by Holly Jacobs
“There are facets that provide me with a sense of accomplishment and a great deal of gratification. There are others that are hard to bear, the restriction on my freedom is one of them.” He paused and seemed to weigh her question. “On the whole, yes, I’m happy. Could I be happier?” He looked directly at her. “Yes.”
Cara’s breath caught for a moment with the intensity of Michael’s gaze. When he finally blinked, she felt herself pulled back into focus and pressed. “But if you had a choice, would you choose this life?”
“Unlike Parker, I don’t have a choice. This is the life I was born into. I have a duty to my country, one I wouldn’t set aside even if I could.”
“Duty,” Cara echoed.
“My son always does his duty,” the queen assured Cara. “No matter how he feels about it.”
Cara wondered what Michael would feel his duty to the baby was—what his duty to her would be. She wasn’t sure, but she was positive she’d never want to be seen as anyone’s duty.
That night, dinner was a quiet, family affair. The king, the queen, Michael and an older gentleman Cara had yet to meet.
“Cara, dear,” the queen said as she entered the dining room. “I’d like to introduce you to one of our dearest friends, Ambassador Bartholemew McClinnon.”
The ambassador stood and held the chair next to him out for her. “Actually, I was the ambassador. Now, I’m just an occasional visitor who’s looking for a free bed, and some fishing.”
She could hear a touch of a southern accent in his voice. “You’re from the States?”
“Born and bred. I understand you’re one of Parker’s friends. A partner in Monarch’s and Titles?” He chuckled. “I love the names.”
“My sister always was a bit warped,” Michael said.
Cara didn’t leap to Parker’s defense. She didn’t even look in Michael’s direction. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could forget he was across the table from her.
But as the dinner went on, it became apparent that Michael was indeed unforgettable. His presence was palpable, even as she conversed with the ambassador.
She learned that the ambassador had come to Eliason years ago. She also learned a lot about fishing. It might have been more than she needed to know, but listening to the men’s fish stories, she couldn’t seem to mind.
“…And then there was this time I went shark fishing,” Michael said. “You should have seen the one I caught. I swear, it made Jaws look like a guppy.”
Cara couldn’t remain aloof, as much as she might want to. She laughed right along with everyone else.
Michael wore a mock-insulted look, but continued on. “Really. The beast was huge. Practically capsized the boat as I tried to reel it in.”
“You know,” said the ambassador, “I’ve heard my share of fish stories—mainly from your father—”
“I do not exaggerate my skills,” the king assured them all. “I don’t need to. Having fished with both of you, I assure you, I don’t worry about who is the most accomplished fisherman. There’s no contest.”
As the three men quibbled over their fishing abilities, Cara couldn’t help but study Michael. Something warm coursed through her body.
Watching him joke with his family, listening to his laughter. The feeling spread.
It wasn’t the hot spear of desire she’d felt when she’d first met him.
It was something else. Something more.
A feeling she wasn’t prepared to explore.
A feeling she was going to do her best to put aside.
“So how are you getting along with my brother?” Parker asked a week and a half after Cara had arrived in Eliason. “He’s the best, isn’t he?”
Cara held the phone to her ear, silent for a moment as she tried to think of a diplomatic answer.
“Uh, he seems nice enough,” she finally said. “I mean, I’ve barely spent any time with him. Like I said, your mother and I jumped right into the wedding plans. She’s great,” she added, no hedging this time.
Cara already loved Parker’s mom. The queen, a former Erie resident, had a warm, easygoing nature.
Cara would have loved nothing more than to ask the older woman for advice, but she couldn’t. Parker’s mom would be her baby’s grandmother.
And Parker would be the baby’s aunt.
And Cara still hadn’t told a soul other than Tommy.
Things were far too complicated. But after ten days, she was no closer to figuring out what she should do.
Cara wanted to tell her friend so much, but she knew when the announcement was made attention would shift to her, especially now that she knew Michael was the baby’s father.
She wouldn’t take anything away from Shey’s and Parker’s weddings, so she wouldn’t say anything for a while yet. There was still time.
“Cara, honey, are you there?” Parker asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just tired. Must be jet lag. You’d think that ten days here would have acclimated me though.”
A week and a half. Ten days of making plans and trying to avoid Michael.
Unfortunately, Michael seemed bound and determined to be as unavoidable as possible. He attended every family meal. Even his mother commented on what a rarity that was. She used his parents and whatever guests they had as buffers. The ambassador had become a special favorite.
But it wasn’t just meals. Michael carpooled with them into St. Mark’s as often as possible. He dropped into his mother’s office to help with the wedding plans.
It seemed wherever Cara was, Michael wasn’t far behind.
The queen had been right when she said Cara would learn to navigate the castle soon. Actually, Cara had memorized the layout within days, asking servants about shortcuts and little-known routes. Taking small back corridors in order to try to avoid Michael, aka her personal stalker-wannabe, had become a part of her daily routine.
