The Prince's Second Chance

by Brenda Harlen

  “So is that the real reason you’re dragging me along?” she pressed. “Am I your chaperone—so he doesn’t pressure you to go too far?”

  Gabriella pushed her hair back off her forehead and sent her daughter a baleful glance. “Honestly, Sierra, you have the most vivid imagination.”

  “I wasn’t imagining the way he was looking at you.”

  “I’m not worried about Cameron behaving inappropriately,” her mother insisted.

  “Because you’re as hot for him as he is for you?”

  Gabriella’s cheeks flushed. “Sierra.”

  It was her don’t-mess-with-me tone and usually succeeded in getting her daughter to back down. But the color in her face confirmed that Sierra wasn’t far off the mark. Not that she could blame her mother for being attracted—Cameron was incredibly good-looking, for an old guy, and he was a real-life prince, too. In any event, she knew there was more going on here than her mother was telling her, and she wasn’t going to let up until she got to the truth.

  Except that before she could say anything else, Cameron was at the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Twenty minutes later, they were at the harbor. Sierra didn’t want to be impressed, but it was impossible not to be. She didn’t know anything about boats and couldn’t even have guessed at the size of the yacht—except to say that it was huge, and gorgeous. It shone brilliantly in the afternoon sun—as stunningly white as a pearl in the sapphire blue waters, and when she stepped onto the glossy wood deck, she felt as if she’d stepped into another world.

  Cameron gave them a quick tour. She had expected that the inside would be dim, but it wasn’t, as natural light shone through wide windows on every side. There was an enormous saloon with more glossy wood cabinets and tables with leather stools, cushy leather sofas and an impressive home theatre system, a small office, a master cabin with ensuite, plus two more guest cabins, each with its own private bath, and separate crew quarters.

  While he’d been showing them around, the yacht had been making its way away from the island. When they finished the tour and returned to the main saloon, she was surprised by how much distance they’d put between themselves and the shore in such a short time.

  “Are you hungry?” Cameron asked.

  Sierra shrugged, trying to act casual.

  “Starved,” Gabriella admitted, shooting her daughter a look that Sierra chose to ignore.

  “Good.” He smiled at both of them, his even white teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Emilio has set up lunch on the deck, if that’s acceptable. Or we can eat inside, if you’d prefer.”

  “Outside,” Sierra answered automatically, before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to care.

  “Gabriella?” he prompted.

  There was something about the way he said the name that made it sound like a caress, and the color that infused her mother’s cheeks confirmed that she’d heard it, as well.

  “Outside sounds wonderful,” Gabriella agreed.

  He gestured for them to precede him, and again, Sierra had to give him points for presentation. The table had been set for three, with linens and fancy crystal and silverware that was probably the real deal and not the stainless steel stuff in their own drawer at home.

  Cameron and her mother chatted easily over the meal, almost as if they really were old friends, and Sierra found herself wondering if maybe she’d been wrong about their relationship. But when he reached over and casually touched the back of her mother’s hand and Gabriella’s fork slipped from her fingers, she knew that she hadn’t been wrong at all.

  “Do you like to swim?” he asked, turning his attention to Sierra.

  She nodded, because the fact that she did was one of the reasons she’d thought the afternoon on his yacht might not be a total bust.

  “Then you should take a dip after lunch,” he suggested, lifting his glass of wine. “The water out here is heavenly.”

  Yeah, he’d probably love for her to take a swim—while he put the moves on her mother.

  “I can’t swim,” she said, holding up her arm in case he’d forgotten about the cast on it. Which he probably had, because he was too preoccupied with thoughts of getting her mother naked to worry about something as insignificant as her broken wrist.

  “Sierra.” Her mother’s sharp response warned that she hadn’t missed the disdainful tone of her daughter’s voice. “Dr. Granger gave me some waterproof sleeves, if you want to go in the water.”

  The prince, to his credit, responded smoothly. “Or you could try the jet ski if you don’t want to swim.”

  “Jet ski?” she echoed, her interest piqued despite herself.

  “As long as it’s okay with your mother,” he hastened to add.

  Now she did look at Gabriella, trying to convey a mixture of apology and pleading in her gaze. Her mother’s hesitation was a warning to Sierra that she expected her best behavior from this point on. She gave a brief nod to telegraph her understanding.

  “It’s okay with me,” Gabriella finally said. “As long as you have your cast covered and wear a life jacket.”

  Sierra opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again without uttering a word.

  “Impressive,” Cameron said to Gabriella later.

  Lunch had been cleared away and they had taken their wine where they could watch Sierra who, now properly attired, was making waves out on the water.

  “She’s always loved the water,” she told him.

  “It shows,” he said. “Although I wasn’t talking about that.”

  Gabriella looked over at him. “Then what were you talking about?”

  “The wordless communication between the two of you.”

