But now…

  Of all the ways that he could’ve gotten Summer back in his life, this was one he never would have anticipated. And it would’ve been difficult to reconnect with her after his disappearing act two years ago, but now there was a little person in the mix that required love. Nic needed to make sure he did what was best for them.

  And what’s best for them?

  Was it someone who spent an outrageous amount of time at the hospital—someone who had made a promise to his dead brother? Someone ensuring that his life’s mission, taking care of sick children, was carried out, no matter what cost to his personal life? Was it someone who juggled a career in the medical profession with his duties as the son of a monarch—and all the ceremonial and political weight that carried?

  Was that what Summer wanted for Harry? Was that what she wanted for herself?

  His heart sank as he wrestled with the hard truth.

  What was best for Summer and Harry, he realized, might not mean being an active part of their lives.

  5

  Summer tried not to look like an idiot, but she couldn’t stop staring as the driver dropped her and Harry off at the Royal Palace of Mynia. After making it past the ornate gates and down the sweeping, hedge-flanked drive, they finally pulled up to a set of marble stairs that led to the palace itself: a sprawling Baroque building, with pale-butter-yellow walls and ivory Corinthian columns, an enormous cupola, and a gilded victory statue.

  For a foster kid from Torrence, toddler in tow and a cheap diaper bag over her shoulder, it was intimidating as hell. This was a far cry from the little studio apartment she’d had in L.A.

  And Nic grew up here?

  As if the thought summoned him, Nic walked down the stairs to meet them. “Summer,” Nic said, smiling hesitantly. “Welcome.”

  “Thanks.” Last she’d seen him, he was wearing hospital scrubs. The uniform was familiar, equalizing. Now, Nic was wearing a simple blue button-down shirt and a pair of charcoal gray slacks, more formal than what he’d worn in California. Back then, he’d worn T-shirts and cargo pants. In his current expensive yet casual chic, he looked at home in this regal environment.

  Actually, he looked downright mouthwatering.

  She’d forgotten how devastating his looks could be. Her breath caught a little, and she frowned at herself.

  “And Harry,” Nic added, chucking him gently under his chubby little chin. “We’ve got some very excited people here to meet you.”

  Summer swallowed. It would be so much easier if her body didn’t react so strongly to Nic, but it seemed like she got within three feet of the man, and it was like no time had passed. Between her work and taking care of Harry, every sexual urge had been banked in favor of a desperate desire for sleep. Now? One look at Nic, even with all their history, and it was like she just wanted to take him to the nearest private room, lock the door, and tackle him. She shook her head at herself.

  Down, girl.

  “So you grew up here, huh?” she asked, balancing Harry on her hip.

  “Yes.” Nic’s smile was rueful as he led them through the hallways, through an elegantly appointed foyer. Enormous curving stairways led to an upper story, rich oil paintings were everywhere, as well as claw-footed antique furniture. The whole place was perfumed by elaborate floral arrangements. “Do you like it?”

  She tried to play it cool, but… “I’ll bet that table is more expensive than my car,” she blurted out.

  He grinned, then stopped Harry’s little grasping hand from grabbing a handful of exotic flowers from a nearby vase. “I’ll have you know, those stairway bannisters are a terror to slide down.”

  She laughed. “Daredevil.”

  “I’ll give you the full tour,” Nic said, with just a touch of mischief that shot zings right down to her toes. She cleared her throat, then followed him through a long corridor to what looked like a sumptuous sitting room. “After you meet my…”

  “Is this our grandson?” a woman interrupted impatiently.

  Summer, Nic, and Harry all looked over to where an attractive woman in her late fifties was walking towards them, arms outstretched. Next to her was an enormous teddy bear with… human legs protruding beneath it?

  Before she could question, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick moustache peered out from behind the stuffed giant. Harry laughed in delight, both at the bear and the surprise.

  “Summer,” Nic said, putting a protective hand on her lower back and gesturing towards the pair. “These are my parents. King Frederick and Queen Isabella.”

