She should have known better than to think Vasco so predictable.
The courtyard had two doors leading out the other side, and she picked the one on the right, only to find it locked. The door on the left was open, and she crept through it with relief, but didn’t recognize the wide hall she found herself in. A large, rather faded tapestry covered one wall, and an ancient wooden chair stood in one corner. There were doors at both ends, but no clue which one led to the busier part of the castle.
Stella hurried to the nearest door and peeped through it. It scraped on the floor as she pushed it open a crack and her heart almost stopped when she found herself peering into what was obviously a chapel. Tall candles burned on a small altar and the smell of incense wafted from a censer above it. The morning sun lit up a series of jewellike stained-glass windows, strung amid carved columns like stones in a necklace.
Worse yet, three black-clothed bodies knelt at the altar—the “aunts”—deep in morning prayer. She shrank back from the door, but it was too late. One of them—Lilli—had already turned.
“Stella.” Her voice rang through the sacred space, rooting Stella to the spot like one of the carved statues above the altar.
Shoes in hand, she felt her face flush purple as all three heads turned to stare at her.
“Come join us for Matins.” For the first time she noticed the priest, a shadowy figure near the altar. Was this the right time to explain that she’d been raised Lutheran? She gulped and smiled. She was probably supposed to cross herself or curtsy or some of the things she’d seen in films, but right now she just wanted to die.
“Sorry, wrong room.” She backed away, shame pulsing through her veins, hoping they hadn’t seen too much of her crumpled dress. Maybe they wouldn’t put two and two together. What kind of woman would they think her if they knew she’d slept with Vasco on her second night at the palace?
She ran a hand through her tangled hair and scurried in the opposite direction, where she found herself in the great armaments chamber, facing the suit of armor she’d so readily stripped to don last night. What happened to her when Vasco was around? Normally she was a modest and reasonably sensible person.
Footsteps on the stone outside the room made her sink into a corner. Luckily the spotlights were turned off and she pressed herself against the wall beside a polished silver suit of armor until the sound disappeared into the distance.
This time she put her shoes on before venturing out again. At least then she could pretend she was up and dressed—if inappropriately—for the day, rather than creeping about in last night’s rumpled finery. She found her way back to the suite she shared with Nicky without too much trouble. The door to Nicky’s adjoining room was open and the sitter—a girl who worked in events planning—was asleep in an armchair next to the bed. Stella cringed at the realization that at least this one person would know exactly what she’d been up to last night.
Nicky was still sweetly asleep in the bed they’d made up for him, clutching the dinosaur Vasco gave him.
I’m so sorry, Nicky. I don’t know what I was thinking. What happened last night would certainly complicate things. Would it develop into some kind of romantic relationship? Or was it just a one night fling?
The latter would be awful. She’d rather not have known how astonishing and enjoyable good sex could be. And the thought of not being able to kiss Vasco again…
She shook her head, trying to clear it, as she walked back into her room. For now she had to keep going. She ruffled the bed, as if she’d just climbed out of it, then went into the adjoining bathroom for a shower. She almost laughed but the sight of her flushed face and wild hair in the mirror made it shrivel in her throat.
Everyone would know. And she couldn’t help thinking that’s exactly what Vasco intended. He’d been hugging her and fondling her and flirting with her since they got here, apparently keen for people to think they were an item. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to find out that he donated the royal seed to a sperm bank. That wouldn’t go over too well with his devout Catholic “aunties.”
Stella climbed into the stream of steamy water and wished she could scrub away her guilt and embarrassment at being so quick to jump into bed with him. He started it!
This time she did laugh, and when she emerged from the shower, she felt much better. She was also relieved to see that the sitter had left, so who knew, maybe her rumpled sheet ruse could have worked, too?
She took Nicky down for breakfast, hoping to finish quickly and go hide among the books—even though that would mean facing the “aunts” again so she could place Nicky in their care—before Vasco came down. She gulped hard when she saw him sitting at the table, biting into a slice of melon.
He rose to his feet with a mischievous smile when she entered. He held her gaze just a little longer than appropriate, then glanced down at Nicky and said something in Catalan.
Nicky smiled. “Hola, Papa.”
Stella stared at him. Now he was saying complete sentences in a foreign language? Not to mention calling this virtual stranger Dad. Vasco grinned, those inviting dimples puckering his tanned skin.
“Come join me.” He gestured at the chair beside his for Stella. “I bet you’re hungry.” His eyes flashed in a way that made her belly quiver and her face heat. Was he trying to embarrass her? Probably not. He was just being Vasco.
She rounded the table, still holding Nicky’s hand, and settled him into the chair next to Vasco. Better to have some distance between them. As soon as the child was seated, however, Vasco moved up to her and pressed his lips to hers. Too startled to protest, she found herself kissing him right over Nicky’s head. Desire roared to life inside her, and she was blinking and breathless when she finally managed to pull back.
She couldn’t help glancing nervously about to see if any of the staff were there.
“You look radiant.”
Hopefully that’s not because I’m pregnant. Now was not the time to ask if he’d used anything, though. She was furious with him for kissing her in front of Nicky—not that he’d noticed—and anyone else who might walk in.
