The Prince's Cinderella Bride Read online

  “Don’t boss me around.” She faked an angry scowl.

  He took the shawl collar of the robe in both hands and tenderly kissed the end of her nose. “Please.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she grumbled.

  “I just want a yes out of you.”

  “You always want a yes out of me.”

  He couldn’t resist. He buried his nose against her neck, sucked in the wonderful scent of her shower-moist skin and growled, “So give me what I want.”

  She laughed and playfully pushed him away—and then stiffened, her laughter catching on a gasp. Turning, Max followed the direction of her startled gaze.

  Nick was standing in the doorway, watching them.

  Chapter Seven

  A few choice obscenities scrolled through Max’s brain.

  How long had Nick been there? What exactly had he seen?

  A teasing embrace. A kiss on the neck.

  Nothing that traumatic, surely.

  “Nicky.” Max managed to keep his tone even and easy. “What is it?”

  Nick just went on staring, his face flushed scarlet.

  Max tried again. “Nicky?”

  Nick opened his mouth and said in a rush, “Marceline said to tell you the doctor’s here.” And then he ducked from the doorway and vanished from sight.

  Max called after him, “Nicky!”

  Lani touched his shoulder. He turned back to her and she suggested softly, “You’d better go after him and make sure he’s all right.”

  “Lani, I...” He let the words trail off, mostly because he felt like the world’s biggest idiot. What was he thinking, grabbing her like that with the door wide open?

  “Go on,” she said. “Check on Nick. Deal with the doctor.”

  He dared to touch that sweet loose curl again. “I’ve made a complete balls up of this, haven’t I?”

  At least she smiled. “It’s not the end of the world. Go on. I’ll be fine here.”

  * * *

  He went to the foyer first.

  Dr. Montaigne, who’d been curing the ills of the princely family for decades, waited in a carved mahogany hall chair, his old-school black bag on his lap. He jumped up when Max appeared.

  Max greeted him and led him back to Connie’s room.

  Connie knew the doctor. He always took care of her when she was sick. “Dr. Montaigne,” she said gravely. “I’ve been very sick and it was very sudden and I threw up all over Nanny Lani.”

  Old Montaigne set his bag by the bed. “Well, well, young lady. Let’s have a look at you, shall we?”

  “Will you check me with your stethoscope?”

  “Excellent idea. We’ll start with that.”

  Max edged close to Gerta. “I’ll be back. I need a moment with Nicky...” He ducked out as the old doctor started taking Connie’s vital signs.

  Max found his son in the first place he looked—Nick’s room. The door was wide open and he was lying on his bed with his tablet computer. Max stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, a cautious feeling of relief moving through him.

  Nick hadn’t run off somewhere to hide. He’d just gone to his room. And he’d even left his door open. Surely that was a good sign.

  Max knocked on the door frame.

  Nick glanced at him—and went right back to his game. It was hardly an invitation to talk. On the other hand, he hadn’t asked Max to leave him alone.

  Max dared to enter. He went to the bed and sat carefully on the edge of it. Nick went on playing his game. Lego figures drove an armored car wildly through a Lego city. Max watched a chain of vehicles careen across the screen and tried to come up with a credible opening.

  All he could think of was, “Nicky...”

  Nick played on, kicking his stocking feet against the coverlet as he manipulated the armored car on the screen. But then, finally, he did say, “What?”

  “I...want to talk to you about...” God in heaven, how to even begin? He’d never realized before what a terrible father he was. On any number of levels. “...about Nanny Lani and me in the bathroom.” He tried not to wince as the words came out of his mouth. One day he would rule Montedoro. Right now, he didn’t even know how to talk to his son.

  Nick tossed the tablet aside and sat up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. For a moment, Max was sure he would leap to the floor and run off again. But instead he kicked his heels against the side of the mattress and accused, “You said she was coming for breakfast.”

  “That’s right. And she did.”

  “I thought that was kind of weird, Nanny Lani coming to breakfast in Grandmother’s apartment with us.”

  “Because she isn’t part of our family?”

  “Well, she’s not.” He kicked the mattress for emphasis. “And nannies don’t come and eat with the family.”

  “Sometimes they do. Sometimes Gerta eats with us in the kitchen.”

  “That’s different than Sunday breakfast. You know that it is.”

  “Nick, I...I happen to like Lani. I like her very much.” Was this going well? He guessed not.

  “Papa.” A swift, angry glare. “You were kissing her neck.” He seemed to suppress a shudder. “And she’s not even a nanny anymore, really. Trev told me so.”

  “It’s true she’s not taking care of Trevor and Ellie anymore. She has another job now. She writes books. And I...well, Nick, I like her very much.”

  Nick stared straight ahead. “You already said that once,” he muttered. “I heard you the first time, you know.”

  “You’re right. I said it twice because I want you to know that Lani is important to me and that’s why I kissed her.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “Yes. That is exactly what she is.”

  Silence from Nicky. He kicked his feet some more. Max gritted his teeth and waited for his son to speak of Sophia, to say how he missed her and no other woman better try to take her place.

