Princess From the Shadows

“Paella del mar,” he said. “I hope you like shellfish.”

“It would be sacrilege if I didn’t. Santina is a part of the sea. It’s the life force of the country.”

“As it is here in Santa Christobel. That, at least, should be similar to your home.”

She looked down at the rice and pushed the shell of a muscle with the tip of her fork. “Santina hasn’t been my home for a long time. How will your people feel about this?”

“About what?”

“You marrying a woman who has a child. Clearly, I’m not your standard-issue virgin princess.”

“I doubt my people are under the illusion I have any desire for a virgin princess. I’m certainly not a virgin, neither do I pretend to be one.”

For some reason, his immediate dismissal of the idea gave her a strange rush of pleasure. She shouldn’t care whether he approved of her or not, and yet, for some reason, it satisfied her to know that he hadn’t really expected, or cared, if his bride were pure as the driven snow.

“What you desire, and what’s expected, are two very different things.”

“I assume you’re an expert?”

“I can claim a bit of experience in the area, yes,” she said. She really didn’t want the conversation to go in that direction. Someday, maybe. But not now. She was fairly certain her brothers didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding Luca’s birth. She wasn’t really eager to spread it around. “I’m just not certain what your people will make of you taking a single mother as your bride.”

“I didn’t ask them,” he said simply, taking a bite of paella.

“That simple?”

“I am to be their king.”

“But there are appearances to worry about and … appearances.” Appearance was of the upmost importance to her father. Her mother and father conducted themselves with an old-world grace. They maintained an aristocratic distance from their people, and from the press, that was rare in the modern era. At least, they had. Until she had shattered some of that respectability with a very high-profile, undeniable mistake.

She knew her father might have forgiven her for her mistakes, but he’d never forgotten them. She’d never forgiven herself for it. And here Rodriguez was talking as though appearances didn’t matter?

“Do you honestly think I care about the way the media sees me? The way the people see me? I have done well for them, and while my father has been fading from this world I have already been seeing to the duties of the king. I will continue to do well for them, to make the country prosper. I will marry and I will continue the line. No more can be asked of me.”

“Just because you … said so?”

“Yes, just because I said so.”

“And you’ll adopt Luca.”

“I will give him my name, as I said I would. I keep my word, princesa.”

“I don’t have a great track record with men and their word,” she said, regretting the words as soon as she spoke them.

“On this you can trust me, Carlotta,” he said, his voice low, sincere, the mocking edge to his lips gone. “I don’t play with people. Power is one of those things that can make a man feel invincible. It can make him feel as though he’s entitled to harm those he sees as beneath him. I am everything that the press says I am. The stories are all true. So yes, I have some sins to my credit. But I don’t hurt people. I don’t lie.”

Carlotta looked at him, at his dark eyes, and she felt her heart rate speed up. “I believe you.”

CHAPTER THREE

“MY JEWELER will be arriving later.”

Carlotta looked up from the drawing Luca had just handed her and nearly choked as she watched Rodriguez walk into the playroom. The staff had spent the afternoon furnishing and arranging everything. Now Luca was fully equipped with a new bed for his room, a small table and chairs, where he was currently sitting, coloring, and a matching, hand-carved toy box for his most prized possessions. Although his favorite stuffed owls held pride of place on a shelf by his bed.

“What jeweler? What for?” she asked, the answer landing about the time the words left her mouth.

“For your ring.”

She looked back down at the paper. “Right.”

Luca turned in his chair. “Hi.”

Rodriguez attempted a smile, his jaw tightening. “Hi, Luca.”

“Why do I need to see the jeweler?”

He lifted one dark brow, his focus shifting back to her. “So you can choose the ring.”

“Well, I don’t see why I really need to choose it.”

“Do you have a crown?” Luca asked, his green eyes still fixed on Rodriguez.

Rodriguez looked back at Luca, a flash of discomfort crossing his handsome face. “There is a crown. One that has been in the Anguiano family for a long time. But I don’t wear it.”

“I would,” Luca said, turning back to his drawing.

Rodriguez’s brows locked together. “What were you saying?” he asked, his dark eyes not leaving Luca.

“I don’t see why I need to choose the ring.” Carlotta bent and set the picture down on the table, then straightened. “I mean, it’s a ring.”

“Your engagement and wedding ring.”

“Yes, but it isn’t as though …” She looked down at Luca and frowned. “Luca, I’m going to go talk to Rodriguez for a moment.”

Luca looked up. “But I’m going to color.”

“That’s fine, just stay at the table. Color on the paper only. Out here.” She stepped out into the corridor and Rodriguez followed, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.

“You don’t seem to be distracted by Luca’s interjections,” he said.

“He’s a kid. He does that.”

“I would not have been permitted to do that.”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “And you don’t think he should be allowed to?”

“There is very little from my childhood I would use as a model when raising a son. I don’t mind his comments. I’m just not used to it.”

“Oh.” She relaxed her stance. “I was saying it’s not like our marriage has a whole lot of significance. You intend to do as you please. It isn’t as though the ring will have any real value to me.”