A Prince of a Guy

by Jill Shalvis

  Well, good. This was what he’d wanted. Peace and quiet. Yep. Perfect.

  To prove it to himself, he worked like a fiend for several more days, without taking a breather, with no more than a quick check on Melissa, who was apparently thriving. As promised, he made sure to leave an easy breakfast waiting for them and something for dinner, as well, or money for take-out.

  While he was doing all that, he couldn’t shake the new and entirely unwelcome feeling that work was keeping him from something important.

  From something like…his life.

  CARLYNE COULDN’T believe it. Sean managed to avoid her for days. This was a new experience, being avoided, ignored, and she didn’t like it.

  But this was his world. He could defy her, ignore her, fire her. Anything. He was in charge, which was yet another new and unwelcome realization for a woman who had been wrapping people around her pinky finger since before she could even walk.

  “I wanna swim,” Melissa said to her one afternoon in the second week.

  Carlyne looked at the little girl, who’d stripped out of her clothes and was standing there naked as the day she was born, an angelic smile on her face. “How about a bath?”

  “No bath,” Melissa said firmly. “Pool.”

  “No pool. Bath.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Melissa said in a whine.

  “No,” Carly repeated after the petulant girl.

  “Yes.” Melissa stopped short, then frowned. “Hey!”

  Carlyne had no intention of getting in the water. Too dangerous. Sean had been gone every day, all day, in fact, but she couldn’t bank on it. With Sean, she could bank on nothing.

  “But I swim good!” Melissa insisted, her chin jutting stubbornly into the air.

  Well, actually, that made two of them. At home Carlyne had a case of gold medals and trophies. Big whoop-de-do. “Go get clean clothes, I’ll start the tub.”

  Melissa just sent her that same angelic smile, which upon reflection should have been Carlyne’s warning. But happily clueless, she went into the bathroom to start the water.

  The little girl didn’t appear. “Melissa?” She wasn’t in her bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or the living room.

  “Oh, my God!” At a full run, Carlyne hit the back yard, and sure enough, there was that little blond head bobbing in the pool. Without another thought, Carlyne dove in.

  By the time she reached Melissa, her heart was pumping so loud she couldn’t hear a thing over the roar of her blood. Scooping the little girl up, she clutched her close to her chest and swam for the side.

  Melissa grinned. “See? Told you I could swim.” Struggling out of Carlyne’s arms, she slipped out of the pool and danced excitedly on the concrete. “I could have stayed under longer, but you swim fast.”

  Carlyne, champion swimmer, could hardly pull herself out of the water because her knees were shaking so violently.

  “Why is your hair crooked?” Melissa asked, staring at her with fascination. “And your face…it’s melting.” She tipped her head to the side. “How come?”

  Because she had on thick foundation, which felt like papier-mâché on her skin. She dragged herself up, held her wig on her head with one hand and pointed toward the house. “Go.”

  “But—”

  “Go. Dry. Off.”

  At the unaccustomed sharpness of Carly’s voice, Melissa blinked in stunned surprise. Then, predictably, her bottom lip started the quiver. “You mad at me?”

  Carlyne sighed. She’d lost her glasses in the pool. She’d have to go after them. Her clothes were clinging to her body, and if she wasn’t mistaken, one contact lens had slipped. But none of this was Melissa’s fault. She certainly hadn’t asked for her mother to leave the country or to be left with a commitment-challenged uncle. Or stuck in the care of a runaway princess pretending to be a nanny.

  Melissa’s eyes filled. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, honey.” Carlyne sagged with exhaustion. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you scared me. Now we need to get all dried and changed because your uncle Sean might be home soon.”

  Not that he’d been home before ten o’clock at night all week, but that wasn’t Melissa’s fault, either.

  Turning to usher Melissa in the house, she stopped short.

  Over the fence appeared Mrs. Trykowski’s face. She was clearly standing on something, clinging to the wood, watching them. Spying. When she saw Carlyne’s horrified expression, the woman smiled and waved. “Hellooo!”

