Prince and Single Mom (7 page)

Hannah turned at the excited sound of Jamie’s voice. He fairly bounced toward her, holding a plastic sword and shield.

“My goodness! It sounds as if you had a full day.”

“I’m going to put these in my room!” Jamie ran off, likely, Hannah thought, to practice with his sword and re-live some of his adventures without any adults watching. She smiled at Catharine. “And you look like he wore you out.”

“Do I? Well, it’s…been a busy day, I can tell you that. But you don’t look worn out. You look fabulous! So, good seaman?”

“Pardon?”

“Alex? Sailing?”

“Oh! Oh, yes. He seemed to know the ropes. He…ah, handled everything extremely well.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you had a good time. So what else did you do with your day?”

“What else did I do?” Hannah felt like a parrot, and she wondered if she could blame the red decorating her cheeks on the sun. Catharine looked at her expectantly.

“What did I do after sailing? Ah, I napped. And I swam.” And while it delighted her to be having her first-ever affair, she didn’t think she could get used to prevarication. “Well, Giselle will be here any moment. Why don’t we start getting ready for dinner now, without her?”

Catharine, looking a little reluctant, didn’t move. Hannah raised one brow. She'd have thought her daughter would have been eager to thwart their martinet maid.

“Mother? About dinner...”

“It’s only dinner.”

Catharine felt like a skip on a record. First with Philip, and now with her mother. She sat at the vanity in her room, and began to apply her makeup. Behind her, Jamie stretched out on her bed, completely absorbed in a cartoon playing on the television. Her mother sat beside her. They kept their conversation quiet.

“No, it’s more than just dinner. It’s dinner with a
man
.”

“Mom, there’s no happy-ever-after here. I only met Philip today.” For reasons she didn’t want to think about too deeply, she’d only told her mother his first name, and his profession. She hadn’t mentioned the tiny fact that he happened to be a prince. “He seems like a really nice guy, and he went out of his way to be nice to Jamie. But I’m not going to marry him and have his babies. I’m just having dinner with him.” She’d known her mother would react this way. For all her protestations to the contrary, Hannah Jones was a very old-fashioned woman, in Catharine’s estimation. Look at how her mother had lived her life. Having been married for more than twenty years to her childhood sweetheart, and widowed nearly ten, her mother seemed to embody the concept of “forever love.” Catharine knew this to be so, because her mother hadn’t dated since her father died. She had, in fact, seemed totally uninterested in doing so.

“Well, of course there’s a happy-ever-after for you, Catharine, if you want there to be. I’ve assumed you were living it. You certainly don’t need a man for that.”

Catharine knew the shock she felt showed on her face. “I don’t?” She’d never thought so. But she had always assumed that happiness, and fullness of life, in her mother’s view, only came with marriage. To hear that her mother really believed otherwise set off tiny rumbles within her.

“Of course you don’t. You’ve got Jamie, and you’ve set a goal in life. You don’t
need
a man. But it would nice, don’t you think, to have a social life of some sort? To have dinner or go to a movie from time to time with an interesting man or, hell, with an interesting woman, for that matter. It’s not about romance, as stimulating as that would be. You think I’ve wanted you to get married? No, sweetheart. I’ve just wanted you to get out and have a bit of fun for yourself from time to time.”

Catharine turned back to her own face in the mirror. “I’ve been afraid to.” She closed her eyes. Damn, she hadn’t meant to say that.

“No kidding.”

Those two words, dryly spoken, had her opening her eyes and facing her mother, whose next words floored her.

“You and I are so much alike it’s scary.”

“Us? Alike?”

“Yes. You’re almost a mirror image of me. Pregnant at just about the same age, and just as determined to do it all yourself. And ever after, afraid to get involved with a man, have a personal relationship, because you’re afraid of making the same mistake twice.”

“But you
married
daddy!” Catharine felt a lot of what she had believed to be true sliding out from under her.

“Of course I did. It’s what was expected back in my day when you got knocked up. But getting married only meant that your father and I tied ourselves to each other. It didn’t mean any magical happy-ever-after. If you want to know the truth, many a time I
wished
I could have gone it alone. It might have been easier, and I certainly would have felt freer. But then, I wouldn’t have had you or Peter.”

