The Prince's Cinderella Bride

by Christine Rimmer

  “When there’s surgery, it’s always dangerous—and Mama and Papi need you. They’re getting older and they need their only daughter close.” Leave it to Carlos to play the guilt card early and often.

  She reminded herself it was just more manipulation. “If they need me, I will be here. So far, they seem to be doing just fine.”

  “You are so selfish, mi’ja. You always have been. You do what you want and you don’t care who gets hurt.” Great. Two minutes alone with him and he already had the heavy equipment out excavating the pain of the past.

  Deep breaths. Calm words. “What’s going on here, Carlos? I mean, what’s really going on?”

  He strode out to the edge of the deck and stared off through the darkness, his broad back held stiffly, chest out. A wrestler in high school and college, Carlos never gave up until he had his opponent’s shoulders pinned to the mat in a match-winning three-second hold. “Martina and I are in San Antonio most of the time now. No one’s close if they need us.”

  She went for the positives. “Really, it’s not that bad. I admit I haven’t been here enough. But I will come more often, and be ready to fly back anytime it’s necessary. And it’s an hour flight for you.”

  He made a humphing sound. “You’re the daughter. It’s your duty to be here for your mother and father.”

  “Seriously?” she asked, with excruciating sweetness. “Do you even have a clue how sexist that sounds?”

  He whirled on her, black eyes flashing. “You have a duty, Yoli, after all they’ve done for you.”

  She kept her head high. “Maybe I do. But that’s between Mama and Papi and me. And whether or not I ought to move back to Texas has got nothing to do with why I asked you to come out here and speak with me privately. Carlos, you lied and you manipulated me to get me here. It was wrong, what you did.”

  He dropped into the iron chair by the railing and stared out at the backyard again. “You’re getting way too damn reasonable, you know that? In the old days, you’d be crying and carrying on and calling me all kinds of names by now.”

  “It so happens I grew up.” She waited for him to meet her eyes again. He didn’t. “You need to stop thinking of me as some spoiled eighteen-year-old. I made some terrible choices and I hurt the people I love, including you. I know that. I live with that, will live with that, for the rest of my life. I hope someday you can forgive me for all the trouble I caused.”

  “Of course I forgive you,” he grumbled. “You’re my sister. I love you.”

  “And I love you. But, Carlos, you were in the wrong to scare me like that about Papi.”

  He shocked her then—by busting to it. “All right. Yeah. It was wrong. I shouldn’t have made Papi’s condition sound worse than it is.”

  She went over and took the chair beside him. “And?”

  At last, he looked at her. His eyes were softer. She saw regret in them. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for...all the ways I’m being a douche. I just wanted you to come home. It doesn’t seem right, you living halfway around the world.”

  She did long for him to understand. “I love Montedoro, Carlito. My life is there now. It’s the home of my heart.”

  “Your home is with your family.”

  Here we go again. “Listen to me. You don’t get to decide what works for my life. You really need to stop imagining that you do.”

  He looked away, then slid her a sideways glance. “This guy, this prince...”

  She sat a little straighter. “His name is Max.”

  “There’s a lot of stuff online about you and him.”

  “I know. And in the tabloids, too. Don’t take any of it too seriously.”

  “There was even something about you and that SOB, McKneely.”

  She reached across the distance between their chairs and nudged his arm. “Don’t speak ill of the dead.” He made a sound low in his throat, but left it at that. She added, “It’s public knowledge. What can you do?”

  He held her gaze. “You’re taking it well.”

  “Hey. I try.”

  “You said at dinner that the—er, Max—is coming here Tuesday.”

  “Well, he was coming to support me in my hour of need, what with my father practically dying and all...”

  He scowled at her. “You made your point. Give it a rest.”

  “Now he’s just coming to meet my wonderful family, I guess.”

  “Are you going to marry him?”

  She’d known he would ask, and she had her answer ready. “At this point, that’s none of your business.”

  “So then, that’s a no?”

  “What part of ‘none of your business’ was unclear to you?”

  Carlos made more grumbling sounds. “I guess if you married him, you’d be a princess and live in the palace and never come home.”

  “Of course I would come home. I just promised I would, and more often, too. And can we worry about marriage when the time comes?” If it ever does.

  The back door opened. Martina stuck her head out. Carlos’s wife was every inch the dancer, graceful and slim, her long brown hair pulled up in a high, tight ponytail. A strong-minded, opinionated woman, Martina also had a big heart. From the first, she’d fit right into the Vasquez family. She gave Carlos a look of equal parts fire and tenderness. “Stop arguing, you two, and come inside.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Jorge came to the table for breakfast. He winced and groaned getting down into the chair, and he only had juice and a few spoonfuls of plain yogurt. But still. It did Lani’s heart good to see him sitting there, so proud of himself, so happy to have his family around him.

  She had missed him—missed all of them—she thought, as she sipped her coffee and ate her mother’s killer chorizo and eggs. They were dear to her and they loved her. And the emotional distance she had felt between herself and them since all the trouble eleven years ago?

