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

‘Matty thinks his place is here,’ she said cautiously and he nodded.

‘Yeah. How to give a man a guilty conscience…’ He swigged his beer from the bottle and watched her make a sandwich.

‘So where’s Anna?’ she asked.

‘Gone.’

‘Already?’

‘I’m guessing she thinks she might get stuck if she stays any longer,’ he said. ‘She came under protest, to make sure the more delicate bits of equipment were treated with respect. She hates that I’m staying. She gave me a blast and a half and then she retreated. She wants me to go back to Manhattan to talk to the kids.’

‘And will you?’

‘Not until after the coronation,’ he said morosely. ‘And even then…there’s a vast amount to do here. Sure, I don’t want to care. I think I’m forced to. I don’t have an attic.’

‘Don’t give me a hard time,’ she growled. ‘And, by the way, don’t try kissing me again.’

‘That was a mistake,’ he agreed gravely.

‘It certainly was.’

He watched her, considering. ‘You didn’t like it just a little bit?’

‘No.’

His eyes creased at the corners, with just the faintest hint of lurking laughter. ‘Liar.’

‘I fell in love with Kass,’ she reminded him. ‘One de Boutaine in a lifetime is enough.’

It took the teasing right away from his eyes. The laughter disappeared.

‘You kissed me because I look like Kass?’

‘Why else would I kiss you?’

‘Right,’ he said flatly. ‘Right.’

‘And you kissed me because?’ She shouldn’t ask, she thought, but the question had just sort of popped out before she could stop it.

‘God knows,’ he said bluntly. He shrugged. ‘God knows why I want to kiss you again now.’

‘You want to kiss me again now?’ Her voice broke on a squeak.

‘I do,’ he conceded. ‘Maybe it’s because I find your sweater almost irresistibly sexy.’

She looked down at her shapeless wool smock and she winced. It really was dreadful. She’d bought it mid-winter at a clearance sale and wore it for comfort. It was almost as old as Matty. Until now, she’d never worn it out of doors.

Once it had been crimson but it had faded with constant washing so now was a dreary pink. There was a moth hole in the bottom hem. She’d worried it a bit and the hole had extended.

‘Who knows what would happen if I ever saw you in lingerie,’ Rafael said bluntly. ‘Though, by the look of that sweater, I can only imagine what your lingerie’s like.’ He shook his head, set his beer bottle aside and rose. ‘A man could go hot and cold just thinking about it. I think I need to go and take a cold shower. If you’ll excuse me…’

‘So there’ll be no more kissing?’ she whispered before she could stop herself and thought frantically, Why did I do that? It was as if she was pushing to extend the conversation. Which surely she wasn’t.

She hadn’t.

‘If you’re kissing me back because I look like Kass, what do you think?’ he said heavily and left her to her sandwich.

It was the pattern of their days. Working on their private projects. Avoiding each other.

In a way it was the ideal method of getting to know her son, Kelly thought as the days progressed. Matty had his own life mapped out in this castle. Up until now he hadn’t had a mother and hadn’t really seen the need for one. To have her thrust upon him, demanding a part of his life, would be likely to overwhelm him.

But Matty loved the idea that he had a mother. He was disappointed that she didn’t seem interested in his passion—which was definitely horses—but the rest… He took to including her rooms as part of his domain. He followed the routine set down before his father had died—rigid meal times, introductory school work, working with Crater—but in between he’d hurry up to his mother’s rooms to report the latest news, to make her feel included.

He was a gracious, loving little boy, Kelly thought. She was blessed. And when, at the end of the first week, he announced that Marguerite had sore legs and she couldn’t go very far and would Mama like to come with him instead on his afternoon walks, Kelly thought this was as good as it got.

She had her son again. She didn’t have to include herself any more than occasionally in the life of the castle.

She could swallow guilt about the load Rafael was carrying. He was still a de Boutaine, and the way he made her feel scared her witless. She was right to stay aloof.

But, ‘Why don’t you like my Uncle Rafael?’ Matty asked as he skipped ahead through the fabulous woodland around the castle and she thought, uh-oh, had it been as obvious as that?

‘I don’t not like him.’

‘You haven’t even seen his dungeon.’

‘He hasn’t asked me.’

‘Yes, he did. He asked you to see it on the day all his tools arrived and you didn’t say anything. It’s really cool down there. You should see the things he’s making. He’s working on a new base at the moment that will fit spaceships. He says I can have the pro…prot…protype.’

‘Prototype?’

‘Yes,’ Matty said in satisfaction. ‘Will you come and see it?’

‘I think your Uncle Rafael is too busy for visitors.’

‘That’s silly,’ Matty said and tucked his hand confidingly into hers. ‘I want to show you the… prototype. Can you come and see when we get back from the walk?’

There was a cost, she thought. She’d accepted Matty’s invitation to walk with him with pleasure. How could she make the boundaries clear when she kept crossing them?

He was looking up at her, anxious, sensing that things weren’t right. ‘My Uncle Rafael is very kind,’ he said, as if he felt the need to reassure her.

‘I’m sure he is.’

‘He might even make you something.’

‘He makes things for children.’

‘And for big kids too,’ Matty said. ‘Aunt Laura and I read about Robo-Craft on the Internet. It says it’s for kids from five to a hundred and five. How old are you?’