The Inconveniently Engaged Prince
“When you were five?”
He was so stunned and appalled on her behalf, she wanted to reach across the table and hug him. “Yes. Old enough to remember. That was the unforgivable thing during my growing-up years. She was a drug addict. Had more boyfriends than there were days in the week. Drugs won out over maternal instincts, I guess.”
“Did you ever try to look her up when you were older?”
“Yes. It’s strange how we cling to hope, even when bad things happen to us. I found out that she died two years after she gave me away.”
He reached for her hand. Not in pity. She could tell the difference. His touch was gentle, yet strong. The slight squeeze held compassion, yes, but mainly support.
“You’ve got to be proud of yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve lived your life and made good choices when you could have dwelled on the negative and taken a different turn like so many others do.”
She felt the immediate twinge of shame pour over her, twisted the rings on her finger. “All my choices haven’t been so great.”
“You’re about to get your college degree. You work instead of standing in line for food stamps. You haven’t had the support of family to back you, yet you’ve forged ahead. That’s something to be proud of.”
She wasn’t used to people singing her praises. It pleased her more than she wanted to admit. Unable to find adequate words, she mumbled, “Thanks,” and concentrated on the fabulous breakfast before her.
“COOL CAR,” Jace said as they headed back over the bay toward town. “It suits you.” He loved the way the wind twirled her silky hair.
“I like it.”
He reached over and brushed a strand of hair that kept catching in her mouth. He could see her eyes from the corners of her sunglasses and saw her gaze dart toward him for an instant. She was still a little jumpy around him, as though she didn’t quite trust him. He wanted to change that attitude. In a hurry.
She was a mass of contradictions, and that intrigued him. Wholesome, sexy, shy and sweet, with a hint of steel at her core. She had the glossy lips of a siren, the delicate face of an angel—and a tattoo.
Hell, he was getting hot. And not from the sun beating down on his head.
“So, what do you usually do on weekends? Besides bird-watching, that is.” They were skirting downtown San Diego now. He automatically noted one of Carracell Inc.’s retail stores in a strip mall off to the right. The cell phone business was booming, and this particular location drew a lot of customers.
“Friday and Saturday nights, I work at Diamond Jim’s. During the day, and on Sundays, I try to catch up on chores and studying.”
“Hmm. So, you’re going to school five days and working six nights—”
“Five. I’m off on Sunday and Monday.”
“That’s good to know.”
She glanced over at him. He just smiled.
“Still, doesn’t leave much time for a social life,” he said.
“It hasn’t been a difficult sacrifice. I made the decision when I enrolled at the university, and that’s that.”
“Are you saying you haven’t had a boyfriend since you started school?” He saw her hands tighten on the steering wheel. That little gesture made him curious.
“I started school when I was five. Let’s see, I went steady with Terry Small in the third grade. And then there was a torrid fling with Chad Holkum at the end of fourth year…” She glanced at him. “Did you want the entire list?”
He liked her sass. Even though he detected that it hid deeper emotions. The very pleasantness of her tone told him he was trespassing where she didn’t want him to go.
Since he’d never been one to pay much attention to warning signs, he winked at her. “We can save that for the next date. What I was fishing for, and doing a bad job of it at that, was more along the lines of recent men. Just wondering about my competition.”
“Since there’s not going to be a relationship between us, competition isn’t relevant.”
“Victoria,” he said on a sigh, “you are a difficult woman. But never fear. I’m a patient man. And I love a challenge.”
“I’m not challenging you, Jace.” She pulled into the entrance of Torrey Pines State Reserve Park. Parking in the lot, she shut off the engine and turned to him. “I’m not interested.”
“No?” He held her gaze, brushed a finger against a stray wisp of hair that clung to her cheek. Her eyes belied her words. Hooking his hand around the back of her neck, he drew her forward, slipped off her sunglasses. “Let’s see.”
He’d caught her off guard, but after only the slightest resistance, her lips went pliant beneath his. If she’d fought him, pulled back in earnest, he’d have immediately let her go. But just as her eyes had contradicted, so did her mouth. It was sweet, hungry…and definitely interested.
