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Royals: For Their Royal Heir: An Heir Fit for a King / The Pregnant Princess / The Prince's Secret Baby (Mills & Boon M&B)

Page 38

by Abby Green


  Trev was an outgoing child, although he was usually pretty reserved around new people. It took him a while to get comfortable with someone. But apparently, with Rule, he was over his shyness after those first few moments at the breakfast table.

  Trev chattered away at him as they strolled past the pretty, gracious homes and the wide, inviting lawns. “I walk fast, Roo. I strong! I happy!”

  Rule agreed that he was very fast, and so strong—and wasn’t it great that he was happy? “I’m happy, too,” Rule said, and shared a speaking glance with Sydney.

  Trev looked up at them, at Rule, then at Sydney, then back at Rule again. “Mama’s happy, too!” he crowed. “Knock, knock!”

  “Who’s there?” asked Rule. And then he went through the endless loop of the joke two more times.

  They stayed at the park for three hours. Sydney watched for a sign that Rule might be getting tired of pushing Trev on the swings, of sitting with him on the spinner, of playing seesaw—Trev and Sydney on one end, Rule on the other.

  But Rule seemed to love every minute of it. He got down and crawled through the concrete tunnels with Trev, heedless of his designer trousers, laughing as Trev scuttled ahead of him calling out, “You can’t catch me, I too fast!” Trev popped out of the tunnel.

  Rule was right behind him. Rule growled, playing it scary. Trev let out a shriek of fear and delight.

  Finally, at a little after eleven, Trev announced, “Okay. All done.” And he was. All the fun had worn him out.

  The walk back to the house took a little longer than the stroll over there. When Trevor was tired, he dragged his feet and kept trying to sit down instead of moving forward.

  But they got him there, eventually. Lani took over, hustling him to the bathroom to change him out of the diaper she’d put on him for the park and back into the lighter-weight training pants he wore most of the time now.

  Alone with Rule for the first time since their kiss at the front door, Sydney said, “You were wonderful with him.”

  His gaze held hers. She did love the way he looked at her—as though he couldn’t get enough of just staring into her eyes. He said, “It wasn’t difficult, not in the least. I enjoyed every minute of it.” And then he added in that charming, formal way of his, “Thank you for inviting me, Sydney.”

  “It was my pleasure—and clearly, Trev’s, too. Had enough?”

  He frowned. “Are you saying you would like for me to go now?”

  She laughed. “No way. I’m just giving you an out, in case you’ve had enough of crashing trucks and knock-knock jokes for one day.”

  “I want to stay, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Now her heart was doing cartwheels. “Not in the least.”

  Yes, all right. Maybe she should be more cautious. Put the brakes on a little. But she didn’t want to put the brakes on. She was having a great time and if he didn’t want to go, well, why should she feel she should send him away?

  He could stay for lunch if he wanted, stay for dinner. Stay … indefinitely. That would be just fine with her. Every moment she was with him only convinced her that she wanted the next moment with him. And the one after that. Something about him had her throwing all her usual caution to the winds.

  Was she in for a rude awakening? She just didn’t think so. Every moment she was with Rule only made her more certain that he was the real deal: a great guy who liked her—a lot. A great guy who liked children, too, a guy who actually enjoyed spending the morning playing in the park with her and her little boy.

  As long as he gave her no reason to doubt her confidence in him, well, she wouldn’t doubt him. It was as simple as that.

  He said, “Perhaps we could take Trevor and Lani to lunch?”

  “I wish. But no. Trev’s going to need to eat right away, and since he’s been on the go since early this morning, he’s probably going to be fussy. So we’ll get some food down him and then put him to bed. His nap will last at least a couple of hours. You sure you won’t mind just hanging around here for the afternoon?”

  “There’s nothing I would rather do than hang around here with you and your son.” He said it so matter-of-factly, and she knew he was sincere.

  “I’m glad.” They shared a nod of perfect understanding.