  “It’s not always as effective as I’d like,” she said. “Which leads into my turn to apologize to you. She was being deliberately difficult and I don’t know why.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “She’s a teenager, which is probably enough of an explanation for a lot of her behavior, but it was more than that today.”

  “The ‘more than that’ being her feelings about the relationship between you and I?”

  “That’s exactly it,” she admitted. “She’s somehow got it into her head that we’re more than friends and—”

  “We are more than friends,” he said.

  The hand she’d raised to reach for her glass dropped away. “We have a history,” she acknowledged.

  “I think I understand now why she’s worried.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “Because our daughter is obviously more insightful than you are.”

  “Cameron.”

  “Gabriella.”

  She frowned at the amusement evident in his tone.

  “After the kiss we shared in the park, do you really doubt that I’m attracted to you?”

  “Considering your reputation, the fact that I’m female should be enough to assuage my doubts,” she told him.

  He shifted closer. “If you’re trying to distract me by making me mad, it’s not going to work.”

  “Didn’t I make it clear, after that kiss, that you were wasting your time?”

  “That’s what you said,” he agreed. “But I don’t think it’s what you meant.”

  She swallowed, glanced away. “I’m not playing hard to get—I promise you. I just can’t risk getting involved with you again.”

  “Because of Sierra?” he guessed.

  “I want her to get to know you and have a relationship with you. But I don’t want her to hope that we’ll end up together like one big happy family.”

  “Because that’s not what you want?”

  Because it was what she wanted, more than anything. But she could hardly admit as much to Cameron. He’d already broken her heart once before—she wasn’t going to give him the power to do so again.

  “I’m trying to be realistic here, Cameron.”

  “Reality’s overrated.”

  “Said the prince from his ivory tower,” she
retorted.

  “Being royal has given me a lot of advantages,” he acknowledged. “It has also presented a unique set of challenges.”

  “I’ll bet none of those challenges included siphoning money from the grocery fund to pay the electrical bill so that the little food you had in the fridge didn’t spoil.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it was for you, struggling to hold down a job and raise a child. And while I can tell you now that I would have helped, the words don’t change anything.”

  “No,” she agreed, then reached over to take his hand. “But thank you, anyway.”

  “I hate knowing that you didn’t come to me because you didn’t trust me not to turn you away. Because I had already turned you away.”

  “It was a long time ago,” she reminded him.

  He reached out, wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, and tugged gently. The unexpected gesture threw her off-balance, and she had to step forward or risk stumbling.

  “Gone but not forgotten?”

  She had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, but pride wouldn’t let her step away again. “What does that mean?”

  “You keep saying that there’s no point in dwelling on the past, that it’s the future that matters. But you refuse to consider that we could have a future together, and I can’t help but think that you’re reticent because you haven’t let go of the past.”

  “Maybe I’m reticent because I’ve never known you to talk about anything further into the future than dinner.”

  “Ouch.” He dropped his hand from his hair, wrapped it around her waist. “So what if I did want to make plans for dinner?”

  She could feel the strength in his arm, the heat of his touch, and had to swallow before she could speak. “We just finished lunch.”

  “We didn’t have dessert.”

  “Sierra made brownies,” she reminded him. Not that the brownies had been made specifically for this occasion, it was just that Sierra had been playing around in the kitchen and Gabriella had pilfered half of the pan to bring on this outing. Despite knowing that Cameron had a chef, she didn’t like to show up empty-handed.

  “Then we should wait for Sierra to have those. In the meantime…” His head lowered toward her.

  Gabriella put her hand on his chest. “Don’t play games with me, Cameron.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “My brain is spinning in circles right now so that I can’t seem to figure any of this out. You invited us here today so that you could spend some time with Sierra—”

  “And with you,” he told her.

  And when he looked at her like that, his eyes burning so intently with heat and hunger, she believed him. More, she felt herself responding.

  “This is a mistake,” she warned him.

  But even before the words were completely out of her mouth, the hand that she’d laid on his chest curled into the fabric of his shirt.

  His mouth came down on hers, hard and hungry; her lips parted for him, eager and willing. She could taste the wine they’d both drunk, and the darker and more potent flavor of the passion that flared between them. Her hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Her fingers toyed with the strands of hair that brushed his collar, so soft and silky in contrast to the lean, hard body pressed against hers.

  She felt weak and hot and dizzy, and though she wished she could blame the hot Mediterranean sun, she knew her response had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the man. She’d always responded to him like this, completely and instinctively. And while she’d once thrilled to the discovery of such intense and all-consuming desire, she was embarrassed and ashamed to realize that she could still feel such depth of emotion for a man who had broken her heart—and a lot of other hearts, too.

  He was used to having whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, women included. She had been one of those women once, willingly and happily, but she wouldn’t let herself be cast in that same role again. Not just because she wanted to protect her heart, but because she wanted to provide a better example for her daughter.

  The daughter who, even now, could be on her way back to the boat.

  She pulled away from him. “I can’t do this.”

  Cameron took a minute to draw in a breath before he responded. “I’d say we were doing just fine.”

