The Maverick Prince (14 page)

He had Shannon back in his bed and in his life and he intended to do anything it took to keep her there. The chemistry between them, the connection—it was one of a kind. The way she’d calmly handled his bizarre family set-up, keeping her down-to-earth ways in the face of so much wealth… Finally, he’d found a woman he could trust, a woman he could spend his life with. Coming back to the island had been a good thing after all, since it had made him realize how unaffected she was by the trappings. In a compass, she would be the magnet, a grounding center.

And he owed her so much better than he’d delivered thus far. He’d wrecked Shannon’s life. It was up to him to fix it. Here, alone with her in the bright light of day, he couldn’t avoid the truth.

They would get married.

The decision settled inside him with a clean fit, so much so he wondered why he hadn’t decided so resolutely before now. His feelings for her ran deep. He knew she cared for him, too. And marrying each other would solve her problems.

They were making progress. He could tell she’d been swayed by the flowers, the ambience.

A plan formed in his mind. Later tonight he would take her to the chapel, lit with candles, and he would propose, while the lovemaking they’d shared here was still fresh in her memory.

Now he just had to figure out the best way to persuade her to say yes.

Thumbing the off button, she disconnected her call. “The nanny says Kolby has only just woken up and she’s feeding him a snack.” She passed his phone to him and curled against his side on the chaise. “Thanks for not teasing me about being overprotective. I can’t help but worry when I’m not with him.”

“I would too, if he was mine,” he said. Then her surprised expression prompted him to continue, “Why do you look shocked?”

“No offense meant.” She smoothed a hand along his chest. “It’s just obvious you and he haven’t connected.”

Something he would need to rectify in order to be a part of Shannon’s life. “I will never let you or him down the way his father did.”

She winced and he could feel her drawing back into herself. He wanted all barriers gone between them as fully as they’d tossed aside their clothes.

“Hey, Shannon, stay with me here.” He cupped her bare hip. “I asked you before if your husband hit you and you said no. Did you lie about that?”

Sitting up abruptly, she gathered her swimsuit off the floor.

“Let’s get dressed and then we can talk.” She yanked on the suit bottom briskly.

Waiting, he slid on his board shorts. She tied the bikini strings behind her neck with exaggerated effort, all the while staring at the floor. A curtain of tousled blond locks covered her face. Just when he’d begun to give up on getting an answer, she straightened, shaking her hair back over her shoulders.

“I was telling the truth when I said Nolan never laid a hand on me. But there are things I need to explain in order for you to understand why it’s so difficult for me to accept help.” Determination creased her face. “Nolan was always a driven man. His perfectionism made him successful in business. And I’d been brought up to believe marriage is forever. How could I leave a man because he didn’t like the way I hung clothes in the closet?”

He forced his hands to stay loose on his knees, keeping his body language as unthreatening as possible when he already sensed he would want to beat the hell out of Nolan Crawford by the end of this conversation—if he wasn’t already dead.

Plucking a flower petal from her hair, she rubbed the coral-colored patch between two fingers. “Do you know how many people laughed at me because I was upset that he didn’t want me to work? He said he wanted us to have more time together. Somehow any plans I made with others were disrupted. After a while I lost contact with my friends.”

The picture of isolation came together in his head with startling clarity. He understood the claustrophobic feeling of being cut off from the rest of the world. Although he couldn’t help but think his father’s need to protect his children differed from an obsessive—abusive—husband dominating his wife. Rage simmered, ready to boil.

She scooped her cover-up from the floor and clutched it to her stomach. “Then I got pregnant. Splitting up became more complicated.”

Hating like hell the helpless feeling, he passed her glasses back to her. It was damn little, but all he could see her accepting from him right now.

With a wobbly smile, she slid them on her face and seemed to take strength from them. “When Kolby was about thirteen months old, he spiked a scary high fever while I was alone with him. Nolan had always gone with us to pediatric check-ups. At the ER, I was a mess trying to give the insurance information. I had no idea what to tell them, because Nolan had insisted I not ‘worry’ about such things as medical finances. That day triggered something in me. I needed to take care of my son.”