  Carlyne held her wig and tried not to think about the makeup running in rivulets down her face. Had that been an I-know-who-you-are hello? Or a hey-I-just-love-to-spy-on-my-neighbor wave?

  God only knew.

  Heart in her throat, Carlyne managed a weak wave and vanished into the house, certain her cover was blown.

  No matter. Her two weeks were nearly up, anyway. She’d known it would have to end.

  She just hadn’t known how very much she wouldn’t want it to.

  NOBODY WAS MORE surprised than Sean when Mrs. Trykowski called him at the office. He transferred the woman to the speakerphone because he and Nikki were hands deep in the piles behind his desk, looking for a missing blueprint.

  “Just wanted to tell you everything is going great at the house,” Mrs. Trykowski said, as if she called him every day to check in.

  Sean exchanged a puzzled look with Nikki and let out a little laugh. “Good. Okay. Well…thank you.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me details?”

  “Details?”

  “Sure, as in what Melissa is up to.”

  “Well…”

  “And let’s not forget your live-in.”

  “The nanny,” Sean corrected.

  “Whatever you kids call it these days,” she said with a secret smile in her voice.

  Nikki looked at Sean speculatively.

  Sean shook his head. “Listen, Mrs. Trykowski, I’m really busy here, and—”

  “They’re having a ball, you know. Laughing, giggling, playing… So, when are you going to marry her?”

  “Marry—” He nearly choked. “Now just back the truck up.”

  Nikki, familiar with Sean’s past and his lack of inclination to go for another relationship, grinned widely.

  “She’s really just the nanny,” Sean said weakly.

  “Uh-huh,” Mrs. Trykowski said kindly. “And I just had mind-blowing, head-banging, screaming sex last night.”

  “Mrs. Trykowski!”

  “Well, honestly, Sean O’Mara. That woman you have in your house, she’s the one to make it shine for you, she could fill it with love and laughter—”

  And fire, Sean thought darkly. Let’s not forget the fire.

  “That woman could really turn your place into a home. She’s no simple nanny, and you know it. Now what I want to know is, what are you going to do about it?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake.” A disgusted sigh came over the line. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be a male about this. Figures.” Another loud huff of breath. “Then don’t ask me to tell you what they’re up to again, you big, silly fool.” And she hung up on him.

  “I didn’t ask you in the first place,” he muttered.

  “Interesting.” Nikki was looking at him in a new light. “You and the nanny, huh?”

  “Stop it.” But he had to admit, Mrs. T had spiked his curiosity. What were they doing? “Look, I’m going,” he said, picking up his keys.

  Nikki’s mouth fell open. “As in…going to your house?”

  “Where else?”

  “But it’s the middle of the day.”

  “Yep.” He grabbed his briefcase, then stopped, looking at it. “No work tonight,” he decided, tossing it onto his desk.

  “You’ve never left in the middle of the day before.” She watched him walk to the door. “Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

  WHEN HE ARRIVED, the house was silent. His heart started a
funny, heavy pounding as he moved through the living room toward the definitely empty kitchen.

  Where were they?

  Granted, he hadn’t been around much. Okay, not at all, but they had to be here. Panicked, he ran. “Melissa! Carly!”

  Then, in the hallway, he suddenly heard it. Laughter. They were outside, in the back yard, sitting under the shade of a large elm tree, both looking happy and content.

  The sun hit Carly’s dark hair and her thick glasses, which nearly blinded him with the glare. Her heavy makeup was firmly in place. And those clothes…she wore a ton of them. A long, shapeless, flowery sundress, a sweater, her usual boots. No skin showed beneath her chin.

  It didn’t matter.

  The feel of her warm, lush curves, the taste of her sweet, sexy mouth were permanently imprinted on his brain.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He didn’t understand that. She wasn’t beautiful, not by a long shot. But when she smiled at Melissa, her entire face lit up.

