“And my father was a farmer.”
“I didn’t know that,” she admitted.
“She claimed that she loved who he was, and then she spent the next fifteen years trying to change him into someone else. Someone better suited to her station.”
She didn’t prompt him for more information or pry for details, and maybe that was why he found it easy to talk to her. Why he found himself telling her things that he’d never told anyone else before.
“After my dad died, she changed her focus to my brother and I. She had such big plans and ambitions for us.”
“I would think she’d be very proud of both of you.”
His smile was wry. “She refers to RAM as my ‘little company’ and despairs that I will ever do anything worthwhile. And even Cameron’s position in the prince regent’s cabinet isn’t good enough, because she wanted him sitting on the throne.”
“What were her plans for Marissa?” she asked curiously.
“Lucky for her, my baby sister pretty much flies under Elena’s radar.”
“How does she manage that?”
“She’s female.”
Hannah’s brows lifted.
“I’m not saying it’s right—just that it is what it is. Even though the Tesorian laws were recently changed to ensure equal titles and property would be inherited regardless of gender, she’s always believed that it’s the men who hold the power.
“I remember how thrilled she was to find out that Sam was expecting—and how disappointed she was when she learned that we were having a daughter. She didn’t even pretend otherwise.”
“But Riley is such a wonderful little girl,” she protested.
“And my mother barely knows her,” he admitted. “She’s the only grandparent my daughter has, and she doesn’t even make an effort to spend time with her.”
Not only did Elena not spend time with Riley, the princess royal had suggested sending his little girl away to boarding school, the mere idea of which still made Michael’s blood boil.
“She’s lucky, then, to have a father who’s making such an effort to be part of her life,” Hannah told him.
“I missed her today,” he admitted, pushing all thoughts of his mother aside. “And I hated not being here to tuck her in.”
“She was disappointed, but thrilled when you called from the restaurant to say good-night.”
“She said you had a picnic on the beach at lunch.”
“I thought it might take her mind off of the fact that you weren’t here.”
“She sounded as if she really enjoyed it,” he said.
Hannah smiled. “She got a bit of a surprise when she threw the crusts of her sandwich away and the gulls swooped in to take them.”
“Was she scared?”
“She did shriek at first, but then she was okay. She’s already decided that she’s keeping the crusts of her toast from breakfast tomorrow so that she can feed them again.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure we have toast for breakfast,” he agreed.
And that was how they ended up on the dock the next morning. Except Hannah noticed that while she and Riley were tossing bread to the birds, the prince had wandered farther back on the dock. After the little girl had tossed the last few pieces to the hungry gulls, Hannah took Riley’s hand and guided her back to where her father was standing, with his back to the water and his BlackBerry to his ear.
She put her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Michael stopped in midsentence. “I’m just—”
Before he could finish speaking, she’d grabbed the phone from his hand.
“We had a deal,” she reminded him.
And he’d stuck to the deal, which had been a pleasant surprise to Hannah. At least until now. In fact, he’d been so diligent about following the rules that she was prepared to cut him some slack—after she’d made him feel just a little bit guilty.
“I know, but—”
“No phones, Daddy.” It was Riley who interrupted his explanation this time, and before he could say anything further, she took the phone from Hannah and flung it over her shoulder.
Hannah gasped as Michael’s head whipped around, his gaze following the instrument as it sailed through the air, seeming to tumble end over end in slow motion before it splashed into the ocean.
She knew that Riley had acted on impulse, without any thought about what she was doing or the potential consequences, and that the prince was going to be furious. The only possible way to do damage control was to get Riley to apologize immediately and sincerely. But when Hannah opened her mouth to speak to the little girl, the only sound that came out was a muffled laugh.
“I was in the middle of a conversation with the vice president of a major telecommunications company,” the prince informed her.
“You’ll have to tell him that your call—” she tried to muffle her chuckle with a cough “—got dropped.”
He glowered at her.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny…” But she couldn’t finish, because she was laughing.
“If you know it’s not funny, why are you laughing?” he demanded.
Riley looked from one to the other, measuring her father’s stern visage against her nanny’s amusement, as if trying to figure out how much trouble she was in.
“I don’t know,” Hannah admitted. “But I can’t seem to stop.”
“She threw my BlackBerry into the ocean.”
She was turning red from holding her breath, trying to hold in the chuckles.
His eyes narrowed. “You really do think it’s funny, don’t you?”
She shook her head, wanting to deny it. But her efforts were futile.
“Well, then,” Michael said. “Let’s see if you think this is funny.”
She fell silent when he scooped her into his arms, suddenly unable to remember why she’d been laughing. The sensation of being held close in his arms blocked everything else out. Everything but the heat and hardness of his body—the strong arms holding on to her, one at her back and one under her knees; the firm muscles of his chest beneath her cheek. She was tempted to rub her cheek against him and purr like a kitten, inhaling the enticingly spicy scent of the furiously sexy man. Oh, if only he would hold her like this forever—
The thought had barely formed in her mind when she realized that he was no longer holding on to her at all. Instead, she was flying through the air.
