After a quick call to the hotel ensuring that the prince--no, she couldn't deal with thinking of him that way--that Antone was still staying there in the same room, she called for a car and then spent the longest half hour of her life trying to figure out what she'd say to a man she hadn't seen or heard from since he'd slept with her two weeks before.
Somehow, she didn't think, "Hi there, I'm carrying your offspring, and by the way, my name is Tess." was going to cut it. If only she'd had more time--maybe a month or two--to prepare.
Even the drive seemed so much shorter than it had before, and when she pulled up in front of those wide marble steps for the second time, it was with the same feeling of all-consuming impending doom.
"Luca," Antone yelled for his head of security over his shoulder, but when he heard no sign of movement outside the door, he went on packing, gritting his teeth as he shoved one shirt after another into his case.
Glad as he was to head back to Napoline, he saw no reason to pack his things just yet. The jet fuel inspector hadn't gotten on site as far as he'd heard, and the pilot was still checking the airways for safe passage.
There was no reason he couldn't sit back with a nice glass of whiskey and reflect on his trip. Or, more specifically, the night he'd spent with that sultry American woman two weeks before.
Thank god for foreign travel. If she'd been from Napoline, he might have broken his streak of one-night stands and given her another go.
He smiled wryly, thinking of exactly what he'd do on that second visit while zipping his suitcase closed.
"Luca," he called again, but then there was a loud, insistent pounding on the walnut hotel room door, and he crossed the suite in a few bounds to swing it open.
"What is the--" He stopped short, finding the same huge green eyes he'd just been thinking of staring back at him.
For a moment, he was transfixed, but then Luca was beside her, gripping her firmly by the shoulder. "I'm sorry, your highness. She slipped past the first guys, and then she sort of--well--she--"
"I pulled a feint," she said. "But it was only because he said I couldn't see you and we really have to talk."
He held his breath, surveying her for a long moment. He wished this were the first time this had happened--women trying to sneak past his security, making pleas for more time with him. It was a trademark of two kinds of women: Either the kind that couldn't separate love from sex or the kind who had been hoping their one night together was a window to something more lucrative.
He wasn't sure which she was, but either way he couldn't help himself from being disappointed.
"I am very sorry," he said at last. "Our departure is any moment now, and I must insist you leave."
She blinked at him, her eyes thoughtful as ever, but then, like a flash, she jumped into the room and slammed the door behind her, bracing her whole body against it. "Look, I know you have important stuff to do," she huffed, "But you're really going to want to hear this."
"I am sure you are a very sweet girl, but you must understand, you have to go. If you do not, these men may hurt you, and I would not want to see that happen."
"I'm pregnant."
He wasn't sure he heard her right. In fact, if she hadn't practically shouted it, he might have asked her to repeat herself. But there was no doubting it.
The door bumped hard behind her, and he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the bed.
When it sprang open and Luca burst in, taser in tow, Antone held up his hand. "I must speak with her. My bag is on the table. I will alert you when I am ready."
"But Your Highness--"
"Go." He turned cold eyes on his friend, and the other man nodded before dragging Antone's overstuffed suitcase from the room. When the door clicked closed behind him, Antone leaned against the wall opposite the bed and raised his eyebrows.
He had to confess, he hadn't expected that she was a gold digger. She'd seemed so honest, so demure when they'd been together. In fact, she'd even felt like a virgin that night.
But then, that went to show what fame and fortune turned people into, he supposed. He, of all people, should not have been surprised.
"I must commend you on your acting," he said, his veins turning icy as he met her gaze again. Even now, she seemed so earnest. So concerned. "You must have really done a number on all sorts of men."
"I-I don't know what..."
"I suppose you saw my picture in the paper and all the pieces lined up for you? You must have felt like you hit the jackpot. I have to say, I suspected you were a virgin that night, but clearly..." He gestured toward her, and then a bitter smile touched his lips. "That is, if you're even pregnant. How much were you hoping to get from me?"
"Antone--"
"Your Highness," he corrected.
"Your Highness." Then, suddenly, that nervous air was gone and her full lips became a hard, straight line. "I am pregnant with your child. I was a virgin that night."
"We used protection," he countered.
"It's not always a hundred percent. Or it could have been expired. Do you keep them in your wallet?"
"It was not expired," he ground out.
"Either way, no matter how it happened, it happened." She took a deep breath, then met his gaze.
"I want a paternity test."
"I told you, I was a virgin," she said, the slightest edge to her voice.
"And I should take your word?" What kind of idiot did she think he was?
"Fine, you know what? I'll take it. That doesn't matter. And whatever you think, I didn't come here for your money."
"A waitress from Brooklyn didn't come here for my money? Now I have truly seen everything in the world."
For a moment, she looked as if he'd slapped her, then she straightened, and spoke again, each of her words slow and measured. "I did not plan on this any more than you did, and I will give you whatever you ask for. I don't want anything from you. I only came here because I felt you had a right to know that you will have a child in this world."
