The Marcelli Princess Page 3
He looked up at her and grinned. “For my play?”
“Uh-huh. I think maybe later we should practice your lines again.”
“I know ’em.”
She smiled. He knew his three lines about as well as any other child in his preschool class. Which meant the play would consist of a lot of parental prompting and giggles from the kids.
Danny snuggled close. She breathed in the scent of him, knowing she could find him in the dark by smell alone. He was her child and her world. From the moment she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d known it would always just be the two of them. Well, as much as it could be the two of them, given her extended and loving family and the fact that she lived in the same house as her parents and both grandmothers.
“I want chocolate cake,” he said.
She laughed. “Hmm, yesterday it was peanut butter.”
“Grammy M said a peanut butter cake would stick to the roof of my mouth. So chocolate.”
His fourth birthday was still nearly a month away, but Danny took the cake decision very seriously. As this was the first year he’d actually had an opinion, Mia was more than willing to let him pick.
“Chocolate it is,” she said as she kissed the top of his head then set him on the floor. “Okay, big guy. Let’s get you dressed.”
Danny rubbed his eyes, set down his tiger, and tugged at his PJ shirt. He got it over his head, where it got stuck. Mia pulled until he popped free and grinned at her.
She pulled open a drawer and called out colors. “Blue, green, red, or yellow?”
Danny closed his mouth and blew through pursed lips. “Yellow.”
She removed a bright yellow T-shirt with trucks on the front, a pair of dark gray shorts, and cartoon character–covered underwear.
He stepped out of his bottoms and underwear, then reached for the clean pair of little boy briefs. Next were the shorts, which he could pull on himself. She helped him with the T-shirt.
The familiarity of the morning routine allowed her to momentarily forget the sudden appearance of Danny’s father, but she couldn’t ignore Diego…Rafael…any longer.
She tossed the dirty clothes into the hamper and grabbed the hairbrush from the dresser. Danny stood patiently while she smoothed his dark hair. When she’d finished, she looked at the familiar little face and knew he was very much his father’s son.
The shape of their eyes was the same and they had similar smiles. Not that there was any doubt. Mia hadn’t been in a relationship in months when she met Rafael. She’d fallen hard, even though she’d known it was the wrong thing to do.
Rafael might insist on a DNA test, but she already knew the truth.
“What, Mommy?” Danny asked, his face scrunching up in a frown. “Are you sad?”
“Not sad. I have to tell you something.”
“I’ve been good.”
She smiled. “Yes, you have. You’re usually very good and I think that’s great.” She took the boy’s hands in her own. “Do you remember me telling you how your daddy died before you were born?”
Danny nodded solemnly. “You were very sad for a long, long time.”
“I was. But what I didn’t know was he was playing a game. Not with me, but with some other people. He only pretended to die, but I didn’t know. I thought he was gone.”
Danny stared at her and she could see he wasn’t getting it. Who could blame him? He was three weeks shy of turning four. She was twenty-seven and she was having trouble taking it all in.
She started over. “I thought your daddy was dead, but he wasn’t. He was fine. But some people wanted to protect me and they told him…”
She sighed. Okay, this was getting worse by the minute. How to explain that while she’d thought Rafael was dead and he wasn’t, he’d thought the same about her and…
“Your daddy isn’t dead. He’s here. Downstairs. He didn’t know about you until today and he’s very excited to find out he has a little boy.”
Danny’s face lit up as he pulled his hands free and clapped them together. “I have a daddy?” he asked with a reverence usually reserved for ice cream and puppies.
“Yes, you do. Would you like to meet him?”
Her son nodded vigorously.
“You sure you want to go there?” Joe asked from the doorway to Danny’s room. “What about the DNA test and checking this guy out?”
“Uncle Joe!” Danny flew toward his favorite male in the whole world.
Joe grabbed him and tossed him in the air. “Whoa there. You grew in the night. I can tell.”
