The Marcelli Princess Read online

  “My cousin Diego never accepted the fact that due to an ancient rule and a quirk of birth order, he would not rule Calandria. As he grew older, he vowed his revenge, on whom I do not know. Perhaps on the country herself. No one could reason with him, not even me, but we were, until our early twenties, close.”

  “But if you’re the heir”—a fact she wanted confirmed by a reliable outside source, because thinking about it was just too crazy—“wouldn’t he have resented you the most?”

  “In a way he did. Yet we were friends. No matter how I tried to make Diego feel welcome, to give him something to do in our government, he remained bitter. He turned his energy to researching our ancient past and discovered a treasure trove of antiquities just beyond the waves. That discovery itself could have made him a very famous and wealthy man, but for Diego, it wasn’t enough. Instead of announcing his find, he kept the knowledge secret and sold the jewels and artifacts on the black market.”

  “I know that part,” Mia said. “That’s why I was sent there—to help uncover the ring of thieves.” She’d been thrilled to get an undercover assignment so quickly after finishing her training. “But you were Diego.”

  “Not at first. After he was killed, the director of intelligence came to see me.”

  Tiny Calandria had a director of intelligence? The island was barely the size of Manhattan.

  “He and his men had decided the best way to trap all the would-be thieves was for me to go in and pretend to be Diego. We told no one. Not even the Americans who were assisting us. As no one knew Diego had died in a car accident outside of Paris, it was easy for me to step into his place.”

  She walked to the wooden railing at the edge of the vegetable garden and rested her arms on top. Her head hurt from trying to get all this straight. “You were a plant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you were never the bad guy.”

  “Not in the traditional sense.”

  Mia would deal with that later. When she was alone, she would pick apart his story, piece by piece, and try to get her mind around the fact that Diego hadn’t been bad at all.

  She looked at him, then wished she hadn’t. Listening was safe, but seeing the differences in his appearance startled her. Not that he wasn’t good-looking now, but everything was wrong.

  “You set me up. You wanted me to see you die so I would report that little tidbit back to my government. You used me.”

  “I didn’t want to, but there wasn’t another way. Per the plan, the authorities arrived to arrest everyone. You escaped, Diego’s people watched Diego die, and the heritage of my country was restored.”

  All very tidy, Mia thought, except for the fact that she’d been in love with Diego. She’d gone against all her training and her beliefs when she’d found herself falling for the man she thought was the enemy. Torn between what her head told her was right and what her heart begged her to claim, she’d barely been able to function.

  Anger returned. She glared at him. “You must have been so delighted that I conveniently fell in with your plans. Imagine how difficult things would have been if I hadn’t fallen for you.”

  “Mia, no. I never meant to hurt you or use you. I wanted to tell you the truth.”

  “I know, but you were just so busy. There wasn’t any time.” She took a step back. “I suppose the moment you were pushing me onto the helicopter wasn’t convenient enough? Or what about afterward, when I was falling apart? I thought I loved you. I thought you were special, and you walked away and let me think you were dead for five years?”

  “I wanted to come after you,” he said. “I needed to tell you the truth. You must believe me.”

  “Not a chance. How hard would I have been to find?”

  He set his coffee on the fence post. “Your government was not exactly forthcoming. You were an operative and they insisted on protecting your identity. In desperation, I went through diplomatic channels. I used every power of my office to find you. At last I received word from a source I trusted that you had been killed only a few weeks after you had left Calandria.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He reached for her again, but this time she stayed back.

  “I’m not lying,” he said. “I was devastated. I could not imagine a world without your laughter.” He shook his head, then looked away. “I know what I felt and I will not explain myself further.”

  If he’d tried to convince her, she wouldn’t have believed him, but the arrogant tilt of his head, the lack of concern for her feelings, sort of made her wonder if he was telling the truth.

  Rafael was right—the United States government didn’t give out personal information on intelligence personnel to foreign governments. Even intelligence personnel who quit after their first job.

  He stared at the vineyard. “If they hadn’t told me you’d died, I never would have stopped looking. I believe that’s why they made up the story. The source was someone I trusted. I had no reason to question the information.”

  “So you knew who I was,” she said.

  “I knew you were with the American intelligence community. I knew you were there to get information on the thefts. I knew we were both on the same side.”

  “Wish I’d had that information,” she murmured. “So what happened next? You returned to your life?” She shook her head. “Are you really the crown prince?”

  He smiled. “You have seen my identification. Speaking of which, I will need my passport returned to me.”

  “Sure thing.” She glanced at the driveway and saw the front of the large, long limo with flags fluttering. “You’d better not be lying about that being your car. Even as we speak, my brother is running the plates.”

  “Then he will be able to confirm the truth of my statement.” His smile deepened. “Would I really lie about being a prince? Something so easy to prove or disprove?”

  He had a point. She sipped her coffee and wished she could take a couple of days to absorb all this.

  “Why now?” she asked. “Why did you come back?”

