Scandal With a Prince (25 page)

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Authors: Nicole Burnham

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She wasn’t playing hard to get, as other women he’d been with liked to do.
 
Instead, she was doing exactly as she promised, allowing him the opportunity to spend time with his daughter.
 

So it was Anna’s hand he held under the glittering treetop lights.
 
It was for the best.

The more time he spent with Megan, the more impressed he became with all she’d accomplished.
 
He’d known she was a strong, independent woman before he’d even spoken to her.
 
When he first saw her walking in that alley in Venezuela, she’d been shouldering more pipe than most men would and doing it without complaint.
 
She’d allowed him to help her, but she hadn’t liked it.
 
He could tell she wasn’t the type who wanted to depend on others for anything.
 

If he pressured her now, she might view it as a challenge to her independence.
 
But if he could keep his distance, let her see for herself that he could be a good father to Anna and a good partner for her, perhaps she’d reconsider his offer of marriage.

He had to give up control.
 
Let her guide their relationship.

He also had to be patient.
 
Patience, however, was hard to come by when Megan sat shoulder to shoulder with him in the near dark.
 
As much as his brain told him to appeal to her logical side, his body craved an entirely different approach.

“She hasn’t crashed like this since she was a little girl.”
 
Megan shifted so Anna’s head rested more comfortably in her lap.
   

The three of them had selected spots in the grass near the fountain to wait for the show to start, with Anna asking Megan to sit in the middle, since that put Anna in a better position to see the fountain.
 
But as more couples and families filled the open space around them, Anna put her head down for “just a sec” and was out.
 

“It’s understandable.
 
She woke up early and walked a long way today.”

Stefano removed his amber sunglasses and propped them onto his tattered baseball hat so he could better see Megan.
 
He could feel divots on either side of his nose as a result of wearing glasses for more than twelve hours and his leg muscles ached from sitting cross-legged.
 
He wasn’t used to being in the midst of such a crowd outdoors and hadn’t counted on the discomfort of folding his legs under him.
 
To buy space, he leaned back and propped his hands behind him.
 

“Think she’ll wake up when it starts?” he asked.

“Hard to say.
 
Maybe.
 
It’s all right if you’d like to call it a night.”
 
She leaned forward to study Stefano’s face.
 
Her eyes clouded and a small crease appeared between her brows.
 
“You look tired, too.”

“It’s been a long day.
 
Didn’t think I looked that bad, though.”
 
He scrubbed a hand over his chin.
 
“Maybe it’s the beard.
 
Makes me look like I haven’t slept.”

“I must say, this” —Megan reached up to touch the stubble covering his face— “is something else.
 
I’ve never seen you with a five o’clock shadow.
 
Even in Venezuela.”

He froze as her warm fingers glided over his cheek and chin, then wondered if his sudden stillness alerted her to his intense reaction to her touch.
 
If not, his desire must have shown in his eyes, for when she met his gaze with her own, she slowly withdrew her hand and lowered it to the grass.
 

At that moment, classical music blasted from speakers surrounding the fountain.
 
Hundreds, if not thousands, of voices cheered as plumes of water sailed skyward in time to the music.
 
The sight had to be spectacular, judging from the sounds of the crowd and the multitude of camera flashes, but he didn’t dare look.

Megan sat motionless, her eyes turned toward him rather than the fountain.
 
Despite the cacophony around them, Anna didn’t stir.

In that moment, a sensation gripped his heart he’d never before experienced.

He didn’t simply admire this woman.
 
He loved her.
 
He loved her strength.
 
Her independence.
 
Her open smile.
 
Her ability to forgive the fact she’d been blocked from informing him about her pregnancy, and that he’d become engaged so soon after leaving her.
 
And he especially loved her honesty, when she could’ve continued to keep Anna a secret.
 
All of it spoke to the kind of woman she was.
 
Unique in the world.
 
Unique in his life.

He could never, ever let her go.

But he couldn’t tell her, not until he was certain she felt the same.
 
If he breathed a word, she’d think he was trying to manipulate her into marriage.
 

“No one has seen me like this,” he finally said, running a hand over his face full of stubble.
 
“Other than during field training, when I didn’t have access to a razor for a few days, I haven’t let it grow.
 
I’ve certainly never been photographed with it.”

A muscle jumped in her throat as she lowered her gaze to his mouth.
 
“Good way to disguise yourself, then.”

He was losing the battle now.
 
His fingers curled in the grass as he grappled with his overwhelming need to kiss her.
 
To show her, even if he couldn’t tell her, how he felt.
 
Perhaps, just once—

“Stefano?
 
Is that you?”

Megan’s eyes rose to his in a mix of surprise and concern.
 
The voice had come from beyond Megan, beyond the middle-aged couple seated in the grass next to her.
 
Shaken back to reality, he leaned forward, seeking out its source.

“It’s me,” the feminine voice came again.
 
“Ilsa.”

Then he spotted her sitting about fifteen or twenty feet away with a group of young women who, judging from their dress, were planning to spend the evening barhopping or dancing after the water show.
 
When Ilsa saw he’d located her, she fanned her fingers in a small wave.

Cautiously, he glanced around.
 
Everyone else’s attention was riveted on the fountain.
 
He looked back to Ilsa and smiled, then put a finger to his lips.
 