  As Sydney had predicted, Trev was cranky during lunch, but he did pack away a big bowl of chicken and rice. He went right to sleep when Sydney put him in bed.

  Then she and Rule raided the refrigerator and carried their lunch of cheese, crackers and grapes out to the backyard. They sat under an oak not far from the pool and he told her more about his family, about how his older brother Max’s wife had tragically drowned in a water-skiing accident two years before, leaving Max with a broken heart and two little children to raise on his own.

  “They were so happy together, Max and Sophia,” Rule said, his eyes full of shadows right then. “They found each other very young, and knew they would marry when they were both hardly more than children. It’s been terrible for him, learning to live without her.”

  “I can’t even imagine how that must be for him. I’ve always envied people who find true love early and only want a chance to have a family, to grow old side by side. It’s just completely wrong that your brother and his wife didn’t get a whole lifetime of happiness together.”

  They were sitting in a pair of cushioned chaises, the platter of cheese and fruit on the low teak table between them. He held out his hand to her. She took it without hesitation and let him pull her over to his chaise.

  He wrapped an arm around her, using his other hand to tip her chin up. They shared a slow, sweet kiss. And then he spoke against her softly parted lips. “I love the taste of your lips, the feel of your body pressed close to mine….”

  She reached up, touched the silky black hair at his temple. A miracle, to be here with him, like this. To be free to touch him at will, to be the one he wanted to touch. “Oh, Rule. What’s happening with us?”

  He kissed her again, a possessive kiss, hard and quick. “You don’t know?”

  “I … think I do. But I’ve waited so long to meet someone like you. It almost seems too good to be true.”

  “You’re trembling.” He held her closer.

  She laughed, a torn little sound. “Not so prickly now, huh?”

  “Come here, relax …” He stretched out in the chaise and pulled her with him, so she lay facing him, tucked against his side, his big arms around her, his cheek touching her hair. A lovely breeze came up, stirring the warm afternoon air, making it feel cool and comfortable beneath the oak tree. “Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. I’m only grateful that I’ve found you, at last.”

  “So, then,” she teased, “you lied yesterday when you said you weren’t looking for me.”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  She took a moment, pretended to think it over and finally whispered, “I’ll try.”

  “Good. Because I’ve been looking for you all my life. And now that I have you in my arms, I never want to let you go.”

  “I want to be with you, too.” She laid her hand against his chest, felt the steady, strong beating of his heart. “And I’m not afraid,” she added. And then she sighed. “Well, okay. That’s not so. I am afraid—at least a little.”

  “Because of those fools Ryan and Peter?”

  She nodded. “I haven’t had good luck with men.”

  He kissed her hair. “Maybe not.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Until now,” he corrected her.

  She tipped her head back and met those shining dark eyes and … well, she believed him. She honestly did. “Until now,” she repeated, softly, but firmly, too.

  “Come out with me tonight. Let me come for you. We’ll have dinner, go dancing.”

  It was Lani’s night out. But Sydney had more than one sitter she could call. “I would love to.”

  Trev woke at a little before three, completely refreshed and ready to play some m
ore.

  Rule was only too happy to oblige him. Together, they built a wobbly Duplo castle—which Trev took great delight in toppling to the floor the moment it was finished. Then the three of them took the red ball outside to Trev’s fenced play area and rolled the ball around. Finally, inside again, Rule and Trev played more trucks until Lani announced it was time for Trev’s dinner.

  The man amazed Sydney. He seemed completely content to spend hours entertaining her toddler. He honestly did seem to love children and Sydney couldn’t help thinking that he would make a wonderful father.

  Rule called his driver at five-twenty-five.

  “Bye, Roo. Come back. See me soon!” Trev called, pausing to wave as Lani herded him toward the stairs for his bath.

  “Goodbye Trevor.”

  “We play trucks!” Trev started up the stairs in his usual way, using both hands and feet.

  “Yes.” Rule nodded, watching his progress upward. “Trucks. Absolutely.”