She heaved another deep breath, and then said, "I don't want to be tied to you any more than you want to be tied to me. You are a stranger, and I am perfectly fine with continuing our lives as separately as they were before or they might have been if we'd never met."
"You think I am the sort of man who would leave behind my son and heir?"
"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying this baby deserves a normal life, and I intend to give him--or her--one. With or without you. Now, if you do want to see the baby, I am open to as much or as little visitation as you'd like."
"Visitation? This is your idea of giving our child--if he is mine--a normal life?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Considering the fact that it's not 1950 anymore? Yes. Lots of parents share custody of their children."
"Not from separate countries."
"Sure they do. Anything is possible. We can web chat--"
"Enough." The word came out harsher than he'd intended, but it still had the desired effect. Her mouth snapped shut almost instantly, and though she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, he knew he had her attention.
"No matter how you feel, this child would be heir to my country. A child cannot rule if they do not live in their country. I simply will not allow it."
"Thank god you're not my king, then," she shot back.
"I do not think you understand what has happened here."
"I understand perfectly well. You're some kind of control freak who wants--"
"I am some kind of father who will not have his son called a bastard and mocked for the rest of his life. I will not allow my child to be brought up in some hovel by a stranger," he spat.
"By his mother."
"Who cannot give him even a tenth of what I can." He cut across her words easily, and she opened her mouth, then closed it. Good. No matter how thick-skulled she apparently was, she could not deny the benefits of raising a child with the best of everything.
"I'm glad you finally see things
my way," he said.
"I said nothing of the kind. I'm just--I can't--" Her cheeks flooded bright red, and she huffed out a breath. "I'm so mad I could spit."
"You are--"
"I won't raise my child to be some privileged spoiled brat just because I made the mistake of giving my virginity to a man who doesn't understand the benefits of being a normal person."
"Then I am afraid you will not raise the child at all."
"You can't--" she spluttered, but he cut her off.
"But I can. You do not have a choice in this matter. You are carrying my son, whether or not either of us likes it. I will not leave him in the care of a stranger, and once it is proven that the child is, in fact, mine, you will come with me to Napoline so that I can ensure his care, safety, and education."
"Then I guess you'll have to live with the mystery, won't you?" She hitched her tiny bohemian bag higher on her shoulder, then stormed toward the door.
He sprinted after her, and she burst into a run as soon as she heard his step.
"Luca!" he yelled, but when he rounded the door of the hotel room, it was to find the other man thoroughly distracted with swearing into a radio communicator.
Not that it mattered. Now that he knew there was a chance he might have a child in this world, he wasn't going anywhere until he knew for sure.
And if the child was his?
Then Tess the mother would have to be his as well--whether she liked it or not.
4
"Sir, your sister has called again. Your father can delay his trip no longer. He's leaving this evening and desires your return." Luca spoke to him softly, like he was wheedling a lion into a cage, and though the tone was not to Antone’s liking, he couldn't say that he blamed the man.
For the past two days--ever since Tess Strickland had stalked into his hotel room and turned his life upside down--Antone had said little more than two syllables to anyone. He was too busy crafting his strategy. Laying in wait and deciding his next move.
Every morning he sent his staff out for every copy of the paper and he checked the Google Alerts on his name frequently, but there had been nothing save for mentions of his appearance in the States and the success of the gala from weeks past.
Not that that proved anything. If Tess was going to go public with her pregnancy, she might simply be waiting too. Holding her cards close to her vest so she could get a sense of his movements, of his motive. She knew how to hold her cards.
He just had to call her bluff.
"Sir, I must insist--" Luca started again, but Antone held up a hand to silence the other man.
"Which of my darling sisters are you speaking with?" Antone asked.
"Princess Ellaria."
Antone rolled his eyes. She would be the one to call. As next in line to the throne after him, the job of ruling the kingdom would fall to her in the case of both his father's and his own absence. Heaven forbid she have to feel the weight of such a responsibility.
"And Regina?" He inquired after his younger sister. Sweeter than the middle child, he knew she'd likely have his back if he chose to stay another few days. After all, a few more days was all he'd need to coax Tess Strickland out of her hidey hole and--
"Princess Regina is in Bali for the next several months, your highness."
Antone gritted his teeth.
"What shall I tell Princess Ellaria?"
"Tell her I'll be home tomorrow morning." Antone folded his arms over his chest, then added, "And tell her to ready the guest wing."
"Sir--"
"That is all." He silenced Luca with a single glance, and then the other man was out of the room, the sound of his call muffled by the closed door. So, his hand was forced. That was fine.
There were other ways to win.
Two hours later, Antone's town car pulled up outside a nondescript brownstone in the middle of Brooklyn. On a quick glance, he noted the tiny dots of light edging the frame of the living room window and he wrinkled his nose.
It wasn't Christmas. Why on Earth would she have lights like that in her window? And why was there a young man in a large puffy jacket sitting on her stoop in the middle of October?