Danny shrieked with delight as his uncle caught him. “I got a daddy.”
“So I heard.”
Mia stood. “So the four of you worked out your personal issues?”
Joe shifted the boy so that Danny sat on his shoulders. “Grandma Tessa bullied them into putting theirs away first. Then I was willing to play nice.”
“Always the protector.”
“I try. Aren’t you being a little premature on the d-a-d-d-y front? What do you know about this guy?”
Mia couldn’t answer that. Diego had been a notorious outlaw. Apparently Rafael was a prince. “I know what happened and I know Danny is his son. I’m not going to keep them apart.”
“I want to check out the guy,” her brother told her.
“I encourage that. Check away.” But prince or not, Diego/Rafael had fathered her child. Although as Rafael had pointed out, why lie about being a prince?
“What’s he doing here?” Joe asked her. “Why now?”
“It was that picture with the president. USA Today picked it up and apparently flashed it around the world.”
“Yeah, them,” Joe muttered.
“At least the Grands will be excited if he turns out to be a prince,” she told him. “First you marry the president’s daughter then I…” She glanced at her son. “Then I meet someone famous.”
“Meet, huh? That’s one way to put it.” Joe grabbed Danny’s ankles. “Ready to go downstairs?” he asked.
“Go fast,” Danny yelled. “As fastest as you can!”
Joe obliged by racing down the stairs. Mia followed, wondering how it was possible that her perfectly ordinary life had just taken a turn for the incredible.
* * *
Rafael did his best to hide his amusement. Oliver and Umberto were highly trained bodyguards who were used to controlling every situation. Now they were held at bay by a tiny woman with a rolling pin. It wasn’t that the two men couldn’t take Grandma Tessa, as Mia had called her, but that their own sense of family, not to mention his orders to stand down, put them in an uncomfortable situation.
“Tessa, please,” the other grandmother—Grammy M—said with a sigh. “You’ll be frightenin’ our guests.”
“They’re not guests. They have guns.” Tessa’s eyes narrowed as if she wanted to whack them both on the back of the head to teach them a lesson. “There will be no guns in this house.”
“Joe had a gun,” Grammy M pointed out.
“He’s family. That’s different.”
Rafael enjoyed the blend of Tessa’s slight Italian accent and Grammy M’s lilting Irish voice.
“They’re here to protect me,” he said, hoping to smooth over the situation.
“I can see why you’d want protection from two old women,” Tessa chided.
Grammy M sighed. “You’ll have to be forgivin’ her, your highness. Tessa’s not one to deal well with change.”
“I suppose you expect us to feed them, too,” Tessa grumbled as she put the rolling pin on the counter and ignored the other woman’s comment. “You show up without warning, claiming to be…” She shook her head. “I, for one, don’t believe a word of it.”
He’d spent the past couple of days researching Mia’s family. His time working with the Calandrian intelligence department had taught him to know his enemies better than he knew any of his friends. Not that Mia or her relatives were necessarily enemies. Perhaps wild cards would be a better descripti
on.
He’d studied the names and faces, along with facts provided by the director of intelligence. But seeing a two-dimensional picture was very different from meeting the person in question.
He liked that Tessa mistrusted him. Her wariness showed a sensibility that would do well for his son. While Grammy M’s soft and accepting heart was slightly less useful when it came to ruling a country, it might serve Daniel well in romantic matters.
“How can I convince you of my true identity?” he asked. “You have already seen my passport. Unfortunately, princes are not issued identification cards at birth.”
“Too bad,” Tessa said with a sniff. “But not to worry. Darcy has put a call in to her father. We’ll soon know everything about you.”
He pretended a confusion he didn’t feel. “Darcy?” he asked, knowing exactly who she and her father were.
“The daughter of the president of the United States,” Tessa said sharply. “She’s married to Joe. My very sensible grandson. Good thing he takes after me and not some flighty people I could name who are won over by a couple of flags on a long black car and a title that may or may not be real.”
