Six

The next morning Cara awoke with a groan, and immediately sank back into her pillow. Her stomach wasn’t fond of mornings.

Maybe she should nickname this baby Lurch. That’s what her stomach had done every day for the last few weeks.

She had taken to leaving crackers on the nightstand and eating one before even trying to get up. Last night she’d forgotten to leave them out.

It was all Michael’s fault.

Michael and his wild, crazy, off-the-wall, it-could-never-work-in-this-lifetime-or-any-other idea.

Marry him?

Right.

He was a prince and she was a part owner of a bookstore.

Of course, a little voice in her head whispered, Parker was a princess and was marrying a P.I., and Shey was part owner of a coffeehouse and was marrying a prince.

That wasn’t it at all.

Her hand moved instinctually to her stomach. It wasn’t what he was and what she was. It was who they were.

Strangers.

He didn’t love her. He desired her, that much was true. And she desired him.

But love?

No. They hardly knew each other.

They were having a baby together, but he didn’t know anything meaningful about her, or her about him.

He didn’t love her.

That was the sticking point.

He didn’t love her and Cara wasn’t settling for anything less than what Parker and Shey had found.

There was a knock on her bedroom door.

She moved gingerly into a sitting position, worried that her stomach might rebel, but thankfully it gave a token protest, then settled back down.

She got all the way up, tossed on a robe and went to the door.

“Who is it?” she said, suddenly very aware that she was still in her pajamas.

“Dr. Stevens. Tom.”

She hid behind the door and opened it a crack.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“I’m fine.” At his questioning look, she assured him, “Absolutely fine. And you?”

He ignored her question and studied her. “I was worried and decided to come check up on you.”

“Why would you be worried?”

Did she look that bad? After all, she’d been a bit nauseous, but she didn’t think she could look that green because of it. Her stomach was actually settling down quite nicely. She remembered what Michael had said about morning sickness getting better after the third month.

He’d been reading about pregnancy. Though she shouldn’t let it, the thought warmed her.

“I was worried because we had an appointment this morning. You were going to meet me in the garden, remember?”

“We weren’t supposed to meet until eleven.” She glanced at her wrist to see what time it was, but she hadn’t put her watch on yet.

Tommy saw the gesture and said, “Cara, it’s noon.” He glanced at his own wristwatch. “Ten after if you’d like to be exact.”

No way was it that late.

She looked back toward her nightstand, but it was too far away for her to see the small clock. “Really, it couldn’t be. I never sleep in, and I never, ever miss an appointment.”

“Today it appears you’ve done both,” he said with a quick grin. “But if you agree to meet me in the dining room as soon as you’re dressed I could probably be convinced to forgive you.”

Noon? She’d slept in that late? She’d stood up Tommy?

“I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sorry. Yes, I’ll meet you in the dining room as quickly as I can.”

“Hey, really, it’s no problem. You need your sleep. And don’t rush. I’ll order lunch for us. Brunch in your case,” he teased.

Cara allowed herself an answering grin. “I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”

Cara rushed her dressing, not that she normally spent a long time getting ready. By the time she got to the small dining room the family used for day-today meals, Tommy already had a plate in front of him and one across from him.

“Because it’s your brunch, I thought a nice fruit salad might be just the thing to start with.”

“Perfect,” Cara said, indeed feeling as if she could eat the fruit. She took a small bite to see how it would settle.

“The prince called me last night,” Tommy said after she’d eaten a few bites.

“He did?” Her stomach did a little flip-flop.

“He wanted to know when pregnant women normally notice the baby moving.”

“Oh?” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but all the while feeling anything but.

“I hesitated and he said he wasn’t asking about anyone specific, just general health knowledge that he had already looked up on the Internet. He just wanted verification.”

“What did you tell him?” That small bite of fruit was settling in the bottom of her stomach as heavily as a piece of lead.

“The truth. Women generally feel the first fluttering at the beginning of the second trimester, give or take.”

“Oh.” The prince wasn’t a dunce. If he had any doubts before they’d just been set to rest. He knew that the baby was his.

“I had the fact fairly handy since I’ve been brushing up on my obstetric lessons lately.”