She tasted like his destiny.
The thought skittered through his head, should have surprised him, made him nervous. The only thing he could truly think about right now, though, was the intoxicating, electrifying tumult of desire that gripped his body like a vice and held him in thrall.
Despite her admitted lack of social life, Victoria Meadland knew how to kiss. She damned near melted his bones and fried his brain.
He wanted more, pulled her tighter against him, angled his head and feasted, surprised to find himself hard-pressed to keep up with her. He’d meant to prove a point to her. He was the one getting the lesson.
A car door slammed and the sound of a child’s voice lifted in glee pierced his impassioned haze.
Jace lingered for another moment, then broke the kiss. Softly. Slowly.
He watched as her lids lifted to reveal dazed, beautiful blue eyes.
“Didn’t feel uninterested to me.”
Coherency flashed in her eyes with the speed of a powerful microprocessor. She scooted away from him, tucked her hair behind her ear, fumbled for the sunglasses he’d removed.
“Sexual chemistry doesn’t make a relationship.”
“No, but it helps.” He noted that her hands were trembling.
“Jace, I told you, I’m not looking for anything more than friendship.”
“But I am.”
Her release of breath held more than frustration. “I think this was a bad idea. Maybe we should just call it a day.” She reached for the ignition key.
He put his hand over hers, stilling her movements. He didn’t know what made Victoria Meadland try to shy away from men—or from him—but he vowed to find out.
“We haven’t even begun the day. I’d ask you if it was me, but after that kiss, it’d be a pretty stupid question.”
She stared out at the tall pines that perfumed the air, then took off her sunglasses and turned to him. In her eyes were secrets and a vulnerability she desperately tried to mask. The combination made his heart sting, made him want to gather her close and promise her the world.
A world where everything was nice and tidy and pretty.
“I’ve made mistakes, Jace. I don’t want to repeat them.”
He put a finger over her lips. “I’m not interested in the past. We all have one, and all of us screw up at one time or another. But we all deserve a second chance as well. Can’t you let yourself have that chance?”
She glanced away, pulling inward to a place he feared he couldn’t reach. “I’m scared,” she admitted softly.
“Hell, so am I. I don’t usually come on so strong to a woman, but you touch something inside me.”
“Jace—”
He stopped her again, this time reaching for her hand. “Let’s put this on hold, okay? We got a little side-tracked and we’re supposed to be bird-watching.”
“You can’t really want to go scouting for birds.”
“I absolutely do. And just think. You can use me for a sounding board, educate me on our residential winged creatures. It’ll be just like answering questions on a test. Difference is, I won’t know if you’re giving the correct answer or not, so either way, you ace the exam.”
Her smile started slowly, then blossomed. “That’s the most ridiculous attempt to get your way that I’ve ever heard. Sounds to me like you’re not going to be of much help as a study aid.”
He grinned, squeezed her hand again just to please himself. “Try me.”
Chapter Three
She took him on the Guy Fleming Trail because it was an easy walk. Although he was in fabulous shape, and his tennis shoes were top quality and would manage most any terrain, she herself enjoyed this loop of the park. It was less traveled by tourists, who usually chose the beach trail.
“It’s peaceful here,” he said, looking up at the huge pines. “I’ve lived in San Diego all my life and never come here.”
“You’re probably into roller-blading or running along the boardwalks or parks by the beach, I bet.”
He grinned. “How’d you guess?”
“It shows.” She gave his body a quick scan to prove her point.
“You’re good for my ego.”
“As if it needs any help,” she said dryly.
“Surely you’re not accusing me of being conceited.”
She thought about that for a moment. Actually, he wasn’t stuck on himself. Just self-assured. “I was teasing—oh, look.” She held out an arm, stopping him. Four quail chicks had ventured out for a drink in the birdbath just ahead of them.
“Little suckers, aren’t they?” Jace said.
“Shh.” Too late. The sound of his voice sent the mama quail out of the bushes where she’d been keeping watch. In seconds she had her babies rounded up and filed back into the cover of the bushes.
Vickie sighed. “There are rules to bird-watching. The first one is to be quiet.”