  “I found out you were still alive. I came right away, Mia. I came for you.”

  Not quite as good as Kyle Reese coming across time for Sarah Connor in the first Terminator movie, but when spoken in Rafael’s soft accented voice, it was a close second.

  “There was a picture in the newspaper,” he said. “President Jensen’s sixtieth birthday, I believe. You know the president of the United States?”

  Mia knew exactly what picture he was talking about. It had been taken at a private party for the president. President Jensen had picked up Mia’s son and tossed the boy in the air. The photo showed him as he caught the boy. They were both laughing, with Mia standing just behind them, clapping at their fun.

  The picture had been on the front page of USA Today, with a line about the president enjoying a family outing on his birthday. Who knew the newspaper’s distribution went all the way to Calandria?

  “Yes, well, that just sort of happened. The president’s daughter was threatened and she came here to hide out. She and Joe fell in love. When they got married, we all became relatives.”

  She shook her head. If Rafael had seen that picture, he’d also seen Danny.

  “What have you been doing?” he asked. “I know you left the agency. You would not have had your picture in the paper if you had not.”

  “What? Oh, right. No press photos of operatives. I quit as soon as I got back to the States. After you died, after I thought you died, I couldn’t do it anymore. I came home and tried to make peace with everything.”

  “Did you?”

  No. She’d fallen apart—a new experience for her. She’d grown up confident and ready to rule the world. But something had happened in the short weeks she’d spent pretending to be an American looking for adventure.

  “I thought you were the bad guy,” she told him, still furious that she’d been lied to. “I thought I was betraying my country by falling for you.”

  He stepped toward her. “Mia
, do not distress yourself.”

  What was she supposed to do? Be happy? “If I can’t believe who you were, how can I believe who you are?”

  “Perhaps you don’t have to. Perhaps we could start at the beginning. Meet now.” He held out his right hand. “Good morning. I am Rafael, Crown Prince of Calandria. And you are?”

  She sighed. “Sorry, no. That isn’t going to work. We can’t just start over. There’s too much messy past between us. Too many years.”

  “So I should not have come? You are not happy to see me?”

  “I’m…” Annoyed, confused, furious, shocked. “I’m not really a morning person.”

  “Of course. You want me to leave.”

  He turned, as if prepared to walk to his limo and disappear from her life. Only she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

  “Wait,” she said. “I…What do I call you? Prince Rafael? Your highness?”

  “Rafael is fine.”

  “All right. Rafael. This is happening so quickly. I don’t know what to think or believe. I need a little time. We have to talk. I’m still not clear on why you’re here.”

  “To see you.”

  Was that all? “If you saw the picture, then you saw Danny.”

  He frowned slightly. “The boy? The child of one of your sisters.”

  Mia clutched her coffee. It was true that the caption hadn’t identified the child in the picture, or her for that matter.

  She didn’t know if Rafael was telling the truth. She’d long since learned to be wary of the men she brought into her life. They were usually snakes. Diego had been no exception, but was Rafael different?

  Did it matter? Either way, she had to tell him. He deserved to know.

  “Danny is my son,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice even. “And yours.”

  Rafael timed his reaction carefully. To show too much shock would be to put Mia on her guard. To show not enough would mark him as an indifferent father.

  “My son?” he asked as he took a step back. “What are you saying?”

  “I was pregnant when I left Calandria. Only a week or so along. I didn’t know, obviously. When I came home, I was pretty broken up about everything. Finding out I was pregnant saved me.”

  He saw the pain in her eyes as she spoke and knew he had no reason not to believe her. Besides, he and Mia hadn’t been lovers for more than a couple of weeks before the sting had ended.

  “I had no idea,” he said, willing his expression toward disbelief. “You had a child? Your government kept that from me as well?”

  “I’m not sure they knew,” she told him. “I quit and came home. That was the end of my relationship with the agency. Unlike in the movies, they didn’t spend a lot of time begging me to return to my old job.”

  “Someone should have told me,” he growled, not having to fake the anger he felt. What Mia didn’t know was that it was directed at himself. He’d been the one who hadn’t bothered to follow up with her. To make sure there were no consequences of their time together. For the past four years his son, his heir, had existed and he hadn’t known.

  “I would have, except I thought you were dead,” she said sharply, then sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be crabby. This is all so much. Too much. I don’t know what Danny’s going to think. All his life, I told him his father died before he was born.” She looked at him. “You’re not questioning your paternity. I’m not lying, but you’ll probably want to check this all out. It would be a big deal for any guy, but I’m guessing an even bigger one for a prince.”

  She was telling the truth. Before sneaking into Mia’s room, he’d visited the boy. The child had slept soundly and it had been easy to check the small of his back. There, just to the left of his spine, was the small star-shaped birthmark all the men in his family possessed. The child was his, but better to play along and pretend to not be sure.

  “I have never doubted your integrity,” he said. “But under the circumstances proof will be necessary. I’m sure we can arrange for a DNA test of some kind.”

