by Abby Green
Sudden apprehension had Sydney catching her lower lip between her teeth and shifting in her swivel chair. Princess Lili, huh? Rule had never mentioned this supposed “childhood friend.” Tonight, she would definitely have a few questions for him.
“Mama, read me books!”
Sydney looked up from the computer to find her little boy and Lani standing in the open doorway to the front hall.
Lani said, “Sorry to interrupt, but he hasn’t forgotten that you said you would read to him.”
“And I will, absolutely.”
Trev, all pink and sweet from his bath, wearing his Captain America pajamas, marched over and tugged on her arm. “Come on, Mama.”
Further research on Princess Liliana would have to wait. Sydney swung him into her arms and carried him upstairs where he’d already picked out the books he wanted her to read to him.
Later, after he was in bed, as she hurried to get ready for the evening, she told Lani that Rule was a Montedoran prince.
“Whoa. And I didn’t even curtsy when you introduced me to him.”
“It’s a little late to worry about protocol.” Sydney leaned close to the mirror as she put on her makeup. “Which is fine with me.”
“What would it be like to marry a prince?” Lani wondered out loud.
“Did I mention marriage? We’ve only just met.”
“But it’s already serious between you two, I can tell. Isn’t it?”
Sydney set down her powder brush and turned to her friend. “Yeah. I think it is—and I may be late coming home tonight.” Unless Rule confessed that he intended to marry the lovely Princess Lili. In that case, she would be coming home early, crying on Lani’s shoulder and swearing off men for the next decade, at least.
“Oh, Syd …” Lani grabbed her and gave her a hug. And then she took Sydney by the shoulders and held her away. “You look wonderful. I love that dress. It brings out the color of your eyes.” Lani sighed. “Enjoy every moment.”
“I will.” Sydney smoothed her hair and tried to banish any thought of pretty Princess Lili from her mind.
Rule arrived in his limousine at eight.
Once on the inside of the tinted-glass windows, Sidney saw there were two men in the front seat: the driver in his dark livery and chauffeur’s cap and also a thick-necked military-looking guy with a crew cut, who had a Bluetooth device in his ear and wore sunglasses even though it was nearly dark.
Sydney leaned close to Rule, drawn to his strength and his warmth and the fine, subtle scent of the aftershave he wore. She whispered, “Don’t tell me. You keep the Secret Service on retainer.”
He gave a shrug. “Effective security is something of a necessity. It’s a sad fact of life in this modern age.”
They went to another really wonderful restaurant, where they were once again ushered into a private room.
She waited until they were served the main course before she brought up the subject that had been bothering her. “So tell me about Princess Liliana of Alagonia.”
He sent her a wry sort of smile. “I see you’ve been checking up on me.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I absolutely knew that you would.”
She told him exactly what she’d learned. “Rumor has it that you and the princess are ‘expected’ to marry.”
He held her gaze. “You should know better than to put your faith in rumors.”
“You’re hedging, Rule.” She sat back in her chair and took a drink from her water goblet.
“Lili’s eight years younger than I am. She’s like one of my little sisters.”
“But she’s not your sister—little or otherwise.”
“All right, enough.” He said it flatly. “I am not going to marry Liliana, Sydney. We are not affianced. I have never proposed marriage to her.”
She took a wild guess. “But she wants to marry you. It’s assumed that you will marry her.”
He didn’t look away. But his eyes were definitely guarded now. “She … looks up to me.”
Did he imagine she would wimp out and leave it at that? Hah. “Just say it. She does want to marry you.”
He sat back in his chair, too. And he looked at her so strangely, so distantly. When he spoke, his voice was cold. “I would not presume to speak for Liliana. She’s a sweet and lovely person. And yes, if I married Lili, it would be considered a brilliant match, one that would strengthen the bonds between our two countries.”
She said sharply, “So, then you should marry her.”
“Not only that.” His eyes were so dark right then, dark and full of secrets, it seemed to her. Suddenly, she was thinking that she didn’t know him at all, that this brief, magical time she’d shared with him had truly been just that: magic, not reality. Nothing more than a beautiful, impossible fantasy. That the truth was coming out now and the fantasy was over.
So soon. Way too soon.
He spoke again. “Do you recall how I told you I had to marry by my thirty-third birthday?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think I was only teasing you?”
“Well, I thought you meant that there was pressure in your family, as there is in a lot of families, for you to settle down, start providing your parents with grandchildren, all that.”
“It’s considerably more than just pressure. It’s the law.”
She looked at him sideways. “Now you really are kidding.”
“On the contrary, I’m completely serious. My country was once a French protectorate. And France … casts a long shadow, as they say. We have signed any number of treaties with France, treaties wherein the French promise to guarantee Montedoro’s sovereignty.”
As a lawyer, she knew what he was getting at. “And the simple fact that another country is in a position to guarantee your sovereignty is … problematic?”
