Scandal With a Prince (28 page)

He set his hat and sunglasses on the kitchen counter, then stepped toward her to take both her hands in his.
 
His skin still held the warmth of the afternoon sun.
 
“Optimism aside, here are the facts:
 
He wasn’t on my flight yesterday morning, nor was he at the park today.
 
Neither of us noticed him when we were sitting on the bench looking out at the beach.
 
Correct?”

“Correct.”
 

Reassurance filled his voice as he continued, “That means Anna was long gone by the time he starting taking pictures.
 
On top of that, I don’t look like myself and the bench was partially shaded, so even with that lens, photographs taken from that distance will leave room for doubt.
 
So
if
it was a paparazzo, and
if
his photos are published, I’ll ignore them.
 
No confirmation or denial from the palace means that they weren’t worth comment, which means most people won’t believe the man in the photo is me.
 
It will end up being another celebrity tidbit that disappears into the ether.”

She flexed her fingers in Stefano’s as she studied his face, taking in the expressive black-ringed green eyes with tiny crinkles at the corners, the high, tanned cheekbones, and the firm line of his jaw.
 
He was so strong, so sure, that she wanted to believe him.
 
But how could anyone not see that the gorgeous, charismatic man before her was Stefano Barrali?
 
If that lens was half as powerful as she suspected, someone who might not recognize him in passing on the street would look at the photos and say,
wow, Prince Stefano looks different with the stubble.
 
Not,
no way that’s the prince.

As he’d pointed out to her more than once, he wasn’t recognized on the street because no one expected to see him, especially in casual dress.
 
A tabloid photo trumpeting his name was an entirely different matter.

If she was snapped kissing the prince and publicly identified, what would it do to her career?
 
To Anna?

Stefano grimaced at her worried expression.

“You’re used to this,” she countered.
 
“I’m not.
 
As much as I knew this was inevitable, I can’t help worrying.
 
I thought I’d have more time before having to deal with anything like this.”

“I understand.
 
In fact, I’d be surprised if you didn’t worry.
 
But I told you that I’d do everything in my power to ensure you and Anna aren’t hurt.
 
And I keep my promises.”
 
He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss to the tips of her fingers one by one.
 
“Speaking of which, we were in the middle of an important conversation when we were interrupted.
 
I was trying to convince you of…something.”
 
He maintained eye contact as he moved his mouth to her wrist, a barely-banked fire lurking in his heavy-lidded gaze.
 
“The car service won’t be here for an hour, which gives us plenty of time to discuss my proposal.
 
Ask me anything you want.”

“Anything?”
 
Do you love me?

“Anything.
 
I want you to trust me.”
 
He grinned.
 
“Though a single word from you could end the discussion so we can move on to other activities, if you prefer.”

Yes.

The word popped into her head unbidden.
 
She’d put off giving him a definitive answer for weeks now, unwilling to repeat her original response of, “I can’t imagine an answer other than no” precisely because she
could
imagine it.
 
She’d hoped some magic moment would push her one way or the other.
 
The idea of marriage to Stefano seemed so monumental.
 
Larger than the two of them.
 
Yet deep in her soul, she knew she didn’t belong with anyone else and never would.
 
Fate, kismet, whatever it was that led him back to her after so many years, being with Stefano felt amazing both then and now.
 
No other man stirred her this way, and though he didn’t say the words she longed to hear, she suspected he felt the same about her.
 

But could it last?
 

It struck her then that
that
was why she’d procrastinated.
 
She’d worried Stefano’s visits would stop once they became inconvenient.
 
He’d lose interest in her or in making them a true family.
 
Real life in Sarcaccia would cause his enthusiasm for weekend trips to wane.
 

She’d wanted him to prove himself.
 
After all her years alone, she didn’t want risk being hurt.
 
But would she hurt herself more by
not
taking a risk?
 
If nothing else, being followed on the beach should teach her one thing:
 
She couldn’t live in limbo forever.

“Your brain is working too hard,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and melding his body to hers.

That pulled a laugh from her.
 
“I was thinking that these last few weekends have been wonderful.”

“I told you we could make this work.”
 
Before she could argue with whether
make it work
was the proper standard for considering marriage, his gaze softened.
 
“I know we’re not exactly living in the real world.
 
I can’t hide under a baseball hat all the time and you can’t hide our relationship from your coworkers, given that you live where you work.
 
But what’s important is that we make this work between
us
.
 
You and me.
 
If that happens, the rest will fall into place.
 
I believe that with all my heart.”

With that simple word,
us
, he addressed one of her biggest fears.
 
Perhaps he did want her for her, and for what the two of them could be together, rather than because she was the mother of his child.

A plaintive beep sounded from one of the kitchen stools, where she’d dropped her handbag after returning from the beach.
 
She ignored it and smoothed her hand over the front of Stefano’s shirt, feeling the firm muscle and strong heartbeat beneath her fingertips.
 

Stefano was larger than life, yet so very human.
 
If she chose the path he offered, which part would dictate her life?
 
The prince or the man?
 
She leaned into him, absorbing his heat as she touched her lips to the spot her fingers explored.
 
