He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. Then he walked out to where Felix was waiting, and headed into the hospital, trying hard not to fixate on what, exactly, he ought to do with Summer, Harry, and their future.

  “What, exactly, were you thinking?”

  Nic woke with a start, completely disoriented. “Huh?”

  Summer was standing over him, arms crossed. After a second, he realized he was in the living room, on the couch. It was still dark out. He glanced blearily at the clock. Four a.m.? What was going on?

  “I started getting worried at around eight o’clock last night, when you still hadn’t made it home,” Summer said, her voice quiet but firm, her eyes stern. “I had to call Felix, to make sure you were all right.”

  “Of course I was all right,” Nic said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I was just working late. Why wouldn’t I be all right?”

  She stiffened, and immediately he was hit with the unbidden thought: Her parents had been out, at night, when they’d gotten in their car accident. When they’d gotten killed.

  Shit.

  “He said you were fine, that you’d just picked up a double shift,” she said, her voice cold. “Funny that you thought it was okay, even thoughtful, to mention this fact to your driver—but then neglected to let the woman who’s sharing your bed and taking care of our kid know this.”

  Nic winced. “I didn’t…”

  “What time did you get back?” she asked, cutting across his excuses.

  “Um. Around two,” he said, mentally scrolling through the previous night. “I was going to just sit on the couch for a second, get my shoes off, maybe unwind with the TV on. But I guess I never made it that far.”

  “No, I guess you didn’t,” she said. “Because Harry’s sleep schedule is all out of whack from when he was sick. He was fussy and a pain all through bath time, he didn’t want to go to bed, then he was awake and crying on and off till twelve thirty. Which meant I didn’t get any sleep until then, and after the past few days, I’ve been tired.”

  “I know,” Nic said, realizing he did know.

  “And I’ve got my own shift starting in…” She glanced at her watch, and he realized she was fully dressed—much like he was, although in his case, his clothes were rumpled and a mess because he’d fallen asleep in them. “Two hours. Sofia told me that the fellows need to come in early to help cover for the sick doctors.”

  “Yeah. I should be coming in too.”

  Summer’s hazel eyes widened, and she let out an impatient huff. “You’ve just said you had three hours of sleep,” she pointed out. “We’re not residents. We shouldn’t have been working those kinds of shifts when we were residents.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “A few hours down, a few cups of coffee, and…”

  “Doctors at a sleep deficit make mistakes,” Summer said sharply.

  Now pride warred with common sense. “I’ve never made a wrong diagnosis,” he argued. “And I’d never jeopardize any of my patients. The hospital’s short staffed. What was I supposed to do? Just turn my back on them? Damn it, Summer, you know me better than that. You know how important my work is to me!”

  She seemed taken aback by the vehemence of his answer. She tilted her head, studying him. “I do know,” she said, her voice low. “Sometimes, I wonder if work is all you care about.”

  It hit him like a slap. “Summer…”

  “I’m used to taking care of Harry on my own,” she said quietly, pride of her own shining in her eyes. “Your help would’ve been appreciated last night, but I didn’t expect it, and I certainly don’t resent him for it—because you know how important he is to me.”

  “We could always hire a night nanny,” he pointed out. “Hell, we could hire any amount of help you want. You don’t have to do any of this on your own!”

  She glared at him. “It’s not about throwing money at the problem,” she all but growled. “My parents were a team. If they needed help, they asked for it, but they didn’t have living parents, or any siblings to rely on. Their work was important to them, but I never felt like I was a burden to be handed off, and I damn well will not have Harry feel that way. Alma is more than enough. He’s used to daycare. But I’m not hiring strangers round-the-clock to watch him, not unless I physically or mentally can’t manage any other way.”

  Now guilt gave way to shame. Nic clenched his jaw and watched as she calmed herself, obviously with some effort. “I’m not asking you to upend your life for me… for us. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask for some simple courtesies. And I need you to start thinking of us on at least the same level as the hospital or your royal duties. If you can’t handle that, then you need to think long and hard about how you want us involved in your life.” She paused a beat, for emphasis. “Or if you want us in your life at all.”

  He felt a pang, leaning up towards her, taking her hands. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right,” he said. “I’m sorry. You wouldn’t have done this to me.”

  “No. I wouldn’t.”

  He sighed, lacing his fingers through hers before pressing a kiss to the back of one, then the other. “I screwed this up,” he admitted. “I was an ass.”

  Her silence strongly implied that she agreed with him. At least there was the ghost of a smile at the corner of her full lips.

  “How can I make it up to you?” he pressed.

  She stared at him, her gaze boring into him, as if she were weighing just how serious he was being. The fact that she couldn’t trust him flayed him, and he had no one to blame but himself for that. Finally, slowly, she nodded. “You could clear your schedule for the weekend,” she said. “There are some new fellows coming in, and Dr. Gunst is back today. We should be fully staffed, and you’ve more than earned time off.”

  He felt a stab of doubt as his mind raced through his schedule. He hadn’t planned on going to the hospital that weekend—not officially, anyway—but weekends were usually devoted to policy work. He hadn’t had a true “day off” since the cookie day with Harry, and he’d wound up napping through a lot of that.

