by Mindy Neff
Chelsa wasn’t sure if she was about to be reprimanded or praised for her own choices. “Dare I admit that I never looked up the meanings of my children’s names?”
“Most people do not. But you have chosen well. Emily means ‘flatterer,’ and one only has to look to see that she is good at that.”
Chelsa grinned. “Yes. She can wrap me around her little finger before I even realize what she’s doing.”
Alicia nodded. “And Sophie is ‘wisdom.’ The child is imitating her sister’s excitement, but there is a solemnness to her. Her little mind is churning with thought.”
Astonished by the insight, Chelsa watched her daughters. “You have keen senses to identify their traits so accurately by just looking at them.”
“And you, Chelsa, are a port of ships.”
“No—”
“Yes, and I believe you are exactly what our wanderlust sailor needs.”
For no good reason, her heart fluttered against her ribs. “I told you, we’re just friends. Once the ferry comes, he’ll be gone.”
Alicia gave a gentle, speculative smile. “There is no need for him to wait for the ferry, bonita. Ernesto could deliver Antonio to the mainland in his fishing boat at any time.”
Stunned, Chelsa stood there mute, grappling with this new piece of information. When another customer entered the store, Alicia started to turn away, then hesitated.
“And Antonio means ‘priceless.’ The woman who represents the special harbor he is searching for will indeed be getting a priceless treasure—a gem that the fancy people of the world do not realize exists. And that gem, to that special port of wanderlust ships, is priceless indeed.”
As she watched Alicia greet her newest customer with the customary kiss on both cheeks, Chelsa concentrated on bringing her heart rate under control. No matter what the woman said, Antonio wasn’t looking for a port of ships to settle down with, and Chelsa wasn’t looking for a gem, priceless or otherwise.
Besides, she didn’t place that much importance on the meaning of a name. They were just names.
And she did not, under any circumstances, want hers linked to Antonio Castillo’s. That would be like attaching a homing device to herself, giving Rick the advantage of keeping tabs on her for the rest of her life.
And that was dangerous.
She wanted her life to be a long one. She wanted to see her children grow up, watch them graduate from high school, from college, watch them fall in love and have families of their own.
And to ensure that that happened, she’d do anything, sacrifice anything. And she would not—could not—let herself entertain fantasies about ports for wayward ships and dreamy princes seeking mooring.
“You are deep in thought, querida.”
Antonio’s soft words gave her a jolt and she nearly screamed. “You scared the devil out of me!”
“I apologize. But you were looking a little lost and down, and I felt it my utmost duty to remind you we are on an adventure to have fun.”
His teasing put things back in perspective. This wasn’t a man looking for a permanent berth to dock his ship. And on the subject of ships...
“Alicia mentioned that you’re not actually stranded as I thought. Evidently Ernesto can ferry you home anytime you like?”
“Did I lead you to believe I was stranded?”
“Yes.”
“Must have been the knock on my head.”
“Try again, Prince.”
“Tony,” he coached. He sighed when she didn’t budge. “To be honest, in the beginning it did not occur to me to seek out Ernesto. Perhaps because 1 was intrigued—or blinded rather—by your beauty.” He reached for her hand. “No, do not go all stiff and bristly on me. I am speaking from my heart with genuine honesty.”
She relaxed. The one thing she was sure she could count on was his honesty. “So why are you here buying enough clothes to last you the week, then? Why aren’t you sailing back home where you probably have room-size closets filled with outfits?”
“Like I said, it crossed my mind to stay and get to know you...for myself. Now I would like to stay for you. You rescued me, querida. I would like to be around in the event that you, too, might need rescuing.”
Just the words raised eerie chills along her arms, made nausea churn in her stomach. “We’ll be fine.”
“I am sure that is so. But I am a man who likes to see and do things for himself. A bit of a control freak, if you must know. If I left the island, I would worry. And not knowing if matters had been resolved between the authorities and Rick—and you—would eat me alive. So you see, you are in turn doing me another favor. You are saving my sanity.”
“I thought we’d already established that your sanity was nonexistent in the first place.”
For once he ignored her pitiful attempt at humor.
“You must not split hairs, querida. If you insist, I will take a room at the hotel, but I would much rather that you agree to allow me the use of your porch. There is nothing pressing for me to get back to at home. I have time on my hands, and I would like to see you through your dilemma—or at least see you to safety.”
Oh, it was so tempting. To know there was an ally. To know she wasn’t alone. But dragging someone else into her private hell...? And a prince at that.
He bent his knees, bringing his face even with hers. “I will be like a guard dog, lying across your threshold.”
The image was so crazy, she burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the Vicentes who were doing their utmost to spoil Emily and Sophie. “Now you’re really getting deep.”
“But am I convincing you?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Shall we ask the opinion of Emily and Sophie?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Ah, I said you could count on me. I do not recall promising to use fair means in order to get my way.”
“No wonder everywhere you go people fall for you. It’s that little-boy look with just the right amount of sex appeal that no one can resist.”
“You think I’m sexy?” His grin was suggestive enough to make her knees wobble.