All she had to do was say a single word and her world would change.
 

Take the leap.
 
Trust him.
 
Trust yourself.
 
As Stefano said, the rest would fall into place.
 

She smiled against Stefano’s chest, remembering that those were the exact words her mother used when Megan discovered she was pregnant with Anna.
 
She’d tearfully informed her mother that she couldn’t comprehend balancing motherhood, graduate school, and a career that hadn’t even started.
 
She’d never forget her mother’s straightforward response.

Love the child.
 
The rest will fall into place.
 
Her mother repeated that mantra several times during Anna’s bouts of colic.
 
While there’d been a tough period of adjustment, eventually, her mother had been proven right.
 
The rest had fallen into place.
 
Now Megan couldn’t imagine what life would’ve been like without Anna, nor did she want to.

It could be the same with Stefano, if she let it.
 
She couldn’t imagine life without him.
 
Not anymore.

She swallowed hard.
 
What she said in the next breath would change her life forever.

When Megan’s cell phone emitted a second beep, Stefano pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
 
“I hate to say it, but should you get that in case it’s Anna?”

Despite reminders, Anna probably forgot her toothbrush or pajamas.
 
“Wouldn’t be surprised.
 
Her timing is terrible.”

She reluctantly left his embrace to fetch her phone.
 
She frowned at the screen, which displayed Ramon’s office number.
 
“It’s the hotel manager.”

Stefano gestured for her to take the call.
 

“Good afternoon, Megan,” came the familiar voice.
 
“I hate to interrupt your weekend, but are you on the premises?”

“Yes.”
 
He wouldn’t need her in the hotel on a Sunday unless it was urgent.
 
Perhaps Santi’s attempt to locate her earlier was related.
 
“Is there a problem?”
 

“No problem, but would you mind coming to my office?
 
Mr. Gladwell is here from the UK and we have something important to discuss with you.
 
Shouldn’t take longer than ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Of course.”
 
She glanced at Stefano, who had crossed the room to pull a large manila envelope from his overnight bag, which was tucked alongside the sofa.
 
“But I’m not dressed for—”

“You’re fine as you are.
 
We’ll see you shortly.”

She clicked off the phone and set it on the countertop.
 
So much for her conversation—and whatever else she’d been about to do—with Stefano.

“Trouble?”
 
Stefano asked as he tapped the envelope against his palm.

“I don’t think so.
 
The hotel’s owner is visiting from London.”
 
Her heart thrummed as she began to grasp the enormity of her next sentence.
 
“He’s in Ramon’s office.
 
They want to see me right away.”

“Jack Gladwell owns the Grandspire, doesn’t he?”
 
Stefano didn’t hide his surprise at her reference to the world-famous billionaire.
 
“Were you expecting him?”

“Yes.
 
And no.
 
I mean, I’ve certainly never been invited to meet with him before.
 
He usually swoops in and out without telling a soul.
 
I’d hoped he’d attend the grand reopening, but his sister’s wedding was the same weekend.”
 
Suddenly flustered, she swept a hand along her casual sundress and flip flops.
 
“Ramon told me not to change, but I’ll at least slip into slacks.”
 

She took a step toward her bedroom, then stopped.
 
“I’m sorry, Stefano.
 
We were talking about—”

“Don’t worry about it.
 
I’ll have my car service come now.”
 
He flipped the envelope so she couldn’t see what was printed on the front.
 
“From what I understand, Jack Gladwell isn’t free with his time.
 
We can talk next weekend.”

She wanted to finish their conversation today, wherever it led.
 
Another week would fray her last nerve.
 
Plus, now she was curious about the contents of Stefano’s envelope.
 
She had the feeling it was meant for her.
 

“They said it’d only take ten or fifteen minutes, so figure thirty at the most.
 
You’re welcome to wait here.”
 
It was all she could do not to add a begging
please
to the end of the sentence.
 
She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
 
She’d be damned if she let a random cameraman or even a billionaire stop her from telling Stefano what she felt.
 
She was ready to take the leap.

He turned to sit on the sofa, sliding the envelope back into his bag as he did so.
 
“In that case, I’ll see you in a half hour.”

* * *

On first glance, few people would recognize Jack Gladwell as one of the richest, most business-savvy men in the world.
 
With ruffled blond hair worn in a style slightly longer than was fashionable, tanned skin, and windburned cheeks, he looked as if he’d just stepped off a boat.
 
A light coating of freckles dusted arms sufficiently muscular to haul crates or fishing lines with ease, and his casually untucked gray button-down shirt, jeans, and well-worn loafers added to his relaxed appearance.
 

However, on second glance, Jack Gladwell left no doubts about his abilities.
 
His wide stance and straight spine betrayed the type of inner confidence a man gained only through experience and repeated, hard-won success.
 
Despite his crooked smile, a sharp intelligence filled his gaze.
 
He appeared able to size up a person in a few seconds and use that information to his advantage.
 
As Megan entered Ramon’s spacious office, Jack Gladwell stood near the panoramic window, seemingly oblivious to the stunning view behind him as he turned that assessing gaze toward Megan.