  “Circumstances?” she repeated. “You mean the one where you’re a prince and heir to a throne and I’m just some commoner from California?”

  “I would not describe you thus,” he said, moving close and taking her hand in his. Her skin was warm and he enjoyed the contact.

  Five years ago he’d claimed Mia as his own because it had pleased him to do so. Now he would claim her for other reasons, but the task would still be most pleasant.

  “Great,” she murmured, then took a sip of her coffee as she carefully pulled free of his touch. “Let me recap. You might be Diego, and hey, an heir to the Calandria throne. You’re also not dead. In the short time we were together five years ago, I managed to get pregnant, because that’s just how my luck goes. Now you’re back and we’re parents together. Did I miss anything?”

  He remembered the first time he’d met her. Even then he’d been unable to decide which he admired more—her spirit or her beauty. His dilemma had not changed.

  “Those seem to be the salient points,” he said.

  “Great. I need more coffee.”

  She took a step and stumbled on the uneven ground. He reached for her, grabbing her arm and holding her upright. She reached for him with her free hand—to steady herself, he was sure—which left them standing very close.

  He found himself staring into her brown eyes. He could feel the warmth and enticing curves of her body. Her mouth called to him. Whatever else might or might not have happened with Mia, he had always wanted her. Apparently time apart hadn’t changed that fact. How convenient.

  “Mia,” he whispered.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she told him, but she didn’t move away.

  “Why would I think when action is so much more pleasurable?” he asked as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Her breath caught. She stiffened but stayed in his arms.

  Then a loud voice cut through the morning and broke the mood completely.

  “Step away from my sister. Do it slowly and I probably won’t shoot you in the back.”

  2

  Rafael straightened but didn’t move away. Mia took advantage of his momentary distraction and stepped back so she could look at Joe.

  Sure enough, her former Navy SEAL brother held a mean-looking handgun inches from Rafael’s back. While she appreciated Joe’s concern about her safety and that he was willing to be all macho and protective, she wasn’t sure shooting the father of her son was an especially good idea. Not yet, anyway. Although she kind of liked seeing Rafael at the business end of a gun.

  “I don’t think he’s dangerous,” she said, only to gasp in surprise as two large and burly men in dark suits rounded the side of the house. Each of them had an equally impressive-looking handgun. They shouted in Italian, then in French, for Joe to drop his weapon.

  In a move too fast for her to see, Joe grabbed Rafael and held his gun to the base of his neck.

  “Get behind me,” Joe told her. “Who the hell are you?” he asked the other two. “What do you want?”

  Okay, this was quickly getting out of hand. Mia looked at Rafael. “Let me guess—the bodyguards?” Traveling with protection certainly helped his credibility on the whole “I’m a prince” thing.

  “Yes. Umberto. Oliver. There is no need to attack anyone so early in the morning. This is only a misunderstanding.” Rafael, apparently unconcerned about the gun pressing into his neck, smiled at Joe. “Is it not?”

  He sounded calm, which Mia respected.

  The bodyguards, however, were not moved. They kept their weapons trained on Joe.

  Just then the back door to the kitchen opened. Grandma Tessa walked out and planted her hands on her hips. “If you boys are finished playing, breakfast is ready.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s getting cold.”

  Mia glanced at the men and realized this could take a minute. Rather than deal with the diplomatic disarming, she stepped around Joe and hurried toward the house. Maybe running a
way wasn’t her preferred method of dealing with problems, but Rafael wasn’t a normal problem. Besides, she had to be somewhere.

  “Mia?” Rafael called after her. “Perhaps you could ask your brother to release me.”

  “You used to be a dangerous outlaw,” she told him as she passed Grandma Tessa on the stairs. “You figure it out.”

  Once she was inside, she made her way to the second story. She’d grown up here—lived her life surrounded by these walls. At sixteen she’d gone to college but had still considered the hacienda home. At twenty-three she’d returned pregnant, emotionally devastated. Her family had taken her in and made her feel welcome.

  In time she would leave again and take her son with her. They would start a new life, but they would both always remember their time here.

  When she reached the bedroom on the end, right across from her own, she paused in front of the closed door and pressed her hand against the painted wood.

  Everything was about to change. She didn’t know where they would end up, but as of this minute, her world had been tilted on its axis. Until this morning she’d wondered if her son would be interested in inheriting Marcelli Wine and the acres of vineyards around the house. Now, apparently, he might be next in line to inherit a whole country.

  She opened the door and stepped into the colorful, toy-filled bedroom and smiled as her son sat up.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you sleep well?”

  “Mommy!” Danny held out his arms.

  When she plopped down on the mattress, he climbed into her lap and leaned his head against her chest. Automatically she picked up his treasured stuffed tiger and handed it to him. He held it close while she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him back and forth.

  “We have a busy day,” she said softly. “So many things to do. Grammy M and Grandma Tessa have finished your costume.”