The shock of that had barely registered before she hit the water.
She came up dripping and sputtering, obviously as surprised as he had been when Riley had tossed his phone in the water, then she resolutely began to swim back to the dock. Any sense of satisfaction Michael had felt when he sent her on the same journey was gone. In fact, looking at her now as she pulled herself up onto the ladder, he was feeling distinctly unsatisfied. And very aroused.
He stared. He knew it was impolite, but he couldn’t help himself. She usually dressed conservatively, keeping her feminine attributes well hidden. But now, with her pale pink T-shirt and white shorts soaked through and plastered to her body, there was no disguising the delicious curves she had tried to hide—or the sexy lace bra that covered her pert, round breasts but couldn’t conceal the tight buds of her nipples.
He swallowed, hard.
She was at the top of the ladder now, and he offered his hand to help her up the last step.
She eyed him warily for a moment before she accepted.
Her hand was cool, but the touch heated his blood, and he realized that he was in serious trouble with this woman. Because even now, when he should be angry and amazed, he couldn’t deny the attraction between them. An attraction that continued to grow stronger with each passing day.
“All in all, I’d say you fared better than my phone,” he noted, trying to maintain some equilibrium.
She shoved a handful of sopping hair over her shoulder and, with obvious skepticism, asked, “How do you figure?”
“Your circu
its aren’t fried.” As his were—or at least in serious danger of doing so.
“Are you going to throw me in the water, too, Daddy?” Riley looked at him with an expression that was half hopeful and half fearful.
“I might,” he said, scooping her off of her feet and into his arms.
Riley shrieked and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “No, Daddy, no.”
“But you did a bad thing, throwing my phone into the water,” he reminded her. “So there should be some kind of punishment.”
She nodded her head, still clinging to him.
“What do you think that punishment should be?”
His daughter wrinkled her nose, as if seriously contemplating an answer to his question, then offered her suggestion. “Maybe no broccoli for me for a month?”
It was all he could do not to laugh himself—because he knew how much she hated broccoli. “Nice try, Princess, but I think the punishment needs to be a little more immediate than that and more directly linked to the crime.”
“An apology?” she suggested. “Because I am very sorry, Daddy.”
“That’s a good start, but not very convincing.”
“Very, very sorry,” she said, framing his face in her hands and kissing first one cheek and then the other.
“Much more convincing,” he said.
She smiled at him, and it was the kind of smile he hadn’t seen on her face in a very long time—a smile full of such pure joy that it actually made his heart ache.
He glanced over her head at Hannah, hoping to telegraph his appreciation to her because he knew that she was responsible for so many changes he’d seen in his daughter in the past few weeks. She was watching them and smiling, too, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes.
Since her first day at Cielo del Norte, Hannah had witnessed more and more examples of the strengthening bond between father and daughter. They’d come a long way in a short while, she realized. From virtual strangers who shared polite conversation across the dinner table to a father and daughter who genuinely enjoyed spending time together.
Watching them together filled her heart with happiness—and more than a little envy. Because as much as she wanted to believe that she’d played a part in bringing them together, her role had been peripheral. She was the outsider, as she’d been the outsider through most of her life.
Even when her uncle Phillip had brought her back to Tesoro del Mar, she’d been conscious of the fact that she didn’t really belong. All she’d ever wanted was a home and a family of her own, a place where she was truly wanted and needed. But she’d be a fool to think she could find it here—even for a short while.
But there were moments—rare and precious moments that she knew she would hold in her heart forever—when she truly felt as if she was part of their world. Like when Riley reached for her hand as they walked on the beach. Or when the little girl spontaneously reached up to hug Hannah as she tucked her into bed at night.
She’d known from the beginning that her time with Riley and the prince wouldn’t ever be anything more than temporary, but that knowledge hadn’t stopped her from falling for the princess. There was simply no way she could have resisted a child who needed so much and somehow gave back so much more.
No, it didn’t surprise her at all that the little girl had completely taken hold of her heart. The bigger surprise—and much bigger worry—was that she was very close to falling in love with the princess’s father, too.
Chapter Eleven
It was the sound of Riley’s screams that had Michael bolting out of his office a few days later. The screams were coming from the tennis courts, and he raced in that direction. Caridad, also summoned by the sound of the little girl’s calls, was right behind him.
“Help! Daddy! Help!”
He would have been the first to admit that his daughter had a tendency to melodrama and that she did everything at full volume. But he’d learned to tell from the tone of her cries whether she was sad or frustrated or hurt, and he’d learned to distinguish between playful and fearful shouts. But he’d never heard her scream like this, and the sound chilled him to the bone.
“Someone! Please! Quick!”
As soon as she saw him, her screams turned to sobs. “Daddy, Daddy, you have to help.”