  “Just Frederick and Isabella, dear, no need for titles among family,” the woman said, rolling her eyes at Nic and surprising Summer with a quick, warm hug.

  Summer balked internally. Yeah. That’s gonna happen. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice weak.

  The king put down the stuffed animal he’d been carrying, hugging her as well. “Welcome to the family.”

  There was absolutely no way that Nic’s parents would realize just how much those words would affect her, after so many foster home disasters and the loss of her parents. She reeled from it, unable to form words. Fortunately, they seemed too fixated on their grandson to notice.

  “Oh my goodness,” Isabella said, pressing her hands to her lips. “What an absolutely gorgeous boy.”

  “He’s got those Hansen eyes,” Frederick said proudly. “Do you mind if I…” He held his hands out.

  Summer snapped out of her reverie. “Oh! Sure.” She snuggled Harry for a second, then handed him over.

  “Harry,” Frederick crooned. “What a big boy you are! And so strong!”

  Isabella gave Harry a hug as he was in his grandfather’s arms. “I’m your Oma,” she said, “and this is your Opa. And we love you very, very much.”

  Summer wasn’t sure what kind of reception she and Harry were going to get, frankly, but she certainly wasn’t expecting this level of acceptance. She saw Isabella brush some tears from her cheeks, obviously overwhelmed by emotion, and Frederick squeezed his wife’s shoulders, momentarily speechless. The looks on their faces were of an incalculable wonder and joy.

  Harry, in turn, was enamored with them. He climbed the teddy bear like it was Mount Everest and talked up a storm as his rapt grandparents nodded with every “word” like he was the most brilliant baby to ever babble.

  “He’ll have them wrapped around his little finger in a day,” Nic said in a low, amused voice, right by her ear. She’d forgotten just how sexy that deep voice of his sounded. She suppressed a shiver.

  “He’s captivating,” Frederick finally said, unable to tear his eyes from the little boy who was currently scampering around the room. “Once we make the announcement, no one with a set of eyes will question his lineage. And I’ll be honest, the royal ministers are relieved that the succession is secure, but mentioned a marriage wouldn’t be amiss, old fashioned as that may sound.”

  Summer stiffened. “Wait, what?”

  “He’s Nic’s son. And yours, obviously,” Isabella said. “There were political issues we had to address. But we want you to know that we recognize and accept Harry as a royal heir, and a press conference would be expedient. We don’t want you, or anyone, to doubt that.”

  Summer turned to Nic. “We never discussed this!”

  “No, we didn’t,” Nic said, his tone stern. “Mother, Father… this is new. Summer and I have a lot of things to discuss, and it’s not appropriate for us to thrust Summer and Harry into the spotlight until we have a lot more details ironed out.”

  Frederick looked abashed. “Yes, yes, of course,” he quickly agreed.

  “You two haven’t had a moment to process, have you?” Nic’s mother said. “Why don’t you leave the baby here with us for a bit, and spend some time together? Start ironing out those details.”

  Nic turned to Summer. “It’s not a bad idea.”

  Summer felt like she was going through emotional whiplash. Still, he had a good point. Things were happening quickly, but now that they were together again—even if they weren’t together as a couple—they needed to talk.

  “All right. That sounds good.”

  “Nic, why don’t you take her to the solarium? Have a good talk, then maybe we can all have supper?” his mother said, easing the diaper bag off of Summer’s arm.

  “Oh, if he needs anything…”

  “Don’t worry, dear. I’m an old hand at taking care of little boys.” For a second, Isabella’s face flashed with a bright, sharp grief, but it was so quick that Summer wondered if she imagined it. “Go ahead. We’ll call you when the food is ready.”

  Summer followed Nic back down the opulent hallway, this time to a room that was filled with plants, as well as some comfortable looking chairs and tables. But the focus was obviously the windows. The entire room was like a greenhouse, with cathedral-high windows and roof. She couldn’t stop the gasp that left her lips as she saw the night sky through the slanted glass.

