Royals_For Their Royal Heir

by Abby Green

  Sydney worked and worked some more. Rule often appeared to take her to lunch—and he moved forward on the goal he’d set for himself of giving her partners enough new business that they wouldn’t consider themselves cheated when she moved on.

  There were more tabloid stories. Sydney didn’t read them, but evidently a few of her coworkers did. She found more than one discarded scandal rag on the lunch table in the break room. Somehow, they’d gotten her high school and college graduation pictures, and there were pictures of Rule, bare-chested on a sailboat with a blonde, and also wearing a tux at some gala event, a gorgeous redhead on his arm. Sydney hardly glanced at them. Rule said that when they got to Montedoro, a press conference would be arranged. They would answer questions for a roomful of reporters and let them take a lot of pictures. That should satisfy them if they hadn’t already moved on to the next big story by then.

  Twice during the weeks it took her to finish up at the firm, Rule had to travel. He had business in New York and spent four days in Manhattan. And he also returned briefly to Montedoro to meet with a certain luxury car manufacturer who was considering giving one of his new designs, a sleek high-end sports car, the name “Montedoro.”

  Sydney missed him when he was gone. Her bed seemed so empty without him there to keep her warm in the middle of the night. Trev missed him, too. “I sad, Mama. I want Roo,” he would say. And she would remind him that Rule would return soon.

  On the last Friday in April, Sydney came home late as usual. Rule was back from Montedoro. He and Lani had waited to have dinner with her. They’d even invited the ever-present but usually silent Joseph to join them. Lani had outdone herself with a crown roast of lamb. Rule opened a lovely bottle of Syrah. And Lani announced that she’d decided to take them up on their offer and come with them to Montedoro.

  Sydney jumped from her chair and ran around the table and hugged her friend good and hard. “Whew. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I really was hoping you would come with us.”

  Lani laughed. “Are you kidding? Miss the chance to live on the Mediterranean in the Prince’s Palace? I couldn’t pass it up.”

  Even Joseph was smiling. “Good news,” he said and raised the glass of wine he’d hardly touched.

  Lani said, “Life experience is everything for a novelist. Plus, well, what would I do without you?”

  “Exactly.” Sydney hugged her again. “And how could we possibly get along without you?”

  Deep in the night, Sydney woke suddenly from a sound sleep. It was after three and she had no idea what had wakened her.

  And then she heard Trev crying. “Mama … Mama …”

  Beside her, Rule woke, too. He sat up. “I’ll go …”

  She kissed his beard-scratchy cheek and pushed him back down to the pillow. “No. I’ll do it.” She threw on a robe and went to see what was wrong.

  Trev was fussy and feverish, his dark hair wet with sweat. He kept putting his hands to his cheeks and crying, “Hurt, Mama. Hurt …”

  Lani came in, her hair every which way, a sleep mark on her cheek, belting her robe. “Can I do something?”

  “It’s all right. I think he’s teething. Go back to bed. I’ve got him.”

  “Come get me if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  Yawning, Lani returned to her room.

  Sydney took Trev’s temperature. It was marginally elevated. She gave him some children’s acetaminophen and took him downstairs to get one of the teething rings she kept in the freezer. She was back in his room, sitting in the rocker with him as he fussed and chewed on the teething ring when Rule appeared in the doorway to the upstairs hall, bare-chested in a pair of blue pajama bottoms.

  “He’s not a happy camper,” she said. “I think it’s his teeth. I gave him a painkiller. It should take effect soon.”

  Trev pushed away from Sydney. “Roo! Hurt. I have hurt …” He held out his chubby little arms.

  Rule came for him, scooping him up out of Sydney’s lap without a word or a second’s hesitation. Trev wrapped his arms around his stepfather’s neck and held on, sticking the ring back in his mouth and burrowing his dark head against Rule’s chest. Rule began walking him, back and forth across the bedroom floor.