  Summer seemed to read his thoughts, and she frowned. “Think you can manage that?” It was a challenge—and a warning.

  He owed it to her. He cared about her more than he could process, and he loved Harry immediately, even if it scared the hell out of him. He needed to make time for them. He needed to show them that he could put his money where his mouth was, as it were.

  “I’ll clear my schedule,” he agreed.

  “All right.” She nodded resolutely. “I’ll even make something for dinner. It’s been a while since I cooked—I’ll admit, it’s been great to have a personal chef, especially when I’m exhausted during the week. But I do miss cooking sometimes. It’ll be a nice little family meal, just you, Harry, and me.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Nic said, then gave in to impulse and pulled her closer, tugging her into his lap and nuzzling her neck. “You’ve got two hours until work, you say?”

  She burst out laughing, the sound warming him through. “Shoulda come home last night,” she said smugly, tugging out of his embrace. “But hey, maybe if our schedules work out later…”

  He let out a low growl of anticipation, even as his body screamed for more sleep.

  “But you’re going to need to get some sleep, or you’re going to be useless to me,” she pointed out, straightening her clothes. “Why don’t you go up, grab a few hours, then get Harry ready for Alma?”

  He nodded. He could do this.

  But as he slowly trod his way towards the bedroom, his eyes low-lidded and ready to fall asleep again, his body protested. His royal duties were his destiny. His profession in medicine was a promise to his brother. And now he had his own little family.

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could juggle everything before he dropped something important.

  14

  There was a pan of butter chicken simmering on the stove. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing simmering in the well-appointed kitchen. Summer’s anger had been on a low boil all day. Technically, Nic had arranged to clear his schedule, but apparently, she should’ve been more specific when she said “take the day off.” He was surgically attached to his phone—pun intended—and the hospital had called at various points during the day. Most of them were progress reports, but she could see the concern in his face, and she’d grudgingly relented. When a child had come in with a ruptured spleen, she’d recognized it as a true emergency, and he’d vanished for most of the afternoon.

  When he’d returned, he’d been able to report that he saved the patient, who should recover beautifully. He looked exhausted, though, so she didn’t express her growing irritation.

  “Just five more minutes,” Nic said, and she nodded, settling on the living room carpet and playing trains with Harry.

  From there, there was an “emergency” having to do with an upcoming political presentation around the roll-out of some kind of medical benefit thing that, frankly, she didn’t really understand. She’d watched as Nic tapped out answers on his phone, only vaguely acknowledging when Harry handed him a toy to look at. “That’s great,” he’d said absently, before texting something else.

  Summer gritted her teeth.

  “Hey, Nic,” she said carefully, as she pulled together ingredients for their dinner, “can you watch Harry while I cook? It’s a lot easier to deal with cutting stuff and using the gas burners when I’m not worried that he’s underfoot.”

  “Um… can you give me a minute?” Nic said, looking at her imploringly. “I just got an email from the Minister of the Interior. They’re overhauling some emergency response stuff, and I promised him I’d look it over and give him feedback, and I forgot about it.”

  “Does this really need to happen tonight?” Summer said, trying not to sound waspish.

  “Politics don’t sleep,” Nic said, sounding apologetic… but also looking at Harry with a combination of anxiety and sadness. “I’ll try to keep it as brief as possible.”

  Summer pursed her lips. “All right.”

  “And then I just need to finish just a touch of paperwork,” Nic added.

  She glared at him, but he’d already turned and headed to his office.

  Nic had made an agreement, damn it. He was supposed to be bonding with Harry and spending time with their little family unit. He’d found loopholes, and it made her feel badly.

  She’d decided to cook the butter chicken because it was easy and it was one of her best recipes, and she was trying to remind Nic of their favorite little Indian restaurant back in L.A. It was something that Harry liked, too, with rice and vegetables. Nic had promised that they’d have a family meal together, and she liked that it was something she’d made… not a royally prepared meal from the luxurious private chef. This might not be perfect, but it felt homey and comfy, and hopefully would make them feel more like a family.

  And that’s what you want, isn’t it?

  She felt her cheeks heat, in a way that had nothing to do with the burners on the stove. Yes. If she were admitting it to herself… that’s exactly what she wanted. A man who was in love with her, who loved their son to distraction.

  Not one who kept disappearing into his office, seeming to forget that they were there at all.

  “Mama!”

  Harry was banging on a pot with a wooden spoon, fraying her already agitated nerves. She sighed, taking the pot, ignoring his wail of disappointment. Then she picked him up, putting him on the countertop. She’d already washed things up, for the most part, and there wasn’t anything hot or sharp within arm’s reach. “Let me just fluff the rice,” she said. “You can direct the band with your spoon, okay? You like that.” Ever since he’d seen a cartoon with an orchestra, he could be distracted for at least a few minutes with that gambit.

  She took care of the rice, which was cooked perfectly, and gave the vegetables one last quick stir. Then she turned back and yelped.

