The Prince's Royal Dilemma

by Brenda Harlen

  “That’s my fourth group already today and let me tell you, these shoes are not as comfortable as the salesman promised they’d be.” Tan twisted the cap off a bottle of water and took a long swallow. “Of course, it would help if I’d remembered that it was Wednesday before I put them on this morning.”

  Lara glanced at the sleek ivory slingbacks on her friend’s feet. “Because those are definitely Friday shoes.”

  Tan rolled her eyes. “Because Wednesday is cruise ship day, and the tourists usually like a little cultural education to add to their shopping experience.”

  “And soon they’ll be looking at your work in here,” she pointed out.

  For months Lara had been urging her friend to show her paintings to the gallery owner, but Tanis had been reluctant to do so. When she and Luke recently became lovers, she had become adamant in her refusal. But fate had taken a hand, leading Luke to discover some canvases she’d hidden in the back of a closet. He’d been so impressed that he’d immediately starting planning for her show.

  Tanis smiled now at Lara’s reference to the event. “Okay, that’ll help me get through the day even if it won’t make my feet feel better—or help us to get a seat at The Angel.”

  “We can do take-out,” Lara suggested.

  So they went to their favorite café where patrons were lined up waiting for tables and ordered sandwiches and sodas to go. They carried their lunches down to the pier to eat while watching the boats on the water.

  “What are you doing in town today?” Tan asked.

  “I just needed a change of scenery.”

  “I imagine those ivory towers must seem monotonous after a while.”

  Lara ignored her sarcasm as she unwrapped her sandwich.

  “So what did he do?” Tan prompted.

  “Who?”

  “His Royal Arrogance, of course. Even on your day off, you don’t like to be too far away from the children in case they need you for anything, so something must have happened to make you want to avoid their guardian.”

  She should have known that her friend would guess something was up—or maybe that was why she’d come here. She desperately needed someone else’s perspective and Tanis was the only person she trusted with her deepest secrets. So she took a deep breath and said, “He kissed me.”

  “And…”

  “And I melted,” Lara admitted. “I never understood what that meant, until he took me in his arms and everything inside me turned to mush.”

  Tanis frowned as she chewed on her straw. “I knew this would happen if you went back there.”

  “Knew what would happen?”

  “That you would fall in love with him.”

  “I’m not—” Lara huffed out a breath when Tanis’s eyebrows lifted. “I like him.”

  “Yeah, there’s a newsflash,” her friend said drily.

  “I mean, above and beyond the fact that he’s gorgeous and a prince, I actually like who he is.”

  “But he’s a prince.”

  “I know he’s way out of my league,” she admitted. “And I’m not naive enough to actually fantasize about having a relationship with him. I just want to be with him—even once. Just to finally know what it’s like to be with a man.”

  Tanis nearly choked on her soda. Setting her drink aside, she stared at her friend. “You’re not still a virgin.”

  Lara felt her cheeks flush as she glanced furtively around to make sure no one had overhead her friend’s comment. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “Ohmygod. You are still a virgin.”

  “So?”

  “So how did I not know this?”

  “Because I refuse to wear a scarlet V on my shirt?”

  “Okay—I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize—I mean, you dated. Lots of guys. Great guys. And I just assumed—”Tan shook her head. “Obviously I assumed wrong. Never mind. The important thing to know is that you cannot sleep with Rowan.”

  “I can’t?”

  “Definitely not. Not for your first time, anyway.”

  Lara frowned. “You’re saying that I can sleep with Rowan if I sleep with someone else first?”

  “Sure. Because a woman—maybe a man, too, though I couldn’t attest to that—tends to romanticize her first sexual experience. Even if it’s a fumbling, groping three-minute initiation in the backseat of a borrowed station wagon, it will forever be remembered as her first. And when that first experience is with a man who is so much more than most other men, she’s doomed to a lifetime of disappointment because no one else will ever be able to measure up.”

  “Well, it’s a moot point, anyway, because Rowan made it clear that he’s too busy searching for a bride to be distracted by me.”

  Tanis winced in sympathy. “Then it’s true—the reports in the paper about the prince regent having to get married?”

  Lara tossed the remnants of her sandwich to a bird. “Yep. According to the mandate of parliament, a married ruler is more mature and responsible, understands the value of family and is better able to anticipate the needs of his people.”

  Tanis shook her head. “And I bet the women will line up for the chance to play his dutiful wife.”

  “You have no idea,” Lara told her. “Mail has been coming in from all over the world—bags full every day. Everything from handwritten letters spritzed with perfume to formal résumés outlining wifely qualifications to nude photos obviously intended to appeal to his baser instincts.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “Henri asked me to help him sort through the mail. He thought a woman’s perspective would be useful.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Say ‘Sorry, not my job.’” Tanis glanced at her watch, obviously remembering that she had to get back to hers.