  And Sean’s heart took a tumble.

  Melissa had something smeared across her face, and even as he watched, she shoved what looked like a cookie in her mouth, leaving even more of a mess on her face. “Yum,” she said around a mouthful.

  “Well, you can thank yourself,” Carly told her with a smile. “You did all the mixing.”

  “No fire,” Melissa said with obvious glee.

  “No fire,” Carly agreed dryly. “I’ve stayed clear of the toaster, thank you very much.”

  “Uncle Sean!” Melissa cried, catching sight of him.

  The little pixie rose to her feet, shoved the last of her cookie in her mouth and sprinted for him.

  By now, Sean knew what was coming. He spared a thought for the shirt he wore. His favorite. He thought of the chocolate that was going to hit it and probably stain it, and with a resigned sigh, he opened his arms.

  She leaped right into them with such faith he found his arms tightening around her in a hug he hadn’t known he needed to give.

  “Nice day?” he asked her, burying his face in her sun-warmed hair because she smelled like summer, like cookies, like one-hundred-percent kid.

  Nodding, she did her best to smear chocolate all over him. “We made cookies, but we were real careful, Uncle Sean. No fire.”

  Sean glanced over her head and met Carly’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling, just watching him. He watched her back.

  “And then we walked around the block,” Melissa continued happily. “We laughed at Mrs. Trykowski’s cat cuz she chased a squirrel up a tree and got scared. And stuck. Then I was hot. Really hot, Uncle Sean, so that’s why I did it. That’s why I went swimming.”

  Sean’s heart stopped. “Swimming?”

  “Uh-huh. Water’s warm.”

  Hard to talk when there sat a lump in his throat the size of a regulation football. “You aren’t supposed to go in the pool without me, Melissa. Remember?”

  Melissa lifted her head, looking both contrite and thrilled at the same time. “I remember. But I forgot. And I scared Carly and she jumped in.”

  Sean stared at Carly. “But she doesn’t know how to swim.”

  “Oh, yes, she does,” Melissa told him. “She swam right to me, really fast. Then when I told her I could swim, she cried and laughed. Right, Carly?”

  Carly swallowed hard, her gaze never leaving Sean’s. “Right, Melissa.”

  Slowly, because his heart was still thundering in his ears, Sean set Melissa down and continued to stare at Carly. “You told me you couldn’t swim.”

  “I know.”

  She knew. Damn, but he’d done it again, fallen sucker to another woman who lied. “Melissa, why don’t you go pick out some stories for me to read to you?”

  “But you always say you’re too busy to read to me.”

  He winced. What kind of an uncle was he that he hadn’t made any time for his niece? “I’m sorry about that. I was wrong. Go pick a few out. Take your time.”

  Melissa clapped, then skipped to the house.

  Carly rose, probably hoping to escape, as well.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She looked toward the house. “I thought I should help her—”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Then I should—”

  “Stay,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. An electric current seemed to run through them, and annoyed that now, even now, she could still get to him, he dropped his hand.

  She crossed her arms and stepped back.

  A defensive pose. Sean’s heart twisted. “Let’s get this straight, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “You can’t cook, though you said you could. But you can swim, though you said you couldn’t.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper, and she was studying the tops of her boots, apparently fascinated.

  “Carly…” He let out a disparaging sound, struggling with temper, wanting even now to give her a chance to explain herself.

  She didn’t take it.

  “Is there something wrong?” he prompted, willing her to give him something, anything. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No!”

  Too fast, he thought with a surge of worry.

  “What, then? What do I need to know that you haven’t told me?”

  “Nothing.”

  Frustrated, he turned away, staring blindly at the pool, thinking he should let it go. But he couldn’t seem to do that. After Tina, he’d started swimming laps to relieve stress.

  Suddenly, he had a whole lot more stress to relieve. “I can’t do this again,” he said grimly.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d been this stupid twice in his life. “Look, you don’t want to trust me, fine. But I’m trusting you with Melissa, and I’d like more references. Can you do that?”