“So what’s stopping you now?” Catharine asked, really wanting to know. Her mother’s answer wasn’t at all what she expected.

“A little bit of what’s been stopping you, I guess. Being afraid to make another mistake. And, well, until very recently, I thought myself too old, and too unattractive for any man to be interested in me.”

Unsettled, Catharine turned back to her mirror and tentatively picked up her mascara. For a long time she’d been dropping hints to her mother, trying to get her to develop a social life. This morning, she’d been delighted to learn that Hannah would be spending the day with a man she considered
sinfully sexy
. She’d been so pleased because her mother deserved to be happy, and have fun. Her mother deserved to be loved. And now, looking at their reflections together in the mirror—hers and her mother’s—she began to think that maybe, just maybe, she did, too.

* * * *

Alex had hoped to see her tonight. It didn’t matter that they’d spent the entire day together, or that they’d agreed to meet in the morning for breakfast. They’d only been apart three hours and already it seemed too long.

He wondered if he had slipped into a second childhood, only now discovering teenage angst. Hannah might be on vacation with her family, and he may be the king of Boisdemer but those two facts meant nothing at the moment. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, tuck her into his bed, and feast on her.

He saw her, of course. The resort, for all its exclusivity, wasn’t overly large. She sat at one of the outdoor café tables on the deck overlooking the ocean. But she wasn’t alone. Her grandson, Jamie, accompanied her. The boy enthusiastically consumed a dish of ice cream, while chattering happily away. He should probably leave them be, rather than intrude on their time together. He should, he acknowledged as he approached the table, but he didn’t. Jamie saw him first.

“Hi. Mommy’s on a date and me and Grandma are celebrating.”

“Jamie!”

Alex laughed, totally delighted in both the child’s guileless candor and Hannah’s obvious embarrassment.

“That’s not what it sounds like,” she said, looking up at him.

Alex took a seat at their table, and couldn’t resist running a hand down her back. “I’ll presume he meant that you’re celebrating the opportunity to spend time together.”

Looking at the young man, he noticed the plastic sword and shield that lay on the table, and the protective way Jamie had his arm covering them. For some reason, the sight called to mind memories of when his children had been small. Philippe often would transform simple possessions into treasures he would then guard with his very life.

“You have new treasures,” Alex said, nodding to the toys.

“I’m a Knight of the Fortress.”

Alex couldn’t help but smile at the way Jamie straightened up and spoke those words with pride.

“Congratulations, Sir Knight. That’s quite an accomplishment for your first day in my country.”

“I’ve had the best day, ever,” he said around a yawn.

“Your best day ever is shortly going to end in a bath and bed,” Hannah said.

“A bath? Do I have to? But it’s vacation!”

Jamie’s voice held such an aggrieved tone, Alex felt compelled to lean forward and confide, “As far as women are concerned, there’s never a vacation from bathing.”

“No kidding.”

To Hannah he said, “I just wanted to see you for a moment. But you have your hands full for the night.”

“I do, yes. But as soon as Jamie goes to sleep, I thought I’d sit out on our patio, with the glass door open so I can hear him if he needs me, and relax in the fresh sea breeze with a good book.

Alex saw a twinkle in Hannah’s eyes and felt his pulse quicken in response. Although privacy fencing surrounded the individual pools and patios each suite enjoyed, access could be gained through a gate that opened to the public gardens—if the gate was left unlocked.

He reached for her hand, and brought it to his lips. “That sounds like an excellent way to end the day.”

* * * *

Philip had chosen Chez Rochelle for several reasons. The food tasted excellent, the ambiance was intimate without being pushy, and centrally located, it was easy for Kate to get to.

Her ability to arrive—and therefore depart—on her own was the compromise he’d had to make in order to have dinner with her.

Philip could never remember having to work so hard just to spend time with a woman before. But then, he couldn’t remember ever wanting one more.