  She’d forgotten that she’d picked up fudge cupcakes as a special treat for dessert. Now, she rushed to intercept him, but it was too late. Harry recognized the little cakes on the plate and moved with a ninja-like stealth she didn’t know he was capable of. His fat fingers squished the cake, half stuffed in his mouth, half smeared across his chubby baby cheeks. He made a muffled sound of mischief as his light blue eyes twinkled with glee.

  “Gah!” Summer quickly grabbed what cake she could out of his hands. He’d managed to devour most of it and was wearing what was left. “Harry, no. That’s not okay!”

  He didn’t look repentant. If anything, he was now scowling that she’d ruined his fun, and reached for the rest of the cakes on the plate.

  “Oh, no, buddy,” she said, grabbing a towel and getting it wet. “You’d better not have spoiled your dinner, either. What a mess!”

  At least dinner was ready. The sooner she could get some chicken and veggies into this little guy, the better. She propped him on her hip. Nic’s time was up. She didn’t care if he was on the phone with all the leaders of NATO, he was damned well coming down to dinner.

  She made her way up the stairs, trying to keep a leash on her temper, and knocked gently on Nic’s office door. “Nic?”

  To her surprise, the door wasn’t completely latched, so it swung open.

  She took in the tableau in front of her. Nic wasn’t on the phone. His laptop was open, but Nic’s head was pillowed on his forearms. He was sound asleep on the desk.

  She sighed. The man seemed to run on four hours of sleep and black coffee or tea so strong it could strip paint. He couldn’t keep going on this way. Why couldn’t he see that? She saw a picture of Nic, maybe ten years old, with a child so like Harry that it startled her. That must have been his brother, she realized, wondering again what the story was there. He’d tell her when he was ready, she thought, even though his protective armor was yet another thing that was rankling her.

  She sighed, wrangling the squirming Harry, ready to gently wake Nic up. But she paused, her hand out, as she saw a folder on his laptop’s background.

  For Summer.

  Well, her name was on it, she reasoned. Glancing at him, she saw he was still out like a light. Feeling only a touch guilty, she clicked on the folder, then opened the document.

  Her eyes widened.

  It was for a job listing. For her. In San Diego.

  “What the actual hell?” she muttered.

  Nic snuffled, then shifted slightly.

  She could not deal with this. Not right now.

  “C’mon, Harry,” she said instead, bringing Harry back downstairs. She’d feed him, bathe him, get him ready for bed.

  And then, she thought angrily, she and Nic were going to have words.

  A few hours later, Summer had already packed up the leftovers, cleaned up the kitchen, and gotten Harry bathed and ready for bed. She’d spent the rest of the time with a glass of wine, a cupcake, and scrolling through shows on television, unable to focus on any of them. Nic came downstairs, rubbing at his head, his expression apprehensive and abashed.

  “It’s later than I thought,” he said. “I’m sorry, Summer. You should’ve woken me.”

  “Yeah, well, you should’ve told me you were shipping me off,” she said. “It would’ve saved time and spared me subjecting Harry to this whole charade.”

  His eyes widened, and he rushed to the couch, sitting next to her. “What are you talking about?”

  Even now, anger warred with tears of frustration and disappointment. She fought to keep her voice even. “I saw the folder, Nic,” she said sharply. “On your laptop. You’re finding me a job now? One that’s thousands of miles away, on another continent?”

  He closed his eyes. “It’s not like that. Not quite, anyway.”

  “Then what is it like?” Her voice broke, and she hated it for that. She blinked back tears.

  “I was doing research for our hospital benefits, and I came across the listing,” he said. “I know that the fellowship is only a few months longer. Do you honestly think I don’t know you have options? That your skills as a pediatric specialist wouldn’t be valued in other places?”

  She swallowed against a fresh wave of emotion. Whatever else might irritate her, his belief in her medical skills had always been unwavering, his support absolutely unconditional.

  “I… I care about you and Harry,” he said, his handsome face frowning. “I want what’s best for you. Whatever that looks like. I know I didn’t do a good job today of showing that.”

  He sounded sorry, was the damnable thing about it. She sighed heavily. “No. No, you didn’t.”

  “The emergency…”

  “I’m a doctor, too,” she said quickly. “I am never going to tell you to ignore a child in trouble. But between the hospital and the royal duties, you’re spread too thin. You can’t keep going this way, Nic… not just for me and Harry, but for yourself. You can’t sustain this.”

  He looked stubborn for a second, then rubbed at his temples with his fingertips. “It might not look like it, but I was managing it before you got here.”

  She drew back, and he made a little noise of protest.

  “No! No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, and reached over, tugging at her gently. She fought it for a second, then relented, letting him envelope her in his arms. Why was his warmth so comforting? And why couldn’t she resist it? “I mean… yes, it’s a lot. I think I was just getting into a routine, I’d just hit a balance, and I wasn’t ready when I found you again, and when I learned about Harry. It’s going to take me a little time to figure out how to re-balance what I have.”

  “Is that what you want?” she asked, feeling hesitation. The faces of foster parents, potential adoptive parents, flashed in front of her mind. So many times when she’d gotten her hopes up.

  So many times when she’d been disappointed.

  “It is what I want,” Nic breathed. “I see Harry, and you, and I think I don’t want anything more. But I just seem to keep messing it up.”