“Ilsa?”
 
Megan hadn’t moved.
 
She seemed afraid to look.
 
“The woman from the Grandspire party?”

“Yes.”

“She recognized you?”
 

“She’s known me for years.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“But she also understands my need for privacy.
 
She’s been through this with my sister.
 
She won’t give me away to her friends.”

“She said your name.”
 
Worry crept into Megan’s voice.

“My first name only, and in a city where it’s not uncommon.
 
No one will make the connection.”
 
He hoped.
 
He leaned forward to look past Megan again.
 
The rest of Ilsa’s group laughed as they held up their cell phones to snap video of the fountain, with its high, wild sprays and multicolored lights moving in time to the music.
 
They seemed not to notice that Ilsa had spied a friend in the crowd.
 
Ilsa gestured toward Megan, tilting her head as if to ask whether Megan was the woman she thought.

He gave a slight nod.
 
It was useless to deny Megan’s identity.
 
Ilsa was too eagle-eyed by far.
 
Not only had she picked out Megan from across the rooftop during the Grandspire fireworks and noted Megan’s interest in Stefano, she’d recognized Stefano in a crowd with a day’s worth of beard.
 

Ilsa smiled in acknowledgement then turned back to her friends.

“You think we’re okay?”
 
Megan asked quietly.
 
She still hadn’t turned around to look at Ilsa, as if afraid doing so would result in disaster.
 
“Should we leave?
 
Can
we leave without being noticed?”

Stefano put his hand over hers, strictly for reassurance.
 
“Like I said this morning, no one expects me here in Barcelona.
 
No one is looking our way.
 
We’re fine.”
 

His attention dropped to the still form in Megan’s lap.
 
“On the other hand, Anna hasn’t moved a muscle in at least half an hour.
 
If it would make you feel better to take her home, we can.”

Megan assessed her daughter before looking back to Stefano.
 
She shifted, but didn’t withdraw her hand from beneath his.
 
“We’ll give her a few minutes.
 
If she doesn’t wake up, then we’ll go, but we’ll have been here long enough for you to tell her how much you enjoyed the fountain.”

He smiled.
 
“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.”
 

Megan didn’t stir.
 
Didn’t look at the fountain.
 
And he knew, knew in his deepest soul, that she desired him even if she refused to marry him.
 
He could see it in the light blush creeping across her cheeks and the slight part of her supple lips.
 
In the way her breathing changed whenever he touched her or smiled at her.
 
At the same time, she didn’t look at him in the same way other women did.
 
It was as if she saw beyond the surface, beyond the royal title, to who he was as a man, and regarded him on that basis.

He threaded his fingers between hers and squeezed.
 
He had to have her.
 
No matter what it took, no matter how long he had to wait.
 
He never considered himself a romantic, but what was their random meeting after ten years on the opposite side of the world if not destiny?
 
In the soft glow and splash of the Magic Fountain, it certainly seemed possible.

Easing his head toward hers, he whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For a perfect day.”
 
He leaned in close enough to feel her warm breath mingle with his.
 
Closing his eyes, he savored the moment before moving fractionally to kiss her cheek.
 
He allowed his lips to linger against her skin for a half-beat longer than necessary for a proper thank you kiss before he pulled back, let go of her hand, and turned to watch the water arc toward the starlit sky.

He took deep satisfaction in the thready sound of her exhale before she said, “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Nineteen

Megan wanted Stefano.
 
Badly.
 
Worse, the man knew it.
 

What he didn’t know—what he could never know—was that she was falling in love with him.
 
No, not
falling
.
 
She feared she’d always loved him.
 
Clandestine weekends spent together so he could make up for lost time with his daughter only served to show Megan that the dynamic, caring, utterly sexy man she’d met in Venezuela, the man she’d kept in her deepest fantasies for years, turned out to have matured into someone even better.
 

It killed her.

Which was why, as they made their way toward the parking lot that sat above one end of the Grandspire’s beachfront boardwalk, Megan took care to keep a healthy physical distance between them.

It was the first time they felt safe being together on hotel property since he’d attended the grand reopening nearly two months ago.
 
So far, aside from the emotional havoc it wreaked within Megan, his weekend visits had gone smoothly.
 
The only blip occurred when Stefano’s friend Ilsa had recognized them at the Magic Fountain during his first visit, but that was all it had been.
 
A blip.
 

He’d even taken the chance he wouldn’t be recognized and booked a commercial flight this weekend while his jet underwent maintenance.
 
The change meant he couldn’t send his travel bag to the airport with his pilot when checking out of his hotel, as had become his habit, but Megan offered her suite for storage and it hadn’t been a problem.
 
Stefano had his hotel’s concierge deliver the bag while Stefano met Megan and Anna at the Parc del Laberint, an old Barcelona public area complete with a hedge maze and a country house that offered tours.
 
Since Anna had never visited the maze, Stefano challenged her to a race from one section to the other as Megan watched from a nearby viewing area that allowed her to cheer their progress.
 
After a relaxed picnic lunch in the park, they’d returned to the Grandspire so Anna could gather her things for an end-of-school celebratory sleepover at her friend Julia’s apartment.
 
Stefano planned to see Anna off, then retrieve his bag before heading to the airport.
 

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