too many disappointments as it was.
“All right, you win,” she said, earning herself a gentle smile from Antonio and exuberant hugs from Emily and Sophie. Lord, the scene here in the kitchen was like one big happy family.
She was going to have to remember not to buy in to that fantasy.
* * *
It wasn’t a far walk into town. Sophie wasn’t thrilled when she’d found out they’d have to leave Señor Gatito at home, but Emily’s six-year-old wisdom soon set the frown to rights when she reasoned that nobody else could claim him if he was hiding in the house.
The sandy pathway, shaded by palms and ferns and sweet-smelling orchids soon gave way to more rural terrain as they reached the main road into town. A herd of goats cropped in a grassy field where white farmhouses and windmills dotted the land. All around them, the verdant expanse was carpeted by rich color and scent. Wildflowers flourished even in the cracks of the uneven pavement, pushing their happy faces toward the sun, while Spanish broom with its vibrant yellow blooms dotted the meadows.
It all seemed so tranquil, so innocent and fresh, but with the girls skipping ahead in carefree abandon, chasing butterflies and stray sheep, Chelsa couldn’t totally quell her nerves.
Obviously Antonio noticed.
“None of that, querida. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. You must think only happy thoughts, enjoy the adventure.”
She glanced at him. He wore his leather deck shoes without socks. Although his shirt was wrinkled—and missing a couple of buttons—his jeans had held up nicely through his shipwreck ordeal.
“Do you look at everything as an adventure?”
“Of course. I am dedicated to the art of having fun. In fact, if I am not mistaken, I believe there are some ponies just over the rise there. Mr. Benito frowns on people taking them for joyrides, but I’m betting he would turn a blind eye if the girls sneaked a quick trot around the path.”
She laughed despite herself. The man was incorrigible. “Do you work?”
“Play is my work.” He grinned at her, his dimples carving deep furrows in his lean cheeks. “Do not look at me like that. I earn excellent money in my pursuits.”
“Bragging, Your Highness?”
He tisked at her use of the title. “Merely convincing you that I am not a lazy bum. Tell me, bella. Would you tie yourself behind a desk or in a stuffy meeting with dignitaries and trade squabbles if you were making twenty-five-million American dollars on a single Grand Prix race?”
“Good night! That’s obscene.”
He laughed. “There’s another eight million that comes with endorsements.”
“How do you even begin to spend that kind of money?”
“Who has time to spend? When I am not working at play, I am working at managing the investments and attending charity functions.”
He touched her waist, gallantly steering her away from a thorny bush. “However, I will endeavor to spend some in town. You and the girls may pick out whatever you like. It will be my treat, my way of thanking you for the rescue and hospitality.”
“That isn’t necessary. Us Southerners are taught to be gracious. Besides, did your money make it on shore with you?”
“In San Alegra, I do not need bank notes. My credit is excellent.”
Which served as a swift, stark reminder that he was well-known. Not just here, but worldwide. Her heart gave an extra punch to her ribs. “Emily,” she called. “You and Sophie wait for us. You’re getting too far ahead.” She held out her hand, needing to touch them, to hold them close, to make sure they were safe.
“They are within our sight, querida. Nothing will harm them.”
She ignored his gentle admonishment. She might appear overprotective to him, but that was the way things were.
“You can count on me, Chelsa. Except...” He seemed to wrestle with himself over his next words.
“Except what?”
The hesitation was slight. “Do not trust me with your heart. I would not hurt you for the world.”
“No danger there. My heart has a thick wall around it.” She glanced away so he wouldn’t see the lie. She was terribly afraid that the wall was crumbling. But that wasn’t his problem. He was honest in his intentions.
And honesty was something she valued highly. Respected.
She felt much better once Emily and Sophie slipped their hands into hers. It gave her pause, though, when Emily turned
flirty eyes up to Antonio and reached for his hand also.
One big happy family, she thought again, and tried to dismiss the image from her mind. She’d been warned, gently to be sure, and with sincere compassion. It wasn’t Antonio’s fault that he was a man who inspired feminine fantasies, a man who made a woman automatically hope and dream and wish.