  Trev turned to Lani and started his knock-knock joke as he and Lani disappeared on the upper landing. The moment they were out of sight, Sydney moved into Rule’s open arms.

  They shared a kiss and then he took her hand and brushed his lips across the back of it. “Your son is amazing. So smart. Just like his mom.”

  She answered playfully, “And don’t forget strong. Trev is very strong. Just ask him.”

  “Yes, I remember. Very strong and very loud when he wants to be—and I’m honored that you shared the story of his birth so honestly with me. And that you’ve trusted me enough to tell me about those idiots Ryan and Peter.”

  “I think it’s better,” she said, “to be honest and forthright.”

  “So do I.” Something happened in his eyes—a shadow of something. Uneasiness? Concern?

  Her pulse beat faster. “Rule. What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “I’m afraid I have a confession to make.”

  Now her pulse was racing dizzyingly fast. And she felt sick, her stomach churning. So, then. He really was too good to be true. “Tell me,” she said softly, but not gently. She couldn’t hide the thread of steel that connected the two simple words.

  “Remember how I told you I admired my mother?”

  She wasn’t getting it. “This confession is about your mother?”

  He touched her cheek, a light touch that made her heart ache. She really liked him. So very much. And now she just knew it was all going wrong. He said, “No, it’s not about my mother. Not essentially.”

  “What do you mean? It is, or it isn’t.”

  “Sydney, I admire my mother for any number of reasons. And I revere her as the ruler of my country.”

  She was sure she must have misunderstood him. “Excuse me? Your mother rules your country?”

  “My mother is Adrienne II, Sovereign Princess of Montedoro. And my father is His Serene Highness Evan, Prince Consort of Montedoro.”

  “Okay. You’ll have to say that again. I’m sure I misunderstood. Sovereign Princess, you said?”

  “Yes. My mother holds the throne. My father is Prince Consort and my brother Maximilian is the heir apparent. Before Max had his son and daughter, I was second in line to the throne.”

  Chapter Four

  Sydney gaped up at him. “A prince. You’re telling me that you’re a prince? And not just as in, ‘a prince of a guy,’ but a real prince? A … royal prince?”

  He chuckled. “My darling, yes. That is, more or less, what I’m telling you.”

  “Um. More or less?”

  “The truth is that Montedoro is ruled by a prince, not a king. And, in terms of his or her title, a ruling prince is said to have a throne, but not a crown. And only those who are the children or grandchildren of ruling kings or queens, or are the spouses of royalty, are given the honorific of royal. However, in the sense that ‘royal’ means ‘ruling,’ yes. I am of the royal family of Montedoro, or more correctly, the princely family. And even though we are not addressed as royal, both our family coat of arms and our individual monograms contain the image of a crown.”

  She was still gaping. “I don’t think I understood a word you just said.”

  He frowned. “I see your point. Perhaps that was more information than you require at the moment.”

  A prince. A prince of Montedoro. Should she have known this? “Wait. Evan Bravo. I remember now. Your dad was in the movies, right?”

  He nodded. “It was a big story in all the newspapers and tabloids of the day. My mother married a film actor and he returned with her to Montedoro, where they had many children and lived happily ever after.” He gave a wry smile. “Sydney, you look pale. Would you like to sit down?”

  “No. No, really. I’m fine. Just fine.”

  “Perhaps you would like to see my diplomatic passport….”

  “Ohmigod. No. Really. I believe you. I do.” Still, she couldn’t help looking around nervously, half expecting Ashton Kutcher and the Punk’d camera crew to be making their appearance any second now. She turned her gaze up to him again and tried to look stern. “You should have told me.”

  “I know.” He did seem honestly contrite. “But the moment never seemed right. I wanted you to know me, at least a little, before we got into all of that.”

  “Last night. At the Mansion. The nervous host …”

  “Yes. I’m staying there. He knows who I am.” He took her chin, tipped it up to him. “But none of that matters.”

  “Rule. Of course it matters.”