“That’s kind of you.”

Michael knew. He’d said he’d known before, but he had to be positive now. What was he going to do next?

“He did ask if it was likely that a woman would feel movements in her first or second month. I said no. Then he asked about in her third and I said, yes, more likely in her late third or early fourth.”

“Oh,” she said again.

“I’m not asking any questions, mind you,” Tommy assured her. “But I do want you to know I take patient confidence seriously. The prince was right though, and it was information that could easily be found anywhere.”

“It’s fine, Tommy,” Cara assured him.

“You do know that if you need to talk I’m here. It doesn’t have to be strictly medical. I would never betray your trust, or ask questions.” He reached across the table and patted her hand in a big-brotherly way.

Cara flipped her hand so she could grip his and give it a quick squeeze. “I’ll remember that. I don’t know how to thank you for being such a good friend the last couple weeks.”

He gave her hand one more squeeze and started, “It’s been my pleasure. I just hope—”

Whatever Tommy hoped was going to remain a mystery because a voice interrupted him by saying, “Well, isn’t this cozy?”

Not just a voice.

Michael’s voice.

Cara jumped, feeling decidedly like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. And because she felt guilty, even though she had no call to feel guilty, she glared at Michael.

“Mind if I join you?” Michael asked.

“Feel free,” Tommy, the let-me-be-your-big-brother traitor said. He didn’t look the least bit caught off guard at Michael’s sudden appearance.

“How are you this morning, Cara?” Michael asked, genuine concern in his voice.

“Just fine, thank you, Your Highness,” she replied, keeping things as formal as she could manage.

He didn’t press any further, but simply nodded. “So what was the topic of conversation this morning? It looked serious.”

“Not so much,” she assured him. “Just two people who enjoy each other’s company sharing a meal.”

“Is that so? This doesn’t have anything to do with the fainting incident and test results?”

Cara wasn’t about to tell him that her test results had been in for a while and that they gave her a clean bill of health. “Even if we were talking about my health, Your Highness, I’m sure you’d agree that my medical care is my concern.”

“And mine, as your doctor,” Tommy added.

She shot him a look of gratitude and continued, “I’ve been assured that the details of a person’s health are completely confidential.”

“Is that a tactful way of telling me to mind my own business?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just what it is,” Cara assured him with a smile that felt brittle.

She pushed back the half-eaten plate of fruit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I got a late start today and have a bunch of things that need to be attended to, ASAP.”

“But you haven’t finished your meal,” Michael said even as the doctor said, “You need to eat.”

“I’m a big girl and have managed my dietary needs for years without help from either of you.” Without waiting for anymore of Michael’s protesting, she gave Tommy a quick wave and hurried out of the room.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Michael talking fast and furiously at Tommy.

Maybe leaving wasn’t so wise.

But no, she was sure Tommy would honor her privacy. It was fine.

“That’s not good enough,” Michael said, his nerves frayed.

“I’m afraid it’s the best I can do,” Tom said. “What good would I be as a physician if I didn’t honor my patient’s wishes?”

“It’s my baby,” Michael insisted. “I have rights.”

“I’m afraid that right now, you don’t.” Tom Stevens looked sympathetic as he continued. “I truly wish I could tell you something to set your mind at ease, but all I can say is she’s my patient and I’m doing my best for her, just as I’ve always done my best for you.”

Michael got up and stalked out of the room.

He’d always liked Tom Stevens and respected the way he did his job. But at this moment, he wished the man wasn’t quite such a stickler for ethics.

Michael needed someone on his side. He thought about calling Parker and explaining the situation, but couldn’t do it. He might get his sister to plead his case, but he was pretty sure Cara wouldn’t appreciate it.

If their roles were reversed, he knew he wouldn’t.

No, somehow the two of them were going to have to work things out on their own.

Of course, it would be easier if his sweet cara mia hadn’t turned out to be a stubborn, aggravating…woman.

But men had wooed women for centuries and had won them over.

Somehow Michael would manage it as well.

Cara couldn’t decipher the odd looks Michael kept shooting her way throughout the very long, formal dinner.

