“Hello? Is anyone there?”

  He closed his eyes.

  “Is that…?” Summer put Harry down, and he immediately scrambled for the toy bin with a crow of absolute delight.

  “My parents,” Nic said, shaking his head. “Now that they know about Harry, you’re probably going to be seeing a lot of them.”

  “I think it’s sweet,” Summer said.

  “Nicolas?” The question got more impatient.

  “We’re up here!” Nic responded, and within minutes, his parents burst into the room. As expected, they gravitated immediately to Harry.

  “I apologize for arriving unannounced. We simply couldn’t stay away,” his mother said, giving him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before zeroing in on her grandson.

  “Toy train,” his father said, proudly showing off a wooden model of a steam locomotive he’d brought in. “Think he’ll like it?”

  Summer’s sunshiny laugh rang out. “If it’s from you, I think he’d like a cardboard box,” she said, causing his father to join in with his own booming laugh.

  “Oh, look at this little man,” his mother said, letting Harry take her by the hand. He was babbling up a storm, handing her toys one at a time from the bin before running in a tight circle, giggling, his laughter so similar to Summer that it made heat pulse through his chest. “He’s so excited! So happy!”

  “He’s always been like that,” Summer said, having put the diaper bag down, and she looked around the room. “I imagine Nic was like that, too.”

  His mother’s eyes met his. “No,” she said, and a note of melancholy crept into her voice. “Nic was always a serious child.”

  Nic felt his throat choke. It was Tom, he remembered—Tom was the happy one, the bright one. The one who loved life, even at such a young age.

  The flood of emotion hit him unexpectedly. Watching Harry brought up memories he’d long forgotten, hitting him harder and faster than he could prepare for. “Does anybody want lunch?” Nic asked, his voice gruff. “I’ll, ah, pull something together. No, you two stay here with Harry,” he added, when his mother’s sympathetic expression made it seem like she was going to volunteer to help. He tried to soften it with a joke. “I know he’s who you came to visit, anyway.”

  “Darned straight,” his father said, and his mother laughed.

  Nic took the opportunity to flee, heading down the stairs, through the living room, into the large, gourmet kitchen. His personal chef wasn’t aware—yet—of the two new occupants that had just moved into the house. He’d have to make sure that Harry had the right kinds of foods on hand. What did toddlers eat, anyway?

  He frowned. He wasn’t quite sure what they’d be able to manage in the way of lunch, for that matter. After a few minutes searching, he pulled out various odds and ends, setting up a charcuterie board and a cheese platter with some crackers. He added some caviar, some honeycomb, and decorated the board with a sprig of rosemary.

  “Wow,” he heard a voice behind him, and turned to find Summer leaning against one of the marble countertops, her arms folded as she watched him assemble the snacks. “If this doctor gig doesn’t pan out, you could have a shot at being a decent chef.”

  “I’m good at arranging things on a plate,” he clarified, and was rewarded with one of her smiles. “And re-heating. But actual cooking? Not so much.”

  “Guess that’ll be my job, then?”

  He shook his head. “We’ve got a housekeeping staff, and a personal chef. They keep the fridge stocked and prep dinners. They also do laundry.”

  “Now that’s how you win a woman,” she joked. “It’s not about the gilded ceilings. It’s the laundry service.”

  “Stick with me, and you’ll never have to fold again,” he joked.

  She shook her head. “You think you’re kidding, but trust me. You are not going to believe how much laundry one little boy can generate in a week. Between full-contact eating, diaper accidents, and his unfailing ability to find mud and play in it, it’s enough to make you weep.”

  Nic’s smile shifted as amusement made way for admiration. “You’ve done a fantastic job with him,” he said. “It’s obvious how much you love him, and how hard you’ve worked to keep him healthy and happy.”

  “He’s my heart,” she said simply, shrugging. “It wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it.”

  Nic stepped closer to her. “You’re amazing.”

