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think he can stay here,’ she whispered and something in her face had him crossing the room to

      her in two swift strides and taking her hands in his.

      ‘Kelly, don’t look like that.’

      ‘Like…like what?’

      ‘As if you’re tearing yourself in two.’

      ‘I’m not. I’m not. Go and say goodnight to Matty.’ She pulled away from him roughly. For a moment he stood, looking down at her face, obviously troubled, but she wouldn’t look at him.

      Finally he wheeled away. He disappeared into the bedroom. She stood, feeling lost, bewildered, distressed, listening to the sound of the two faint voices. Matty must have only been snoozing. He’d been waiting. Waiting for his Uncle Rafael.

      He’s a good man, she thought. This was no Kass. She could trust him with her son.

      Matty’s home was in Alp de Ciel. Matty was royal.

      But how could she let Matty go again?

      And then Rafael was back, returning to warm his hands by the fire. Were they really cold, she wondered, or was it just to give him something to do?

      ‘They’ll find Matty here,’ she said miserably, going straight to the heart of the matter. ‘The press might think Matty’s safely at home in Alp de Ciel now, but as soon as they figure he’s missing they’ll put two and two together. You come out here on a whim. Prince Mathieu disappears at the same time. It’ll take them no time at all to figure where Matty might be.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘And I can’t protect him here,’ she whispered. ‘Not from the goldfish bowl that’s the royal way of life.’

      ‘So what do you want to do?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Come back to Alp de Ciel?’ he said, and then, at the look on her face, he came to her again. Once again he took her hands in his, his rough, callused hands completely enclosing her smaller ones. ‘It’s what my mother and I hope for. It’s what should happen. That you should come home to the castle.’

      ‘It’s not my home.’

      ‘It’s your son’s home.’

      ‘I hate it.’

      ‘So do I,’ he said surprisingly. ‘I can’t tell you how much I loathe being part of the whole royalty bit. But there’s no choice.’

      ‘There must be a choice.’

      ‘If I don’t take the Regency on,’ he said, ‘there are others who would. Others like Kass. You know Kass and his father were lousy rulers. They stripped the country of all they could get their hands on.’

      ‘Of course I know that,’ she said angrily. ‘But it’s nothing to do with me.’

      ‘It is,’ he said harshly. ‘In as much as it’s your son who’ll eventually make the decisions about the country’s future. If I refuse to take on the Regency, then someone else will take charge until Matty is twenty-five. The next in line is my cousin, Olivier. Olivier is a compulsive gambler. He’d see the Regency as a way to get his hands on the country’s coffers. And worse,’ he added softly, ‘he’d also have absolute say in how Matty is raised. Neither you nor I nor my mother, who until now has been his one constant, would have any influence at all.’

      Kelly gasped. ‘But…’

      ‘It is unfair,’ Rafael said. He was still holding her, using his strength to augment the urgency of what he was saying. ‘I know that. But there’s not a thing I can do about it. My mother says I don’t have a choice and she’s right.’

      ‘Your mother…’

      ‘Don’t get me wrong. My mother hates the royal bit as much as I do. We’re not doing this for personal gain, Kelly.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, it’s too much. I hoped I’d given the press the slip, which would have given you a few days to sort things out. But tomorrow morning the press will be camped outside my accommodation…’

      ‘You’re not staying here?’

      ‘How can I?’

      ‘You’ve gone back to the Prince Edward?’

      ‘I’m being put up in the mayoral residence,’ he said ruefully. ‘They think I’m home in bed now, getting over jet lag, instead of here, trying to convince you to come with me back to Alp de Ciel.’

      ‘I don’t want to.’ She sounded like a child—petulant—and she winced but he looked at her with understanding.

      ‘Of course you don’t. But this way you’ll have your son.’

      ‘There must be another way.’

      ‘There is,’ he said reluctantly. ‘We could set you up somewhere else, some gated community where you’d be safe. You have all the royal allowance you’ve never touched, and if it’s used to care for Matty even you might swallow your principles and use it. But you’d be even more isolated than you are here.’

      ‘I’m not isolated.’

      ‘I think you are,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve been so badly hurt that you’ve run, not just back to Australia but back in time. Kelly, you’re the mother of the Crown Prince of Alp de Ciel. You knew that when you bore Matty. The crown is his birthright, and it’s your duty to be his mother.’

      ‘But your mother loves him. His Aunt Laura…’

      ‘Are you saying you don’t want to be his mother?’

      ‘No, I…’

      ‘He doesn’t know you yet,’ Rafael said. ‘He will. He’s already proud of what you do—fascinated. He already thinks you’re beautiful. Trust takes time, and so does love. Kelly, can you give that to him?’

      ‘But to go back…’

      To where she’d been stripped of everything that was important to her—her heart, her pride, her son. How could she go back?

      ‘You won’t be alone. My mother will be there.’

      The grip on her hands grew stronger. ‘You didn’t meet her last time. She comes across to Manhattan in the worst of Alp de Ciel’s winter and spends time with me. You were at the castle for only six weeks after the old prince died, in the last stages of your pregnancy and after Mathieu’s birth. The fuss was such that my mother stayed longer with me and when she returned your son was there but you were gone. You’ll love her.’

      ‘I don’t do love,’ she snapped and he stilled.

      ‘Are you saying you don’t love Matty?’

      ‘Of…of course…’

      ‘Of course you do,’ he agreed softly. ‘Love isn’t something you can turn on and off again at will.’

      ‘And you know this how?’

      He winced. A shadow of pain crossed his face and she thought, I know nothing about him. Nothing. A toy-maker from Manhattan. The Prince Regent of Alp de Ciel.

      Rafael.

      ‘You need to come,’ he said softly but she was replaying the conversation over in her head, trying to sort it out. There was something not right.

       You won’t be alone. My mother will be there.

      ‘Will you be there?’ she asked. She’d hit a nerve. A muscle moved at the side of his mouth. Infinitesimal—but there was something.

      ‘I’ll be there when I need to be.’

      ‘You’ll be there when you need to be.’ She almost gasped. ‘Prince Regent of Alp de Ciel…a country that’s desperate for reorganization… There when you need to

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