  “It’s a great room, isn’t it?” Nic said. “We used to play in here when I was little. Actually, I broke one of the windows with a toy car once. Mother grounded me for a month.”

  Summer laughed. “It’s hard to think of you being grounded. Especially here. I mean, did she restrict you to one wing or something?”

  “I know, it seems strange,” Nic answered ruefully. “I grew up with this, so it doesn’t seem strange to me. Of course we have butlers and huge grounds. I could host a state dinner by the time I was twelve, and probably hold my own press conferences by the time I was sixteen. I’m the heir apparent—it’s what I was raised for.”

  Summer rubbed her arms with her hands, even though it wasn’t cold in the room. “Is that what you expect Harry to be raised for?”

  Because that isn’t what I signed up for. And she wasn’t sure it’s what she wanted for Harry.

  Nic let out a huff of breath. “I can’t stop being the Crown Prince of Mynia,” he replied. “But I am never going to put you, or my son, in a position where you’re uncomfortable, or feel hounded or judged. I just found you again. I don’t want to drive you away because of the pressures of my life, but I also don’t want to force you into a prison of royal expectations.”

  Some of Summer’s tension eased. “Where do you see this going?” she pressed. “You said you want Harry in your life. How do you see that working?”

  He looked at her, those intense blue eyes like beacons. Then he took a step closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne, so familiar even after all this time. “I don’t just want Harry in my life, I want you in my life,” he said, his voice husky.

  She felt an unwilling thrill of attraction shoot through her like lightning.

  “We’re in a different position now than we were, and I need to earn your trust. What I want to know is if you are willing to give me that opportunity?”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “What’d you have in mind?”

  “I’d like you to move in with me.”

  She choked. “That’s kinda quick, isn’t it?”

  “My life is intense,” he said. “I work brutal hours. Being a doctor, and being Crown Prince, means a lot of responsibility. But I want to see my son. And I’ve wanted to be close to you since I first saw you.”

  Her body heated, and she leaned closer to him, even though she knew it was a bad idea. “I don’t know…”

  “You can have your own room,” he promised. “Nothing happens unless you want it to happen. Just… let me get close to you again. And let me get to know Harry.”

  She bit her lip. He tucked a stray lock of wavy hair behind her ear, then segued into stroking her cheek. She sighed as she rested her face in his cupped palm. He was like a magnet, and she was the stupid, reckless iron filing that just couldn’t resist him.

  “The fellowship housing is sort of cramped, anyway,” she mused. “I suppose Harry would stay with me, in my room?”

  “He can have an adjoining room if you’d rather,” Nic agreed easily. “And I can either hire Alma, or we can get a different nanny while we’re working. Whatever works best for you.”

  When she was young, she’d dreamed of having a family like the one she grew up with: happy parents who doted on their child. She’d dreamed of work that made a difference. Now, Nic was handing her that childhood dream on a platter, after years of foster home disappointments and the pain of his own disappearance. He was even throwing in the added benefit of doting grandparents. Oh, and he was royalty. It was a fairy tale come true.

  Except for the happy marriage part. She’d always wanted Harry to be raised by parents who loved each other. She wasn’t going to jump into something fake just because Nic’s royal ministers advised it. She wasn’t settling for anything less than love on that front.

  But as for the rest of it…

  All she had to do was say yes. Spend time with him. Live with him.

  And hope that nothing went wrong.

  She swallowed. “All right. We’ll move in with you.”

  Nic’s smile was brilliant. “I’ll have Terrance move your belongings tomorrow.”

  She felt her heart racing, but she nodded. Now, she just had to see if her gut was right the first time—that Nic was worth knowing, and maybe worth loving—or if the father of her child was going to break her heart all over again.

  6

  “So… this is home.”