She set aside those impossible thoughts as they rounded the corner into the center of town that was quaint and welcoming. She’d been there before, to get supplies when she’d arrived. She hadn’t lingered, though; her nerves had been too tied in knots to appreciate the beauty.
And although the edges of fear would never truly be banished until there was some sort of closure with Rick, Antonio’s solid presence and good-faith promises somehow allowed her to contain it to a manageable level, allowed her to at least appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.
Floral arches spanned the narrow streets, connecting the vine-covered buildings. Boutiques, bars and restaurants lined the Calle de las Flores—street of the flowers. The air smelled sweet, of violets and lavender.
Farther down the street were buildings with façades painted in pastels and balconies draped with flowerpots. A sidewalk restaurant with white plastic tables and chairs and bright umbrellas invited customers to relax and enjoy the unhurried ambiance.
The cake shop they passed, with its impressive display of chocolate sculptures and confectionary, caused the girls to go into a near trance. Chelsa urged them forward, earning herself a hound-dog look from her three companions. Well, honestly, she thought. The wonderful smell alone would add three inches to her thighs.
“We will sneak back when she’s not looking,” Antonio assured the girls in a stage whisper. “But first we must shop, and I have a very special place in mind.”
“Do we have to ask the people about Señor Gatito?” Emily asked.
“Yes, little one. It would only be fair. You would not want another family to be sad over the loss of their pet, would you?”
Emily shook her head. Sophie just looked at him, obviously considering the merits of omission.
Antonio grinned. “Come. My friends will know if Señor Gatito is missing from a home. They know everyone on the island and the animals, too.”
“Can you buy me candy?” Sophie asked.
Chelsa opened her mouth to scold. Emily beat her to the punch. “It’s not nice to ask people for stuff, Sophie.” Cunningly she lifted inquisitive blue eyes to Antonio, feigning proper manners when it was more than obvious that she’d like to hear his answer.
He laughed. “But I have already promised to lead a shopping spree. If candy is on the wish list, then we will clean out the store.”
“I don’t think—”
Before Chelsa could finish, he placed a finger over her lips. “You must not spoil my fun, now. I am wanting to repay the three of you for rescuing me.” When she automatically started to argue, he hit her with the one thing she couldn’t refute. “And my friends operate their store on very little profit. Whether I need items or not, I make it a point to purchase many things so their till will ring favorably at the end of the week.”
“You come here that often?”
“At least once a month. Alicia and Ernesto are treasured friends.”
And very lucky to have the genuine devotion of someone like Antonio Castillo. Admiration sent a host of giddy butterflies loose in her stomach and she relented with good grace. He was like a happiness fairy, generously spreading goodwill wherever he went while leaving a person’s pride intact.
“In that case,” she said. “Lead on. I’ve always wanted to watch someone else hurt their credit card. I imagine you can manage that like a pro.”
“A pro, yes. But I assure you, querida, my credit cards are so fat, there is no way to hurt them.”
She gave him a playful shove, amazed at the sparks that zinged up her arm at the contact. “Bragger.”
“Ah, no, bella.” His gaze, when it focused solely on her, was exquisitely, breathtakingly intimate. As was the thumb he swept gently over her bottom lip. “I do not need to brag.”
Chelsa wondered if they’d somehow changed altitudes on their trek into town. Suddenly she was unable to draw a decent breath. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he wasn’t talking about money.
He was referring to sex—a subject that was starting to take center stage in every one of her waking and sleeping thoughts.
Chapter 6
Chelsa was sure everyone in the small store would notice her flushed cheeks and breathlessness, but that wasn’t the case. The tiny woman who came charging around the counter had eyes only for Antonio.
Exclaiming, chattering rapidly in Spanish, she kissed him on both cheeks and inspected him like a mother hen who’d just found her missing chick. She clucked over the bruise on his head and tisked at the missing buttons on his shirt, her brows drawn in worry.
Antonio allowed her to fawn, and Chelsa marveled at the sight. The woman was by no means royalty; her modest clothing and unpretentious style silently testified to her humble roots. Yet he treated her with the deference due a queen.
And rightly so, Chelsa thought with an inward giggle. This woman had paddled his behind! It was an image she couldn’t quite get to gel.
