Sally Carleen - The Prince's Heir

“Then you agree that the boy should be returned to his family.” Even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren’t true.

She arched an eyebrow. “But you didn’t do any of those things I’d expected and feared. You didn’t show any interest in Joshua because he’s your nephew and a neat little kid. Your only interest is in your stupid country. You have no heart, no emotions. You’re exactly the way Lawrence described the rest of his family. You’re a part of the reason he didn’t want the son he loved to return there and be as lonely and miserable as your family made him.”

She slid her chair back and stood, then leaned over the table and for one wild, heart-pounding moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead she grabbed his tie by the knot and drew him closer. Her face was mere inches from his, and he could see a dusting of golden freckles that her makeup didn’t quite hide across her nose, could feel her breath warm and sweet, but mostly he could see the flames that blazed in her eyes. “You go on back to that country and take over the throne as next in line of succession, produce cold-hearted, unfeeling sons who can carry on the family tradition, but don’t you even think about trying to take Joshua with you or I’ll teach you the meaning of the term Texas wildcat, and I’m not talking about anything to do with oil!”

She released her grip on his tie, whirled around and strode out the back door, slamming it behind her. “Would you like another glass of tea, Mr. Reynard?” Rita asked.

Stephan blinked then suppressed an insane urge to laugh. Her daughter had made an impassioned speech, threatened him with the wrath of a Texas wildcat and left. Even so, Rita Crawford observed the social amenities. Perhaps Texas and Castile weren’t so different after all.

“No, thank you,” he said and rose from the table. “I must be leaving now. I know this has been a big shock for all of you. Here’s the number of the hotel I’m staying at in Dallas. When you’ve had a chance to assimilate everything, please call me there.”

Vera Crawford nodded. “We will, Mr. Reynard.”

Stephan considered setting a time limit for them to call, warning them that if he didn’t hear from them in three days, he’d contact them again.

But that was unnecessary. They’d call. They were honorable people.

He hadn’t been prepared to like this family, but he did.

Mandy was wrong when she’d labeled him unfeeling. In the short time he’d been with her, she’d caused him to feel many things—respect, amusement, admiration and, last but not least, desire in the age-old way in which a man desires a woman. Royalty was not always free to indulge such desire, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

He, like Mandy’s mother, realized the value of observing the amenities, of refusing to indulge emotions and let them influence one’s life. As a member of the royal family—the future king, unless Joshua’s claim to the throne could be validated—he could never afford that indulgence.

Yet as he stood and said goodbye to the Crawfords, and everyone smiled and mouthed the proper pleasantries, he had a very emotional feeling that before this was over, Mandy, with her fiery hair and blazing eyes, her porcelain skin brushed by freckles and her passion for everything, was going to test the limits of his restraint.

Chapter Two

Mandy leaned against the side of the house, half-hidden by a crepe myrtle bush, shaking in fear and anger as she watched Stephan’s rental car drive away. How was it possible that her whole world could have changed so much in less than an hour?

Though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. The last few years had been constant upheaval... leaving her small hometown, Willoughby, for college in Dallas, fifty miles away, renewing her friendship with Alena, then her grandfather’s death three years ago followed closely by Alena’s death, adopting Josh and moving back to Willoughby. She’d thought she could regain stability by returning to the small town and the family she’d once wanted to leave. And she had regained that stability for a while. She’d traded in her MBA to teach first-grade children, some belonging to her former classmates.

Except for her grandfather and her best friend being gone, the time since she’d come back had been like a return to her childhood when she was surrounded by love and everything was secure and unchanging. She’d been given a second chance, and this time she truly appreciated what she had. This time she was holding on with both hands and not about to let it get away from her.

Only a few hours ago she’d left to do her morning of volunteer work at the library, confident that things would be the same when she returned. Then she’d come back and walked into the home where she’d lived since she was a child, where she’d always felt safe, into the kitchen where she’d eaten breakfast that very morning with the people she loved.

But in that kitchen, sitting at that same table, she’d seen Stephan Reynard.

And she had a horrible feeling that her life would never be the same no matter how tightly she tried to hold on to the status quo.

The worst thing wasn’t even that he wanted to take Josh. That was unthinkable, of course, but even worse was that she was inexplicably, insanely attracted to the man who wanted to steal her son, the brother of the man who’d caused her best friend’s death.

For some reason she’d never be able to understand, her hormones had turned on her and focused their attention on this enigmatic man who was the antithesis of everything she wanted out of life. He had wealth and power and that always spelled heartache. If she needed any confirmation of that fact of life... and she didn’t...all she had to do was look at Alena’s life, especially after she became involved with this man’s brother.

Stephan Reynard was from another country. Not just another city an hour’s drive away, but a completely different country, thousands of miles away in distance and lifestyle.

And he was the enemy, the man who thought that country had a claim on her son, who wanted to yank him away from her and from the life she’d so carefully constructed for him.

Yet as much as she feared Stephan and hated him, just as much was she drawn to him. There was something about him, some banked fire in his eyes, something predatory about the way he moved, something primitive buried beneath the layers of civilization and conservative clothing that reached to a part of her she hadn’t even known existed before...and really didn’t want to know about now.

When he’d callously announced Lawrence’s death, she’d been completely disconcerted, not only because she’d liked Lawrence and had been shocked at the news, but also because that meant Stephan had a legitimate reason to take her son. The room had started to spin about her. Stephan must have spotted her weakness, and he’d rushed over to her. For one insane instant she’d wanted to collapse into those arms and be held against that wide chest, to free those uncivilized urges she somehow knew he possessed.

Fortunately she’d recovered her good sense before doing anything that stupid and had not, she hoped, given him any sign of her absurd reaction.

When she’d grabbed him by that ridiculous tie and invaded his space to issue her warning, she’d been fighting dual urges to use that tie to choke him or to pull his lips to hers. Even now she could remember the sizzle that had seemed to pass from his body to hers, though they hadn’t actually touched physically. Even now his elusive scent that was both foreign and familiar, civilized and wild, tantalized her memory.

She snapped a leaf off the bush beside her and crumpled it in her fingers. Her hormones must have gone into overdrive, focusing on the first attractive man they spotted, causing her to attribute to that man all sorts of traits that he didn’t possess. Stephan Reynard was a stuffy, snobbish, arrogant prince who wanted to take her son.