He took her too-cold hand and rubbed it between his.

“Looking back now I see the signs were there. Nolan’s computer and cell phone were password protected. He considered it an invasion of privacy if I asked who he was speaking to. I thought he was cheating. I never considered…”

He squeezed her hand in silent encouragement.

“So I decided to learn more about the finances, because if I needed to leave him, I had to make sure my son’s future was protected and not spirited away to some Cayman account.” She fidgeted, her fingers landing on the blue salvia—
I think of you often
took on a darker meaning. “I was lucky enough to figure out his computer password.”

“
You
discovered the Ponzi scheme?” Good God, what kind of strength would it take to turn in her own husband?

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I handed over the evidence to the police. He’d stolen so much from so many people, I couldn’t stay silent. His parents posted bail, and I wasn’t given warning.” She spun the stem between her thumb and forefinger. “When he walked back into the house, he had a gun.”

Shock nailed him harder than a sail boom to the gut.

“My God, Shannon. I knew he’d committed suicide but I had no idea you were there. I’m so damn sorry.”

“That’s not all, though. For once the media didn’t uncover everything.” She drew herself up straight. “Nolan said he was going to kill me, then Kolby and then himself.”

Her words iced the perspiration on his brow. This was so much worse than he’d foreseen. He cupped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She trembled and kept twirling the flower, but she didn’t stop speaking.

“His parents pulled up in the driveway.” A shuddering sigh racked her body, her profile pained. “He realized he wouldn’t have time to carry out his original plan. Thank God he locked himself in his office before he pulled the trigger and killed himself.”

“Shannon.” Horror threatened to steal his breath, but for her, he would hold steady. “I don’t even know what to say to fix the hell you were put through.”

“I didn’t tell his parents what he’d planned. They’d lost their son and he’d been labeled a criminal.” She held up the blue salvia. “I couldn’t see causing them more grief when they thought of him.”

Her eyes were filled with tears and regret. Tony kissed her forehead, then pulled her against his chest. “You were generous to the memory of a man who didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it for him. No matter what, he’s the father of my child.” She pressed her cheek harder against him and hugged him tightly. “Kolby will have to live with the knowledge that his dad was a crook, but I’ll be damned before I’ll let my son know his own father tried to kill him.”

“You’ve fought hard for your son.” He stroked her back. “You’re a good mother and a strong woman.”

She reminded him of a distant memory, of his own mother wrapping him in a silver blanket as they left San Rinaldo and telling him the shield would keep him safe. She’d been right. If only he could have protected her, as well.

Easing away, Shannon scrubbed her damp cheeks. “Thank God for Vernon. I’d sold off everything to pay Nolan’s debts, even my piano and my oboe. The first waitressing job I landed in Louisiana didn’t cover expenses. We were running out of options when Vernon hired me. Everyone else treated me like a pariah. Even Nolan’s parents didn’t want anything to do with either of us. So many people insisted I must have known what he was doing. That I must have tucked away money for myself. The gossip and the rumors were hell.”

Realization, understanding spewed inside him like the abrupt shower of the sprinklers misting over the potted plants. He’d finally found a woman he could trust enough to propose marriage.

Only to find a husband was likely the last thing she ever wanted again.

After she’d finished dredging up her past, she’d needed to see her son. Tony had been understanding, although she could sense he wanted to talk longer. Once she’d returned to her suite, she’d showered and changed—and had been with her son ever since.

The past twenty-four hours had been emotionally charged on so many levels. Tony had been supportive and understanding, while giving her space. He’d also been a tender—thorough—lover.

Could she risk giving their relationship another try once they returned to the mainland? Was it possible for her to be a part of a normal couple?

A tug on her shirt yanked her attention back to the moment. Kolby looked up at her with wide blue eyes. “I’m hungry.”