“Precisely. Although my family is officially in charge of succession, the French government must approve the next ruling prince or princess. There is even a stipulation that, should the throne go vacant, Montedoro will revert to a French protectorate. That is why we have a law designed to ensure that no prince will shirk his—or her—obligation to produce potential heirs to the throne. Montedoran princes and princesses are required to marry before their thirty-third birthday or be stripped of all titles and income. I will be thirty-three on June twenty-fourth.”
“Two and a half months from now.”
“Yes,” he said softly.
Sydney was certain of it then. No matter what he’d said a few moments ago, he did intend to marry the lovely Lili. This thing between the two of them was only … what? A last fling before his ingrained sense of duty finally kicked in, before he went back to Montedoro and tied the knot with the pretty blonde princess he’d known since childhood—and then got to work having a bunch of little princes with her.
And why, oh, why, if he just had to have a final fling, couldn’t he have chosen someone else? Sydney was a hard-driving, overworked single mom and the last thing she needed was a whirlwind romance with a man who was planning to marry someone else. Plus, she’d already suffered through more than her share of disappointments when it came to the male gender, thank you very much.
Bottom line? She really did not have time for this crap.
And she wanted desperately to be furious with him. But she wasn’t. The whole situation only made her miserable. She longed to put her face in her hands and burst into tears.
But no—in fact, hell no. She was an O’Shea and an O’Shea was tougher than that. No way was she letting him see her break down and cry. Instead, coolly, she advised, “Don’t you think you’re cutting it a little close?”
“More than a little. And the truth is I have considered asking Liliana to be my wife.”
Surprise, surprise. “So what’s stopped you?”
“No man wants to marry a woman he thinks of as a sister. Not even if she is a fine person, not even to keep his inheritance, not even for the good of his country. And so I’ve hes
itated. I’ve put off making my move.”
“Rule. I have to say it. You need to stop dithering and get with the program.”
That slow smile curved his beautiful mouth. “A prince does not dither.”
“Call it what you want. Looks like dithering to me.”
“If I was dithering, Sydney—and I’m not admitting that I was—I’m not dithering anymore.”
She cast a pained glance toward the ceiling. “Okay. You lost me there.”
“I’m absolutely certain now that Liliana will never be my bride. In one split second, everything changed for me.”
She didn’t get where this was going. She really didn’t. And she told herself firmly that she didn’t care. What mattered was that it was over between them. It had to be, she saw that now. Over and done before it even really got started. “In one split second,” she parroted with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “So … the realization that you’re definitely not marrying dear Princess Lili hit you like a lightning bolt, huh?”
“No.”
“I’m not following you.”
“It’s quite simple. While everything changed for me in an instant, it took a little longer than that for me to accept that marriage to Lili had become impossible.”
“I have no idea what you’re telling me.”
“That happened after lunch yesterday.”
“What happened?”
“You said goodbye and got into your car and drove away. I stood and watched you leave and tried to consider the concept of never seeing you again. And I couldn’t do that. Right then, marrying Lili became impossible.”
“So there was no lightning bolt, after all.”
“Of course there was a lightning bolt. It struck the moment I saw you, striding into Macy’s, indomitable. Unyielding. Ready to take on the world. At that moment, Liliana was the last thing on my mind. Right then, all I could think of was you.”
Sydney reached for her untouched glass of wine and took an extra-large gulp of it. She set the glass down with care. “Well, I …” Her voice had a definite wobble to it. She drew in a slow, steadying breath. “You’re not marrying the princess. You’re sure about that?”
“Yes. Absolutely certain.”
“You mean that? You really mean that?”
“I do, Sydney. With all my heart.”
“Don’t mess with me, Rule.”
“I promise you, I’m not.”
Her throat felt tight, so tight it ached. She gulped to relax it a little. “Okay,” she said softly, at last. “You’re not marrying the princess, after all.”
“I’m so glad we’re finally clear on that.” His voice was gentle, indulgent. “You’ve hardly touched your food. Is it unsatisfactory?”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. Really. Delicious.” She picked up her fork again.
They ate in silence for a while.
Finally, he spoke. “I like you in that emerald-green satin. Almost as much as I like you in red.”
“Thank you.”
“I still want to take you dancing.”
She sipped her wine again, suddenly as certain as he seemed to be. About the two of them. About … everything. Whatever happened in the end, she wanted this night with him. She wanted it so much. She wanted him. “I have a suggestion.”
“And I am always open to suggestion. Especially if the suggestion is coming from you.”
“Take me back to the Mansion, Rule. Take me to your room. We can dance there.”
Chapter Five
His room was one of the two Terrace Suites on the Mansion’s top floor. It was over thirteen hundred square feet of pure luxury.
There was champagne waiting for them in the sitting room—champagne and a crystal bowl full of Montedoran oranges. He took off his jacket and tie and they sat on the sofa, sipping the champagne. She slipped off her shoes as he peeled an orange for her.
“Oh, this so good,” she said, savoring the ruby-red sections, one by one. They tasted like no orange she’d ever had before.