  Sydney, still in the rocker, stared up at the man and the little boy, at their two dark heads so close together, and tried to get a grip on exactly what she was feeling.

  Jealousy?

  Maybe a little. Rule had become nothing short of proprietary about Trev—and Trev about him. In recent weeks, with Rule around day in and day out, Trev had grown to count on him, to expect him to be there, to demand his attention. Since Rule was only too happy to spend lots of time with Trev, and did, it was natural that a powerful bond had swiftly developed between them.

  And wasn’t that bond a good thing? As a father figure, Rule had so far proved himself to be pretty much the ideal. So what was bothering her?

  Did she want Rule to defer to her when it came to Trev, was that it? When he’d grabbed her son from her arms without so much as a do-you-mind, had that somehow threatened her, made her feel that her status as Trev’s parent was in jeopardy? Lani and Trev had a close relationship, but Lani always remembered that Sydney was the mom, that her claim on him came first.

  Rule, though …

  He didn’t defer to her anymore, if he ever had. He seemed to consider himself as much Trev’s dad as Sydney was his mom.

  And what was wrong with that?

  Wasn’t that what she’d been hoping for all along?

  Ugh. Maybe it was guilt—scratch the “maybe.” Probably it was guilt. Her guilt, because she knew she’d never been around enough. She worked killer hours and a lot of days she didn’t see her son awake except early in the morning, when she kissed him goodbye on her way out the door.

  No wonder he chose Rule over her when he needed comforting. Rule was more a consistent presence in his life than she was.

  But that was going to change. Very soon. And it would change because of Rule, because of what he offered her and Trev, because of the kind of husband and father he was. Not only deeply committed to his family, but also an excellent provider.

  As soon as she was finished at the firm, she would be available to Trev more consistently—constantly, in fact, at least at first. And even when she found interesting work in Montedoro, it was going to be work with reasonable hours for a change. She would truly have it all. Time to be a mom, time to be a wife, time to do good work that mattered.

  It was all going to be fine and she needed to get over her guilt and her jealousy. Trev had a dad now, that was all that was happening here. Sometimes a child wanted his dad over his mom. And there was nothing at all wrong with that.

  She leaned her head back in the rocker and closed her eyes.

  The next moment—or so it seemed to her—Rule was whispering in her ear. “Come back to bed, sleepyhead.”

  She forced her heavy eyes to open, asked, “Trev?”

  He put a finger to his lips, tipped his head toward the toddler bed across the room, where Trev was curled up under the blankets, his arm around his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

  She gave Rule her hand and he pulled her out of the chair. He drew her close and she leaned against him as they returned to the master bedroom.

  In bed, he gathered her close to him. “You work too hard.” He stroked her hair.

  “Not for long. Another week or so, the way I figure it, and I’m so outta there.”

  “I can’t wait to take you home with me—you and Trevor both.”

  She traced his dark brows, one and then the other, by feel more than sight. They had turned off the lamp. “I have a secret to tell you.”

  “I love secrets.” He bent closer, kissed her temple. “Especially your secrets.”

  “Don’t laugh.”

  “I promise, I won’t.” He stroked her hair.

  “You and Trev look a lot alike.”

  He kissed her lips, a brushing kiss, his breath so w
arm across her cheek. “We do, a little, don’t we—and is that your secret?”

  “No. I’m getting to it, though. And it starts with the resemblance between you and Trev, which is pretty striking, really. Beyond the dark hair and eyes, you both tip your heads at the same angle when you’re thinking. And when you smile … you make me think of him. In fact, that first day we met, remember how I’ve said I kept thinking how you looked familiar? Remember, I even asked you if we’d met before?”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, kind of marveling over it. And then I realized it’s not surprising in the least.”

  “Why not?”

  “Simple. The sperm donor I chose was a lot like you—and yes, that would be my big secret.” She traced the so-manly strong line of his jaw. “I chose him because he was just like you—I mean, the you I didn’t even know then. He had your same height and build, dark eyes and dark hair. I chose him because he seemed like the man I always hoped to meet someday. The man I had by then decided I would never meet.”

