Scandal With a Prince (10 page)

“I can’t know that she’s happy, Megan.
 
Hell, I don’t even have a clue what she looks like.”
 
He glanced toward the new diners, who were being seated only a few tables away, then straightened slightly in his chair.
 
Careful to keep their conversation discreet, he said, “Look, what’s done is done.
 
No matter what the circumstances, whatever the reason Dagmar failed to inform me of your calls—something I plan to investigate, by the way—all we can do is move forward.
 
That’s why I needed space last night, to come to terms with this and think of how best to move forward.
 
That means getting to know Anna.
 
You said no last night, but I think it’s important that I meet her as soon as possible.”

“I don’t know if this is the best time for her.”
 
Everything was happening too fast.
 
After years on their own, suddenly there would be another voice—a strong, male, and royal voice—in their lives.
 
Perhaps for a weekend, perhaps on a regular basis, but either way, it would be a drastic change.

“If not now, then when?
 
It won’t get easier for any of us.”
 
He paused.
 
“Does she know about me?”

Megan gave a slight nod.

His lower lip flinched in surprise.
 
“Does she know I’m here in Barcelona?”

When Megan shook her head, Stefano exhaled.
 
“What
have
you told her?”

Between sips of her coffee and bites of omelet, Megan explained briefly how Anna learned of her parentage.
 
“It’s not that I don’t want you to meet her.
 
I do.
 
But knowing on a cerebral level that you’re her father and having you physically show up in her life are entirely different things.
 
Before I introduce you, I need to prepare her.”

She couldn’t believe she’d agreed so easily, and before talking to Anna, but how could Megan object when Stefano’s request seemed so reasonable?
 

“All right,” he said.
 
“Talk to her tonight.
 
We can have lunch tomorrow and keep it relaxed and informal.
 
I don’t want Anna to be frightened or uncomfortable.”

“Tomorrow?”
 
Megan swallowed hard.
 
When he said as soon as possible, he meant it.

“I assume her wonderful school doesn’t hold class on Sundays?”
 
He flashed a wry grin, then popped the last bite of toast in his mouth.
 
“I’m already in town.
 
Staying a day or two longer won’t raise any questions.
 
My family and staff will assume I decided to extend the business trip through the weekend to visit with Ilsa.
 
It wouldn’t be unusual for me to arrange to see her or some of my other friends while I’m here.
 
However, if I return to Sarcaccia and then make an unscheduled trip back to Barcelona, my family and staff will ask why.
 
For the time being, I prefer we keep this to ourselves.”

“Ilsa?”
 
Was she supposed to know an Ilsa?

“I’m sorry.
 
I assumed you were introduced at some point last night.
 
Ilsa Jakobsen was the woman with me on the roof.
 
You may have seen her in the bar when Mahmoud brought you over.
 
Tall woman, red dress, hard to miss.”

“Oh, yes.
 
I remember her.”
 
Hard to miss
was a colossal understatement.
 
Six-foot beacon of sexuality
would be a more apt description.

“Ilsa is my sister’s best friend.
 
Her date for last night’s party was, shall we say, overly focused on the cocktail portion of the evening.
 
I stayed close to her to ensure he wouldn’t behave in a manner he’d later regret.
 
Ilsa’s like a younger sister to me.
 
Family.”
 
He picked up his coffee cup.
 
Seeing that it was empty, he set it back on its saucer.
 
“In any event, I believe discretion is paramount and having friends like Ilsa in Barcelona provides a convenient excuse for me to stay.”

The knot of tension that had twisted Megan’s gut eased slightly.
 
She wanted to attribute her relief entirely to Stefano’s willingness to keep a meeting low-key and his desire to shield Anna from the public eye.
 
However, a not-so-small part of her thrilled to learn he had zero romantic interest in the stunning brunette from the previous night.
 
Knowing Stefano had watched over Ilsa because he worried for her safety reinforced Megan’s opinion that the Stefano seated across the table from her now wasn’t so different from the Stefano she’d met in Venezuela.
 
Protective, sensitive, caring.
 

Truly, a prince.

“It feels odd talking about Anna when I don’t even know what she looks like.”
 
Stefano’s voice was quiet enough she had a hard time hearing him now that there were people chatting only a few tables away.
 
“If I may ask…do you have a photo of her?”

The gentleness of the request tugged at her heartstrings.
 
She supposed if they were going to meet tomorrow, showing him a photo today was the least she could do.
 
“I don’t think anyone would find it unusual if I handed you my phone during our meeting, do you?”
 

When he shook his head, she fished the phone from her bag, tapped the screen to bring up the pictures, then handed it to Stefano, trying to ignore the heat of his fingers as they brushed hers.
 

At his intake of breath, Megan smiled.
 
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?
 
Her hair isn’t quite as dark as yours, but it has your texture, very wavy and thick.
 
And she has your eyes.
 
Not just the color or the ring around the iris, but there’s that same hint of mischievousness constantly lurking there.
 
I have to watch it with her.”

Stefano’s attention remained riveted on the screen.
 
“Is this recent?”

“Day before yesterday.”
 
She’d snapped it while Anna had been sitting at the kitchen counter showing off a batch of brownies she’d made with her grandparents.
 
The late-afternoon sunlight streamed in through the suite’s windows and hit Anna so perfectly Megan had pulled out her phone to capture the moment.
 

“I have a daughter.”
 
A mix of astonishment and joy tinged his words, as if he hadn’t quite believed until that moment that Anna was real, and that she was his.
 
He stared at the screen for a few more seconds before asking if he could look at the other pictures on the phone.
 