  She was wearing a simple baby blue top with a scoop neck, and a pair of jeans that looked comfortably sexy, hugging every curve. Her cheeks glowed pink under his praise, and she tucked a wayward lock of hair behind one ear before her hazel gaze met his.

  In so many ways, she looked just like the vibrant, compelling woman he’d been drawn to so long ago, that night they’d saved a child’s life. But over two years had passed. In that time, she’d held up under the pressures of being a single mother and a doctor with not only grace but a radiance that attracted him even more.

  He knew that it was going to be difficult. He’d already felt stretched thin as it was, juggling his medical practice and his royal duties. But the least he could do was make the effort to be there for his child—and get to know Summer again, without any lies between them. Show her that he was trying, and that he wanted to be a part of their lives. Somehow be as good a father as she was a mother.

  If there’s even a way I could somehow manage that…

  “I guess it’s a long way from being a Crown Prince,” she murmured, looking away.

  He tilted her chin up to look at him. “You are amazing,” he repeated, making sure she was looking into his eyes for emphasis. “I am in awe of you.”

  Her full lips curved into a smile. He wanted to kiss her, more badly than he could remember wanting anything.

  Small steps.

  Reluctantly, he lowered his hand and took a deep breath. “Would you like to go to a gala with me?”

  She blinked. “Um… a gala?” she echoed. “For what?”

  “The expansion of a national bank,” he said. “It’s at the end of next week. I know we’re taking things slow, but I thought it might be nice. If you’d accompany me, I mean.” He paused. “Only if you want to?”

  She bit her lip. God, she was killing him. He forced himself to put his hands in his pockets. “This may be a surprise,” she said ruefully, “but I’ve never been to a gala before.”

  “It’s just a fancy word for party,” he said, trying to put her at ease. “There’ll be appetizers and champagne, and a bunch of people in formal wear making small talk.”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” she said, with a nervous chuckle. “How can I resist?”

  “It’d be a chance to get to know each other a bit,” he added, feeling strangely nervous himself. “Not at the hospital. And not just in terms of Harry, although I want to spend time with him, too.”

  “It has been a while since I’ve had a night out,” she admitted. “I feel a little guilty saying that.”

  “Don’t. You deserve a break, too,” Nic said.

  “I don’t have anything that dressy…”

  “Let me worry about that.” Nic was looking forward to buying her something pretty—something that she’d enjoy. He wanted to spoil her. He got the feeling she’d had precious little spoiling in her life.

  “And I guess I’d have to see if Alma can work overtime…?”

  “Nonsense. No need to get a babysitter,” Isabella interjected, walking through the doorway. Frederick trailed behind with Harry riding his shoulders, crowing and tugging his hair. “We are more than happy to watch the baby whenever you like.”

  Nic watched as Summer laughed helplessly. “I guess… yes?”

  He wanted to crow himself. He was overjoyed. And nervous. Thrilled and overwhelmed.

  And most of all, he was determined to not screw this up.

  7

  Summer felt like the world’s most self-conscious Cinderella. The queen herself had taken her shopping, some super-private boutique where she was catered to like… well, like a princess. They’d chosen a shimmering midnight blue dress with a sweetheart neckline and a flowing long skirt. A pair of killer Christian Louboutins, in a matching blue with peep toes and dramatic bows at the back of the heel, completed the look.

  The price tags made her stomach drop like she was on a roller coaster, but the queen waved it away, putting it on Nic’s account. “Someday you’ll be representing Mynia, and this will all be old hat,” Isabella said, with a small grin. “At least, that’s what I hope. You and Harry are so sweet.”

  “Thank you,” Summer said, trying not to squirm at the compliment. “You and the king have been wonderful, too.” She struggled with how to word it. “Less… formal than I would have expected.”

  Isabella smiled. “That was always because of the boys,” she said. “Frederick and I wanted to make sure that our family was just that, a family. There are so many royal families where the image and the role become more important than the actual people. We never wanted that.”