At last noticing Chelsa and the girls, Alicia turned, giving Antonio a smart pinch on the arm for leaving guests standing about.
“Come,” she said to Chelsa in English. “The boy has no manners and makes me forget my own. Ernesto!” she shouted over her shoulder. “We have guests.”
“You wound me, maligning my character, Señora Vicente,” Antonio said in mock affront. “I would have performed introductions immediately had you not snatched me straight to your bosom.”
“Oh, you are an impertinent scoundrel. Introduce me to your companions.”
He grinned and extended a hand to Ernesto who’d just wandered out of the back room at his wife’s summons.
“Alicia and Ernesto Vicente, I’d like you to meet my rescuers, Chelsa Lawrence and her daughters, Emily and Sophie. If not for them, I would be shark bait.”
“He exaggerates,” Chelsa said, moving forward, her hand extended. Ignoring the traditional Western greeting, Alicia pulled her into an embrace and kissed both cheeks, then treated the girls to the same. Sophie and Emily lit up like fireflies on a hot summer night. It had been a while since they’d been on the receiving end of such grandmotherly attention.
And Chelsa decided right then and there that what Antonio had said was true. These people would guard their own with a fierceness that was unquestionable.
“He always exaggerates,” Alicia said. “But I think in this case he speaks the truth, and for that you have our deepest gratitude. This boy is like a son to us, and I have the white hairs to prove it.” She sent Antonio an arch look.
“He told me about trying to fly off the roof,” Chelsa said.
Alicia shook her head. “That was tame compared to some of his other stunts. But if I listed his misdeeds we would be here all day, and I would have stomach pains in remembering.” She straightened a display of seashells. “Now then, Antonio usually makes frivolous purchases, although he does not know that I realize what he is doing.” She cast a loving eye his way, then looked back at Chelsa. “You, however, must not strain your budget. It is expensive these days to raise children, so I make you a good deal on whatever you need.”
“I don’t really—”
“I am in need of clothing,” Antonio interrupted. “And the girls must have candy, and for Chelsa, something pretty and fun and impulsive is in order.” The look he sent her caused her toes to curl. He was so sure of himself. And so thrilling.
“You’re awfully bossy.” She couldn’t muster any sternness to give her words punch.
Alicia laughed. “He thinks everyone should share his ideas. And, to an extent, I think we all do.” Like a tiny dictator, she pointed and waved and issued orders, proving that she was indeed worthy of giving Antonio a
run for his money. “Pick out your clothes, Antonio. There are no fussy maids to do your bidding, and you know where the merchandise is. Ernesto, you take these precious niñas and fill their sacks with sweets. And you, bonita,” she said, linking her arm with Chelsa’s, “I will keep entertained. No one comes to Vicente’s and is pressured to buy.”
“I have money—”
“No, no. We will talk.”
Chelsa stifled a grin. She imagined Alicia was going to talk and she was going to listen. That was okay. In learning to guard her privacy, she sometimes wondered if she’d lost her conversational skills. Around these people, it didn’t appear to matter. They interrupted at will.
“So, you rescued our boy. And you like him, no?”
“Well—”
“You be careful around that one. He is slippery.”
Chelsa glanced at Antonio—even the lure of candy hadn’t kept the girls from flocking to him. They giggled at something he said, added their opinions to his clothing choices and danced around him like gamboling puppies.
The sight and sound of their happiness—a happiness brought about by a playboy prince—caused her eyes to sting and her stomach to flutter. Especially when he looked up and caught her staring, giving her a smile that wrapped around her heart and squeezed.
Alicia noticed the warm look and nodded. “Bueno,” she said softly.
Chelsa frowned, flustered, and attempted to nip any assumptions before they bloomed. “He’s only a friend, Mrs. Vicente—”
“Alicia.”
“Of course. Alicia, I’m here on holiday with my daughters. Antonio is only staying because his yacht was wrecked, and as soon as the ferry comes, he’ll be leaving.”
“I have cautioned you to be careful, but I am wondering.... I have a hobby,” she said, causing Chelsa to scramble in order to keep up with the subject. “I study names and see if they fit the person. It is a rule in my family that expectant women must consult me before naming their offspring.”
