Prince of a Guy (12 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

BOOK: Prince of a Guy
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14

A
FTER A VERY LONG WEEK
,
Princess Carlyne—and she was finally getting used to hearing people call her that again—slipped out of her clothes and into the bathtub, grateful for some time to herself.

She took great pride in her charity benefits, of which there’d been four this week, but they weren’t enough for her. France was no longer enough for her, and neither was Spain.

Truth was, she didn’t have to attend each and every one of these events personally. With a computer and a phone, she could be stationed anywhere.

Even Santa Barbara, California.

Assuming, of course, she had a reason to be there. Which she didn’t.

That left a little dilemma. A little dilemma that would be getting bigger and bigger, because the stick had turned blue. In all four kits she tried.

Pregnant.

Equal parts joy and terror washed through her, and she leaned back in the tub, letting the bubbles and hot water relax her. As if that were possible.

Whether Sean wanted to talk to her or not, she had to tell him.

Determined to keep relaxed, she reached for the stack of newspapers she’d left on a stool next to the tub.

The
Washington Post
didn’t intrigue her. Nor did the
Los Angeles Times.
She tossed away the
New York Times,
as well, and even knowing it would kill her, she reached for the much smaller Santa Barbara paper.

The memory of Sean’s nanny ad made her mouth curve and her throat burn, but as was her habit, she skimmed the columns anyway…and abruptly sat up in shock.

Her gasp echoed against the tile and bounced back to her. She jerked the paper closer and read again.

“Wanted—What I was stupid enough to let go. A warm, funny, loving, intelligent, gorgeous caretaker for my heart and soul. Come back, Carly. Please come back.”

Her heart had stopped, just stopped. Now it started again with a rapid beat. Her stomach sizzled with nerves.

Or maybe that was morning sickness.

He wanted her back?

And what would he say when he learned it was no longer just her, that she was carrying a baby?
Their
baby.

 

S
EAN STOOD
by the pool. His stress level dictated a swim, but lately doing laps had lost its appeal.

Inside, his doorbell rang, and he sighed. He had no idea if it was the courier bringing him a crucial set of plans or the pizza he’d ordered, but the swim would have to wait.

Flipping through his wallet, he opened the door, distracted by the fact that he had far less cash than he thought, which meant Melissa had picked him nearly clean last night before he’d caught her playing with his wallet.

He shuddered to think of her in another few years even as he smiled fondly at her audacity. Watch out, world.

“Sean.”

At the unbearably familiar, soft, feminine voice, Sean looked up, sure he’d been hearing things, because no way could Carly be standing there delivering his pizza.

No pizza, but she
was
most definitely standing there, with her sleek blond hair and gorgeous green eyes. She wore hardly
any makeup, revealing her elegant, beautiful features and her clothes fit her willowy curves.

For a ridiculous moment he stared at her, certain he’d conjured her up.

She stared back.

Then normal daytime sounds broke the silence. A car revving. A bird in a tree.

Mrs. Trykowski humming from the other side of the fence, probably at this very moment climbing a tree to spy on them.

“Hi,” Carly finally whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice rough with the knot of emotion stuck in his windpipe.

“You’re…not wearing much.”

He looked at himself and realized he stood there in only his swimming trunks.

Her eyes ran over him hungrily, like a caress, and he felt his body tighten. He was afraid to hope, was his first thought, and his second was, would she care if he just grabbed her and hauled her close?

It wasn’t easy to reconcile this worldly woman, the one he’d seen on television and in the papers, with the more whimsical, earthy woman he’d lived with for weeks.

“I’m very glad to see you,” he said in the understatement of the year.

She stood very, very still. “Are you sure, Sean? Because the last time I saw you, we—”


Very
sure.” Did he invite her in, he wondered, or just ravish her on the spot, Mrs. Trykowski be damned?

Carlyne took the matter entirely out of his hands by losing all the color in her face. Weaving slightly, she reached for the doorway.

Sean tried to grab her, but she shook him off. “I’m okay.”

No, she wasn’t. No one that white could be okay. “What’s the matter?” Urgency roughened his voice, but she didn’t answer. “Carly?”

When her eyes rolled back in her head, he grabbed her.

“Don’t,” she murmured as he scooped her up. “I can walk.” But her head lolled against his chest.

“Shh.” He couldn’t talk and carry her—he felt absurdly weak with worry. She’d lost weight, and right now her skin was nearly transparent.

What was wrong?

Kicking the front door shut, he stood there, reluctant to let go of her now that he finally had her in his arms.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Yeah. So fine, you’re blacking out.”

“Honest, I can walk—”

Ignoring her, he settled her on the couch.

“You’re white as a ghost, Carly,” he said as lightly as he could with his heart in his throat. “You look awful.”

“Thanks.” She closed her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” He sank to his knees on the floor and put a hand on her hip. “Are you sick?”

Turning away, she curled into a little ball. Her hair fell away from her neck, making her look all the more miserable and vulnerable. “I’m just not feeling well.”