He got to his feet as he saw her approach, being led by the maitre d’. He recognized her caution. He could see it in her eyes. Probably half due to the fact that he’d chosen a private booth at the back of the restaurant, and half because she didn’t trust him yet.

“Kate.” He couldn’t stop himself from picking up both her hands, and bringing them to his lips. At his gesture she seemed to soften.

“Well, I’m here.”

And he sensed in those three words just how much of an effort it had been for her to come. Fortunately, he had a healthy ego, and enough insight, to understand her reluctance truly had nothing to do with him.

“I’m so pleased that you are.” To the maitre d’, he said, “Thank you,
Julien
. We’ll have the wine now.”

He seated her across from him so that she would feel she had her space, then resumed his own seat.

“I never thought. Is it…uncomfortable for you, to be out in public like this? Having dinner with someone? I’m thinking about your being a prince, and the paparazzi and all.”

“No,” he waited while the sommelier arrived at their table and displayed the label. When he nodded, the man made great ceremony of opening the bottle, pouring a small portion into his glass. Looking at Kate, Philip winked. She rolled her eyes, and his grin escaped. Then he schooled his features as he sipped the wine, appeared to consider it for a moment, then nodded to the server who had almost been holding his breath. After filling both glasses the man set the bottle carefully on the table, bowed low, and left.

Philip met Kate’s eyes, and raised both eyebrows. When she giggled quietly, slipping her hand over her mouth, he laughed in response. Amazing that the one thing that usually annoyed him—the fawning servitude of others—should serve him so well now by breaking the ice and putting her at ease.

“To answer your question, no. The people of Boisdemer are used to seeing my siblings and me out and about. Mother didn’t like it, but Father always encouraged us to get out and know our people, and our country.”

“Why didn’t your mother like it?”

Philip hesitated for a moment. Usually, he kept certain matters to himself. But something about being with Kate seemed right. He knew, even just having met her, that she would keep whatever he confided to herself.

“My mother had a different view of royalty. She believed a royal should hold themselves apart, and above. That attitude ran deeply in her. We had a nanny full-time, and a daily audience with Mother, preceding the evening meal.”

“My father held himself off from us, too,” Catharine said. “Not because of any sense of being better. In his case, well, it felt as if he just couldn’t be bothered with us. I’d just turned twelve when he died, and I think I would have suffered more with his passing, if he’d been different. The only one of us who ever got a rise out of him, one way or the other, was my next oldest brother. He and Dad got along like kerosene and fire. When Daddy died, he blamed himself and left home. Anyway, my point is, sometimes there’s a reason for the hard things we go through.”

Philip couldn’t resist reaching across the table, and taking one of her hands in his. He could see by the sudden widening of her eyes she hadn’t expected the move. After a moment, as he continued to gently stroke his thumb over her knuckles, she relaxed.

“That gives us one more thing in common, Kate.”

“We shouldn’t have anything in common. I’m an unwed mother from Canada and you’re a prince.”

“You’re too compassionate a woman to hold the circumstances of my birth against me. And too smart not to see how very much we
do
have that connects us.”

“I know. It scares me. This whole situation does. I trusted myself once, and while I could never regret having Jamie, the rest of it left me terrified of making the same mistake again.”

“Then for tonight,” Philip said softly as he signaled the waiter, “why don’t we simply have dinner and enjoy each other’s company?”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow—if you want there to be one for us—we’ll talk of more serious things.”

It was too good an offer to pass up.

Catharine felt her heart racing, as she took the first step in a direction she’d been too afraid to go. Until now. The prospect of opening herself up to a man, even a little, was terrifying. But God help her, she wanted to take whatever Philip wanted to give her. She knew his offer of kindness and friendship would, before long, be joined by an offer of sex. She’d take it all, simply because…because…she didn’t want to think too deeply about the why of it right now. No longer a naïve sixteen-year-old girl, she didn’t believe in knights in shining armor or happy-ever-after when it came to men. So she wouldn’t be seduced by dreams of a forever love, or fall for any declarations of undying devotion. She had grown-up, and damn it she had grown-up needs, needs that she’d rarely acknowledged and even more rarely taken care of herself under the blankets in the dark of night.