In the Royal's Bed: Wanted: Royal Wife and Mother

‘And the wee one…’

‘He’s Kelly’s son,’ Rafael said, for there was no use dissembling here. ‘The Crown Prince of Alp de Ciel.’

Pete gave a long, low whistle. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Our Kelly, royalty. We always knew there was something…’ But then he returned to what had obviously been gnawing at him. ‘She’s upset. Anyone can see she’s upset.’

‘It’s been a harrowing day for her.’

‘You’ll be taking her back to…where…Alp de Wotsit?’

‘She’s agreed to go, yes.’

‘Then I’ll say something to you now, boy,’ the old man growled and, dress sword or not, Rafael found himself backed against the wall with the old man’s gnarled finger poking him in the midriff. ‘You take care of her. She’s gone through the mill, that one. Oh, we’re not supposed to know, but there’s not many of the staff here don’t know that she lost her kiddy. We thought maybe he’d died. She’s wanted to be anonymous, she hasn’t wanted to talk about it, and we’ve respected that. We’d keep her secret for as long as she wants. But this place is almost family. She might not have a mum and dad but she has all of us and if she’s mistreated we’ll…we’ll…’

‘Send the dragoons?’ Rafael asked faintly, and the old man relented a little and gave a crooked smile.

‘Yeah, well, the troops we have here may only be make-believe but we can surely make a fuss. So watch it. Watch her.’

‘She’ll be okay.’

‘You guarantee it, sir?’

Now there was an ask. What was he letting himself into? As Prince Regent he was responsible for the well-being of the Crown Prince. Now he was being asked to make guarantees about Kelly.

But Pete was waiting, and behind the belligerence was anxiety. He was genuinely fond of her, Rafael thought. He was genuinely anxious.

So once again he promised. ‘I guarantee she’ll be okay.’

‘You’ll watch over her.’

And stay permanently in Alp de Ciel? With or without Anna? With or without his business?

Anna would kill him. To make such a decision without talking it through with her… But the decision was made.

‘I’ll watch over her,’ he said weakly, and thought, Anna without Fifth Avenue? Without pastrami on rye? His business without Anna?

‘I’ll watch over her,’ he promised again and he was allowed to leave.

But the pressure of Pete’s finger in his chest stayed with him. Pressure… Hell!

* * *

He’d kissed her.

How had that happened? Why? Kelly watched Rafael disappear down the main street towards the exit, then started to get ready for bed. She undressed by the fire, thinking that she didn’t want to get undressed in her bedroom yet. Matty was too much a stranger. Her little boy…

It was set. She was going back to Alp de Ciel to take her place as mother of the Crown Prince.

Rafael had kissed her.

She raised a finger to her lips. They still felt bruised, which was crazy. He hadn’t kissed her hard enough to bruise.

But she could still feel where he’d kissed her.

She tugged her nightgown on, then sank into the rocker by the stove, flipped open the fire door and watched the flames. To leave here…

The thought was terrifying.

She had to leave on Tuesday.

There was no choice. She’d known that the moment she’d set eyes on Matty. No matter what she had to do, now she’d seen her son again she would move heaven and earth rather than endure further separation.

Rafael had kissed her.

‘And that was stupid,’ she told herself fiercely. ‘That’s enough of that. You’ve let no man touch you since Kass and you’d be crazy to break that rule now. And with a de Boutaine? No and no and no.’

On impulse she crossed to her desk and booted her computer. Her nineteenth-century cottage boasted wireless Internet—hooray. She typed in Rafael’s name and waited.

There was too much to take in. It was mostly about his work, his toys, awards he’d won, speeches he’d given. He ran some youth apprentice training scheme—very worthy.

She was becoming cynical in her old age, she thought ruefully, and then decided she’d had enough of reading about him.

She clicked on Google Images.

The first one that appeared was at a gala charity event in New York. There was Rafael, looking impossibly handsome in a magnificently cut, deep black dinner suit and a classy white silk scarf.

And on his arm was a stunner—a woman whose legs almost seemed to reach her armpits. She was a magnificent, classy blonde and she was clinging to Rafael’s arm and smiling possessively at him as he smiled at the camera.

The caption read ‘Rafael de Boutaine and his partner, Anna Louise St Clair.’

‘Well, there you go, then,’ she muttered to herself. ‘He has a partner.’

He’d said he wasn’t married or engaged.

He had a partner.

For someone completely disinterested, there was no way of explaining the sudden lurch of loss she felt in the pit of her stomach.

‘It’s only that he’d suit my purpose better if he’s a real bachelor,’ she told herself. ‘He’d get more media attention.’

And then she looked again at Anna and thought, Nope, gaining media attention was never going to be a problem for these two. The pair would be the ruling couple of Alp de Ciel.

‘Which is what you want,’ she said fiercely, slamming down the lid of her computer. ‘How dumb are you to ask if he’s married or engaged?’ she demanded of herself as she headed for bed. ‘How quaint. It’s just as well I’m a historian because that’s what I feel like.’ She stopped herself from tossing a pillow at the wall just in time. For Matty was sleeping. Her Matty. Who this was all about.

‘So it’ll suit our purpose,’ she told her sleeping son, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘It’s just that he kissed me, Matty. How crazy’s that? And I let him. I must be going out of my mind.’

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_2bb72088-ddde-5a4a-84d9-2e885a549efd)

WAS there ever any doubt she’d go with him? Whether Rafael had a partner or not was immaterial. Matty belonged in Alp de Ciel. Matty was her son.