He looked sheepish. “I knew that.”
For the next few minutes, he walked beside her in silence, but she could feel the intangible vibration coming from him. He was dying to talk.
Unable to stand it any longer, she paused at the North Overlook and brushed her fingers against the prickly needles of a pine. “What?” she demanded.
His blond brows raised.
“You look like you’re about to burst.”
“I’m trying to be quiet.” He reached down and scooped up a handful of pine needles. “I’m usually pretty good at following rules. This one’s difficult.”
“Why? Don’t you enjoy the solitude of nature?”
“Sure. When I’m not with a beautiful woman.”
The compliment shot straight to her head, chipped at her resolve to keep things light.
“We can talk. Most of the birds are in the trees and they’ll pretty much ignore us.” Like the scrub jay busily gathering seeds out of a pine cone a few yards away.
He let out a relieved sigh. “So, don’t you need to be taking notes?”
“I’ve got a good memory. I’m more of a visual person, anyway. Most of the species, I’ve already looked up. I just like to come and see them in person rather than looking at a glossy picture. Besides, I love these old trees, the smell of them, what they represent.”
“Trees are trees.”
She smiled. “You’ve been living in the city jungle for too long. Your appreciation of the finer things in life appears to be lacking.”
“I appreciate fine things. Except, maybe opera. I’m sorry to say, I just can’t get into that. Or the ballet.”
She started them walking along the trail again. “I’ve never personally experienced either one, but I’ve read about them and seen some on television. I think I’d enjoy the ballet more than the opera.”
“Really?” He sounded appalled, yet resigned, as though he’d offer to take her if that’s truly what she wanted.
She tugged his sleeve when he slowed down, and he slid his hand down to link with hers. For a second, she started to resist. They shouldn’t be walking hand in hand like lovers. But the warmth of his big palm felt comforting. Solid. Like the pines that surrounded them.
The trees in this section of the reserve weren’t the rarest or the tallest of the species, but the moment she’d stumbled upon them several years ago, she’d identified with them. Along the sea cliffs, their roots grew in poor soil, they suffered from drought, were blasted by storms and cooked in the sun, yet they survived.
Vickie, too, had endured her share of hard times, but she hadn’t given up. She’d survived.
When she left her hand in his, he gave a squeeze as if to say thanks. Her heart throbbed in her chest and she suddenly couldn’t think of a thing to say. Life didn’t get much better than this.
Here she was walking through one of her favorite places. And here was this man with gilded hair and laughter in his eyes. A strong, capable man who excelled in the business world, yet remained so humanly, genuinely down to earth.
And he was with her.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he commented. “Are you taking mental notes?”
“Yes.” Just not on the birds. “It’s easy to get caught up in the serenity.”
“The beach is pretty serene.”
“Yes, but that’s the trail that most of the tourists take.” They were at the South Overlook now and she nudged him over toward a pretty clearing by the cliffs.
“Man, look at that,” he said. “You can see clear to Catalina Island.”
“That impresses you? You’ve got an excellent view right off your own deck at your condo.”
“Yeah, but the weather’s not always cooperative, and the island stays hidden.” He lifted their joined hands, pointed toward the south. “That’s La Jolla. See that hill over there?”
She leaned in close, smelled the fresh air scent on his clothes, the subtle hint of spice on his skin. She nearly lost her concentration, then followed the direction of their joined hands. “The one with the mansions scattered on top?”
“Well, yeah. But I never considered them mansions. My parents live on that hill.” He dropped their hands back to his side but didn’t let go.
“You grew up there?”
“Mostly. They bought the house about twenty years ago.”
“Must have seemed like paradise to you. Not that your condo isn’t like a slice of Eden.”
Jace glanced down at her, surprised by the whisper of envy, yet genuine appreciation. He’d taken his homes for granted, rarely saw them through anyone’s eyes but his own familiar ones. He kept forgetting that Vickie had grown up in what she’d termed Hell’s Home.