He bent close and kissed her then, a slow kiss that started out light and so tender and deepened until she was slightly breathless—scratch that. More than slightly. A lot more than slightly. “Very sweet,” he said when he lifted his mouth from hers. He wasn’t talking about the orange.
She only gazed at him, her heart beating in a slow, deep, exciting way, her body warm and lazy, her eyelids suddenly heavy.
The sofa was nice and fat and comfortable. She considered stretching out on the cushions, reaching for him as she went down, pulling him with her, so they were stretched out together.
But he set his half-full flute aside and picked up the remote on the coffee table. The large flat screen above a bow-fronted cabinet flared to life. Before she could ask him why he suddenly wanted to watch Lockup, he changed the channel to a music station. A slow romantic song was playing.
“Come.” He offered his hand and they rose together. They went out to the terrace, where the lights of downtown Dallas glittered in the balmy darkness of the April night.
They danced. It was like a dream, a dream come to life, just the two of them, holding each other, swaying to the music, not saying anything.
Not needing to speak.
Then he put a finger under her chin and she looked up into his eyes, into the light shining within that velvet darkness. She tried to remind herself that she still wasn’t sure about the whole love at first sight thing, didn’t really believe that you could meet someone and know instantly that here was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It took time to know another person, time to learn his ways, time to discover if there really was any chance for the relationship in the long-term.
But when Rule looked at her, well, she believed that he believed. And his belief was powerful. His belief made her want to believe, too.
“I see you,” he whispered, and she couldn’t help smiling. He reminded her of Trev again, Trev playing peeka-boo:
I see you, Mama. I see you, I do. “I know,” he said. “It sounds silly when I say it. It sounds self-evident. And not important in the least.”
“I didn’t say that. It was only, for a moment, you reminded me of Trev.”
“Ah.” He searched her eyes some more. “Well, good, then. I’m pleased if I make you think of him. And it is important that I see you. I see in you all that I’ve been looking for, though I didn’t even realize I was looking until yesterday. I see in you the best things, Sydney. The things that matter. I see that with you I can be a better man, and a happier man. I see that you will always interest me. That you will challenge me. I want to … give you everything. I want to spend my life making sure you have it all, whatever makes you happy, whatever your heart desires.”
She searched his astonishingly gorgeous face. “You are tempting me, you know that?”
“I hope so.” He brushed one soft, warm kiss against her lips, a kiss that lingered like a tender brand on her skin even after he had lifted his head to gaze down at her once more. “I want to tempt you, Sydney. Because I’ve never met anyone like you. You amaze me. I want to be with you. I never want to let you go.” He kissed her again, an endless kiss, as they danced. His mouth was so soft, not like the rest of him at all. His mouth was hot and supple and his tongue eased past the trembling barrier of her lips, sliding hot and knowing, over the edges of her teeth, across the top of her tongue, and then beneath it.
She felt … lost. Lost in a lovely, delicious kind of way. She didn’t know where she was going. And Sydney Gabrielle O’Shea always knew where she was going. She’d always kept her focus, because she had to. Who would keep her on track if she didn’t? Her parents were gone without her even knowing them. And then, too soon, so was her strong, steady grandmother. The men to whom she gave her trust were not dependable.
There was only Lani, her true, forever friend. And then there was Trevor to light up her days.
And now this. Now Rule.
At last. Long after she’d been sure there would never be a m
an for her. Her doubts, her hesitations were falling away. He was peeling them away. With his tenderness and his understanding, with his honesty and his frank desire for her.
Who had she been kidding? She could believe in love at first sight. Like her beloved grandmother before her, she did believe in love at first sight.
As long as it was love at first sight with a certain man. With the right man. The one she could trust. The one she could count on to be there when she needed someone to lean on. The one who honestly seemed to like everything about her, even her prickly nature and her sometimes sharp tongue.
Maybe that wasn’t so surprising, that he had no issues with her strength and determination, with her ambition and her drive. After all, she had no issues with him—or whenever she did have issues, he would patiently and calmly put them to rest.
And she certainly liked the feelings he roused in her. The excitement, the desire. And the unaccustomed trust. Every time she felt her doubts rising—about him, about the impossibility of this thing between them—he stepped right up and banished them. He kept proving to her that he was exactly the man he seemed to be, exactly the man she’d never dared to dream she might someday find.
They danced some more, still kissing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers up into the warm silk of his dark, dark hair. He lifted his head, but only to slant his mouth the other way and continue to kiss her, endlessly, perfectly. She sighed and lifted closer to him, loving the feel of her breasts against his hard chest, of her body and his body, touching so lightly, striking off sparks.
Sparks of promise, sparks of building desire.
He broke the kiss. She sighed at the loss. But then he only lowered his mouth again and kissed her cheek and then her temple. He caught her earlobe between his teeth, worried it so gently.
She made a soft, pleasured sound and pressed her body even closer to him, wanting to melt right into him, wanting to become a part of him, somehow—his body, her body, one and the same. He went on kissing her—his wonderful lips gliding over the curve of her jaw, down the side of her neck.