  Summer nodded, then mentally paused. The boys? As far as she knew, Nic was an only child.

  “Let’s make this a full girl’s day, shall we?” the queen continued, her eyes twinkling, before Summer could ask anything. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a bit of a spa day.”

  Which is how Summer found herself at a small but luxurious spa, getting a massage, which felt like heaven to her shoulders and arms, sore from lugging Harry around, and her feet, which were usually a wreck from hours spent doing rounds at the hospital. She was in a little cocoon of happiness when a hair stylist came in, taming the wild shoulder-length waves of her hair into something that looked elegant and sexy, and then a cosmetician artfully applied her makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror, eyes widening with surprise. She looked good. Still like herself, but completely glamorous at the same time. The effect was compounded when she got dressed.

  She was meeting Nic at the hotel where the gala was being held, and because of her impromptu spa day with the queen, she was headed directly there to meet him. They’d talked about going together, but Nic realized that it would cause too much of a commotion, too many questions. She and Nic still needed to have a meeting with the head of Royal Communications and some ministers, about how and when they were going to roll out the identity of the new royal heir. In the meantime, they would limit public appearances with Harry and Nic together: it was simply too easy to see the similarities between the two. For tonight, she was just going to meet Nic there as his colleague and casual date.

  The hotel was on the other side of the island, one of the expensive resorts that overlooked the sea. It was gorgeous, a pair of shiny towers rising up out of the white sand beach, all black and silver and sleek. She rode the glass elevator to the rooftop, doors opening to a party in full swing, with men in expensive tuxedos and women in a rainbow of fancy gowns. Summer tried not to swivel her head to look at everything at once.

  Just be cool. The last thing she needed—and Nic needed—was for her to draw attention to herself, and show just how poorly she fit into this crowd.

  She was sipping at a flute of champagne one of the caterers had offered when Nic arrived. He stepped out of the elevator, looking like a million dollars in a tailored black tuxedo, every hair in place, his blue eyes piercing as his gaze swept the room. She could hear conversations stop immediately, then murmurs explode as they recognized the Crown Prince’s arrival. She couldn’t blame them: Nic looked mesmerizing, every inch the handsome royal. People fawned over him. Women tried to catch his eye. People shook his hand, drawing him into conversation. He worked the room, slowly making his way over to her.

  This was so outside of her comfort zone, it might as well be outer space. Part of her felt like ducking out the service elevator and fleeing back to the house. But Nic was determined to spend time with her, to get to know her again, and given his schedule, this might be one of the best times for them to accomplish that. Besides, the important thing was this was his world. If things worked out—if they worked out—this was going to be Harry’s world, too. If she couldn’t manage a simple gala, it would bode ill for their future.

  No pressure.

  Nic finally made it to her side, nodding hello to someone before focusing on her. He seemed to pick up on her stress and gave her a comforting squeeze around her shoulders. “You doing all right? I’m sorry about the separate entrances,” he apologized.

  “It’s fine,” she said truthfully, glad that all that attention hadn’t been focused on her—not until they had more answers about whatever the heck they were. “Really. No problem.”

  “What do you think?” He gestured around the room.

  She smiled, a little strained. “It’s gorgeous,” she said honestly. “A little intimidating, but…”

  “Don’t feel intimidated,” he quickly said. “You look amazing. I’m proud to be here with you.” His grin was quicksilver, his blue eyes shining. “I’m lucky to be here with you.”

  She felt her cheeks heat with a blush, whether that was from the compliment or the sparkling wine, she wasn’t sure.

  “C’mon. You should see the view,” he said, tugging her towards the rail. She gasped. The sun was setting into the water, the sky melting from a fiery orange to salmon to a deep purple-violet before finally turning to the deep darkness of night. It was breathtaking.

  “Look who decided to show up,” a male voice teased.

  Summer looked over her shoulder to see two tall, handsome men with matching grins, zeroing in on Nic. Nic immediately broke out into a rueful grin in response.

