“And you were the enemy?”
“Pretty much. Those stereotypes you see in movies about popular girls aren’t as exaggerated as you might think. They can be vicious.”
Mia toppled over and wound up lying on her back against his leg. She smiled up at him and gurgled happily, and he couldn’t help but smile back. He had the feeling she was destined to be as beautiful as her mother.
“So, if the popular girls were so terrible, why didn’t you make friends who weren’t popular?”
“Girls were intimidated by me. It took them a long time to get past my face to see what was on the inside. And just when they would begin to realize that I wasn’t a snob, and I started to form attachments, my dad would uproot us again and I’d have to start over in a new school.”
“You moved often?”
“At least once a year, usually more. My dad’s in the army.”
He had a difficult time picturing that. He’d imagined her as being raised in an upscale suburban home, with a pampered, trophy wife mother and an executive father who spoiled her rotten. Apparently he’d been wrong about many things.
“How many different places have you lived?” he asked.
“Too many. The special weapons training he did meant moving a lot. Overseas we were based in Germany, Bulgaria, Israel, Japan and Italy, and domestically we lived in eight different states at eleven bases. All by the time I was seventeen. Deep down, I think all the moving was just his way of coping with my mom’s death.”
The fact that she, too, had lost her mother surprised him. “When did she die?”
“I was five. She had the flu of all things.”
His mother’s death, the unfairness of it, had left him under a cloud so dark and obliterating, he felt as if he would never be cheerful again. Yet Vanessa seemed to maintain a perpetually positive attitude and sunny disposition.
“She was only twenty-six,” Vanessa said.
“That’s very young.”
“It was one of those fluke things. She just kept getting worse and worse, and by the time she went in for treatment, it had turned into pneumonia. My dad was away at the time, stationed in the Persian Gulf. I don’t think he ever forgave himself for not being there.”
At least Marcus had his mother for twenty-eight years. Not that it made losing her any easier. And though he knew it happened all the time, it still struck him as terribly unjust for a child to lose a parent so young, and from such a common and typically mild affliction.
“How about you?” she asked. “Where have you lived?”
“I’ve visited many places,” Marcus said, “but I’ve never lived anywhere but the palace.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to be independent? Out on your own?”
More times than he could possibly count. When people heard royalty, they assumed a life of grandeur and excess, but the responsibilities attached to the crown could be suffocating. When it came to everything he did, every decision he made, he had to first consider his title and how it would affect his standing with the people.
“My place is with my family,” he told Vanessa. “It’s what is expected of me.”
Mia gurgled and swung her arms, vying for his attention, so he tickled her under the chin, which made her giggle.
“If I’d had to live with my dad all these years, I would be in a rubber room,” Vanessa said, wearing a sour expression, which would seem to suggest animosity.
“You don’t get along?”
“With my father, it’s his way or the highway. Let’s just say that he has a problem with decisions I’ve made.”
“Which ones, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She sighed. “Oh, pretty much all of them. It’s kind of ironic if you think about it. There are people who dislike me because I’m too perfect, but in my dad’s eyes I’ve never done a single thing right.”
He couldn’t help thinking that must have been an exaggeration. No parent could be that critical. “Surely he’s pleased now that you’re planning to marry a king.”
“I could tell him I’m the new Mother Teresa and he’d find a way to write it off as a bad thing. Besides, I haven’t told him. The only person who knows where I am is my best friend Jessy.”
“Why keep it a secret?”
“I didn’t want to say anything to anyone until I knew for sure that I really was going to marry Gabriel.”
* * *
“What reason would you have not to marry him?” Marcus asked, and Vanessa hesitated. While she wanted to get to know Marcus better, she wasn’t sure how she felt about discussing the private details of her relationship with his father. But at the same time, she hated to clam up now, as this outing was definitely going better than expected. And as she sat there on the rough wool blanket in the shade, the salty ocean air cooling her sunbaked skin, her daughter playing happily between them, she felt a deep sense of peace that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
The first hour or so had been a bit like tiptoeing around in a minefield, her every move monitored, each word dissected for hidden meaning. But little by little she began to relax, and so did Marcus. The truth is, he was more like his father than she’d imagined. Sure, he was a bit intense at times, but he was very intelligent with a quick wit, and a wry sense of humor. And though it was obvious that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her—which wasn’t unusual as she always seemed to fall somewhere outside of people’s expectations—she had the feeling that maybe he was starting to like her. Or at the very least dislike her less. And he clearly adored Mia, who—the little flirt—hadn’t taken her eyes off him for hours.
“Unless you’d rather not discuss it,” Marcus said, his tone, and the glint of suspicion in his dark eyes, suggesting that she had something to hide.
She fidgeted with the corner of the blanket. Even though her relationship with Gabriel was none of his business, to not answer would look suspicious, but the truth might only validate his reservations about her. “My relationship with Gabriel is…complicated.”