  Lara rose with her friend. “But the fact is, whoever Rowan chooses to marry will effectively become a stepmother to the children.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you to be enlisted in the search for a bride for the man you dream about sleeping with?”

  She just shrugged, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel as she dropped her empty cup and wrapper in the garbage. “You told me I can’t sleep with him.”

  “Make sure you don’t forget it,” Tanis warned.

  Cameron Leandres poured himself another glass of Scotch before returning to his seat across from his mother. Though he was intrigued by her plan, he had some reservations about its chances for success.

  “What did Michael think about all of this?” he asked Elena.

  “This isn’t about Michael—it’s about you.”

  “In other words, he didn’t want any part of your scheme,” he guessed.

  “He doesn’t have your passion, Cameron. Or your ambition.”

  The possibility of ruling the country definitely appealed to him. He was tired of being second-rate royalty—a man with a title but no real power or wealth. Now his mother was offering him the chance for more. If her plan worked, it would change his life, his future, everything.

  “What, specifically, did you have in mind?” he asked her.

  “I thought a nice little scandal would be sufficient grounds for a motion of nonconfidence.”

  “Except that cousin Rowan isn’t generally known for his scandalous behavior,” he felt compelled to point out.

  “Have you forgotten about Margot Olivier?”

  The name didn’t mean anything to him.

  “That’s right,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I keep forgetting you’re ten years younger than Rowan. You would have been a child, away at boarding school at the time.”

  “Still, it couldn’t have been too much of a scandal if I never heard about it.”

  “It might have been huge,” she said. “Except that it happened here on the island, so Eduardo managed to hush it up pretty quickly. But I was there when Rowan got the phone call that dragged him away from a formal dinner at the palace and when he returned a few
hours later. And I overheard him telling his father that Margot had been arrested.”

  “The prince’s girlfriend in prison.” Cameron smiled.

  “Yes, that would be a scandal.”

  “It gets better,” Elena told him. “When Eduardo insisted that her wild behavior proved she was an unsuitable companion for a member of the royal family, Rowan confided that she was pregnant.”

  His heart pounded with excitement. “If Rowan has an illegitimate child, that’s immediate grounds for disqualification.”

  “Yes, well, unfortunately Margot lied about that little fact.”

  The excitement faded. “It wasn’t Rowan’s child?”

  “She wasn’t even pregnant, but she knew that claiming she was having his baby was the one thing that might get him back after he’d realized she wanted the status of being with a royal more than she wanted him and severed their relationship. And he might have fallen for it, if Eduardo hadn’t stepped in and insisted on having her examined by the royal doctor to ensure she and the baby were in good health after their ordeal. His examination confirmed that there was no baby.”

  Cameron could only imagine how humiliating that revelation had been for his cousin, but he didn’t allow himself to feel any sympathy. As far as he was concerned, everything had always come too easily for the Santiago brothers and Rowan was no exception. It was time for the Leandres family to have some of the fame and fortune and a place in the history books of Tesoro del Mar.

  “How is this supposed to help us now?” he asked his mother. “A decade-old scandal isn’t likely to sway public opinion.”

  “We could find Margot, bring her back—”

  He shook his head. “Do you really believe, after more than a dozen years, that Rowan has any feelings for her?”

  “Well, as far as I know, he’s never been seriously involved with anyone else since then.”

  “Because he’s wary, not brokenhearted,” Cameron assured her.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  He swallowed the last mouthful of Scotch. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Chapter Nine

  She was missing an earring.

  It wasn’t normally the type of thing that would send Lara into a panic, but it wasn’t her usual gold hoops that she’d been wearing. She grabbed her ear, felt the familiar shape and texture of the one teardrop-shaped topaz surrounded by tiny diamonds. Where was the other one?

  She ran her hands over the surface of the dressing table, as if her hands might find what her eyes couldn’t see, but without success. She’d put them both in—she was sure of it. In fact, she’d just finished doing so when Lexi came running to tell her that Damon was climbing up the bookcases in the library…

  She slipped her feet into her shoes and hurried down to the library.

  He’d grinned at her from his precarious perch on the edge of a shelf that was taller than she was, and when she’d demanded that he get down immediately, he’d jumped to her, completely fearless. She’d caught him, hugging him close, though she’d been sorely tempted to paddle his bottom to ensure he wouldn’t pull such a daredevil stunt again. And she suspected that somewhere in that process, he’d knocked her earring out.

  She walked directly into the room, not hearing Rowan’s voice until she’d crossed the threshold. He was hanging up the phone, obviously just having finished a call, and she curtsied automatically.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Highness.” She started to back out of the room.

  “No need,” he told her, rising to his feet. “My call is finished.”

  “I just wanted to take a quick look around,” she told him. “I was in here earlier and may have lost—”

  “This?” he asked, pulling the topaz teardrop from his pocket.

  Her relief was immediate. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He came around the desk, studying the earring he held between his thumb and forefinger. “A gift from someone special?”