“I’m not sure what got into me,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.
“I am.” His secretive smile only stoked the infuriating fires burning inside her. He handed her a plate of fruit. “You need to rebuild your strength.”
“My stamina is just fine, thank you.” She took a seat on the far side of Nicky and primly spread her napkin on her lap.
“I’m tempted to make you prove it.” He took another bite of melon, sinking his teeth in with obvious gusto. The gesture made her hips wriggle.
How could he carry on like this in front of his own innocent son? Obviously the man had no scruples. She reached for a piece of toasted muffin from a plate in the center of the table and spread it with butter. Vasco chattered away to Nicky in Catalan as if they were having a conversation. Stella almost dropped her knife when Nicky replied, “Sì, Papa.”
“Nicky, that’s fantastic. You’re learning to speak a new language.”
“Of course he is.” Vasco rubbed Nicky’s blond hair, messing it up. “It’s his native tongue.”
“He does seem to be picking it up surprisingly fast. He barely said a word until this month.”
“Because he was speaking the wrong language.” He spoke to Nicky again in Catalan. Stella couldn’t make out what he said, but Nicky laughed.
A knot formed in her stomach and she realized she felt left out. Which was ridiculous. She could learn Catalan, too, even if it wasn’t intricately woven into her DNA.
“Today I’ll take Nicky for a tour of the town while you work on your books.” Vasco took another bite of melon. It was a declaration rather than a suggestion.
She tensed. “He might get anxious being away from me.”
“Don’t worry. If he fusses I’ll bring him right back.” He stroked Nicky’s tiny chin with his thumb and spooned in a mouthful of Nicky’s favorite oatmeal that one of the staff had magically appear
ed with. “And we’ll come play with your books.”
“Great. Bring some crayons. Nicky can decorate you with gold leaf.”
“I like that idea. This shirt is a bit dull.” He glanced down at his well-cut black shirt. “But we’ll let you get some work done first.”
Why did she trust him completely with Nicky? She wanted to be nervous, or suspicious, but it was hard. She knew that most of the reservations she had concerned herself, not Nicky.
And if this morning’s kiss was anything to go by, last night was not a one-night stand.
A week later, little had changed. Nicky was now babbling complete nursery rhymes in Catalan. Stella had plenty of time to lose herself in the demanding but exhilarating world of the ancient library. And she’d slept with Vasco every night.
They always slept in the same room. She’d asked again whose room it was, and he always replied that it was “theirs.” Vasco was never there when she awoke. Her feelings on this had developed from surprise into disappointment, but she didn’t like to whine about it. They’d only been involved for one week, so she was hardly in a position to ask him to adjust his lifestyle to her needs. Or maybe she didn’t want to make waves when she enjoyed their time together so much. Now at least she knew the way back to her room.
During the day Vasco was flirtatious and affectionate, treating her like his lover, regardless of who was around. They’d even strolled through the town with Nicky twice, as if they were a real family.
Stella’s ears burned all the time. She could imagine the gossip that must result when the nation’s dashing young king showed up with a woman and child and no wedding ring in sight. The “aunts” said nothing, just smiled sweetly and doted over Nicky. The staff members were polite and somewhat deferent, treating her as a guest rather than one of themselves, though theoretically at least she was there to do a job.
And there was no discussion about the future. Vasco seemed to operate under the assumption that she and Nicky were there for good, and since it was too early to decide whether they were or not, she didn’t ask any pointed questions. Most of the time they were together they were either within earshot of the staff, at dinner for example, or in bed. Neither was the ideal place for a “state of the state” conversation.
The moment Vasco kissed her, all practical concerns melted away and she floated on a cloud of bliss that could be temporary or eternal, her mind and body didn’t seem to care. The palace was like a little country in its own right and—busy with Nicky and Vasco and the library—she almost forgot about the rest of the world chugging along all around them.
So it was a rude awakening when a former work colleague in L.A. sent her an abrupt email with the heading “OMG Stella—this you?” and a link to CelebCrush magazine’s website. Stella clicked the link wondering if she had a job lead. She and the sender had been out for lunch a few times and she knew Elaine, an archivist, had found a new position at the Getty Museum.
The link took her to a headline blaring “Royal Romance?” The tone of the article was breathless. “Dashing King of Montmajor Vasco Montoya has been spotted out on the town with a mysterious American—and her young child. Rumors are buzzing that he’s the dad. Royal mistress, or future wife?” Stella blinked. There was a large picture of her and Vasco, each of them holding one of Nicky’s hands, as they walked past a fruit stall in the main square of the town. She was staring at Vasco with a goofy grin on her face, while he looked boldly ahead, all windswept good looks and photogenic charm.
There wasn’t any more to the story. Apparently that’s what passed for journalism at CelebCrush magazine. Not that there was much more to the story in real life.
Her heart pounded beneath her neat yellow blouse as she sat in the library in full view of the elderly caretaker who dusted the volumes daily. Who else might see this? She was tempted to email back, “Nope, not me!” but she couldn’t.