She was so beautiful. Not like a model or movie star all made-up for the public. She was fresh and wholesome. Her skin was smooth and sun-kissed with a sprinkle of pale freckles. Full lips, lake-blue eyes, a no-fuss hairstyle that left it silky and straight, long enough to brush her shoulders. The kind of hair that made a man want to run his hands through it, feel it tickling against his chest, his…
“Uh, why don’t we sit for a minute.”
“Sure.”
He’d meant to take advantage of the bench, but Vickie moved close to the edge of the overlook, bent down to test the dampness of the ground and sat among the packed dirt and pine needles, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He joined her on the ground, took a moment to listen to the sound of the sea and chatter of birds, missing the feel of her hand in his.
A gull winged overhead, squealing as he soared and kept an eye out for food treasures in the sea or tidbits left on the beach by careless walkers.
“Do seagulls count as bird-watching subjects?”
“Yes,” she said with an indulgent smile.
“Well, then, we’ve got a front row seat to do some serious watching.” He propped an arm on his bent knee and sifted his fingers through the pine needles strewn on the ground.
“I bet you’ve loved living on the ocean all your life.” Her voice was soft and wistful as she gazed out at the sea.
“It’s the best.”
“Do you sail?” she asked.
“Mmm. I’ve got a little catamaran I take out several times a month. And a sixty-foot Michaelson that’s a honey of a sports fisher. It’s great for weekend trips to Catalina Island, too. Have you ever been over there?”
“No.”
“I’ll take you. It’s also cool to cruise the harbor at night, watch the sunset and look at the lights. We should plan that, as well.”
“Whoa. With all these plans, how do you get any work done?”
“I’m one of those nasty larks you mentioned this morning. I get up early, take care of business when the phones aren’t ringing like mad. Plus, I have an incredibly qualified staff to handle the day-to-day running of things. They’re a great group of people, most of them have been with me from the start of the company. If I decided to retire tomorrow, the company would run without me.”
“Could you just let it go like that? I mean, it’s your baby, so to speak. Wouldn’t you miss it?”
“Maybe. I’ve taken it pretty well to the top, and we’ve been lucky enough to stay there. Sometimes I get an itch to try something different, though. Nothing like a new venture to stir the blood. As you probably know with your studies and plans for teaching.”
“My teaching’s certainly not going to make me millions like your cell phone business obviously has done for you.”
“But you’ll be following your bliss.”
She looked over at him, hugged her bent knees tighter. “That’s a neat way of putting it.”
“It’s true. No matter what you choose to do in life, it should be something you love, something you’re passionate about. I’ve heard that passion in your voice when you talk about teaching, seen your dedication to school and studying. I admire that. If I didn’t think you were into it, I’d be trying to steer you in another direction.”
“A meddler, are you?”
He grinned. “Probably. My sister says so. She’s always buried in her science experiments and I’m hounding her to get out and interact with people more. She’s got great qualities but she isolates herself instead. I guess I can get carried away sometimes putting in my two cents worth, but I like to see the people around me, especially the people who matter to me, be the best they can be.”
Vickie rubbed her hands over the ribbed cotton sleeves of her sweater, watched the enthusiasm on his handsome face as he warmed to his subject. His optimism was contagious. And with regard to her, it was thrilling.
He believed she was the best she could be. The implied compliment touched her more deeply than a bucket of diamonds laid at her feet.
She’d been taught she wasn’t good enough. A gesture here, a cutting word there. Growing up, it had been as though she were invisible, of no consequence to anyone. Just a body taking up space and an extra mouth to feed.
Jace touched her cheek, startled her. “Where’d you go all of a sudden?”
She gazed out at the sea, to the hill scattered with luxury homes, one of them his family’s. “When I was fifteen, I skipped school with a friend. Her parents were at work, so we hung out at her house. We listened to music, mooned over boys, nipped into a bottle of wine and sampled a few other brands of liquor behind their wet bar. I found out pretty quick that mixing various types of alcohol has pretty awful consequences.” She paused and watched as a flock of pelicans took flight from the marsh and landed at the ocean’s edge to wade in the waves.