  “Man,” Nic said, shaking his head. “They’ll let anybody in these days, won’t they?”

  The three burst into a shared laugh, shaking hands, giving each other those one-shoulder “bro-hugs.” Then the two men looked at Summer with obvious curiosity.

  Nic put his arm around her shoulders, almost protectively, and smiled at her with enough fondness that she felt her stomach flutter and heat.

  “This is Summer Rand,” Nic said. “We were residents together, in California, and now she’s a fellow at the hospital here in Mynia. We were fortunate enough to reconnect.”

  “Ah.” The first guy’s look was assessing. Summer sent Nic a prompting look.

  “Right. These are my two best, oldest friends,” he continued. “Prince Erik Devlin, and Prince Ben Durand.”

  “Princes?” Summer squeaked. “Both of you?”

  “Don’t hold it against us,” Prince Erik said with a wink.

  “And please,” Prince Ben added, “just Ben and Erik. Let’s not stand on ceremony.”

  “Ah, Your Highness.” A platinum blonde woman in a shimmering silver gown interrupted apologetically. “If you have a moment, a few members of the bank’s board would love to have a word?”

  Nic shot a sheepish look at Summer. “It’ll just be a moment,” he leaned closer, whispering in her ear. Then he spoke more clearly. “I’ll just leave you in Erik and Ben’s hands. I promise, I won’t be long.”

  “You do what you need to do,” Summer assured him. It was part of his job, she imagined, and she didn’t want to get in the way of that. It did make her a little uncomfortable, though. The woman escorted Nic towards a group of older men and women who greeted him enthusiastically. She watched as he shook hands, his smile warm and winning. Every person seemed to bloom under his attention.

  “I see he’s still a charming bastard when he wants to be,” Erik noticed wryly. “Was he like that in California?”

  “Like you said, when he wants to be,” she echoed. “He’s got a wonderful bedside manner, can make any kid or parent feel at ease. It’s part of what makes him a great doctor.”

  “It’s what makes him a great Crown Prince,” Ben said. “The guy was born to be king.”

  She smirked at him. “Aren’t you technically all born to be king?”

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Erik rolled his eyes, then grinned at her.

  “Yes, technically,” Ben said instead. “But even when we were kids, you could tell—Nic just had skills. Smart, earnest, well-spoken.”

  “Kept us from getting in trouble a slew of times,” Erik added. “He’s got this trustworthy vibe.”

  She nodded. She’d certainly felt that way about him.

  Until he left.

  “So you knew him when he was growing up,” Summer said, shaking off the negative path her mind was starting to wander down. “I’ll bet you have some great stories.”

  Erik’s grin widened.

  Half an hour later, Nic made his way back to Summer’s side. “I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing her bare shoulder lightly with his fingertips. “That took a bit longer than I’d hoped.”

  “That’s fine,” she reassured him. “Erik and Ben here have been sharing stories about your summers together.”

  “Oh?” Nic’s eyebrow quirked as he surveyed his friends.

  Ben’s laugh was deep and rolling. “Rest assured, nothing too bad.”

  “We were saving the worst for blackmail purposes,” Erik joked.

  Nic shook his head, smiling ruefully. “I’ve done the royal rounds,” he said, “met all the requisite patrons, and now I’m starving. Want to get out of here?” His sky-blue gaze was heated.

  “All right,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

  She wondered if he was going to suggest something else to complete the fairy tale experience. Some luxurious restaurant for a sumptuous eight-course private dinner? Or a gourmet picnic somewhere? She wasn’t sure if she was excited or exhausted. She felt so out of place.

  “If I’m being honest,” he said, in a low, shiver-inducing voice, “I could murder a pizza right now.”

  She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

  He sighed. “I may be a prince, Summer, but it doesn’t change who I am. I’m still the Nic you knew.” He gestured at the opulence surrounding them. “I just… have this too.”

  She took a deep breath. “So, about this pizza.”

  His grin was everything.