Thankfully she had been seated next to Ambassador McClinnon. He kept her thoroughly entertained throughout the innumerable courses. Actually, it would have been a very enjoyable evening if it weren’t for Michael’s strange expressions.

What was he up to?

“…And then Pearly said, ‘I’m sorry Mrs. Sherbrooke, but y’all never had my mama’s pie.’”

She laughed, despite herself.

The ambassador had the same gift of blarney that Pearly Gates had. Maybe it was a regional trait? Or maybe it was just proof that despite the years that separated them, the ambassador and Pearly belonged together.

“She sounds like a riot,” Cara said, not letting on that she knew his Pearly.

She’d talked to Parker and Shey, and they’d all agreed that it should be a surprise. Pearly would be here in Eliason soon for the wedding.

And so would the ambassador. Pearly’s Buster.

Cara couldn’t wait. She felt like a matchmaker.

“A riot,” the ambassador assured her. “That was my Pearly. She had a way of lighting up a room, and always seemed to know just what to say. I don’t know why she’s been on my mind so much lately.”

He drifted, and Cara could almost see him make the journey back in time. “One of the last times I saw Pearly was at a reception for a friend. I’d brought a date, really just a friend. But I could have kicked myself, because try as I might, Pearly made it pretty clear she was avoiding me. But I came up behind her as she was talking to Francie Dryer. Francie was lamenting the fact that she wasn’t expecting yet, and she’d been married all of a year. Pearly looked at her and said, ‘Mama always said, babies come in their own time. Maybe God’s just taking his time and looking for the right baby for you.’”

“And Francie felt better?” Cara asked.

“At the time I think she did. But it turned out Francie’s right baby was a bit of a rascal, and over the next few years she had four more. All boys. And according to the town gossips, all more than slightly prone to trouble.”

“I’m sure they were worth the trouble.” Cara caught herself before her hand slipped to her own stomach, and instead folded her hands on her lap.

Lurch was already giving her a bit of trouble, but she was sure she could handle it.

Just as she was sure this baby was her right baby. She hoped it would have Michael’s dark hair rather than her mousy brown.

Maybe her baby would have Michael’s blue eyes. But how would she feel year after year, looking at a tangible reminder of the man she couldn’t have?

Trouble. Yes, that pretty much described her situation. Between a rock and a hard place. And if the gleam in Michael’s eye was an indication, her hard place was about to get a bit harder.

“Yes, I think Francie would agree that they were worth the trouble.” He paused, looking wistful. “Maybe after these weddings, I’ll make a trip home.”

“And look for Pearly?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said quickly, too quickly.

“I don’t think you had to.”

“Knowing Pearly, she remembers exactly what our last fight was about and still bears a grudge.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Wouldn’t it be fun to find out?” Cara asked.

The ambassador smiled. “Yes. Yes, I think it would be.”

Cara felt like a child at Christmas, knowing a big secret she couldn’t share with anyone. She couldn’t wait until the Perry Square contingent started arriving. Pearly and the ambassador would be in for a surprise.

“Babies,” Michael said from across the table. “I couldn’t help but hear your story, Ambassador. They can be trouble. But of course, I wasn’t, was I, Mother?

All Cara’s glee evaporated and she turned, feeling sick to her stomach. Michael wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

“You?” his mother said, smiling at the end of the table. “I agree with your Pearly, even the most troublesome rascals are worth it—”

“Mother, are you saying I was a troublesome rascal?” Michael blustered, even as he grinned.

“I didn’t say it,” the queen assured him. “You did. But I’m not arguing. I can’t wait until Parker and her Jace are married. I want to be a grandmother. I’ll spoil my grandchildren rotten.”

Cara couldn’t help it, she choked.

The ambassador reached for her glass of water and handed it to her. She managed a sip and tried to ignore the rush of heat to her cheeks.

“Are you all right?” Michael asked, the picture of innocence.

Cara sent him an evil look, which made Michael’s smile even bigger.

“I’m fine,” she assured the rat.

He nodded and turned back to the queen. “I hope that I can help fulfill your wish someday soon, Mother.”