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll go down to the kitchen and see what we can find.” Hopefully the cook—the
chef
—wouldn’t object since he must be right in the middle of supper prep. “We just need to clean up the toys first.”

As she reached for the train set’s storage bin, she heard a throat clear behind her and jerked around to find her on-again lover standing in the balcony doorway.

Her stomach fluttered with awareness, and she pressed her sweaty palms to her jeans. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long.” Tony had showered and changed as well, wearing khakis and a button-down. “I can make his snack.”

Whoa, Tony was seeking time with her son? That signaled a definite shift in their relationship. Although she’d seen him make his own breakfast in the past, she couldn’t miss the significance of this moment and his efforts to try.

Turning him away would mean taking a step back. “Are you sure?”

Because God knows, she still had a boatload of fears.

“Positive,” he said, his voice as steady as the man.

“Okay then.” She pressed a hand over her stomach full of butterflies. “I’ll just clean up here—”

“We’ve got it, don’t we, pal?”

Kolby eyed him warily but he didn’t turn away, probably because Tony kept his distance. He wasn’t pushing. Maybe they’d both learned a lot these past couple of weeks.

“Okay, then.” She stood, looking around the room, unsure what to do next. “I’ll just, uh…”

Tony touched her hand lightly. “You mentioned selling your piano and I couldn’t miss the regret in your voice. There’s a Steinway Grand in the east wing. Alys or one of the guards can show you where if you would like to play.”

Would she? Her fingers twitched. She’d closed off so much of her old life, including the good parts. Her music had been a beautiful bright spot in those solitary years of her life with Nolan. How kind of Tony to see beyond the surface of the harrowing final moments that had tainted her whole marriage. In the same way he’d chosen flowers based on facets of her personality, he’d detected the creativity she’d all but forgotten, honoring it in a small, simple offer.

Nodding her head was tougher than she thought. Her body went a little jerky before she could manage a response. “I would like that. Thank you for thinking of it and for spending time with Kolby.”

He was a man who saw beyond her material needs…a man to treasure.

Her throat clogging with emotion, she backed from the room, watching the tableau of Tony with her son. Antonio Medina, a prince and billionaire, knelt on the floor with Kolby, cleaning up a wooden train set.

Tony chunked the caboose in the bin. “Has your mom ever cooked you a Cyclops?”

“What’s a cycle-ops?” His face was intent with interest.

“The sooner we clean up the trains, the sooner I can show you.”

She pressed a hand to her swelling heart. Tony was handling Kolby with ease. Her son would be fine.

After getting directions from Alys, Shannon found the east wing and finally the music room. What a simple way to describe such an awe-inspiring space. More of a circular ballroom, wooden floors stretched across, with a coffered ceiling that added texture as well as sound control. Crystal chandeliers and sconces glittered in the late afternoon sun.

And the instruments… Her feet drew her deeper into the room, closer to the gold gilded harp and a Steinway grand piano. She stroked the ivory keys reverently, then zipped through a scale. Pure magic.

She perched on the bench, her hands poised. Unease skittered up her spine like a double-timed scale, a sense of being watched. Pivoting around, she searched the expansive room….

Seated in a tapestry wingback, Enrique Medina stared back at her from beside a stained glass window. Even with his ill health, the deposed monarch radiated power and charisma. His dogs asleep on either side, he wore a simple dark suit with an ascot, perfectly creased although loose fitting. He’d lost even more weight since her arrival.

Enrique thumbed a gold pocket watch absently. “Do not mind me.”

Had Tony sent her to this room on purpose, knowing his father would be here? She didn’t think so, given the stilted relationship between the two men. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

“Not at all. We have not had a chance to speak alone, you and I,” he said with a hint of an accent.

The musicality was pleasing to the ear. Every now and then, a lilt in certain words reminded her of how Tony spoke, small habits that she hadn’t discerned as being raised with a foreign language. But she could hear the similarity more clearly when listening to his father.