He dropped to his knees beside her. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” He ran his hands over her as he spoke, his heart in his throat as he tried to determine the nature of her injury. The way she’d been screaming, he’d sincerely feared that she’d lost a limb or at least broken a bone. But aside from the red face streaked with tears, she appeared to be unharmed, and relief flooded through him like a wave.
“It’s n-not m-me,” she sobbed. “It’s H-han-nah.”
By this time, the housekeeper had caught up to them, and he saw that she had gone directly to where Hannah was kneeling on the court. Though the nanny had a hand to her head, she didn’t seem to be in any dire straits.
With Riley clinging to his side, he ventured closer.
“I’m fine,” he heard her saying, trying to shake Caridad off as she helped her to her feet.
But the older woman was resolute, and as she steered Hannah toward one of the benches along the sidelines of the court, he finally noticed the blood.
He halted abruptly, his stomach clenching.
“I d-didn’t m-mean to d-do it,” Riley managed between sobs. “It w-was an accid-dent.”
He squeezed her gently, trying to reassure her but unable to tear his own gaze away from the crimson blood dripping down the side of Hannah’s face.
“You are not fine,” Caridad said to Hannah. “And you need to sit down while I get a towel and the antiseptic cream.”
He’d yet to meet anyone who could ignore a direct order from the housekeeper when she spoke in that tone, and Hannah was no exception. She sat where Caridad directed.
“Come on, Riley,” the housekeeper said. “You can help me find what we need.”
Michael knew that Caridad didn’t really need Riley’s assistance but was trying to distract her from the situation. And Riley was eager to help, obediently falling into step behind the housekeeper. Michael moved over to the bench to check on Hannah.
“I guess that will teach me to walk up behind a little girl with a tennis racquet,” she said ruefully.
“Is that what happened?” He kept his tone light, not wanting her to know how badly his insides were shaking. He guessed that she’d been cut right above the eye, because that’s where she seemed to be applying pressure, but he couldn’t tell for sure.
Hannah managed a smile. “Your daughter has a good set of lungs on her.”
“That she does,” he agreed.
“I’m sorry about the panic. I was trying to calm her down, but she saw the blood and then just started screaming.”
Riley raced over with a neatly folded towel. “This one’s for your head,” she said, handing one to Hannah. “You’re supposed to put pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding. Caridad’s bringing the rest of the stuff.”
The rest of the stuff turned out to be a washcloth and a basin of warm water, which she used to clean the blood off of the area around the cut, and a first-aid kit, from which she took an antiseptic wipe to dab gently against the wound. Then she instructed Hannah to keep the pressure on and went back inside to finish getting dinner ready.
“There’s a lot of blood, Daddy.” Riley spoke in an awed whisper.
“Head wounds always bleed a lot,” Hannah said, trying to reassure her. “I’ll put a Band-Aid on in a few minutes and—”
The prince laid his hand over hers, forcing her to lift the towel so that he could take another look at the gash. The blood immediately began to flow again. “I’m pretty sure it needs more than a Band-Aid.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” she insisted.
“You’re not a doctor,” he reminded her.
“No, but I grew up with one, and he—”
“And he would want you to have th
is checked out,” the prince said firmly.
As it turned out, her uncle Phillip had been at a day conference in San Pedro, so he arrived at Cielo del Norte within an hour of the housekeeper’s call. By that time, the bleeding had mostly stopped and Hannah was lying down on a sofa in the library, reading.
Riley was sitting with her, keeping her company while she waited for the doctor to arrive. Despite her repeated assurances that she was okay, the child insisted on staying by her side.
“You only had to call and I would have come to visit,” her uncle chided from the doorway. “You didn’t need to create all this drama to get me out here.”
“I’m having second thoughts about it now,” she told him, easing herself back up to sitting position.
“Hi, Doctor Phil,” Riley said.
He smiled at the nickname and offered the little girl a lollipop that he took out of his bag. “For after dinner.”
She nodded and tucked it into the pocket of her shorts.
Phillip sat down beside his niece. “So how did this happen?”
“I hit Hannah with my racquet,” Riley confessed.
“Forehand or backhand?” the doctor asked.
Riley had to think for a minute before answering that one. “Backhand.”
“You must have a pretty powerful swing.”
“I’ve been practicing lots,” she admitted, sounding torn between pride and regret.
“Okay, let’s see what kind of damage you did,” he said, moving to examine the wound.
Hannah winced when he tipped her head back.
“Headache?” he asked, all teasing forgotten.
She nodded slowly.
“I’ll give you something for that after I stitch this up.”
He offered to let Riley stay to watch while he fixed up the wound. The little girl had seemed enthused about the prospect, but as soon as the needle pierced through the skin the first time, she disappeared quickly enough.
“Are you enjoying your job here?” Phillip asked Hannah when Riley had gone.
“Other than today, you mean?”
“Other than today,” he agreed with a smile.
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