As he flipped through them, smiling at some, carefully studying others, he asked, “Has she missed having a father?
 
Or is there someone else who’s been a male role model for her?”

The question left Stefano’s mouth in a casual manner, but Megan wasn’t fooled; he’d carefully considered it.
 
Was his real concern for Anna and the influences she might have had over the last few years?
 
Or was he attempting to determine whether Megan had any serious relationships in the last decade?
 
Megan considered her answer just as carefully.
 
“Anna saw a lot of my parents while I finished graduate school and worked at my first job in Minneapolis.
 
She still sees them often and is quite close to my father.”
 

“That’s good.”
 
Stefano’s gaze remained fixed on the phone.
 
What Megan saw in his clouded expression revealed more than words could ever say.

“All these questions aren’t really about Anna’s upbringing, are they?” she asked softly.
 
“You might not have seen me in years, but you knew me well enough then to believe that I’m a good parent.
 
This is about you.”

That drew his attention from the phone.
 
“How so?”

“You feel cheated.
 
You’ve missed out on her life, so now you want something to pick apart—her schooling, where she lives, whether or not she has a male role model—to feel as if you have something of value to contribute to her upbringing.
 
Maybe to feel as if you haven’t suffered a loss by not knowing her.”
 
His expression remained stoic as she spoke, making Megan more certain of herself with each word.
 
She reached across the table to put her hand over his.
 
“It’s all right.
 
It’s human nature.”

Stefano didn’t respond.
 
Instead, he slid the phone from his hand into Megan’s, then shifted his gaze to indicate that their waiter was crossing the restaurant, heading for their table.

She pulled back and returned the phone to her handbag before picking up her fork to polish off the last few bites of her omelet as if they’d been discussing nothing more than the weather.
 
As the waiter collected their plates and Megan signed for the meal, a large group of diners that included several high-profile guests who’d attended last night’s event appeared at the entrance to the restaurant.
 
No doubt they would ask to be seated close to the prince if they spotted him, which meant little time remained to discuss Anna.

Once they thanked the waiter and he returned to the kitchen, Stefano placed his folded napkin on the table and looked at Megan, his features unreadable.
 
Instead of addressing her theory, he asked when he could speak with her next.

“I’m not sure.
 
I need to talk to Anna first.
 
Will you be staying at the hotel again tonight?”
 

“I’ve already extended my reservation.”
 
He circled the table, his movements smooth and controlled, to pull out her chair for her.
 
Once she’d stood, he took the folio from the table.
 
In a businesslike voice just loud enough for nearby diners to hear, he thanked her for the information on the hotel’s facilities.
 
He finished with, “I believe your business card is enclosed if I’d like to get in touch about booking a private event?”

At her nod, he angled his head so only she could see his lips and mouthed, “Tomorrow, then.
 
Lunch.”

Chapter Eight

She was right, damn it.

He’d entered the restaurant ready to launch an all-out assault, but within seconds Megan had completely disarmed him.
 
The body-hugging dress that made her glow, the sweet smile as she’d watched the street performer, unaware that she herself was being watched, the open expression that said Stefano could ask her anything he wanted and expect an honest answer…she’d left him absolutely nothing to attack.
 
And when she’d responded to his pointed questions with the observation that Stefano felt cheated, that he wanted to know he could contribute something to Anna’s life, a life nearly ten years gone already, he’d pinpointed his deepest fear, realizing it before he’d done so himself.
 
Her point was reinforced by the ebullient girl smiling at him from the screen of Megan’s phone, holding out a plate of brownies with obvious pride at having baked them herself.
 
His chest had constricted so powerfully at the sight of those large green eyes and flushed cheeks it was as if the air left not only his lungs, but the entire room.

He not only had a child, he had a child who didn’t know him or need him.
 
Apparently the mother of that child didn’t need him either.
 

He leaned against the sofa cushions and stared out the windows of his hotel suite, unseeing.
   
Anna was healthy and happy, unlike so many of the children he met during his years of public service.
 
He’d never forget the faces of those kids, particularly one little boy with whom he’d played cards during a hospital visit when he was only a child himself.
 
The boy died only days later, leaving Stefano shaken, but thankful for his own health and the health of his siblings.

He should be grateful to know Anna enjoyed what seemed to be an idyllic childhood.

Rather than feeling relief, it galled him that Megan could see things about him he couldn’t always see for himself.
 
At the same time, her simple observation made him want her all the more.
 
He put his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes against the conflicting emotions, attempting to process what had happened over breakfast.

Just twenty-four hours ago, he assumed he’d be spending this moment aboard his family’s airplane, high amongst the clouds on the short flight to Sarcaccia.
 
He’d planned to use the time to prepare notes for his upcoming meeting with the head of Sarcaccia’s transportation department, making it clear which projects he felt needed immediate funding in order to draw more tourism to the island nation.
 
Tourists didn’t like renting cars, he’d argued more than once, and they would skip Sarcaccia in favor of other Mediterranean vacation spots if they were compelled to deal with both the cost and logistics of renting a vehicle.
 
With enough tourists pouring money into the island, the updates to the current mass transit system would eventually pay for themselves.
 
And the improvements wouldn’t simply benefit those locals who made their living from tourism.
 
The entire population would profit.
 
The system upgrades would provide employment for several hundred engineers and construction workers in the short term.
 
Then, once the upgrades were complete, it would allow for the opening of his country’s new conference center, providing even more employment.
 
Daily commuters would have more choices, roadway traffic would flow more smoothly, and parking wouldn’t be such a hassle on the narrow, cobblestoned streets of Sarcaccia’s congested city centers.