Royal mistress or future wife? Cringeworthy. What if Vasco saw this? She clicked away from the page and back to her Yahoo! homepage. At least she’d never heard of this magazine. A little research told her it was based out of Luxembourg, and for all she knew had a circulation of about twenty-five. Still, the fact that Elaine had stumbled across the website out in California was a bit alarming, since she hadn’t mentioned Vasco to anyone except her best friend, Karen. She’d told other friends and neighbors she was taking Nicky to Europe for a vacation.
She typed back the words “Out of office autoreply— Stella is busy sleeping with a European monarch, and will attend to your email as soon as possible. Until then, please mind your own business.” She wanted to laugh hysterically. Or cry. Then she deleted it all except the first phrase, wrote a more prosaic version and sent it out right away. That at least would keep Elaine from asking for more details.
She slammed the laptop and hurried from the library, unable to sit still, let alone do delicate restoration work. Maybe it was time to ask Vasco where this whole thing was going. It might be nice to know the answer for when a reporter thrust a microphone in her face.
At least she wasn’t likely to be pregnant. He’d used condoms on all the subsequent trysts so she probably just hadn’t noticed him rolling it deftly on in the excitement of their first encounter.
“Stella.” Vasco’s voice behind her stopped her in her tracks. “Where are you rushing?” He walked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. Her belly shuddered with awareness. “To find me, I hope.” His deep voice curled into her ear. It was hard to think straight and be practical around Vasco.
“Can we talk about something?” She drew in a breath, trying to steady her nerves.
“We can talk about anything. Astrophysics, the Holy Grail, the works of J.D. Salinger, what to eat for lunch…” He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and she felt her knees turn to jelly.
“Let’s go somewhere private.”
“An excellent idea. Let’s go to our room.”
“No, somewhere without a bed.” She couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her mouth even as she spun around to extricate herself from his embrace.
“Tired of beds?” A piratical grin lit his features. “Then we’ll head outside. Follow me.” He hooked his arm through hers and marched her along the corridor. They exited the palace through a side door and headed down a long, curving flight of stairs onto the hillside below the castle walls.
Grassy hills dotted with sheep and cattle unfurled around them like a rumpled blanket. “Where are we going?” She was glad she wore ballet flats, not heels, as they set out on a narrow track.
“Nowhere.” Vasco marched ahead, holding her hand. “Which is one of my favorite places.”
“Oh.” Now would be a good time for discussion. Nicky was with two of the “aunts” and almost due for his nap, so he wouldn’t miss her if she was gone for a while. She cleared her throat. “I’m a little confused about my status here.”
“Really? Right now I’d say you’re walking.” He flashed that pearly grin before turning around to stride ahead again.
“Very funny. I mean the status of me and you.”
“Intimate, definitely.” He squeezed her hand.
“I know that, but am I…” How did you put this stuff without sounding like a middle schooler? “…your girlfriend?”
“Most definitely.”
“Oh.” Relief filled her chest. So they were dating. That was something she could understand.
“And much more than that. You’re the mother of my child. We’re a family.” His dark gaze was meaningful, serious.
The complicated part again. Vasco seemed to assume that Nicky tied them together permanently, no matter what else happened. Which he did, of course, but did that mean they were going to get married?
On less than a month’s acquaintance she wasn’t brave enough to ask that. Did she even want to marry him and abandon her freewheeling single life?
Yes, of course she did. Her heart sank as she realized how much she’d fallen in love with him in such a short t
ime. He’d swept her right off her sensible shoes and deposited her here in his fairy kingdom, where he spent hours seducing her to shocking new heights and depths of sensual pleasure. Montmajor was a peaceful and lovely place, with seemingly no poverty or social unrest, and was less than two hours by plane to nearly every capital in Europe. And then there was a lifetime of satisfying work—probably several lifetimes, in fact—restoring all those magnificent books.
But did Vasco intend to make her his queen, or was the “royal mistress” scenario more realistic?
In her heart, she knew the answer. “Why don’t we sleep in my room or your room? Why the round chamber?”
“That’s a special place just for us.”
“But my bedroom is lovely, and I wouldn’t need anyone to listen for Nicky overnight if we were right next door.”
“You might get tired of finding me in your bed.”
Or you might get tired of me. “Why do you always leave in the night?” She’d never dared to ask before.
Vasco squeezed her hand again, still walking. “I do business in Asia, and that’s the best time to make phone calls. I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”
She frowned. It was a good reason, but not entirely convincing. “I can sleep through anything, you really don’t need to leave.”
“It’s easier if I’m in my office.” He picked up the pace a bit as they climbed a small hill, and she had to struggle to keep up. “It’s all quite tiresome.”
“If it was tiresome, you wouldn’t do it. I know you too well already.”
He laughed. “Okay, I enjoy my businesses. I can’t just sit around on the throne all day gassing with the citizens. I need new challenges.”
That’s what worries me.
The round room with all its windows was their room—which he could leave at any time to take up in a different room with someone else.
Claiming His Royal Heir Page 8