“The flu?” he demanded.

“Feels like it,” she muttered, and when he slid his hand up her body to feel her forehead, which was not warm, but terribly clammy, she lifted her own to cover his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “I want to talk, we
need
to talk, but…”

Her voice trailed off, and unable to help himself, he stroked his hand down her slim spine. “It’s okay.”

“It was a long trip, and I couldn’t sleep. I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, so softly he had to lean forward to hear her. “I’m so sorry about not telling you the truth, Sean.
Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you, I just needed to escape and—”

“Shh.” His throat was tight because, dammit,
he
should be the one apologizing. When she let out a little shiver, he ran for a blanket.

“Talk to me,” she said softly when he covered her. “Tell me…stuff.” She slurred her words, as if she was so tired she couldn’t talk.

“Carly, you’re scaring me. I’m going to call a doctor.”

Eyes still closed, she grabbed his wrist. “No, it was a long trip, that’s all. A couple of connections got canceled. I just…need to rest a moment.”

He stared at her very,
very
pale face, a face he would recognize anywhere, and wondered for the thousandth time how he could have missed it. “It’s okay, it can all wait.”

“Talk to me,” she murmured again. “Please?”

Talk to her.
The chance he’d wanted. But where to start?

From the beginning.

“Well, you know about my desperate nanny ad,” he said, relieved to see a ghost of a smile touch her lips, though she was careful not to move an inch otherwise.

Sinking to the floor at her side, he stroked
her hair from her face. “At first, I didn’t know what to expect. I just wanted someone to take Melissa off my hands.”

She made a noise that perfectly conveyed sympathy—for Melissa.

“I know,” he said shaking his head at himself. “I was a terrible uncle. All that mattered was being able to work. But work was my life, Carly, it was all that I had, all that ever mattered.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I know.”

“No, it’s not okay. I let you and Melissa think you weren’t as important as my work. My family…they were all workaholics, you see, and that’s what I learned. Work, work, work. That only success matters. But they were wrong, Carly. Very wrong.”

She was so still, and again he slid his hand down her body, the warm curves so familiar he ached. She stirred slightly, arching into his hand, wordlessly telling him how much she liked his touch.

“Melissa didn’t care about my work,” he said quietly. “She just wanted me.
Me,
” he said, marveling, shaking his head with wonder. “And then you came into our lives like a whirlwind….” He stared at his hand on her narrow waist. “I took one look at you,
Carly, and knew. I knew what you would mean to me, and it scared me to death.”

She remained perfectly still, eyes closed.


Everything
about you scared me to death,” he admitted softly. “That’s why I didn’t let you explain, because if I did, I’d have to understand, and if I understood that, I’d have to go the rest of the way and admit the truth.” He held his breath, waiting for a sign that this was something she’d wanted to hear.

But she didn’t move.

“I fell in love with you, Carly.”

She was utterly, completely still, and so was his heart.

“It’s not some line,” he said quickly. “Believe me, I’ve never felt like this before.”

Still nothing.

And he was dying. “Carly? Are you still upset? I want to hear what you have to say, but I want you to know it doesn’t matter, none of it. I’ll feel this way about you for the rest of my life, no matter what.”

Not even a tremor.

Surging to his knees, he bent over her, needing a response, even if it was for her to laugh in his face. He got a response all right—a soft snuffle. A snore.

She’d fallen fast and deep asleep.

15

A
SLEEP
!
Sitting on his heels, Sean had to let out a choked laugh. He’d just poured his heart out for the first time ever, telling a woman his true feelings, and she’d slept through the entire thing.

Definitely tough on the ego.

Carly was on her side, facing away from him, but he couldn’t miss how exhausted she was. It showed in every line of the body he’d missed so much.

She wasn’t well, and no matter what she said, it worried him. There were shadows under her eyes, marring her pale skin. One of her hands was tucked beneath her cheek. The other covered her belly in a protective gesture that told him she must have a stomachache. Probably the flu, the poor baby. Her breathing came deep and slow, her mouth in a stressed frown that tore at him.

He was dying to know what had brought her back. Had she missed him? Was it pos
sible? Or had his ad brought her here? But everything would have to wait.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning close to softly kiss her temple. “Sleep. Get better. Everything else can wait.”

At that, she let out a shuddering sigh, and her entire body relaxed. Then her hand, the one clutched to her belly, unfisted as she fell into deeper sleep. And out of her fingers fell a folded piece of paper.

He unfolded the torn, dog-eared piece of newsprint, and his heart caught yet again.

It was his ad.

 

C
ARLY AWOKE SLOWLY
, purposely lying completely still, having gotten used to her world spinning out of control for those first few shaky moments of awareness.

Then she remembered. She wasn’t at home in her own bed, where she could reach for crackers and feel the overwhelming loneliness that life had brought in the past few weeks.