  He withdrew from her then, turning over onto his back beside her.

  She wondered at that. “Rule? Are you okay? Did I say something that upset you?”

  “Of course you didn’t.” He sounded … distant. And a little strange. “I’m perfectly all right.”

  “You don’t seem all right.”

  He found her hand under the covers, twined his fingers with hers. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” She smiled into the darkness. “You sure you were never a sperm donor?”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Well, yeah. I guess I am. But sometimes, it’s almost eerie, the resemblance between you and Trev.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  She went on, “I always kind of hoped to meet him. But he was a confidential donor. I left permission that he could contact me if he ever changed his mind. He didn’t. Not so far, anyway—and that reminds me. I need to change my contact information with Secure Choice—that’s the clinic I used, Secure Choice Cryobank.” She waited for his response, thinking of his possessiveness concerning Trev—and also a little worried about the dreamy way she’d spoken of a man she’d never met.

  Was he jealous? Would he try to talk her out of keeping her information current, want her to make it more difficult for the donor to get in touch should he ever decide he wanted to?

  But then Rule only reached for her again. He eased his arm under her nape and drew her into him, bringing her to rest against his warm, hard chest. “Go to sleep.”

  She closed her eyes and let the steady, even sound of his heartbeat lull her.

  Of course he’d never been a sperm donor. She knew what a donor went through. She’d researched the whole process when she decided on artificial insemination. It wasn’t just a matter of doing the happy hand in a cup.

  A man went through all kinds of testing before he could become a donor. Only a small percentage of applicants were accepted. A man had to donate weekly, at least, and he couldn’t have sex for two days before each donation. He also couldn’t go more than five days without ejaculating, because not often enough was as bad for sperm production as too often. Most sperm donors signed contracts for six months to a year of donations—six months to a year of having sex in a cup on a strict schedule. The money wasn’t even all that much, averaging under a hundred dollars per viable donation.

  To have been her donor, Rule would have had to sign on for all of the above with the fertility clinic she had used, or an affiliate. What were the odds of that?

  He was a hardworking man who traveled the world doing business for his country. Not only would being a donor be unprofitable, time-consuming and a logistical nightmare for Rule, it just … wasn’t like him. He felt so strongly about family and fatherhood. He wasn’t a man who could help to give a child life and not want to be there while that child was growing up.

  Still, she didn’t get the way he’d pulled away from her when she talked about how much alike he and Trevor were, when she’d confessed that he, Rule, was pretty much her dream man come to life. He’d turned onto his back before she said anything about how she’d given permission to be contacted, so his original withdrawal really couldn’t be chalked up to apprehension that the donor might show up someday.

  She didn’t like the way he’d said, You’re joking, when she’d asked him if he’d ever been a donor. He could so easily have given her a simple, direct denial.

  It wasn’t that she actually suspected he might be Trevor’s biological father. She only wondered why he’d seemed so defensive and why he’d pulled away from her when she’d only been trying to tell him that he was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.

  Chapter Eleven

  But by the next morning, in the bright light of day, as Sydney hurried to get ready to head to the office, her vague suspicions about Rule …

  Well, they seemed downright ridiculous.

  He hadn’t really pulled away from her last night, had he? He’d only rolled over to his back. And when she’d asked if anything was wrong, he’d told her there was nothing.

  And his seeming evasiveness when she teased him about being a sperm donor? It just didn’t strike her as all that odd now that she’d had a little time to think it over. He was very attached to Trevor. He didn’t want to dwell on the stranger who had fathered her child. She could understand that.

  She decided that she would put the whole issue from her mind. She had so much work to do and not all that much time to do it in. The last thing she needed was to waste her energy stewing about stuff she’d made up in her head.

  Plus, if she wanted to dwell on something, why not choose something real? Something important. Something potentially quite wonderful.