While she’d seen the king daily during her two weeks on the island, those encounters had been mostly during meals. He’d spent the majority of his time with his daughter. But since Eloisa and her husband had left this afternoon, Enrique must be at loose ends. Shannon envied them that connection, and missed her own parents all the more. How much different her life might have been if they hadn’t died. Her mother had shared a love of music.

She stroked the keyboard longingly. “Who plays the piano?”

“My sons took lessons as a part of the curriculum outlined by their tutors.”

“Of course, I should have realized,” she said. “Tony can play?”

Laughter rattled around inside his chest. “That would be a stretch. My youngest son can read music, but he did not enjoy sitting still. Antonio rushed through lessons so he could go outside.”

“I can picture that.”

“You know him well then.” His sharp brown eyes took in everything. “Now my middle boy, Duarte, is more disciplined, quite the martial arts expert. But with music?” Enrique waved dismissively. “He performs like a robot.”

Her curiosity tweaked for more details on Tony’s family. Over the past couple of weeks, their relationship had deepened, and she needed more insights to still the fears churning her gut. “And your oldest son, Carlos? How did he fare with the piano lessons?”

A dark shadow crossed Enrique’s face before he schooled his regal features again. “He had a gift. He’s a surgeon now, using that touch in other ways.”

“I can see how the two careers could tap into the same skill,” she said, brushing her fingers over the gleaming keys.

Perhaps she could try again to find a career that tapped into her love of music. What a gift it would be to bring joy deeper into her life again.

Enrique tucked one hand into his pocket. “Do you have feelings for my son?”

His blunt question blindsided her, but she should have realized this cunning man never chatted just for conversation’s sake. “That is a personal question.”

“And I may not have time to wait around for you to feel comfortable answering.”

“You’re playing the death card? That’s a bit cold, don’t you think, sir?”

He laughed, hard and full-out like Tony did—or like he used to. “You have a spine. Good. You are a fine match for my stubborn youngest.”

Her irritation over his probing questions eased. What parent didn’t want to see their children settled and happy? “I appreciate your opening your home to me and my son and giving us a chance to get to know you.”

“Diplomatically said, my dear. You are wise to proceed thoughtfully. Regrets are a terrible thing,” he said somberly. “I should have sent my family out of San Rinaldo sooner. I waited too long and Beatriz paid the price.”

The darker turn of the conversation stilled her. She’d wanted more insights into Tony’s life, yet this was going so much deeper than she had anticipated.

Enrique continued, “It was such chaos that day when the coup began. We had planned for my family to take one escape route and I would use another.” His jaw flexed sharply in his gaunt face. “I made it out, and the rebels found my family. Carlos was injured trying to save his mother.”

The picture of violence and terror he painted sounded like something from a movie, so unreal, yet they’d lived it. “Tony and your other sons witnessed the attack on their mother?”

“Antonio had nightmares for a year, and then he became obsessed with the beach and surfing. From that day on, he lived to leave the island.”

She’d known the bare bones details of their escape. But the horror they’d lived through, the massive losses rolled over her with a new vividness. Tony’s need to help her had more to do with caring than control. He didn’t want to isolate her or smother her by managing everything the way her husband had. Tony tried to help her because he’d failed to save someone else he cared about.

Somehow, knowing this made it easier for her to open her heart. To take a chance beyond their weeks here.

Without question, he would have to understand her need for independence, but she also had to appreciate how he’d been hurt, how those hurts had shaped him. And as Antonio Medina and Tony Castillo merged in her mind, she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

She loved him.

Approaching footsteps startled her, drawing her focus from the past and toward the arched entry. Tony stepped into view just when her defenses were at their lowest. No doubt her heart was in her eyes. She started toward him, only to realize
his
eyes held no tender feelings.

The harsh angles of his face blared a forewarning before he announced, “There’s been a security breach.”