“Or this tiredness,” Parker said, “could be related to the whole fainting thing in the airport.”
“How did you—” she started to ask, then cut herself off. “Michael.”
She shouldn’t be surprised. He’d tattled to his parents the day she arrived, so it made sense that he’d call Parker and rat her out with his sister as well.
Or maybe she should be surprised that it had taken him a week and a half to tell Parker.
She’d have thought he’d have done it sooner. He seemed convinced there was some big secret Cara was keeping from him. She’d like to be annoyed, outraged even, but the fact that he was right made it tough.
“Your brother exaggerates. It was just jet lag,” Cara reassured Parker.
“Honey, I’ve flown all over the world and never fainted because of jet lag. I talked to Shey and we both had noted that you seemed a bit tired before you left. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Cara said, more guilt hitting her like a brick. She’d never kept secrets from her friends. But this once she didn’t have a choice. She had to figure things out in her own mind before other people found out.
“You’re imagining things,” she continued. “I swear I haven’t fainted again. That first day at the airport was just a fluke. I’m fine.”
“I don’t think so,” Parker said softly. “I mean, if it was just me, maybe. But Shey noticed as well. We both feel guilty that we were so wrapped up with Jace and Tanner we didn’t push you for answers when you were here.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I made it to Eliason just fine. I’m having the time of my life. I love your parents. The wedding plans are coming right along. That’s your update. Everything’s just fine.”
“I wish you’d talk to me,” Parker said wistfully. “We’re worried about you.”
“I’m a big girl, Parker. I can handle myself.”
Sometimes her friends forgot that. Cara knew she was quiet, she didn’t like a fuss. Parker and Shey had always taken her under their wings.
This time she had to fly solo. She had to figure out what to do on her own.
“If
you want to talk, I’m a phone call away,” Parker reminded.
“I know. How’s the store?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
While she was gone, Parker was taking over the duties at Titles. Shey had Monarch’s covered. They were both training new help so that both stores would be attended to while they were all in Eliason for the wedding.
“I hope I don’t mess things up here—I usually work more in the coffee shop.”
“You’re doing fine,” Cara assured her. “But don’t forget, I have that big shipment in on Thursdays. Remember to check the dates. Some of the books can’t be shelved until—”
“Until specific dates. I know. The store’s fine.” She paused a moment and added, “I wish I was sure you were.”
“I am absolutely perfect. I’m having a blast planning a wedding for my two best friends. But now I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you in a day or two.”
“Okay,” Parker said, not sounding convinced at all about the perfectness of Cara’s life. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
Cara hung up and sat, staring at nothing in particular. Her mind chased itself round and round, trying to decide what to do.
Her hand slipped to her stomach. It felt a bit rounder today she thought. She stopped. What was that?
It was just the slightest flutter.
The baby?
There it was again.
Emotions welled up in her chest. Love. Longing. Excitement. Terror.
They bubbled over each other, mixing up and overflowing. Cara didn’t know what to do with the jumbled mess and finally gave in to the tears that were filling her eyes. She started to cry.
Her baby. It was moving inside her, almost as if it knew she needed comfort and wanted to remind her that no matter what was going on, she had someone who belonged to her, someone she could love with no hesitation.
Her baby.
She lay down and waited until it moved again. It was amazing. A miracle. She wished she could tell someone.
Not just someone.
Michael.
She wanted to run to him and tell him their baby had moved.
This little person they had made on that one night of passion they’d shared.
Cara had never done anything like what she’d done with Michael.
A one-night stand.
It was foolish. Out of character. Utterly stupid. But she couldn’t regret that their one night together had produced something so special.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I swear, I’ll do what’s best for you. I’d give you the world if I could,” she whispered.
She knew she couldn’t give the baby the world, but she could give it a family.
A father.
For the last three months she’d planned on raising this child alone, and now she’d found its father. How on earth was she going to tell Michael? What would his reaction be?
She knew that as the heir to the throne, having an illegitimate child would be difficult.
Beyond difficult.
Impossible.
Maybe they could tell people Michael was the baby’s godfather, as a way of explaining why he spent time with her child. A benevolent godfather.
It would be good for his image, would allow him to bond with his child, and would keep the baby from becoming fodder for the paparazzi.
Of course, everyone would have questions about the baby’s father. She was trying to come up with an explanation when there was a knock on her door.
She wished she could ignore it and just sit here reveling in the fact that her baby moved. But whoever it was knocked again.
“Coming,” she said, getting off the bed and walking reluctantly toward the door.
She opened it. Oh, no. “Your Highness. What did you want?”
Michael didn’t wait for an invitation. He simply walked past her and right into the room.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He flopped—flopped in a very unprincely fashion—into a chair. Cara was pretty sure Miss Manners would say that even a prince should wait to be invited before making himself comfortable in a lady’s bedroom.