  Gone. Vanished. She had created that distance, she realized now. She had erected barriers against them. And now that she no longer needed to wall herself off from them, the barriers had crumbled of their own accord.

  She didn’t approve of the way Carlos had tricked her to get her to come home, but her brother had been right that she needed to be there. Whatever happened with Max, she would do better by her family. She would get back to Texas more often.

  Whatever happened with Max...

  He was still coming to be with her, to meet her family. He seemed to really want to come. And she wanted him there, even if it was difficult and awkward and her brother and her parents asked all kinds of leading questions, even if they came right out and demanded to know if he had marriage on his mind.

  So what if they did ask? It would only prove they were braver than she was.

  Carlos said, “Now that we’re all here together and Papi is looking good, Martina and I have a little announcement to make.”

  Martina was blushing. Carlos took her hand and brought it to his lips. They shared a look of such joy and intimacy, Lani almost felt guilty watching them.

  Her mother clapped and cried out, “Oh! Already? I can hardly believe it.” She reached for Jorge’s hand.

  He took it, wrapped his other hand around it and declared, “I am a happy, happy man.”

  Carlos laughed. “We haven’t even told you what it is yet.”

  Iris chuckled. “As if we don’t already know.”

  “Could be I got a great deal on some restaurant equipment.”

  Iris sputtered and Martina said, “Carlos, don’t tease.”

  And Carlos finally came out with the big news. “Martina and I are having a baby.”

  Iris let out another happy cry and Jorge said, “Wonderful news.”

  Lani added her voice to the others. “That’s terrific. C
ongratulations.”

  And her mother jumped up to go hug Martina, while her father grabbed her brother’s arm and gave it a hearty, man-to-man squeeze. “You have made me so happy, my son.”

  Lani let their gladness wash over her. She was glad for them, for the new life that her brother and his wife would soon bring into the world. At the same time, she was suddenly far away from all of them, remembering her lost baby, who would be older than Nicky now. There would always be a certain empty place within her, a place that echoed with longing, a place that held only regret for the life her child would never have.

  But beneath the old sorrow, now there was something new. Something hopeful and scary, too. She was through with denials, through taking care of other people’s babies and telling herself that it was enough. One way or another, she was ready for happiness now, ready to make a family of her own.

  Max needed to know that.

  And not in a week or two, when they were back in Montedoro.

  Uh-uh. No more putting it off. No more making excuses for the things she didn’t have the courage to say. No going along as usual with secrets in her heart, no pretending that everything was okay when it wasn’t.

  He was coming tomorrow. And at the earliest opportunity, she would get him alone and tell him that she loved him—was in love with him. And also that, for her, everything had changed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The driver, Calvin, pulled the car to a stop in front of the redbrick house.

  “A minute,” said Max, before Calvin could get out.

  “Certainly, sir.” Calvin already had his door unlatched. He pulled it shut and glanced at the bodyguard, Joseph, in the seat beside him. But Joseph sat patiently, staring straight ahead.

  Max gazed out the tinted side window at the graceful sweep of lawn, the long front porch and the large front door with the arched fanlight in the top. The house seemed to him so completely American, long and low, a style they called midcentury ranch. Lani had grown up here. He could almost picture her, a little girl with black braids and scraped knees, riding a pink tricycle down the natural stone front walk.

  The door opened and the grown Lani came out, wearing jeans that hugged her beautiful curves and a light, lacy turquoise shirt. She closed the door behind her. And then for several seconds she just stood there on the porch, staring at the car.

  He stared back at her, something dark and hot and needful churning within him. He knew she couldn’t see him through the tinted glass. Still, he felt the connection anyway. Strong. Urgent. Unbreakable.

  Or at least that was what he kept telling himself, even if sometimes lately she seemed to be pulling away from him.

  She emerged from under the shadow of the porch roof. The spring sunshine caught deep red gleams in her black hair as she came down the walk to the car.

  He pushed open the door.

  She leaned in. “Change your mind about staying?” He reached out, snared her arm and dragged her inside. “Max!”

  He pulled the door closed, pressed his nose to her smooth throat and breathed in the unforgettable scent of her. “I wanted a minute or two alone first.”

  She shot a glance at the two in the front seat. “We’re not alone.”

  He ran up the privacy screen. “Now. Be quiet. Kiss me.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He tasted her sweetness, stroked her silky hair, considered telling Joseph and Calvin to take a long walk. But there was her family to consider. “I suppose they’re waiting in there, wondering what I’m up to.”

  She grinned, though her eyes seemed somehow guarded. “You suppose right. How was the thing in London?”

  “The usual. Long. Somewhat dull. I need to rework the speech I gave. We got several large donations, though, so I’m calling it a win. Connie sends big hugs, by the way. Nick says, and I quote, ‘When Miss Lani gets back can we go to the beach again and make another sand castle and I’ll be nice to Connie?’”

  “Whoa. He is becoming downright sweet. You told him yes, right?”

  “I said I’d check with you.” He tipped up her chin. For a moment, she met his gaze, but then her glance skittered away. He demanded, “What’s the matter?”