  What was Max going to say to that? He had nothing. Zero. He was dealing with this on the fly and he knew he wasn’t up to the challenge. As a rule, he liked to plan ahead before tackling sensitive subjects with the children. Frantically, he cast about for something brilliant and fatherly to contribute, all about how of course, Lani wouldn’t be taking Sophia’s place. Sophia was Nicky’s mother and always would be.

  Was that completely self-evident and painfully obvious? He had a sinking feeling it was.

  Then Nick said, “So. Since Connie got sick, I guess we don’t have to go to Sunday breakfast, after all.”

  Max said nothing. He was too busy trying to decide if he should bring up the subject of Sophia.

  “Papa? Did you hear me?”

  “Erm, yes, I did. And no, we won’t be going to Sunday breakfast this week.”

  “But next week we will?”

  “Next week, yes.”

  Nick grew thoughtful. Would he speak of his mother now? Max prepared himself to provide gentle fatherly reassurance. Finally, Nicky said, “Sunday breakfast isn’t that bad. It’s just that I’m the oldest. Lately, Connie is always wearing dresses and playing with her dolls. And Trev is okay, but I mean, he’s only four. And the rest of them are babies.” All right. Nothing about Sophia. Should he just let it go? “Papa, there’s just no one to play with at Sunday breakfast.”

  “Sometimes you have to go places where there’s no one to play with.”

  “Yuck.”

  Max couldn’t bear this. He had to say something. “Nick, I just want you to know that your mother loved you very much and she will always be your mother. No one could ever take her place.”

  Nick sent him a look of great patience. “I know that.”

  “Well, good. Wonderful.” He waited, but Nick said no more.
So he prompted, “And...is there anything more you’d like me to explain to you about Lani and me?”

  Nicky’s brow furrowed. “You never had a girlfriend before.”

  “Does that bother you, that I have one now?”

  He thought some more. “It’s okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Papa, why do I have to keep telling you things over and over again?” He spoke with more inflection now, and rolled his hand in a circle for emphasis.

  Max took heart. The animated Nicky he knew and loved was back. Apparently he wasn’t scarred for life, after all. “Sorry. Anything more you need to know from me?”

  “Well, if she’s not Nanny Lani anymore, what I am s’posed to call her?”

  “What would you like to call her?” Was that a dangerous question to ask an eight-year-old boy? Too late now.

  “Um. Miss Lani maybe?”

  Not bad. Max hooked an arm around his son. “That sounds just fine to me.”

  “Yeah.” Nick leaned into Max’s hold and swung his feet some more. “Miss Lani. I think that’s good.” Max nodded. For a moment, the two of them just sat there, together, as Nick kicked his heels against the bed. Then Nick said, “Where is Miss Lani?”

  And that reminded him that he’d left her in the bathroom and he’d better get moving. “She’s still here. And right now, I need to go and see what the doctor says about how Connie’s doing. Do you want to come with me?”

  Nick looked up at him. He could see echoes of Sophia in the bow of his mouth, the tilt of his nose. “Do you think she’s going to puke again?” His eyes gleamed with eagerness. Nick found bodily functions endlessly fascinating.

  “Let’s hope not.” Max got up. “Are you coming?”

  Nick slid off the bed, put on his shoes and went with him.

  In Connie’s room, Dr. Montaigne was finishing up. “She should rest for the day,” he instructed. “Give her liquids, starting with a half glass of juice or a little clear broth. If that stays down, she can have more....” The old guy droned on. Max listened and nodded and promised to call if Connie took a turn for the worse.

  Then Connie started in about how she felt “all better” and wanted French toast. Max left Gerta to the job of keeping her in bed for a while. He needed to send the doctor on his way and get back to Lani, who’d been sitting in the bathroom for at least half an hour since the last time he left her in there.

  What a disaster. He’d probably never get her to come near the apartment or either of his children ever again.

  They had to walk past the bathroom on the way to the door. He glanced in and there she was, perched patiently on the edge of the tub, reading a magazine Marceline must have found for her, that tempting curl of hair brushing the collar of his robe. She spotted him with the doctor and Nick, and waved him on.

  And he realized he couldn’t bear to leave her there another minute. It just wasn’t right. He turned to Nicky. “Nicholas, will you see the doctor the rest of the way out?”

  “Yes! And then I want to eat because I am starving.”

  “Once you show the doctor out, find Marceline. Ask her to order up breakfast for us.”

  “Yes, I will! This way, Dr. Montaigne.”

  “Thank you, young man.” He trotted off in Nicky’s wake.

  Max detoured into the bathroom.

  Apprehension in those big dark eyes, Lani set her magazine on the edge of the tub and stood. “How did it go with Nick?”

  He wanted to touch her. But no. He’d learned his lesson on that score. Anyone might go strolling by the bathroom at any time. “Overall, I think it went well. He says he has no problem with your being my girlfriend. And he’s decided to call you Miss Lani now. Trevor told him that you’re not a nanny anymore.”

  “I’m glad he’s all right. What about Connie?”

  “She says she wants French toast.”

  Lani laughed. She really did have a fine laugh, rich and husky and full out. “She’ll be back to normal in no time.” She straightened the robe. “I had Marceline call for a driver to go to my place for clean clothes. He’ll be here any minute to pick up my key.”