Pushing the query aside, he motioned to his guards and stepped from the vehicle. He pulled his coat tighter around him, rehearsing in his mind exactly what it was he wanted to say. He'd no doubt that in the days since he last seen her, she’d formulated even more arguments against him, but this time he wouldn't allow her to slip away.
This time he was in charge.
And with that in mind, he knocked on her door with three decisive raps. Quickly, he glanced behind him to ensure that Luca and his other security guards were still in tow, and then he turned to the door again waiting to hear the sound of her soft footfalls approaching.
Instead, he heard a gentle scratching on the other side of the door at the very bottom. Like an animal trying to burrow their way out, one meticulous paw at a time. Taking another deep breath, he rapped again, this time more forcefully. Before long he heard her.
He wasn't sure why, but something inside his chest tightened. Even in all of his international meetings he never once felt this way. Like he was in the face of imminent danger and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. But he was trapped.
Still, there was something about this that excited him. Whether it was the thrill of negotiation, the chance of actually having air, or even seeing Tess again he couldn't say. All he knew was this thrill that holed up in his chest and made his shoulders rise.
Then, the door opened and there she was.
Or at least he thought it was her. This wasn't the elegant woman from the night at the Gala, all decked out in her white silk. Nor was it the bohemian chic woman who'd practically knocked down his door to days before. No, this woman had a mass of brown hair that was piled messily on top of her head, her heart shaped face obscured by a pair of too big coke bottle glasses. Her hourglass frame swallowed whole by a floral, purple mumu.
On her feet were a pair of fuzzy orange socks and curled up at her ankles was a matching orange cat. He glanced from the mewling feline to Tess' resolutely indignant expression, her too-big glasses magnifying the way her eyes narrowed as she looked him over.
"Your Highness." She frowned.
"Miss Strickland." He nodded, waiting for her to invite him in. When no such courtesy was extended, he glanced toward Luca and gave him a slight nod.
She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a deep sigh through her nose. "What can I do for you? I'd thought our business together was finished."
"May I please come in?" He craned around to see the dark interior of her house, but the cat at her feet hissed and he settled back.
"I don't see why I would want you in my home," she countered.
"Because I may be the father of your child."
"May be?" She scowled and the knot of brown hair on top of her hair wobbled.
"Tess--"
"Nope." She shook her head and the knot of hair on top of her head wobbled. "No. You do not get to call me that."
"What? Your name?"
"I'm Miss. Strickland to you if I'm anything at all."
Anyone sucked in his cheeks. She wanted to play hardball? Fine, they'd play hardball.
"Tess." He tried again and her eyes blazed with fire. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but paternity technology has come a long way in the past several years. I've come with a drug store test. It's noninvasive and if you'll just--"
Suddenly, the heat in Tess' eyes blazed again and she practically snarled as she said, "Are you kidding me? You came here unannounced to my house in order to get me to take a paternity test? You must be out of your--"
Antone held up a hand. "This, I'm afraid, is the easy way. If you truly are carrying my child, I will stop at nothing to know the truth. And I will be ruthless in discovering it, do you understand?"
She blinked, color rising in her cheeks, but without another word she stepped aside and nodded for him to come in.
&nb
sp; He followed her into the dark little foyer, but when his men moved to join him she held out her hand to bar them from the entrance.
"My security--" Antone started, but she shook her head.
"Are not welcome in my home. You want to know if you are the father of this child? That's fine, but the matter will stay between us. I'm not inviting your media circus into my life."
He frowned and glanced from Luca to Tess and back again. It couldn't hurt to give her one concession, could it? After all, if the child was his...
He couldn't think about that. Not before he knew for sure.
With a nod, he motioned for Luca to wait outside and then he held out his hand for the test. Reluctantly, Luca handed it over and Tess unceremoniously clicked the door closed in his face.
"I expect they've earned a little break from you anyway," she added.
Despite himself, he smiled. "That's probably true."
With one hand, she reached for the test and he passed it off to her. "You'll find my swabs already inside the packaging. The test is painless and--"
"Right." She nodded, not bothering to look at him. "I'll read the instructions."
Wordlessly, she turned on her heel and stalked toward the little door beneath the stairs. Then, after opening the door, she stepped in and disappeared inside.
For a moment, he stared at the door, unsure of what to think or expect. For the past few days, he'd weighed his options, thought about every possible outcome in the most logical way possible. But now, seeing her again...
He might be a father. This woman might be carrying his child. A piece of himself.
Unbidden, a powerful sense of longing swelled in his chest and for the first time since Tess Strickland had stormed his hotel room, he thought of what it might be like to have a child. To hold his infant in his arms. To know that his country would have an heir.
But then, if the baby was his, Tess would have to be his as well. She would be his queen.
This woman who hung Christmas lights from her window in August.
He stepped into the living room and glanced around, eyeing the second-hand furniture and the large metal-worked hangings on the walls. Elephants of all different shapes, sizes, and colors breathed life into the white-walled space and blankets of all different colors and patterns were slung over the neutral-colored couch.
Seduced by the Stranger Page 3