  “Yes.” She held out her hand, but he made no move to relinquish the gem.

  “A boyfriend?” he queried.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I’m curious.”

  “David gave them to me.” She’d told him about David and Stephanie, how they’d taken her back to Ireland with them after her mother passed away. Not that she expected Rowan to remember those details, nor did she intend to offer more of an explanation than she’d already given.

  “David Mitchell?” he asked, surprising her with this proof that he did recall their conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “They look like they could be family heirlooms.”

  “They originally belonged to his mother, who gave them to Stephanie when she married David, and when Stephanie passed away, he gave them to me. May I have it back now?”

  “Of course,” he said, but instead of handing it to her, he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing the naked lobe.

  She held herself perfectly still, discomfited by the intimacy of the touch, by his nearness. “I can do that.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  But he performed the task for her, easily and efficiently, while she held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t guess how his gentle touch affected her.

  “They suit you.” His fingers trailed down to the chain she wore around her neck and the matching topaz pendant that nestled against her throat. “Pretty. Feminine. Unique.”

  “Thank you.” She wished he would step away, so she could breathe. But he remained where he was, so close she could feel the heat emanating from him—heat that threatened to melt everything inside of her.

  “You don’t often wear jewelry,” he noted.

  “It’s not practical when I’m with the children.”

  “Obviously you’re not going out with them tonight.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I’m going to the opening of a new exhibit at the art gallery.”

  “That’s right—it’s your friend Tanis’s work, isn’t it?”

  She was startled, not just that he was aware of the show but the featured artist.

  “The Santiago family has long been a supporter of the arts,” he answered her unspoken question. “In fact, I was thinking that Chantal and I might check out the exhibit a little bit later this evening.”

  She forced a smile, as if she were pleased that he was seeing Chantal St. Laurent again. And she knew she should be, because the sooner the prince decided on a bride, the sooner she might stop fantasizing that he could ever be interested in a woman without an appropriate pedigree. A woman like her.

  She deliberately stepped away, irritated that she could be so susceptible to his casual touches and easy charm when he was only toying with her. What else could it be when he had a French supermodel waiting in the wings?

  “This is your second date with Ms. St. Laurent?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Then things must be going well.”

  “She can hold up her end of a conversation,” he said.

  Lara frowned. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement.”

  He shrugged. “In addition to fitting the criteria, she’s attractive, she isn’t bothered by public scrutiny, and she doesn’t bore me.”

  “High praise,” she said drily. “You might consider having those words written into your wedding vows.”

  She saw the gleam of amusement in the dark-chocolate eyes that met hers. “Why are you offended?”

  “Because you should want more for yourself, and more from the woman you’re going to marry.”

  “I’m marrying for duty, not desire,” he reminded her.

  “Another point I’m sure you’ve made clear to the numerous women vying to be chosen as your bride.”

  “The woman I choose to marry will be honored and cherished and she will never have any cause to doubt that.”

  “What about loved?”

  He shook his head. “You’re innocent in more ways than I even realized.”

  “We’re not talking
about me, we’re talking about your future wife.”

  “Do you really think any of the women participating in this mockery of a courtship are looking to fall in love? They don’t want me—they want the title and crown of Princess of Tesoro del Mar.”

  “Maybe that’s not so unreasonable, since you just want to satisfy the mandate of parliament.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. “What I want hardly matters. I’m doing what must be done for the future of the monarchy in this country.”

  “Then you do want something more?”

  “Of course I do. But I can’t have what I want.”

  “How do you know?” she challenged. “Why are you so convinced of that?”

  His eyes locked on hers. “Because I want you, Lara.”

  And she could tell by the naked desire she saw in his gaze that it was true. The realization both thrilled and terrified her. She feared he would see the same want in her own eyes, but she was helpless to look away, unable to hide her feelings or guard her heart.

  “I want to make love with you. Slowly. Sweetly. And thoroughly. I want to touch you and taste you and hear you call out my name.” He cupped her face in his hands, and she was trapped, not so much by his hands as by the hypnotic intensity of his words. “Say it, Lara. Say my name.”

  She couldn’t refuse. In that moment, she couldn’t have refused him anything. She moistened her lips with her tongue, conscious of the pounding of her heart, the pulsing of her blood, then whispered, “Rowan.”

  It was all she managed before his mouth crushed down on hers.

  If he could have nothing else, Rowan would have this—a kiss, a moment, a memory. And he took it, knowing that it was all he would ever have, and damning the fate that made it so.

  She met his passion with her own, her avid and eager response fueling the flames of a desire that was already burning out of control.

  He wanted her in his bed—that was a truth he’d recognized almost from the start. The fact that he cared about her was a more recent revelation, and a much more unnerving one. The desire to mate was a simple and primal response to an attraction and one that he’d not hesitated to act upon in the past. But to be intimate with a woman he cared about as much as he desired her was much more complicated—and much more dangerous. Especially with his own wedding in the not-too-distant future.