“Tracy’s mom caught us and drove me back to the group home. I just wanted to curl up and die someplace. Although she scolded us for the drinking, she figured heaving up our toenails was punishment enough. She was gentle with me, amused in a way.”
“I’m guessing the folks at Hell’s Home weren’t so amused?”
She smiled at the way he used her disrespectful name for Helen’s Home. “No, Helen wasn’t amused. She said she’d expected as much from me. That I’d come from trash and would be trash for the rest of my life.”
Jace cursed and put his arm around her. “But you didn’t believe her.”
“Oh, yes I did. For a while at least.” She liked the feel of his arm around her but didn’t like the direction of the conversation. She didn’t know why she’d told him that, could still feel the shame, the hurt, the isolation.
“So, anyway,” she said, flicking her hair behind her ear, “I appreciate you saying what you did. About being the best I can.”
He pressed his lips gently against her temple. She could have turned into him, would have welcomed the intimacy, but he simply rested his head against hers, sat quietly and watched the waves break in frothy curls, rushing onto shore and ebbing out again.
WHEN SHE PULLED into the driveway of Jace’s condo later that day, she left the car running so she wouldn’t be tempted to prolong the day. After only spending a short amount of time with him, she couldn’t believe how well they hit it off. He was easy to be with, brought out the best in her.
Jace reached over and shut off the ignition key himself. “How about some dinner before you head off for work?”
She shook her head. “No time. I need to type up a quick paper on my notes about today, then be at the bar by six.”
“Notes? Will I be included in them?”
She couldn’t resist his sexy smile. “I don’t think my science professor would go for that.”
“Hey, I contributed. I pointed out the seagull, didn’t I?”
“And scared off the baby quail.”
“Sorry about that.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I don’t want the day to end.”
“I have to work or I won’t be able to indulge in your favorite subject. Eating. Honestly, I don’t know how you stay in such great shape.”
“Mmm. More compliments on my physique. We’re making progress.”
She laughed. “Get out of my car, Jace Carradigne. You’ll make me late.”
“Kiss me goodbye?”
She shook her head. “I can’t think when you kiss me.”
“I said you kiss me. I promise to let you do all the work.”
“You think that’ll make a difference?”
“Won’t know till we give it a try. In the interest of an experiment, I’m willing to sacrifice myself.”
“Does anyone ever tell you no?”
“Sure. Lots of times.”
His mouth was so close, smiling and inviting. The temptation was bigger than she was. “Okay. Keep your hands in your lap.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Stifling a bubble of laughter, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his. The spark was just as strong as a full-out kiss. What the heck. In for a penny and all that.
She touched the side of his face, watched his eyes deepen to the color of rich moss. This time when she leaned into him, her mouth was firm, direct and mobile. The tickle of laughter turned into a silent moan of intense need.
Although his hands remained in his lap as promised, he kissed her back. And oh, he was good at it.
Lost in the feel of him, she forgot that she was the one supposed to be in control. She raised her other hand to his face, and put everything she had into the kiss, determined to leave him with an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.
She was playing with fire, and it wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
Finding that her own bones had turned liquid, she eased up, nibbled, toyed, then slowly slid back to her own side of the car.
He sat totally silent for endless minutes. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “Wow.”
She was having a little trouble with her own breathing, so she just smiled.
“After that, you’ve got to promise to have brunch with me tomorrow.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?”
“Sure. But then you set me straight on several different occasions, remember?”
Her insistence over not having or wanting a social life. “It’s not nice to gloat when you’re right.”
“I grovel as well as I gloat.” He grinned, and the power of those dimples was like a thrilling sock to her solar plexus.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You’d be doing me a huge favor. It’s Sunday brunch at my parents’ house. Although they’re great people, things like that can be tedious.”
“Your parents’ house! I’m not crashing a family breakfast uninvited. I haven’t even met them.”
“You won’t be crashing, I just invited you, and you’ll meet them tomorrow.”
“You can’t just invite a guest to come home with you.”
“Why not?”
“It might be awkward.”
“My mother would be insulted if she heard that. She prides herself on making company feel welcome. Come on, Vickie. I want to spend time with you. And I’d like you to meet my parents. Say yes.”