  She caught his wrist, pushed it gently aside. “Later.”

  “So there is something?”

  “Yes, Max. There is. And my mother just came out on the porch. We should go in.”

  * * *

  Max liked Lani’s mother. He told her to call him Max and she shook his hand and said with a smile almost as beautiful as Lani’s, “I’m Iris.”

  Iris took the usual awkwardness with Joseph in stride. The three of them—Lani, Max and Iris—waited on the porch while the bodyguard made a quick reconnaissance of the property.

  When Joseph was ready to check inside, Iris went with him in order to explain to her husband, her son and her son’s wife why the large stranger with the Bluetooth device in his ear was checking in the showers and opening closet doors.

  Once that was over, Calvin brought in the luggage and Iris showed Max to his room, which had a window that looked out on the front yard, a double closet and a bath just down the hall. Joseph got a much smaller room next door. Max would have to share his bathroom with the bodyguard. That was a first. He couldn’t recall ever sharing a bath with another man. Luckily, Joseph was a consummate professional. He made being unobtrusive into an art form. Max foresaw no problems there.

  Dinner was served at seven. There were big slabs of beef cooked on the outside grill the way Americans loved best, along with enormous baked potatoes, lots of green salad and hot dinner rolls.

  Lani’s dad came to the table, though he ate only a small dish of applesauce and some yogurt. Jorge Vasquez was cordial enough, but watchful, too. Same with Lani’s brother, Carlos. Max could feel the men’s protectiveness of Lani. Max might be the heir to a throne, but that didn’t mean he was good enough for their little girl.

  During the meal, Max learned that Carlos’s wife, Martina, was going to have a baby. He congratulated her. Martina thanked him and said she was very happy. Carlos took her hand for a moment and she gave him a glowing smile.

  “Love, marriage, children.” Jorge Vasquez looked misty-eyed. “What else is there, eh?” He aimed the question at Max, one bushy brow lifted.

  “Family is everything,” Max agreed with a smile. He sent a quick glance at Lani, to his left. She only nodded, her expression relaxed and neutral, but her eyes as watchful as her father’s.

  “I’m so glad you feel that way,” said Iris, beaming. “Lani tells us you have two children already. We hope to get to meet them soon.”

  Already? As if he intended to have more? “Yes.” He turned to Lani again. “We should plan on that.”

  She nodded as she had before, but didn’t say anything.

  And it went on through the meal, the Vasquezes taking turns dropping hints about matrimony and babies, Max knocking himself out trying to be receptive and agreeable without actually lying and vowing to get a ring on Lani’s finger immediately so they could set to work providing Iris and Jorge with more grandchildren. Through it all, Lani never said a word. Max tried not to be annoyed with her, but he couldn’t help thinking that it would have been so easy for her to make a joke of the whole thing, or to simply tell her parents and brother to cut it out.

  After the meal, they watched a comedy on the large flat-screen television in the family room. Of course, the movie had a romance in it and when the hero proposed to the heroine, Max stared straight ahead. No way was he getting caught checking to see if Lani’s mother or father was watching him, hoping he was getting the hint.

  Jorge and Iris went to bed when the movie ended. Holding hands, Martina and Carlos went out the back door to the deck.

  Lani said, “There’s a park a few blocks away and it’s a ni
ce night. Get Joseph and we’ll go for a walk.”

  The night was balmy and no one disturbed them as they walked in and out of the wide pools of golden light provided by high streetlamps. He’d been a little worried the paparazzi might have gotten wind of his destination when he left Heathrow. But no. Her parents’ neighborhood was quiet except for the ordinary sounds of places like this: the sudden bark of a protective dog, the honk of a car horn, the whisper of the wind in the branches of the oak trees.

  They walked without speaking. She seemed withdrawn, thoughtful. And he was still a little put out with her for not backing her family off during dinner.

  When they reached the park she’d mentioned, she led him to a bench by a deserted grouping of swings, a slide, monkey bars and a jungle gym. They sat down and Joseph retreated into the shadows several yards away.

  And she said, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Max. Something I really need to say.”

  And he knew. He was certain. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “You’re pregnant.”

  Her eyes popped wide. And then she laughed. “No.”

  He felt relieved. And also foolish. “Oh. Well. I’m... That’s good.” Did he sound like an idiot? Definitely. He shut his mouth and waited.

  She got up from the bench and held down her hand. He took it. She led him to the swings and they each sat in one. For a moment, she pushed herself slowly back and forth, her head tipped up to the three-quarter moon, the swing chains making a faint squeaking sound.

  Then, as the swinging slowed, she turned to him. “I’ve changed, Max, since I met you. Changed in so many ways I can hardly name them all. Changed way down, in the deepest, truest part of me. You’ve...opened me up. You’ve freed me. There’s no other word for it. I am free now. You’ve accepted me, just as I am. With you, I’ve shared the worst of me, and still, you...wanted me, cared for me. It’s meant everything, how you are, how we are, you and me, together.” She stilled the swing and swayed there, just the slightest bit, beside him. “I know that I matter to you.”