  Nic couldn’t help but study Summer’s face as they made their way through the doors of his home. It was on the water, with its own private white-sand beach. She walked past the spacious open plan living room, with its floor-to-ceiling French doors. Thankfully they were both off that day, and he’d had one of his housekeepers go to her fellowship housing and fetch their belongings. He saw Summer’s brilliant hazel eyes going wide as she took in the details of his home, Harry balanced on her hip.

  He turned, looking at it as if for the first time, wondering what she saw. It was still a mansion, but he’d made sure it wasn’t like the palace. The floors were a warm local hardwood, leading from the foyer to a staircase that lead up to the bedrooms. The foyer opened up to a well-appointed living room, with a conversation pit flanked by slate gray suede couches that faced the gorgeous ocean view. There was a thick rug, a large fireplace that was more for ambiance than utility, a large flat-screen TV. While there were official painted portraits of the royal family up at the palace, here he’d kept framed black-and-white candids of his parents, and his best friends.

  He didn’t have pictures of Tom down here, though. They simply hurt too much. Those, he kept private.

  Summer, he noticed, was still silent, taking the whole thing in.

  “I mean, it’s not the palace,” he deadpanned, “but hopefully we can make do?”

  “I like that it’s not the palace,” she mused, then brought herself up short, a look of embarrassment crossing her face. Her cheeks pinkened. “Not that the palace isn’t nice!”

  He grinned in return. Damn, she looked good wearing a blush.

  “It’s just—the palace was huge,” she said, tucking one of the waves of her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “And… impressive. Marble columns. Crystal chandeliers. I think there was actual gold on the ceilings!”

  He nodded. “Gilding, yes.”

  “Gilding, he says,” she muttered, and he chuckled. “No, this is gorgeous, but it’s genuine. Comfortable and beautiful. It feels… more like a home, you know?”

  Her simple words struck him like an arrow.

  Like a home.

  He’d wanted that, the comfort of a home. Funny how, no matter how many designers he’d hired or remodels he’d done, it hadn’t really felt like a home until Summer stood in his living room.

  “You’re lucky,” Summer said, with a lopsided smile. “You must love spending time here.”

  He shrugged, smiling ruefully as he shepherded Summer and Harry up the staircase. “I haven’t spent a lot of time here,” he admitted. “I tend to spend a lot of time at the hospital. And when I’m not there, I’m usually holed up in my office. That’s over there,” he added, gesturing to the study. It looked like an antiquarian bookstore, compared to the luxurious beach casual downstairs—built-in bookcases and a huge antique mahogany desk. The surface was littered with various proposals and research papers, and his laptop was open.

  “I see you haven’t changed,” Summer teased. “Still a workaholic. And a tiny bit messy.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He liked her teasing, too. He walked them down the hallway and opened a door. “I… um, hope this works for you.”

  The spare bedroom, with an adjoining room and its own en suite bathroom, had been only meant for guests. He had used his royal privilege to have a children’s store stay open late, and he’d paid an exorbitant amount to have a discreet contractor spend most of the night getting the doorway finished and Harry’s bedroom ready.

  “Wow,” Summer breathed, walking through the new doorway and seeing the crib, changing table, dresser, all with a jaunty nautical theme. There was an enormous toy box, already filled to overflowing with a number of toys. “This is amazing.”

  It was certainly a change from the impersonal area it had been. He didn’t even think he’d been in this room in months, and now a whimsical play area suddenly burst into his world. It was both exciting and jarring. “If there’s anything you want that isn’t there, just tell me, and I’ll make sure it arrives,” Nic promised. “Or if you want different furniture, or anything…”

  “Are you kidding? This is—I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful this is!” She stepped towards him, giving him a quick, impulsive hug as best as she could with a wiggly Harry in her arms. His body tightened at the proximity. It had been years since he’d been able to touch Summer, to smell her unique perfume, like a combination of citrus and some light, clean flower. He nuzzled her hair, just for a second, letting his arm rest around her shoulder until she pulled away, her cheeks flaming again.