  “Only if you let it. To me, what matters most of all, more than anything, is this …” And he lowered his dark head and claimed her lips.

  And by the time that kiss was through, she was inclined to agree with him. “Oh, Rule …” She clung to him, feeling light-headed and slightly weak in the knees.

  “I’ll leave you now,” he said ruefully, stroking her hair, his eyes full of tenderness and understanding. She thought how crazy she was for him—and how she would look him up on Google the minute he was out the door. One side of his mouth curled up in the gorgeous half smile that totally enchanted her. He said, “You’ll have time to look me up on the internet before I come to collect you for the evening.”

  She shook her head. “You know me too well. How is that possible? We only met yesterday.”

  “Forgive me. For taking so long to tell you …”

  “I’ll consider forgiving you as soon as my head stops spinning.”

  “One last kiss …”

  She gave it. She simply could not resist him—and beyond that, she didn’t want to resist him.

  When he lifted his head that time, he released her. She opened the door and watched him jog down the front walk to his waiting limousine.

  As soon as the long, black car disappeared from sight, she shut the front door and went upstairs to get with Lani about her plans for the evening.

  She found her friend on her knees filling the tub. Trev sat on the bathroom floor in his training pants, putting a new face on his Mr. Potato Head.

  “Lani …”

  “Hmm?” Lani tested the water, turned the hot water tap up a little.

  “Just wondering if you were going out tonight?”

  “Nope, I’m staying in. And yes, I’d be happy to watch Trev.”

  “Wonderful.” So that was settled.

  “Mama, see?” Trev held up Mr. Potato Head, whose big, red lips were now above his moustache and who had only one eye in the middle of his forehead. She bent down and kissed him. He asked, “Mama read a story?”

  “After your bath, I promise.”

  “O-kay!” He removed Mr. Potato Head’s red hat and reached for a blue plastic ear.

  Sydney kissed him again and then ran back downstairs to her office off the foyer. She kept a PC in there and she figured she had maybe twenty minutes before Trev finished his bath and would come looking for her.

  Sydney was good at research, and she knew how to get a lot of information quickly. By the time Trev came bouncing down the stairs and
demanded her attention again, she intended to know a whole lot more about Rule.

  She found pages and pages of references to the courtship and marriage of Rule’s father and mother.

  Evan Bravo was born in San Antonio, second of seven sons, to James and Elizabeth Bravo. Several sources cited early estrangement from his overbearing father. Determined to make his mark in Hollywood, Evan Bravo moved West at the age of eighteen. Talent and luck were on his side. He was never a big star, but at twenty-five, he won a Golden Globe and a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his portrayal of a charming but crooked L.A. detective in a big-budget box office hit called L.A. Undercover. Then he met Princess Adrienne of Montedoro. There ensued a whirlwind courtship, a fabulous palace wedding—and celebrating in the streets of the whole of Montedoro when their first child, Maximilian, was born. Princess Adrienne, as the last of her line, was expected to provide her country with an heir and a spare and then some. She did exactly that, bearing eight more children in the succeeding eleven years.

  Sydney read the story of the tragic death of Maximilian’s wife, Sophia—drowning while water-skiing, just as Rule had already told her. Also, she learned that third-born Alexander had been captured by terrorists in Afghanistan and held prisoner for four years, until somehow engineering a miraculous and daring escape only a few months ago.

  Prince Rule, she learned, had obtained his degree in America, from Princeton. He was the businessman of the family, the glamorous bachelor, big in international trade, and was known to champion and generously contribute to several worthy causes. Over the years, his name had been linked with any number of gorgeous models and actresses, but those relationships had never seemed to last very long. Some sources claimed that he was “expected” to marry his longtime friend from childhood, HRH Liliana, aka Princess Lili, heir presumptive to the throne of the island state of Alagonia. However, no actual announcement of an engagement had so far been made.

  Sydney went looking for images of the princess in question and found several. Liliana of Alagonia was blonde, blue-eyed and as beautiful as a princess in a fairy tale.

 

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