Rafael bowed his head slightly and tried not to smile. “I have nothing to hide,” he said. At least nothing they would find out by calling the president.
Grammy M walked to the table and poured him more coffee. “Don’t let her be botherin’ you. She’s always been a bit of a crab.”
Tessa ignored them and retreated to the stove. Rafael decided to use the moment to cement Grammy M’s support.
“When did you leave Ireland?” he asked.
Grammy M glanced at the two bodyguards standing by the back door, then took the seat across from his at the large table.
“When I was a girl. I married young and my husband, God rest his soul, moved us here.”
“A change from the beauty of those green hills,” he said.
“’Tis true, but this is home now. It has been for a long time. My family is here. My husband died here, as did Gabriel, a man I knew. He passed on a couple of years ago. Now Tessa and I are two old women waiting till the end of our days.”
“Speak for yourself,” Tessa snapped. “I’m waiting on Joe to throw that man out. All your smooth talking isn’t going to convince me of anything.”
Rafael knew he would have to charm Tessa into neutrality, if nothing else, but before he could start, Mia walked into the kitchen.
He stood and smiled at her. She acknowledged him with a nod of her head but nothing else. Instantly, both grandmothers were at her side, offering tangible support.
Five years ago Mia had come to his country to help rout out the thieves who were stealing Calandria’s history. Her assignment had been to pose as a foolish but rich American tourist looking for adventure while collecting information on those who plotted against his country.
She’d been smart, irreverent, and determined. She’d also been a beauty, with streaked hair and big brown eyes. While the hair color was now darker, the eyes were the same. She hadn’t lost her curves, but the air of joyous exuberance seemed to be missing.
“You’ll want to meet Danny,” she said.
He nodded, then felt an unexpected quickening of his heart. His son. His heir. Blood from dozens of kings and princes pumped in the boy’s veins. Daniel…Rafael sighed—the boy’s name would have to be changed to something more royal. Daniel was the hope of his country’s future.
Mia retreated into the hallway, then returned leading a small boy by the hand. Although Rafael had seen him sleeping only an hour or two before, he hadn’t taken the time to study the child’s features.
Even without the telltale birthmark, the truth was there in the features, the shape of the body. Danny reminded him of Diego and Quentin when they had been young.
Still holding the boy’s hand, Mia crouched next to the child and smiled. “Danny, do you want to say hello?”
Danny stuck his forefinger in his mouth and regarded Rafael thoughtfully. “Are you really my daddy?” he asked softly.
“Yes, I am. I am Crown Prince Rafael of Calandria and you are my heir.”
Danny frowned. “I’m not air. I’m a little boy.”
Mia smiled. “He means you’re going to be like him when you grow up.”
Danny turned and buried his face in her shoulder. Mia wrapped her arms around him. “Sorry,” she told Rafael over the boy’s head. “He’s not usually shy, but this is a big deal.”
“Of course. Anyone would be confused by the situation.”
“You’d think a boy would know his own father,” Tessa said, glaring at him.
“Rafael is his father,” Mia said. “I don’t have any doubts.”
“We should have breakfast,” Grammy M said. “Come on, Danny. I’ve made hot chocolate.”
The boy let go of his mother and went with Grammy M to the table. He glanced at Rafael several times, as if trying to figure out what having a father meant.
Mia stood. “It’s going to take time for all of us to adjust,” she said.
He was close enough to inhale the scent of her skin. Something floral with the hint of a woman’s heat. Instantly he could remember what it had been like to be with her. They’d come together in a fiery passion that had defied logic and some of the laws of physics.
Did that fire still exist between them? He would not mind if it did. Seducing Mia would not only be pleasurable, it would aid his plan.
“I do not mean to rush anyone,” he said. “We will—what is the phrase?—make it up as we go along.”
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Good.”
