“Hey, Nic!” Rachel called out, and Nic grinned.

  “Rachel! It’s good to see you again,” he called out warmly. “I just needed to get a few files, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Don’t tell me: you’re working overtime?” Rachel said with a snicker. “Haven’t changed much, I see.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Nic answered. He yawned, then looked guiltily at Summer and the camera. “I just have a few more things to clear up, then we can go to dinner.”

  Summer studied Nic’s face. His bright blue eyes had shadows under them, and his whole demeanor seemed tapped out.

  “Why don’t we just order a pizza?” she asked instead. “That way, we don’t need to get Alma here to watch Harry, or bring him to your parents’ place.”

  “You mean the palace?” Rachel popped in, and Summer rolled her eyes.

  Nic, on the other hand, still looked guilty, but also relieved. “If you really don’t mind,” he prevaricated.

  “We’ll call it an early night,” Summer said. “Besides, you’ll need all your energy to watch Harry tomorrow, I bet.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “You said you’d watch Harry?” she reminded him, pressing her hands together under the table. “Remember?”

  “Right! Yes. Of course.” He looked distracted. “I’ll, ah, go call for pizza. Rachel, it was great seeing you again.” He shut the door behind him.

  Summer turned back to the laptop to see Rachel’s sympathetic expression in high def. “Still working out the kinks,” Rachel agreed. “But I still have hope for you two.”

  Summer nodded, trying to feel hopeful, too.

  But it was hard.

  12

  “There are diapers in his changing table, and fresh clothes—he’ll probably need them at some point,” Summer fussed the next morning. “He’s had milk and breakfast. At this point, he’ll probably go down for a nap after lunch.”

  “All right,” Nic said, trying to sound more confident than he felt as he watched Harry zoom a car around his bedroom carpet.

  “If he gets hungry, he can have yogurt or one of his snack packs…”

  “We’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  Summer worried at her full lower lip with those pearl-white teeth of hers. “You’ve got this?”

  It was almost insulting. Almost. Nic sent her an indulgent smile back. “Don’t worry. I’m a grown man, we’ve a house full of food and clothes and toys and whatever else an active boy might need. I can figure this out.”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sorry. Of course, you’re right. And you should take advantage of the time. Let Harry get used to you.”

  The words seemed loaded, and he knew that, despite spending a bit of time with Harry with the cookies and the cartoon, it had still been a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of time Summer had spent with her son. Their son.

  He cleared his throat. “You could always spend some time out, after paperwork is done,” he suggested. “Check out the island. Maybe get a bit of shopping in.” He reached into his wallet, holding out a black card. “Get whatever you like.” He liked the idea of her spoiling herself a bit, getting something that made her smile.

  She looked at him like he’d goosed her. “I don’t need that,” she stammered, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment. “But maybe I’ll check out the boardwalk a bit more. Grab a burger or something. See if you guys have a bookstore or cafe.” She winked. “I am a sucker for a good bookstore.”

  He remembered that she liked books, but rarely had time to read them, back when they were residents. He made a mental note to see what he could order for her, that she’d like.

  After a little bit, she left, leaving Nic alone with Harry. Harry squawked a bit at her initial departure, but shortly thereafter, he was back to colliding cars with a loud racket. He seemed nicely preoccupied. Nic watched, his heart swelling with emotion as Harry offered him a gummy smile.

  This kid. Every day, he felt more and more for this tiny person who’d inadvertently rocked his world. That said, Nic wasn’t really sure what to do about the whole “playing with cars” thing now that he was an adult. Besides, Harry seemed to be doing fine on his own in his small-scale demolition derby. Maybe Nic could bring his laptop into the room and create a few slides for his next presentation to the health ministry while Harry was otherwise entertained.

  He was only just down the hallway for a second when suddenly Harry’s blood-curdling shriek pierced the air. Turning, Nic sprinted back to the room to find Harry crying.

  “What? What? What happened?” His heart raced with adrenaline and panic. He shifted over to medical mindset, looking over Harry’s body. Had he hurt himself? There were no marks, no blood.

  Tom, falling over, his face going slack…

  Nic shook his head. He couldn’t afford to panic, to freak out, to lose it. Not now. Not if something was wrong with Harry.

  But Harry didn’t seem hurt. If anything, he just seemed… annoyed?

  Perhaps… perhaps he was irritated that Nic had left the room? Would a toddler react that way? Should a toddler react that way?

  Was there something else wrong with Harry?

  It took a few more minutes of observation before Harry seemed to settle into easy play, obviously unharmed. But Nic couldn’t help feel the terror that had gripped him, slow to release him from its chokehold.

  Suddenly, Nic regretted his previous cavalier attitude about spending the day with Harry. He was a grown man, yes. But he was also a prince, with royal duties to attend to, and a pediatric surgeon, which was the calling he’d pursued since he was in college. Since it had become obvious that his brother, whose dearest dream was to become a doctor, would not survive to see that dream come to fruition.

  I’ve got a lot on my plate.