“Have you found someone?” his mother asked. “That lovely reporter who visited? Is there something you’d like to share with us?”

“Not quite yet, but soon. There will hopefully be news for you soon.”

“It’s so cruel to tease me,” his mother chastised, but he could see she was pleased with his comments. “Won’t you just give me a hint?”

“Maybe just a little one,” he said.

“No,” Cara said. All eyes turned to her. “I mean, if the prince isn’t sure enough about the relationship to share it, we should allow him his privacy. I know that I wouldn’t want anyone to analyze my life.”

“I think Cara has a point,” Michael said. “Things are so new in this relationship that I want to take some time to figure things out before I share the details.”

“But—” the queen started.

“Darling, I think it would be best if we give our son the time he’s requested,” the king said.

“That’s not what you said when it was Parker’s life you were meddling in,” his wife pointed out.

“That was different,” he blustered. “I wasn’t meddling in her love life, I just wanted her to come home.”

“And you’ve got your wish,” a new voice said.

Parker and Jace walked into the room.

“Parker,” Michael cried.

“Parker,” Cara said. “You’re early.”

“I decided that I wanted time for Mom and Dad to get to know Jace better before the wedding.”

Her parents jumped up and pretty soon they were all entangled in a hug. A family, reunited.

Cara wondered if they would all greet her baby like that when it came to visit them. She watched the king and queen as they held Parker and saw how much they missed her. Would it be the same for Michael? Would the time spent apart from his child be filled with that kind of longing?

Parker made her way around the table and hugged Cara. “You look different,” she said, staring at her assessingly.

Cara didn’t know how to answer, so she simply asked, “Where’s Shey?”

“She and Tanner are with his parents. They’ll be here next week.”

Extra place settings were brought out. Parker sat next to Cara, Jace across from her, next to Michael. The two men were quickly carrying on a quiet conversation.

“Are you okay?” Parker asked quietly as she slid into the hastily prepared seat next to Cara.

Cara glared at Michael, knowing full well why Parker was asking the question—why Parker had come home early.

She turned to Parker and gave her a quick hug as she answered, “Yes, of course, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I…well…” Parker glanced at Michael and Cara knew he’d been talking to her.

“Whatever tales the prince has been telling are highly exaggerated. I’m absolutely fine.”

Parker didn’t look convinced. “We’ll talk later.”

“We can talk about the wedding, talk about how wonderful Jace is. There’s a lot to talk about. But we don’t need to talk about me because I’m absolutely fine.”

“Parker,” the queen said, “tell me more about the store.”

“Well…” Parker launched with enthusiasm into tales of her misadventures as a coffee shop and bookstore owner. But now and again she glanced purposely at Cara.

Cara couldn’t wait for the long meal to end. As soon as politeness would allow, she excused herself.

“Can we talk?” Parker asked as she rose.

“Maybe tomorrow. You need to catch up with your parents. I’m exhausted and just want to get some sleep.”

It was probably the wrong thing to say because she could see the concern on Parker’s face. But she ignored it as she hugged her friend good-night and left the formal dining room.

The pig.

The royal, can’t-fight-his-own-battles, call-in-reinforcements jerk.

“Cara, wait,” his High-and-Jerkiness hollered as she hurried down the hall toward her room.

Cara didn’t slow her pace one iota. As a matter of fact, she walked even faster.

“Cara.”

And faster yet.

She was practically jogging, but she didn’t care, she just couldn’t face Michael right now. She, who rarely felt the least bit of ire, was fuming. If he forced a confrontation now she was bound to say something she’d regret.

“Cara.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. “I didn’t call her.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, I did call her, but just for reassurance. I didn’t ask her to come home early, even though I thought about it. It would be nice to have someone on my side, someone to lend moral support.”

“Moral support? Reassurance? What kind of reassurance could she give you?”

“Hearing her talk about Jace, and the happiness she’d found with him makes me believe we can find that as well.”

Cara didn’t say anything because she didn’t know what to say.

“I was as surprised as you when she walked into the dining room,” he said gently.

“Liar. You hoped your call would bring her home.”