“How complicated could it be? You love him, don’t you?”
There was a subtle accusation in his tone. Just when she thought things were going really well, when she believed he was having a change of heart, he was back to the business of trying to discredit her, to expose her as a fraud. Well, maybe she should just give him what he wanted. It didn’t seem as though it would make a difference at this point.
“I love him,” she said. “I’m just not sure I’m in love with him.”
“What’s the difference?”
Did he honestly not know, or did he think she didn’t? Or was he possibly just screwing with her? “Your father is an amazing human being. He’s smart and he’s kind and I respect him immensely. I love him as a friend, and I want him to be happy. I know that marrying me would make him happy, or at least he’s told me it will. And of course I would love for Mia to have someone to call Daddy.”
“But?” Marcus asked, leaning back on his arms, stretching his long legs out in front of him, as if he were settling in for a good story.
“But I want me to be happy, too. I deserve it.”
“My father doesn’t make you happy?”
“He does but…” She sighed. There was really no getting around this. “What are your feelings about intimacy before marriage?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “It’s immoral.”
His answer took her aback. “Well, this is a first.”
“What?”
“I’ve never met a twenty-eight-year-old virgin.”
His brows slammed together. “I never said that I’m…”
He paused, realizing that he’d painted himself into a corner, and the look on his face was priceless.
“Oh, so what you’re saying is, it’s only immoral for your father to be intimate before marriage. For you it’s fine?”
“My father is from a different generation. He thinks differently.”
“Well, that’s one thing you’re right about. And it’s a
big part of my problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“I believe two people should know whether or not they’re sexually compatible before they jump into a marriage, because let’s face it, sex is a very important part of a lasting relationship. Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose it is.”
“You suppose? Be honest. Would you marry a woman you’d never slept with?”
He hesitated, then said, “Probably not.”
“Well, Gabriel is so traditional he won’t even kiss me until we’re officially engaged. And he considers sex before the wedding completely out of the question.”
“You seriously want me to believe that you and my father have never…” He couldn’t seem to make himself say the words, which she found kind of amusing.
“Is that really so surprising? You said yourself he’s from a different generation. He didn’t have sex with your mom until their wedding night, and even then he said it took a while to get all the gears moving smoothly.”
Marcus winced.
“Sorry. TMI?”
“TMI?”
“Too much information?”
He nodded. “A bit.”
“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this, seeing as how it’s really none of your business. And nothing I say is going to change the way you feel about me.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“Maybe it’s that I’ve gone through most of my life being unfairly judged and I’m sick of it. I really shouldn’t care if you like me or not, but for some stupid reason, I still do.”
Marcus looked as if he wasn’t sure what to believe. “I don’t dislike you.”
“But you don’t trust me. Which is only fair, I guess, since I don’t trust you either.”
Seven
Instead of looking insulted, Marcus laughed, which completely confused Vanessa.
“You find that amusing?” she asked.
“What I find amusing is that you said it to my face. Do you ever have a thought that you don’t express?”
“Sometimes.” Like when she hadn’t told him how his pale gray linen pants hugged his butt just right, and the white silk short sleeved shirt brought out the sun-bronzed tones of his skin. And she didn’t mention how the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw made her want to reach up and touch his face. Or the curve of his mouth made her want to…well, never mind. “When I was a kid, every time I expressed an idea or a thought, my father shot it down. He had this way of making me feel inferior and stupid, and I’m not stupid. It just took a while to figure that out. And now I say what I feel, and I don’t worry about what other people think, because most of them don’t matter. When it comes to my self-worth, the only opinion that really matters is my own. And though it took a long time to get here, I’m actually pretty happy with who I am. Sure, my life isn’t perfect, and I still worry about making mistakes, but I know that I’m capable and smart, and if I do make a mistake, I’ll learn from it.”
“So what will you do?” he asked. “About my father, I mean. If he won’t compromise his principles.”
“I’m hoping that if we spend more time together, I’ll just know that it’s right.”
“You said it yourself, you’re a very beautiful woman, and my father seems to have very strong feelings for you. I’m quite certain that with little effort you could persuade him to compromise his principles.”
Was he actually suggesting she seduce Gabriel? And why, when Marcus said she was beautiful, did it cause a little shiver of delight? She’d heard the same words so many times from so many men, they had lost their significance. Why was he so different? And why did she care what he thought of her?
And why on earth had she started this conversation in the first place?
“I would never do that,” she told Marcus. “I respect him too much.”
Mia began to fuss and Vanessa jumped on the opportunity to end this strange and frankly inappropriate chat. No matter what she did or said, or how she acted, the situation with Marcus just seemed to get weirder and weirder.
“I should get her back to the palace and down for a nap. And I could probably use one too.” She was still on L.A. time, and despite being exhausted last night, she’d slept terribly.
He pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Together they cleaned up the picnic, and to Vanessa’s surprise, Marcus lifted Mia up and held her while she folded the blanket. Even more surprising was how natural he appeared holding her, and how, when she reached to take her back, Mia clung to him and laid her head on his shoulder.
Little traitor, she thought, but she couldn’t resist smiling. “I guess she wants you,” she told Marcus, who looked as if he didn’t mind at all.
They gathered the rest of their things and walked back to the limo waiting in the marina parking lot. They piled into the air-conditioned backseat, and she buckled Mia into her car seat. She expected that they would go straight back to the palace but instead, Marcus had the driver stop outside one of the shops they had visited earlier and went inside briefly. He came out several minutes later carrying a small bag that he slipped into his pants pocket before climbing back in the car, and though she was curious as to what was in it, she didn’t ask, for fear of opening up yet another can of worms. He’d probably picked out a gift for his girlfriend. Because men who looked the way he did, and were filthy rich princes, always had a lady friend—if not two or three. And according to Gabriel, his son was never short on female companionship.
Mia fell asleep on the ride back, and when they pulled up to the front doors to the palace, before Vanessa had a chance, Marcus unhooked her from the car seat and plucked her out.
“I can carry her,” she told him.
“I’ve got her,” he said, and not only did he carry her all the way up to the nursery, he laid her in her crib and covered her up, the way a father would if Mia had one. And somewhere deep down a part of Vanessa ached for all the experiences her daughter had missed in her short life. Because she knew what it was like to lose a parent, to miss that connection. She hoped with all her heart that Gabriel could fill the void, that these months without a father hadn’t left a permanent scar on Mia.
“She was really good today,” he said, grinning down at Mia while she slept soundly.
“She’s a pretty easygoing baby. You saw her at her very worst yesterday.”
Vanessa let Karin know to listen for Mia so she could take a quick nap herself—thinking this nanny business was sort of nice after all—then Marcus walked her down the hall to her room. She stopped at the door and turned to him. “Thank you for taking me to the village today. I actually had a really good time.”
One brow lifted a fraction. “And that surprises you?”
“Yeah, it does. I figured it could go either way.”
The corners of his mouth crept up into a smile and those dimples dented his cheeks. Which made her heart go pitter-patter. He was too attractive for his own good. And hers.
“Too honest for you?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I think I’m getting used to it.”
Well, that was a start.
“My father would like me to take you to the history museum tomorrow,” he said.
“Oh.”
One brow rose. “Oh?”
“Well, I’m still pretty exhausted from the trip and I thought a day to just lie around by the pool might be nice. Mia loves playing in the water and I desperately need a tan. Back home I just never seem to have time to catch any sun. And you don’t need to feel obligated to hang out with us. I’m sure you have things you need to do.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am.”
“Then we can see the museum another day?”
She nodded. “That would be perfect.”
He started to turn, then paused and said, “Oh, I almost forgot.”
He pulled the bag from the shop out of his pocket and handed it to her. “This is for you.”
Perplexed, s
he took it from him. “What is it?”
“Look and see.”
She opened the bag and peered inside, her breath catching when she recognized the contents. “But…how did you know?”
“I saw you admiring them.”
He didn’t miss a thing, did he?
She pulled the earrings from the bag. They were handcrafted with small emeralds set inside delicate silver swirls, and she’d fallen in love with them the instant she’d seen them in the shop, but at one hundred and fifty euros they had been way out of her budget.
“Marcus, they’re lovely.” She looked up at him. “I don’t get it.”
Hands hooked casually in his pants pockets, he shrugged. “If you had been there with my father, I don’t doubt that he would have purchased them on the spot. It’s what he would have wanted me to do.”
She couldn’t help but think that this meant something. Something significant. “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you so much.”
“What is it you Americans say? It’s not a big deal?”
No, it was a very big deal.
It bothered her when Gabriel bought her things. It was as if he felt it necessary to buy her affections. But Marcus had no reason to buy her anything, other than the fact that he wanted to. It came from the heart. More so than any gift Gabriel had gotten her—or at least, that was the way she saw it.
Swallowing back tears of pure happiness—unsure of why it even mattered so much to her—she smiled and said, “I should go. Gabriel will be Skyping me soon.”
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She watched him walk down the hall until he disappeared around the corner, then slipped into her room and shut the door behind her. Knowing how much it meant to Gabriel, she had really been hoping that she and Marcus could be friends. And now it seemed that particular wish might actually come true.
* * *
Marcus pushed off the edge of the pool for his final lap, his arms slicing through the water, heavy with fatigue due to the extra thirty minutes he’d spent in the pool pondering his earlier conversation with Vanessa. If what she said was true, and she and his father hadn’t been intimate, what else could have possibly hooked him in? Her youth, and the promise of a fresh beginning, maybe?
Princess in the Making Page 6