  “We both know how to go through the motions,” she agreed. “But it’s never been just that for me. I can’t separate the wants of my body from the needs of my heart.”

  “And you assume that I can?”

  “I’d say that history speaks for itself.”

  “Gone but not forgotten,” he said again.

  She shook her head. “I’m not referring to our history but your reputation.”

  “Deserved or not?” he challenged.

  “Cameron, I work in the newspaper industry. I know as well as anyone that information is sometimes slanted, the truth is often stretched, and headlines are frequently exaggerated. But I also know it’s a fact that you’ve dated more women in the past year than a lot of men date in their entire lifetimes.”

  Cameron had never been particularly concerned about his reputation, nor about the fact that it had been greatly exaggerated through the media. He enjoyed spending time in a woman’s company, and he’d been fortunate that a lot of women seemed to enjoy his company in turn.

  “But not one of those women—not any one that I’ve ever dated, in fact—has ever made me forget about you,” he told Gabriella.

  “Cameron, we haven’t had any contact in more than sixteen years.” She spoke patiently, as if she was talking to a dim-witted child. “You probably didn’t even remember I existed until the photos of you with Princess Leticia were published.”

  She was wrong, but he didn’t know how to convince her of the truth. He could hardly blame her for being skeptical. After the weekend they’d spent at Cielo del Norte, he’d realized that he was more than halfway in love with her—and he’d panicked. He was only twenty years old, still in college and with no real direction for his future—what did he know about love? How could he know for certain that she was “the one” when there were so many women out there? So many women who wanted to be with him?

  He’d decided to take some time to figure things out. He’d promised to call her, but he didn’t. As anxious as he was to hear her voice, he refused to give in, refused to admit—even to himself—how much he needed her. Because needing someone was a weakness, and weaknesses could be exploited, and those of royal blood could not afford to be weak.

  The day that she’d tracked him down on campus, he’d been so happy to see her, but he’d pretended that he didn’t even remember her name. He’d been deliberately cruel, acting as if the time they’d spent together had meant nothing to him. And still, she’d had the courage to look him straight in the eye and confide her suspicion that she might be pregnant. That was when the real panic had set in.

  Afterward, he’d thrown himself at other women, desperate to forget about Gabriella. Eventually, over time, the memories faded. But he’d never truly forgotten her. No one else’s arms had ever felt so right around him, no one else’s kisses had ever touched him so deep inside. No one else had ever loved him as freely and unconditionally as she had done, if only for a short while.

  He’d been such a fool. He’d missed out on so much time with Gabriella—and the entire first sixteen years of Sierra’s life—because he’d been a selfish and self-centered fool. That was time that he could never get back and, because he’d so completely and effectively isolated Gabriella so many years before, it was entirely possible that he’d blown any hope for the future, too.

  “I guess it’s going to take some time to convince you that I’m not the man the press has portrayed me to be.”

  “You don’t need to convince me of anything,” she said. “But if you say you want a relationship with Sierra, you be
tter mean it. She needs a father who will be there for her, even—or maybe especially—when she’s pretending that she doesn’t need you at all.”

  “I’ll be there for her,” he promised.

  And I’ll be there for you, he silently vowed. Even when you’re pretending that you don’t need me at all.

  The sound of the jet ski grew louder, signaling Sierra’s return. “Why don’t you and I take that swim Sierra claimed she didn’t want?” he suggested. “Then maybe she’ll be enticed to join us.”

  “The water does look inviting,” Gabriella admitted.

  “Go put on your bathing suit,” Cameron encouraged.

  While she was changing, he did the same, and they were both ready by the time Sierra had returned. She declined the invitation to join them, opting instead to plug into her iPod and blast out her eardrums. Cameron decided that she needed some time, and turned his attention to the woman by his side.

  “Maybe we should just head back,” she suggested. “I know this day isn’t turning out quite how you’d planned.”

  “I have no complaints,” he assured her. “Unless you renege on your promise to go swimming with me.”

  With a shrug, she pulled off her cover-up. It dropped onto the deck—right beside Cameron’s jaw.

  Even at seventeen, Gabriella had the kind of beauty that stopped men in their tracks and the type of body that inspired them to fantasize about her. And he’d spent a lot of long, lonely nights doing just that before he’d finally known the pleasure of that sweet, lush body stretched out beneath him, wrapped around him, moving against him. She was somehow even more beautiful now, her body even more lush and breathtaking. And while the two-piece bathing suit she wore was modest by current standards, just one glance and his blood—already pumping hard and fast through his veins—quickly detoured south.

  Oh man, he was in trouble here. Big trouble. And he suddenly found himself questioning the wisdom of getting half-naked with a woman who had always turned him on more than any other. Not that he would tell her as much, of course. Because even if he was foolish enough to make such a confession, she would never believe him. It was going to take time—time and a concerted effort—to break through Gabriella’s resistance and convince her that the feelings he had for her were real.