“Make yourself at home,” she said with more than a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
Shey would be so proud. She’d been trying to teach Cara the fine art of sarcasm since they started college. With that little comment, Cara thought she’d finally begun to make progress. Okay, so it had only taken eight years, but it was finally a step forward.
Michael surveyed the room. “I take it you’ve settled in?”
Cara quickly scanned the room. Nothing was out of place, all her belongings were carefully stored. “It appears I have. I congratulate you on stating the obvious.”
He ignored her second attempt at sarcasm, though she thought it was a pretty good jab.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said instead.
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that, sarcastic or otherwise. She settled for saying, “I see you every night at dinner. And when you tag along on outings, or help your mother and me with plans.”
“Surrounded by my family and assorted friends. That’s not what I had in mind.”
If Michael wasn’t a prince and she’d found him, discovered he’d been looking for her, she might be able to think of something to say, but he was a prince, and she wasn’t capable of thinking of anything, so it seemed to her that saying nothing was better.
“Have you thought about me?” he asked softly. “About that night?”
Every day, she thought, but she said, “Sorry. No.”
“I’ve thought of you almost every waking hour. And since I haven’t slept well since that night we shared, there have been more waking hours than normal. The few hours I do manage to sleep, I dream of you. Trying to find you consumed me. And now that I have found you—”
“To be honest, you didn’t find me.”
“Now that I know where you are,” he corrected, “it hasn’t gotten any better. I still can’t sleep. Knowing you’re so close, but still so far away. Too far away.”
“You know most men would be embarrassed to admit a one-night stand stayed on their mind beyond that one night.”
“I’m not most men,” he told her, no bragging, no apologies.
“You can say that again,” she muttered.
Not quite sarcasm, but a good try nonetheless. But she knew he was right…. There was nothing ordinary about Michael. Even before she’d known he was a prince, she’d known that.
“I gave you time to get settled. I didn’t want to cause you any more stress. Especially since I’m not wholly convinced you’re okay. But now that you’ve settled in, maybe you’d consider having dinner with me tomorrow night? We could talk and—”
“Listen, Michael—Your Highness—I’m here to do a job. As soon as that job’s done, I’m leaving. There will be no replays of what happened three months ago, no passionate reunion. That night wasn’t me. I don’t do things like that. The truth of the matter is, I was lonely. My two friends had fallen in love, and I’d watched it happen. I was happy for them, but I felt so utterly alone. The odd man out. Looking back, it was silly. Shey and Parker may have found their soul mates, but they’re still my best friends, still there for me. But that night, I was adrift, wishing for my own soul mate.”
“And you found me.” He looked far too pleased at the thought.
“Yes, I found you. But Michael, it could have been anybody.” She realized, even as she said the words, that they were a lie. There was something about Michael that even now, when she knew better, called to her.
“Listen,” she continued, “for those few precious hours we spent together I allowed myself to believe you were something you weren’t, that we had something we can never have.”
“Why? Why can’t we have the kind of love that your friends have found?” he asked.
“You’re a prince, and I’m…I’m just me. Cara Phillips. Reserved, boo
kish. Ordinary. Let’s just leave that one night in the past, a beautiful dream. Because that’s all it was, a dream. Insubstantial. Unable to hold its form in the bright light of day.”
Michael looked as if he were going to argue, but then stopped himself. He stood and said, “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”
“I’m sure we’ll talk, Your Highness. But it will be social talk. No mention of that night. I’ve said all that needs to be said.”
Except she hadn’t told him about the baby.
She tried to say the words, but they wouldn’t come. How did you tell a man he was going to be a father.
Michael, about that night…oops.
No, she was sure that wouldn’t work, but wasn’t sure what would.
Later.
She’d tell him later. After the wedding. For now, she needed more time to think through the ramifications of carrying the child of a prince.
She stood and opened the door.
Michael didn’t oblige. As a matter of fact, he stood there, giving her a look that made her feel decidedly uncomfortable.
It made her feel naked. Not in an undressed sort of way, but rather in a he-could-see-into-her-very-soul sort of way.
The studious look was suddenly replaced by another. A hungry sort of look.
“Stop that,” she said, wanting to give him a small push out the door, but hesitant to actually touch him. The memories of all their touches that night still haunted her. She wasn’t sure she could even afford a small, casual touch.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Giving me a big-bad-wolf-about-to-eat-Red-Riding-Hood sort of look.”
“What sort of look?” he asked, chuckling.
Seeing amusement in his eyes was definitely an improvement over the other two looks. Yes, humor was better than studious or hungry.
“Okay,” she said, unable to resist a small smile. “So maybe I’ve read at too many story times for the eight-and-under crowd. My analogies could use some work.”
“I liked your analogy just fine. As a matter of fact, come here, Red Riding Hood and let me show you my big, bad…”
He let the sentence trail off and that hungry look was back. Cara felt especially Red-Riding-Hoodish. Knowing she should run and escape, but wondering just what this particular wolf was about to do.