  Nic tried to reassure himself with that line of reasoning as he loaded up both his computer bag and the new diaper bag they’d purchased, tossing in a snack pack from the loaded fridge. He had Felix get the child seat in the Range Rover, instructing him to take them to the palace. His parents loved seeing Harry, after all. And if they didn’t mind keeping an eye on him, Nic could easily get some work done. Maybe even stop by the hospital, check on the child whose legs were bothering him.

  He was thinking that as he brought Harry to his parents’ suite. “Look who’s here,” he said, presenting Harry, who was making grunting noises of irritation until Nic put him down.

  “Harry,” his mother said, holding out her arms. With a peal of laughter, Harry ran towards her on chubby legs. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Summer had to take care of visa stuff, so she asked if I’d keep an eye on Harry,” Nic said. “The thing is, I’ve got a ton to do, and I know you two would keep him here forever if we let you, so maybe you could watch him instead?”

  His father, suited up for a long day of playing politics, walked out to pat Harry on the head fondly. But the look he shot his son was shrewd.

  “You know,” his mother murmured, “Summer asked if you could watch Harry. Not us.”

  “I know. But I thought…”

  “It’s a little daunting,” his father said. “But you’ll get the hang of it. The first time I had to watch you and…”

  There was a little hitch in his father’s voice, the slightest of breaks. Nic still felt it.

  “… and your brother,” his father continued calmly, “I thought I’d do it all wrong. And I could’ve just handed you over to the housekeeper to watch over. But I knew it was important to have a relationship with my children. It’s hard enough to be in a royal family, Nic. I didn’t want you to feel raised by servants, no matter how close they are to us. And my parents weren’t around to babysit.”

  Nic felt profoundly uncomfortable. “I’m not trying to shirk my duties here!”

  “Considering Tom’s illness, it was even harder,” his mother added softly.

  The simple words jarred Nic, causing that flutter of panic. The thought of Harry’s wail. The fear that had stabbed at him.

  “You know how much I’m committed to,” Nic said, knowing that his voice shouldn’t be quite so angry, but unable to help himself. “I’m the Crown Prince. And I’m head of pediatrics. I can’t just turn my back on my responsibilities!”

  “He’s your responsibility now.” His mother’s voice was stern. “Your most important one, even if you just found out about him. It’s not fair to him, to not put him first.”

  Nic felt the words like a slap.

  “Perhaps,” his father said, trying to soothe the tension, “you could reduce some of your workload. Your mother and I…”

  “I just need you to watch Harry for an hour or two,” Nic bit out. “Let me do some research, for God’s sake. Then I’ll do my duty. All right?”

  He knew that he shouldn’t have been so harsh, that he was being ridiculously immature. That still didn’t stop him from stomping down the hallway, to his childhood bedroom… still large, decorated in rich tones of sapphire and gold, with heavy furniture. He set up his laptop, then gave in to emotion and keeled over onto the bed, covering his face with a thick damask pillow so he didn’t scream or punch something.

  He wasn’t wrong: He had a lot to do, way too much to do. But neither were they. Harry needed to be his first priority. But he felt like, in the short time he’d had Harry, that he was already failing, and only making things worse. The fear that something bad might happen to Harry, especially on his watch…

  He forced himself to get up, go to his desk, and power up his computer. Work. He’d focus on the things he knew he was good at. The one place he didn’t fail. And if he wound up being a bad father for Harry…

  Maybe it would be better if Harry didn’t know him. The thought broke his heart, even as his logical mind knew it was a relevant, and possibly best, solution.

  Two hours and a now-cold cup of tea later, Nic was bleary-eyed in front of his computer screen. He’d created the slides to pitch full-time childcare as an essential benefit for their working doctors. It was a perk that few hospitals outside of Mynia offered, and those that did saw a lower turnover rate in their staff.

  He skimmed through the job listings from hospitals around the world that did offer it, as well as decent salaries and other competitive benefits. Not that benefits had ever been something he’d worried about, as Crown Prince of Mynia, but especially after seeing what Summer had to go through as a single mother, he was that much more aware of its importance. He knew that she’d had a tough time before coming here, but there were actually several listings that she’d probably be a perfect fit for, especially after the fellowship.

  He frowned. They were sleeping together again, both literally and metaphorically. They were working on getting more emotionally intimate, even as their physical intimacy ramped up. They shared Harry. But they hadn’t talked more about the future. Hadn’t talked about whether or not they wanted to get married—and considering his position, as soon as they announced they had a relationship and a child, the press and the country would be clamoring for a royal wedding. He didn’t want to subject her to that kind of pressure until they were absolutely sure.

  He grimaced, toying with the dregs of tea left in the bone china teacup. The problem was, he still wasn’t sure how he’d do as a husband and father. Not absolutely. How much worse would it be if he married her, exposed her and Harry to the public and the paparazzi and the pressure… only to fail miserably?

  He was ruminating on this as he saw a listing. It was for a hospital in California, in San Diego. Not Los Angeles, but it still had a nice beach, and he knew that Summer preferred sunshine and the ocean when given the option. The hospital was new, still building up its staff and reputation, but it offered a good salary and room for advancement. There was even childcare.

  It couldn’t be more perfectly tailored for Summer.

  I don’t want her to leave.

  I don’t want them to leave.