  As of that morning, her period was one week late. It was beginning to look as though she and her new husband were already getting their start on that larger family they both hoped for.

  But she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She had been under a lot of stress lately—meeting and marrying Rule in the space of forty-eight hours, and then having to send him away to make his apologies to the “other woman” in his life. And then there was the way she was working like crazy to finish up at the firm, planning a move halfway around the world.

  Yes. Her life was especially stressful right now. And stress could really mess up a woman’s cycle.

  She decided she would wait a few weeks before she said anything to Rule. No reason to get his expectations up unnecessarily—or her own, for that matter. She would let that question rest for a while, not allow herself to get too excited about it until more time had passed.

  Trev was much better that morning. He seemed to be over the bout of teething pain. His temperature was normal and he was eating his breakfast cereal, chattering away, when she left for work.

  He gave her a big kiss. “Come back soon, Mama!”

  “Don’t you worry, I will.”

  And that evening, she managed to get away from the officer earlier than usual. She was even in time to give Trev his bath before bed. Once he was in bed, Rule said he wanted to take her out to dinner.

  They went to the Mansion. Sydney loved the food and service there and Rule liked it, too. The staff knew him and protected his privacy.

  He made a toast. “To us. To our family. To our whole lives together.”

  She clinked her wineglass with his, aglow with happiness, knowing that she had to be the most fortunate woman in all of Texas. After a couple of sips, she set her glass down and didn’t pick it up again. Might as well be cautious. Just in case she really was pregnant.

  Not that she thought she was. Uh-uh. She wasn’t going there. Not yet.

  Four days later, on the first Friday in May, Sydney said goodbye to Teale, Gayle and Prosser.

  She left her desk clean and neat and her clients effectively shifted to other attorneys in the firm. She also departed on good terms with her former partners, all thanks to her strict dedication to doing th
ings right—and her new husband’s willingness to share his connections.

  The next week was all about packing for the move. Lani, one of the most organized human beings on the planet, had already gotten a good head start on that. But there was more to do. Sydney got to work on the rest of the job with her usual enthusiasm. They were leaving the house furnished and in the hands of an excellent Realtor.

  Their passports were current. Even Trevor’s. Sydney had gotten his for him months before, when she’d been thinking of taking a vacation in Ireland.

  On the second Friday in May, they boarded the private jet for Montedoro. Lani’s brother, Carlos, and her parents, Iris and Jorge, came to the airport to see them off. There were also reporters. They snapped lots of pictures and asked an endless number of way-too-personal questions.

  Rule told them he had no comment at this time and Joseph herded them up the ramp and into the plane.

  The flight was a long one and there was a seven-hour time difference between Dallas and their destination. They took off from Love Field at two in the afternoon and arrived at the airport in Nice at eight the next morning. A limo was waiting to whisk them to Montedoro and the Prince’s Palace. So were more paparazzi. Again, they hurried to get into the car and away from the questions and cameras.

  The first sight of the palace stole Sydney’s breath. White as a dove’s wing against the clear blue sky, it was a sprawling edifice of crenellated towers and paladin windows and balconies and arches. It stood on a rocky promontory overlooking the sapphire-colored sea.

  The driver took them around to a private entrance. By a little after nine, they were filing into Rule’s apartment.

  After the grandeur of the arched, marble-floored hallways decorated in gorgeous mosaics, Sydney was relieved that Rule’s private space was more low-key. The furniture was simple, plush and inviting, the walls were of stucco or something similar, with tall, curving ceilings and dark wood floors covered with beautiful old rugs woven in intricate patterns, most of them deep reds and vivid blues. Balconies in the large sitting room and in the master suite opened onto stunning views of the main courtyard and the crowns of the palms and mimosas, the olive and oak trees that covered the hillside below. Farther out, the Mediterranean, dotted here and there with pretty sailboats and giant cruise ships, shone in the afternoon sun.