  “Good.”

  Nick materialized in the doorway and announced, “Marceline says she has enough food in the little kitchen to make us breakfast.” The main kitchen was downstairs and served regular meals for palace guests and residents alike. But the apartment had its own small galley kitchen, too. “She said to ask is that all right with you?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.”

  “Good. She can cook it fast so that I don’t die from hunger.” He put his arms out in front of him and made monster sounds.

  Lani laughed.

  Nick grew suddenly shy. “Um. Hi, Miss Lani.”

  “Hello, Nick.”

  He glanced hopefully at Max. “Marceline said she’ll make toast with strawberry jam.”

  “Go on then,” Max said, and Nick darted off, leaving him alone with Lani. Again, he reminded himself that he wasn’t going to touch her, not even to tug on that sweet loose curl. “There’s really no reason for you to stay in this bathroom. Come on to the kitchen, have something to eat.”

  She straightened the robe again. “It’s only...it’s strange enough, not being the nanny anymore, everything changing, coming here to your palace apartment for the first time as, um, well, not as a nanny. And to end up like this...” She looked down at the robe. “It’s just awkward, you know?”

  “Everyone knows why you’re wearing a robe. And if it will make you feel better, Marceline or Gerta can loan you something until your clothes get here. Or I could scare up something else from my closet, I’m sure.”

  She aimed that soft chin high. “You know, you’re right. I shouldn’t make a big deal of this.” She got her purse from the chest in the corner. “Get me out of here.” And she held out her hand.

  A perfectly acceptable excuse to touch her. Wonderful. He wrapped his fingers around hers.

  * * *

  It turned out to be a really lovely morning after all, Lani thought.

  The driver came for her key a few minutes after they joined Nick and Marceline in the kitchen.

  They ate Marceline’s excellent French toast and were just finishing the food when the driver returned with the clothes she’d asked for. Marceline showed her to a spare room where she got out of Max’s robe at last and into a fresh skirt and sweater, comfy tights and a clean pair of shoes.

  As she was changing her cell rang. It was Sydney. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to breakfast with the family?”

  “Long story. Connie got sick. I think it was just something she ate, because she’s better already. But we ended up staying here, in Max’s apartment.”

  “Spending your Sunday with Max and the kids. This thing with you two is just moving right along.”

  “I can’t really talk now. Max is waiting.”

  “Are those wedding bells I hear?”

  “Knock it off, Syd.”

  With Sydney’s laughter echoing in her ear, Lani ended the call.

  By then, it was almost noon. She returned to the kitchen to find Max there alone. She joined him at the table. They drank too much coffee and discussed the finer points of Montedoro’s delicate relationship with France. Eventually, they went to Connie’s room to check on her. She was sitting up against the pillows, drinking apple juice and insisting that she was well enough to be out of bed.

  Max kissed her forehead and told her to rest a little longer.

  “But I’m all well!” Connie cried.

  Lani suggested a board game. They called Nick in and Gerta produced a game of Trouble, which Lani remembered playing when she was a kid. An hour flew by. They popped the dice in the board’s central “magic dome” and raced each other around the board.


  Nick won, which pleased him no end. He flexed his skinny arms and beat his chest and crowed, “I am the champion!”

  And then Connie yawned and admitted that maybe she was ready to take a little nap.

  Nick wanted to go out to the garden and play with his Nerf gun, so Gerta took him out. Lani and Max stayed in the apartment while Connie slept. They sat in the front sitting room and talked.

  It really was almost as it used to be, before New Year’s. They could talk for hours on any number of subjects.

  But then again, no. It was completely different than it used to be. Every time he looked at her, she knew it. They were much more than friends now.

  Syd could joke about wedding bells all she wanted, but Lani really didn’t know where this thing with Max was going. He was important to her, and he’d made it very clear that she mattered to him. But marriage? Neither of them was up for that.

  And why was she thinking about marriage, anyway? Why was she letting a few teasing remarks from Syd tie her all in knots about the future? After that disastrous foray into first love with Thomas all those years ago, she’d been playing it way too safe. She needed to take a few chances again. And now, at last, she was. Best to enjoy every moment and let the future take care of itself.

  Nick and Gerta came back inside. Connie woke up and Max allowed her to bring her dolls out and play quietly in the family sitting room next to the kitchen.

  Lani said she had to go. Max walked her out to the foyer.

  But when they got to the door, he took both her hands. “I don’t want you to go. Stay for dinner. It will only be us, you, me and the children.” Only us. She did like the sound of that. She liked it way too much. He kept on convincing her. “We’ll stay in, right here. I’ll have the meal sent up and Connie can take it easy.”

  It was just too tempting.

  She stayed. They ate early, in the kitchen, the four of them. Connie had soup and crackers and announced that it was the best soup she’d ever had and she didn’t feel one bit like throwing up.

  Lani got up to go again at seven. She said goodbye to Nick and Connie and Gerta.

  Marceline appeared with her gray skirt and blue blouse, good as new, pressed and on hangers, covered with plastic. “I’m so sorry about your shoes,” she said. “But there was no saving them.”