“Don’t get too confident, Prince. You might be able to sweet-talk my daughters, but I’m a little more discriminating.”
“The question is, are you discriminating enough to let me stay on your porch?”
She blew out a resigned breath, knowing when she was outmatched. And secretly pleased in the bargain. “It’s either that, or I’ll have a mutiny on my hands and be forced to let the kids move to town with you. My daughters are half in love with you.”
“And I with them.”
Teasing aside, she sobered. “It’ll be hard on them when you leave, Antonio. Be conscious of that.”
“Like I said, I would not hurt you for the world. And that includes your children, too.”
She sincerely hoped that was the case.
“Come,” he said. “Now that we have lodging matters settled, you must browse and choose something frivolous. A memento of your stay in San Alegra. My treat, of course.”
She imagined that Antonio would be enough of a memento to last her a lifetime, but she kept that to herself and let him lead her through the store.
There were seashells and jewelry and gaily colored island clothing. In refrigerator boxes, fresh fish—caught by Ernesto—tempted shoppers to plan a meal or a fish fry on the beach over an open campfire.
But it was the framed art on the walls that caught Chelsa’s eye.
“Oh, this is beautiful.” Her hushed voice reflected a sense of awe as she ran her finger over the glass-enclosed photo of a naked baby in a plastic wading pool, flower blossoms floating around her. The baby’s head was wreathed with a crown of pink rose buds, and tiny feather wings rested atop her shoulders. So sweet, Chelsa thought. So precious. A closer look showed distinctive, unique eyes set close together, staring out at the world with nothing but love...a Down’s syndrome baby.
The name of the photo was Hope.
Warmth poured into Chelsa’s heart. That single word, as well as the obvious specialness of the baby, were a perfect reminder that there were bigger problems in the world, an invitation to take stock of the many blessings one might be tempted to take for granted.
And the message was cleverly and simply conveyed through the innocence of a child.
“Yes, she is beautiful,” Antonio said, his voice just as quiet. “The artist who took this photo comes from a very prominent family in my country. Remember Cole Martinez whom your detective spoke about?”
“Yes.”
“Raquel Santiago Martinez is his wife and a very good friend of mine. In fact, she nearly became my sister-in-law.”
Chelsa took a discreet look at the price tag. The strong desire to have this print took her by surprise. She didn’t normally covet material things with such intensity.
“No need to look for the cost. If it touches you, it will be my gift to you.”
She started to object, albeit weakly. She really did want this picture.
“Besides,” he said, “all the proceeds from the sale of this art go toward the Down’s syndrome Foundation.”
“So it would be a write-off for you, a charity contribution.”
“No. It would simply be my gift to you.”
Any way he put it, she knew she would relent. And she’d been taught to do so graciously. “Thank you, Tony. I’d love to have this picture.”
As they moved to the counter to pay for their purchases, Chelsa noticed Emily and Sophie huddled together in whispered conversation as Alicia Vicente waited patiently for them to come to some sort of decision over their powwow. It gave Chelsa a start to realize she’d let down her protective guard and entrusted her daughters to Alicia and Ernesto’s watchful eye.
Holding Sophie’s pudgy hand in her own small one, Emily looked up at Alicia, reminding Chelsa of a tiny Southern debutante about to extend a gracious invitation to tea. The only thing that spoiled the image was the twin frowns that marred the girls’ brows.
“Momma said we have to ask about Señor Gatito. He’s a very pretty kitty that we found on the beach, and we get to keep him if he doesn’t already have a home.”
Alicia focused her attention on the two solemn girls as though they were discussing important world events. “You have found a kitty? What does he look like?”
“He’s black-and-white and he has a hurt on his ear that flops.”
“But he didn’t bleed,” Sophie added, as though that were a necessary addition to the description. “And we could keep him.”
“Only if it won’t make some other little girl sad,” Emily admonished her sister, who in turn gave a mutinous look that indicated she didn’t really care who was sad, so long as Señor Gatito could stay.
Alicia smiled. “I believe I know just the kitty you are speaking of. That old tomcat has been known to beg from everyone, yet I do not believe he has family. But we will post a bulletin just in case. Do not worry, niñas. I am thinking your Señor Gatito is a lucky cat and that he has at last found himself a good home.”
The girls were overjoyed and Chelsa bent to hug them, letting them know she was proud that they’d taken the responsibility to ask, even though it had been hard for them.
Too bad their pretty behavior didn’t last for long.
While Alicia Vicente rang up the purchases and pronounced them worthy, Sophie inspected the photo and dubbed it a very special water baby, claiming she was sure it had been the Sophie baby in Chelsa’s series that had kissed this child and made it so beautiful.
That, of course sparked a brief argument—instigated by Emily—over which water baby had done the magical kissing, because Emily was just certain that her namesake character had more appeal.
Although Chelsa was scandalized by her daughters’ bickering in public, Alicia was smugly entertained, and aimed a knowing look directly at Chelsa.
“You see, bonita, it is as I said. Sophie is wisdom and Emily is flattery. You think about the rest.”