“Cara, honey, you can call me all kinds of names, but I’ve never lied to you. I never will. Which is why when I say I want to marry you, or when I say I didn’t call Parker home, you can believe me.”

She felt herself begin to relax a little.

“Really?”

“Really,” he assured her. “I meant it when I said I never have and I never will lie to you.”

“Well, thanks. If you didn’t call her home, then why is she here early?”

“I imagine she’s here to see Mom and Dad, just like she said. I understand that the days before a wedding are jittery ones.”

“Oh.”

“Cara, you know when I said I wouldn’t lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“You believe me, right?”

She would have liked to say no, but she saw the vulnerability in his eyes and said, “Yes, I guess so.”

Vulnerability and something else.

“So then when I tell you that I want to kiss you right now—kiss you until you can’t see straight, until your knees give way, until you can’t breathe, you’d believe me?”

Her throat felt dry. She knew she should tell him no, that kissing him was the last thing she wanted, but she couldn’t lie. She settled for saying, “You could tell me that, but that doesn’t mean I’d agree to it.”

“Ah, but I didn’t hear you disagree.”

“I—”

“You want me as much as I want you.” Before she could respond, he added, “No lying.”

“What makes you think you need to warn me? You think I’d lie?”

“Professor Stuart,” he said simply.

“That’s different. We’ve been through this. If there’s a Stuart, you’re off the hook.”

“I don’t want to be off the hook, I want to—” He didn’t finish the sentence with words. Instead, he demonstrated just what he wanted.

Cara was done denying that she wanted him as much as he claimed to want her.

Every time she touched him, every time he touched her, all her worries and doubts flew out the window and all that was left was the certainty that this man was the one she’d been waiting for.

She relaxed in his arms, wrapping herself in Michael. Her lips melded to his, instant with desire.

“Eh hem,” someone behind Michael said.

Cara recognized the throat clearing.

She pulled away and peeked behind him. “Parker, I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can, and I can’t wait to hear that explanation.” She turned to Michael. “Big brother, do you mind if I borrow my friend for a moment?”

“I do, but I’ll let you. Consider my sharing Cara a wedding gift.”

“You’re just too cheap to buy me something nice,” Parker said.

“I’d say Cara qualifies as something more than nice.”

“I’d be forced to agree, and because I recognize her value, I’d be remiss as a friend if I didn’t warn you that if you hurt her…” She left the threat hanging.

Cara knew she should feel warmed by the thought that Parker cared enough to threaten her brother, but instead she felt annoyed. “Parker, I’m right here, and I’m pretty sure I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

Parker ignored her and kept her attention on Michael, who said, “And I guess I should be just as up front with you, little sister, when I tell you I’ve asked Cara to marry me.”

“What?” Parker said, obviously taken aback.

“I said no,” Cara hastily assured her.

“You practically just met. You hardly know each other.” Parker eyed them both.

“About that—” Michael started.

“Not another word from either of you,” Cara said. “I’m quite capable of protecting myself, just as I’m quite capable of deciding who I’ll marry. Fact is, I turned your brother down, Parker.”

This time it was Cara on the receiving end of Parker’s glare. “Why would you turn him down? He might be a pain as a brother, but rumor has it that women who aren’t his sister find him a catch.”

“They’re welcome to catch him all they want. I’m not interested.”

“From what I just witnessed, I’d have to say, you looked more than interested.”

“Ah, you see,” Michael said, “your friend is a fickle woman. She likes kissing me well enough, but her heart belongs to Professor Stuart. She’s going to run home to the jerk.”

“Stuart who?” Parker asked.

Cara didn’t answer her. She was too busy glaring at Michael, the tattletaling, I-won’t-lie-to-you snitch. “Stuart’s a good man, I told you that.”

“You told me many things, cara mia.” His voice had that soft little burr to it that got to her.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Cara mia,” he said again, taunting her, then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll leave you with my sister to talk. I’ll go find my future brother-in-law.”

“You do that,” Parker said. She turned toward Cara, a thousand questions in her eyes as she continued, “Sounds like there’s a lot that’s gone on here in the last couple weeks. Maybe it’s about time you bring me up to speed.”