  What he wanted wasn’t necessarily what was best for them, though. With this in mind, he resolutely copied and pasted the information into a document, including the link, and put the doc in a folder on his computer’s desktop, labeling it “For Summer.” If it looked like they were going to split, he wanted to give her options.

  He only wanted what was best for her, and for their son.

  With that in mind, he stretched, then wandered to find Harry. He needed to apologize to his parents, too. He went into their sitting room, only to find Harry stretched out on the sofa, face flushed with sleep.

  “It was time for his nap,” his mother explained. “I already fed him lunch.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said slowly.

  “Your father had to go to a cabinet meeting. And I was supposed to be meeting with the Royal Historical Society, but I cancelled.”

  Guilt swamped him. “You’re right. He’s my responsibility, and I should be bonding with him.” Nic ran his hands over his face. “I screwed this up. I apologize.”

  His mother’s expression softened. “You always try so hard to do the right thing,” she said, walking across the room to give him a hug. “Someday, you’ll learn to give yourself a break.”

  He looked at Harry’s sleeping form. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do that. More importantly, he didn’t know how he could give himself a break without ruining things for Summer and Harry.

  13

  It turned out the little flush of pink on Harry’s cheeks during his nap at the palace was a sign of something more than sleepiness. He’d somehow managed to catch a little seasonal cold. Logically, empirically, Nic knew it was nothing serious. He was a doctor, for pity’s sake—he could tell the difference.

  With that in mind, he’d snapped into “medical professional” mode. Summer had taken a day off to take care of Harry the first day, and Nic had volunteered to take the following day off so Summer could continue with her fellowship and he could take care of their son. He’d spent the day dressing Harry lightly, encouraging him to drink watered-down fruit juice and to suck on popsicles that inevitably stained whatever clothes he was wearing, and Nic changing Harry’s diaper frequently. He’d even sponged him down after administering children’s fever reducer.

  It was probably the closest he’d been with Harry, watching cartoons about talking cars and puppies as Harry watched listlessly with fever-bright eyes, making the occasional little whimper of unhappiness.

  Logically, it was easy enough. His “patient” was sick. It wasn’t serious. He knew what to do.

  But internally, deep down… Nic was freaking out, and he knew it.

  What if it’s not something simple? What if it is something serious?

  Harry quickly improved, though, and by the third day, they told Alma she could come back and watch Harry as she normally did. But Nic still found himself leaving the cozy bed he shared with Summer in the middle of the night and creeping to Harry’s room, watching his son twitch, his eyes moving with deep dreaming behind his eyelids, his breathing deep and even.

  Nic had been doing it for a week now. On some level, he’d considered getting Harry up and getting him ready for the day. Just waking him, getting him cleaned up and changed, feeding him his breakfast. All the things that Summer did when Nic left early to go to the hospital. But today, just like every other day, he just stared at his peacefully sleeping son and thought of one thing.

  Tom.

  Nic wasn’t sure if it would be better if Harry didn’t resemble his dead brother so closely, but at this point, he doubted it could be worse.

  He stroked Harry’s hair. The boy squirmed a little, chuffing out a little sleepy noise, then kept on snoozing.

  In a weird, messed-up way… it was easier to deal with Harry when he was sick. When the stress and challenge of taking care of a medical problem pushed Nic into his usual laser focus. Now, with Harry better, there was just the amorphous hovering fear that there would be a time when Harry was sick for real, and there would be nothing Nic could do to stop it.

  Just like that, Nic’s heart clenched, and he retreated from Harry’s room. He headed to the kitchen, put the kettle on and made himself a ridiculously strong cup of tea.

  Summer’s fellowship was just another few months. He had to get it together. They needed to decide, one way or another, what was going to happen between the two of them. Between the three of them.

  He took a deep breath.

  They still had time, though, he consoled himself.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed it, grateful for the distraction. It was the hospital. He frowned, quickly answering it.

  “Dr. Hansen,” Sofia the hospital scheduler said, sounding frazzled. “I know that you’d called in sick this week, but… ah, we’re going to be short-staffed today, and I wanted to make sure…”

  “Yes, I will absolutely be in today,” he said quickly. “Is everything all right?”

  “Dr. Anker seems to have caught the summer cold that’s going around,” Sofia said. “And Dr. Gunst is still recovering. So there’s been a bit of a strain.”

  “Do you want me to work a double shift?” Nic volunteered immediately. “We’ve got plenty of patients, and I don’t want anybody to be shortchanged.”

  “That would be great.” Sofia’s relief was evident.

  “All right. I’ll head in early, and we’ll make sure everything’s covered. Don’t worry.”

  Nic hung up, feeling more centered, more in control. He finished his tea, then went upstairs. He ought to let Summer know his plans.

  In the faint sunlight creeping under the curtains, Summer looked peaceful, her tumble of blonde curls covering her pillow, her pointed chin jutting up, her arms spread out as if reaching for him in sleep. Part of him instantly regretted his decision to go into the hospital early—the part of him that was quickly hardening at the sight of Summer’s sun-kissed skin—but part of him wanted her to stay like this, comfortably tucked into his bed, dreaming and happy.