Ignoring Antonio’s obvious curiosity, Chelsa nodded dutifully. But she was not going to dwell on scenarios where a certain rogue prince moored his wanderlust yacht in her berth. Never mind the sexual undertones of that image, the philosophical ones wouldn’t be considered, either.
By the time they left the store, Chelsa was beginning to think they’d need a wagon to transport their purchases. The girls were in candy and trinket heaven, but Antonio apparently wasn’t through threatening the health of their teeth.
As promised, and with much giggling and stage whispers, he whisked them into the cake shop and bought enough chocolate to keep the girls bouncing off the walls and on a sugar high for months. Not to mention the pounds and inches that would no doubt settle right on Chelsa’s hips.
Halfway back to the bungalow, Chelsa was still shaking her head. Sophie had a chocolate ring around her mouth and a hand-size smear down the front of her dress. Emily wasn’t in much better shape, and the bakery bag had suffered a rip during the scuffle over who got to carry it.
“We will put it away and regulate how much they eat at a sitting,” Antonio said as a compromise to her concerns.
“Never mind the kids. I’m the one we need to worry about hiding it from.”
He grinned, glancing down at her. When their eyes met, it was like an explosion of fireworks, blindingly mesmerizing. With a gentle finger, he captured a strand of hair that blew across her mouth and tucked it behind her ear.
Her steps faltered, and suddenly, the act of putting one foot in front of the other became a near impossibility.
Something was happening between them that she felt ill equipped to deal with. The air became charged and expectant. He leaned in close, his breath warm where it brushed her lips. So close. Yet not touching.
“I have a philosophy that one can never have too much candy.”
Or sex.
He didn’t say it, but he might as well have. His voice was low and intimate and suggestive, and her body responded like a teenager’s caught in the grip of untapped hormones. Her gaze settled on his sculpted mouth, and the yearning that swept her was all encompassing. Even the birdsong seemed to take on a sensual cadence. The meadowlark sitting on the telephone wire seemed to be saying “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
Good night, she was pathetic. And she needed to get her mind off the subject and somewhere safer.
“So...” She stopped, cleared her throat and ordered her feet to move. “The photographer, Raquel Martinez, you say she was almost your sister-in-law?”
He fell back into step beside her, acting as though the charged moment had never even happened. “Yes. She was betrothed to Joseph from birth.”
If he could appear unaffected by their closeness, so could she. “And what happened?”
“Joseph wanted love over duty, and Raquel wanted freedom and a chance to be a bit of a bohemian rather than a proper heiress.”
“Couldn’t they discuss these desires and come to terms?” Desire was a poor choice of words, threatening to send her off on another tangent. She resisted the train of thought. Especially because Antonio seemed to get so much joy over relating the story of his family and friends.
“Rocky was scared to death to make a peep in Joseph’s presence, and Joseph, in turn, neglected to even look at her.”
Chelsa frowned.
“I know what it sounds like, but the image you are no doubt picturing is far removed from each of their personalities. You see, Joseph takes his duty very seriously, but he had begun to get bored.... No, bored isn’t the right word. He was questioning his life. When he turned thirty, he was to become officially, publicly engaged to Raquel, and a marriage was to take place within months. But alas, he skipped out on the ceremony and sailed a yacht to the French Riviera instead.”
“I imagine that shook up the palace.”
“You do not know the half of it. I, myself, had missed the betrothal ceremony, and for that hapless breach, the queen was not pleased. She sent me to reason
with my brother—which if you truly think about it, makes not a bit of sense. Imagine, me talking someone into marriage.” His tone and his expression were alight with feigned horror.
“As it turned out, Joseph most definitely had his mind set on marriage,” he continued, “but not to Raquel. He met Briana Duvaulle in Monte Carlo and fell like a ton of platinum.”
“Oh. How did Raquel feel about that?”
“Pleased as punch. In fact, when Briana refused Joseph’s marriage plea, and Joseph had almost resigned himself to upholding duty and marrying the heiress, Raquel shocked the country by fleeing at the last hour.”
“She left a royal prince standing at the altar?” And here she’d worried over the etiquette of making one sleep on the porch. Suddenly she didn’t feel quite so out of step.
“Gutsy, don’t you think?” He laughed. “However, she rendezvoused with the queen, and the two of them pressed upon Briana that she must set aside any foolishness of thinking that a girl from Ohio could not marry a royal prince. So, expecting Raquel to walk down the isle, Joseph nearly blew the whole thing by trying to back out at the last minute.”
Sophie and Emily had abandoned their chocolate and were caught up in the story by now, nearly tripping themselves as they looked up at Antonio instead of watching where they were going.
“But it was Princess Briana who showed up?” Emily asked dreamily.
“Absolutely. A real-life fairy tale.”
“And she kissed him so he wasn’t a sad frog,” Sophie inserted.
“That she did.”
“And what happened to Raquel?” Chelsa asked.
“Yeah,” Emily said. “And how come you called her Rocky?”
“I call her Rocky because we are very good friends. Actually, she used to liken herself to Rapunzel.” He ruffled Sophie’s cap of short frizzy curls. “Remember the heiress I told you about who started a chic trend by leaving her long tresses on the floor of a French salon?”