  She swallowed hard, her only sign she’d heard him. “Yes.”

  Heart heavy, he headed inside.

  “Sean?” she called, making him stop and look at her. “I’d never hurt Melissa.”

  “I know.”

  “Can I stay? For the few days there are left?”

  Her eyes were eager. Hopeful. And dammit, that made him ache. “You can stay,” he said quietly, wondering why her relieved smile reached him when he didn’t want to be reached, not by her.

  6

  SHE WASN’T a princess in disguise, she was a chicken.

  Late last night, long after Melissa had fallen asleep and Sean’s light had finally gone off, long after Carlyne had snorted in disgust over the television news, which was still claiming she was either in a hospital suffering exhaustion or on an extravagant vacation in the Bahamas, she’d slipped a sheet of paper beneath Sean’s bedroom door.

  More references. That they were newly manufactured by Francesca didn’t make Carlyne feel any better. Nor did the fact that she still hadn’t told him the truth about herself.

  She couldn’t tell him, not yet.

  Francesca was mad at her. Sean was mad at her.

  And she was mad at herself.

  Not to mention nervous. Sean had left her a message on the machine saying he’d be home in time to take Melissa out for a burger, which the little girl had been asking him to do for several days.

  Carlyne was sure she wasn’t included in the invitation, so she sat on the porch watching Melissa play in the grass, waiting for Sean.

  When she heard a rustle in the tree by the fence, she rose to her feet with a sense of resignation. Melissa was still happily playing on the far side of the yard, oblivious, so Carlyne didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Mrs. Trykowski?”

  The rustling in the tree grew louder. There came a muffled curse.

  “I know you’re up there.” She had to face this. She’d hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone for that inadvertent swim. If Mrs. Trykowski had recognized her, Carlyne needed to know. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “Oh, no, dear. I’m an expert tree climber.”

  The
branches wriggled wildly as the old woman let herself be seen. “I’ve been climbing this tree for a long time now.”

  “What? Why?”

  Though the tree was on Mrs. Trykowski’s side of the fence, the woman swung down from a branch and dropped to the ground on Sean’s side. “Why?” the older woman asked incredibly. “So I know what’s going on, of course.”

  “Don’t you think if people wanted you to know, they’d tell you?”

  “Well, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Sniffing, she straightened her plaid cotton housedress. Her knee-high stockings had fallen to her ankles, and she had a twig in her hair. “But not Sean. He keeps his emotions right next to his closed-off heart, where they’re safe.”

  “Closed-off heart?”

  “You know about his ex.”

  No. No, she didn’t.

  “A horrible woman, Tina was. Well, actually, she was one of those incredibly beautiful women, a homecoming queen, if I’m not mistaken. But she couldn’t tell the truth to save her life. They were going to get married, but she lied about everything—her shopping bills, where she’d been, what she’d been doing, her hair…”

  “Her hair?” Carly asked weakly, touching the ends of her wig.

  “She pretended to be a natural blonde.” Mrs. Trykowski’s eyes were sharp. “No one is born that blond, honey. The point is, she broke his heart but good. I am very glad you plan on mending it.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Just don’t ever lie to him.”

  Carlyne looked into Mrs. Trykowski’s sky-blue, guileless eyes and searched for answers. Did she know?

  Impossible to tell.

  The older woman tipped her head to the side, as if considering the matter, and Carlyne held her breath.

  “Please don’t betray him. I’d really hate to see that. He wouldn’t like to think so, but he could still be easily hurt. Especially by a woman he cares about.”

  “I—I don’t intend to hurt him.” Don’t you? taunted a small voice.

  “Melissa is doing so well,” Mrs. T said.

  Carlyne turned her head and found Melissa walking toward them, a big, warm grin on her face. The grin was for Carly, and she found herself returning it. And just that simply, Carlyne’s heart tripped. Or maybe not just that simply, at all.