The Prince's Secret Baby Page 14

  “Well, all right,” she said. “I guess I can’t argue with success. But I do have a couple more questions.”

  “Ask.”

  “Do we have to marry in the church in order for you to keep your inheritance?”

  “No. The heir must marry in the church. The rest of us are only required to be legally wed before the age of thirty-three. But, should I become the heir—which is most unlikely at this point—you and I would have to take steps for a church-sanctioned marriage. That would not be complicated, as neither of us has been married before.”

  “Do you want us to be married in the church?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “I do, yes.”

  “Good answer.” She slid her hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck. “I want that, too.”

  “Then we shall take the necessary steps to make it happen as soon as we’re settled in Montedoro.”

  “Agreed. I think we should seal it with a kiss.”

  “Beyond a doubt, we should.”

  So they kissed. A long, slow one. The kiss led to more kisses and then to the usual stimulating conclusion.

  Rule told her again to go sleep.

  She said, “Soon.”

  And then they talked for another hour about everything from the success of his plan to sell Montedoran oranges to a number of exclusive outlets in the U.S., to why his brother Alex and Princess Lili had never gotten along. Alex, Rule said, had always thought Lili was silly and shallow; Lili considered Alex to be overly brooding and grim, with a definite tendency toward overbearing self-importance.

  Sydney learned that his brother Max’s son was named Nicholas and Max’s little girl was Constance. And Rule told her that in his great-grandfather’s day, the economy of Montedoro was almost solely dependent on gambling revenues. His grandfather and his mother had made a point to expand the principality’s economic interests beyond its traditional gambling base.

  “Now,” he said, “gambling accounts for only four percent of our nation’s annual revenues.”

  She reminded him that he knew all about Ryan and Peter. But other than Liliana, she knew nothing of the women who had mattered in his life.

  “You already know that I admire my mother,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  “Your mother and your sisters don’t count. I’m talking love affairs, Rule. You know that I am.”

  So he told her about the Greek heiress he’d loved when he was fourteen. “She had an absolutely adorable space between her two front teeth and she spoke with a slight lisp and she intended to run away to America and become a musical theater star.”

  “Did she?”

  “Unfortunately, she was tone deaf. I heard her sing once. Once was enough.”

  “Destroyed your undying love for her, did it?”

  “I was young and easily distracted. Especially when it came to love.” He spoke of the girl he’d met in a Paris café when he was eighteen. And of an Irish girl he’d met in London. “Black hair, blue eyes. And a temper. A hot one. At first, I found her temper exciting. But in time it grew tiresome.”

  “Luckily there were any number of actresses and models just waiting for their chance with you.”

  “You make me sound like a Casanova.”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “No. I was not. Yes, I’ve spent time with a number of women, but seduction for its own sake has never interested me. I was…looking for someone. The right someone.” He lowered his head until their noses touched. “You.”

  Her heart did that melty thing. “Oh, Rule…”

  He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips—sweet, brushing kisses. “Will you please go to sleep now?” He tucked the covers closer around her. “Close your eyes…”

  And she did.

  * * *

  The next day was Saturday. Sydney left Rule having breakfast with Trevor and Lani and spent the morning at the office, where things were pretty quiet and she got a lot done.

  She returned home at lunchtime and spent the rest of the day with Rule and her son and her best friend. She and Rule went out to dinner that night and then, at home, made slow, wonderful love. They fell asleep with their arms wrapped around each other. Her last thought before she drifted off was that she had it all now. Her life was exactly as she’d once dreamed it might be.

  Sunday she stayed home, too. She and Rule took Trevor to the park in the morning. She watched Rule pushing Trev on the swings and thought how already they seemed like father and son. Trev adored him. It was “Roo” this and “Roo” that. The feeling was clearly mutual. Rule seemed to dote on Trev. He never tired of listening to Trev babble on about the things that mattered to a curious two-year-old.

  And an older lady, a woman there with her grandson, leaned close to Sydney when they sat on the bench together. “Your boy looks just like his daddy.”

  Sydney smiled at the woman. “He does, doesn’t he?”

  Later, at lunch, Trev was back into his knock-knock jokes. He and Rule played a never-ending game of them until Sydney put her hands over her ears and begged them to stop.

  Trev laughed. “Mama says, ‘No more knock-knock!’”

  Rule piped up with, “Mama says, ‘Touch your nose.’” He touched his nose and then Trev, delighted, touched his. And Rule said, “Mama says, ‘Rub your tummy.’” They both rubbed their tummies.

  Trev caught on about then and they were off on the “Mama” version of Simon Says. Sydney laughed along with them.

  The woman at the park had been right. And Lani had noticed the resemblance, too. They were so much alike, really. They even had mannerisms in common—the way they each tipped their head, a little to the left, when thoughtful. Even the way they smiled was similar—slow and dazzling.

  Sydney supposed it wasn’t all that surprising, how much Trev resembled his new stepdad. The sperm donor she’d chosen had a lot of characteristics in common with Rule—hair and eye color, height and build. And the similarities weren’t only physical. The donor had an advanced degree in business and enjoyed travel and sports. And the description of him compiled by the staff at the cryobank? All about how charming and handsome and bright and dynamic he was. How well-spoken and articulate, a born leader and a good listener. His profile also said that family was important to him and he believed in marriage, that he felt it could and should last a lifetime.

  She’d selected that particular donor mostly because he sounded like the kind of man she’d given up on finding. After all, a woman hopes her child might inherit traits that she admires.

  A little shiver skittered up her spine as she watched her son and Rule together and compared her husband with the man who had supplied half of her child’s DNA. Life could be so strange and amazing. Really, she’d chosen her own personal fantasy man as her sperm donor, not even realizing that he was destined to materialize in the flesh and promptly sweep her off her feet into their very own happy-ever-after—let alone that he would so quickly become a doting father to her son.

  That Sunday was sunny and clear, with a high in the mid-eighties, a little warm for mid-April. It was a great day for splashing around in the pool—which they did as soon as Trevor woke up from his nap. Later, Lani made dinner, a fabulous Greek-style shrimp scampi.

  Monday it was off to work again. Rule showed up at a little after eleven. Sydney introduced him around the office and two of the partners were only too happy to join them for lunch at the Mansion.

  It was a working lunch, and a very productive one. By the end of it, Rule had set up three dinner dates where he would introduce her colleagues to more potential clients. After lunch, he returned to the house and she went back to work.

  Their days fell into a certain rhythm. The office owned her during the long weekdays, but she spent her nights with her new husband and managed to get most of the weekend free to be with Trevor, too. Rule spent a lot of time with her son and the growing bond between the man and the boy was something special to see. Rule would play with him for hours d
uring the day and read him his bedtime stories most nights.

  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 alik
e.”

  He kissed her lips, a brushing kiss, his breath so warm 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.