She remembered the ad, remembered grabbing nothing more than her purse and racing for the airport. She remembered calling Francesca from her cell phone with a brief explanation and being cheerfully told to “go for it”.

She remembered having to make several connections, fearing she’d never make it. It had been a nightmare. She hadn’t been able to eat properly, and all the stress had sapped her strength.

By the time she’d shown up on Sean’s doorstep, she’d been only a moment away from passing out, and humiliating as it had been, she’d never been happier to see anyone in her entire life.

Then she’d fallen asleep on him.

She’d been all set to woo Sean, to do whatever it took to make him happy about the baby, and what had she done?

Passed out cold.

She groaned, and a firm, warm hand slid over her cheek. “Ah, she lives,” his deep voice was very close.

She could hear relief, anxiety and something more, so she opened her eyes to be sure, and yes, he was smiling at her, but she didn’t know if it was because she was there, or if he was just happy she hadn’t thrown up on him.

Then she realized she was in his spare bedroom, and the wee light coming through the windows looked suspiciously like early morning light. Had she—

“Yep. Slept all night,” he told her. “Just like a baby.”

Her gaze jerked to his.
Did he know?

“I made you some tea because I didn’t know if you’d want to eat. The flu, I’d guess?”

She could eat a horse, she was so ravenous. And if she didn’t eat soon, she’d turn green again, and maybe throw up on him, after all.

“Have you been sick long?”

“No,” she said, her voice husky from the first good night’s sleep she’d had since she left California.

He hadn’t taken her to
his
bedroom last night, she noticed, which made her wonder if she’d somehow missed the meaning of his ad.

How to tell him? Where to start? The love part, she decided, she’d start with the love part. Holding her breath, she stared at him, hoping she wouldn’t ruin everything by blurting it out, that he wouldn’t feel trapped. “Sean…”

“Carly.” A teasing light came into his eyes. “We remember each others’ names. That’s nice.”

When she didn’t return the smile, his
faded. “I’m sorry. I make stupid jokes when I’m nervous.”

She gaped at him. “Why are
you
nervous?”

“I’m thinking that any second here you’re going to tell me you’ve got to go.”

It was the opening she needed, and she fumbled for the newspaper clipping she’d been holding, but it wasn’t in her hands or by her bed.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” He held out the tattered ad.

She took it, though she had the words memorized. “You asked me to come back,” she whispered, clutching it to her chest.

“Yes.”

“To be the caretaker of your heart and soul.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Sean. I can’t keep this in anymore.” She spoke at the speed of light before she could lose her nerve. “I was dying for you. I know you never wanted another commitment, but I’ve never been as happy as I was taking care of Melissa and being with you. I don’t want to scare you off, or ruin anything, and I don’t know why you wrote that ad, but the truth is—” She drew in a long, hard breath. “I love you.” The air whooshed
out of her, and though it was hard to talk without breathing, she couldn’t draw another breath. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

He reached out and cupped her face. “Oh, Carly.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it in any longer, even if you don’t feel the same way. And that’s not all, Sean, I’ve—”

“I love you, too,” he said, eyes shining. “I told you so last night, sweetheart. If you hadn’t fallen asleep on me, you would have heard it yourself.”

Her heart surged painfully against the walls of her chest. For a second she was afraid she’d heard him wrong, but his smile was different, special, and those eyes of his were wet. “You love me,” she whispered, touching his face.

“Yes, with all my heart and soul. I’ve been trying to reach you. You’re harder to get ahold of than the President.”

“Is…is that why you placed the ad?”

He stretched out beside her, pulled her close. “Pretty desperate, huh?”

“I loved it.” She had to laugh. “I can’t believe it. The most wonderful man in the world tells me he loves me, and I sleep
through it.” She pulled back. “There’s a reason I was so sleepy, Sean.”

“You’ve been sick.”

“No. Well, yes, but it’s not what you think.”

He sobered quickly, and if she thought his eyes brilliant before, it was nothing to what happened now. “What’s wrong?”

“Sean, I want to live with you.”

“Yes. God, yes.”

Her breath caught at the vehemence in his voice. “Here, in Santa Barbara.”

“I want to marry you, Carly. I don’t care where. I just want to be with you. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I miss Melissa,” she blurted. “She should be here.”

“We’ll call her. And someday we’ll have our own family. Now tell me what’s the matter.”

She covered her mouth as a laugh escaped, then swiped at her sudden tears.

“Carly, you’re terrifying me.” With a gentleness that only caused more tears, he slid his thumb over her cheek, catching a tear-drop. “Please, tell me.”

“Well…about that someday child thing.” She meant to laugh but cried instead. “It’s not so far down the road.”

His hand went still on her face. “You mean…”

“Yes.” Taking his other hand, she placed it on her belly. “We can have it all right now,” she whispered, her voice cracking at the look of utter love and heat and fascination in his gaze. “Heart and soul.”

“Heart and soul,” he repeated, kissing her hard. “Heart and soul.”

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