She had known him as Diego as well as anyone, he thought. But she didn’t know him as Rafael. If she did, she would realize that he never allowed himself to simply go along with circumstances. He always had a goal and he always achieved it.
* * *
Danny’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t squirm.
Mia crouched in front of her son and took both his hands in hers. “Remember when you had to get a shot and I told you it would hurt?” she asked.
Danny nodded.
“And when we went to the dentist for a cleaning and I said it wouldn’t hurt and it didn’t?”
He nodded again.
“This won’t hurt at all. Okay?”
He looked from her to Umberto, then opened his mouth and closed his eyes. The tall, burly bodyguard stuck the swab into the boy’s mouth and rubbed it against his cheek.
“I am finished,” he said in thickly accented English.
Danny blinked. “That’s it?”
Mia grinned. “Uh-huh. Did I say it wouldn’t hurt? Did you believe me?”
As she spoke, she tickled Danny’s sides. He laughed and pretended to push her away, while cuddling closer.
“It was okay,” he said between bursts of laughter.
Umberto nodded and left with the swab. Joe stepped out of the corner.
“They’ll rush it through,” he told her. “It should only be a few days.”
Mia pulled Danny onto her lap and glanced at her brother. “Still having doubts?”
“More like false hopes,” he admitted. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” she admitted. Too much had happened too quickly. Four hours ago she’d been asleep in her own bed and now a man she thought dead and buried had strolled back into her life. And not just any man.
“Is he really a prince?” she asked.
“Pretty much.”
Impossible, she thought. “I’ve never been very good at reverence.”
“You’d better learn to curtsy.”
She couldn’t imagine that ever happening. “It’s a new century. Royalty isn’t like it was before.”
Joe smiled. “They’ve let go of their love of a good beheading.” His smile faded. “I don’t know what to hope for,” he admitted. “Danny needs a father, but this guy?”
“I do have interesting taste in men,” she said, still unable t
o get her mind around all that had happened.
Grammy M walked into the dining room. “He’s leaving,” she announced. “Just like that. Prince Rafael is leaving.”
“Going back to Calandria?” Mia asked, wanting him gone and not gone in equal measure.
“Worse. A hotel. Tessa says he’s not staying here, which is just ridiculous. I’ve never seen her like this before. She was always difficult and stubborn, but not like this. Imagine takin’ an instant dislike to little Danny’s father.”
Danny looked up at Mia. “Daddy stays here.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a request. She turned to Joe. “What does your military training say?”
“We can keep an eye on him in either place.”
There weren’t that many hotels around the hacienda. Santa Barbara was the closest town, and as it was summer, the main tourist season was in full swing. Would he even be able to find a room nearby? Did she care?
“He could stay in the house,” Grammy M said eagerly, “and those other two can use the guest cottage. That will get them out of the house. We shouldn’t have guns in the house. Not with little fingers about.”
Or even the whole boy, Mia thought. Technically there was room. Her parents were gone for a few months and the hacienda was big. “All right. Sure. Invite Rafael to stay.” Assuming royalty was willing to bunk with the common man.
Grammy M held out her hand to Danny. “Come on, then. Let’s go see if we can be convincin’ your father to grace us with his presence.”
Mia let the older woman lead Danny away.
“I’m not excited about the ‘gracing us with his presence’ attitude,” she admitted when she and Joe were alone. “The situation is already difficult enough.”
Joe moved close and put his arm around her. “We’ll be fine.”
“You sure about that?”
“Almost.”
“Great. What can we do to move you to be completely sure? Because I’d like that better.”
“You scared?”
Scared? Sure. And nauseous and apprehensive and a whole lot of other things.
“I saw him die, Joe. I’ve spent the past five years feeling guilty about the fact that he saved my life only to lose his own. Now he shows up and tells me he’s not who I thought, he’s not dead, and hey, ‘I rushed to your side as soon as I found out you were still alive yourself.’ There should be a limit on surprises in a twenty-four-hour period.”