The Marcelli Princess Page 21


"It wouldn't be my first choice," Brenna admitted, "but hey, he's royal. Maybe it's a big fourth birthday thing with his family."


"I guess. It's just… shouldn't he have talked to me about it? I'm Danny's mother."


"Rafael is his father." Brenna rolled her eyes. "I really hate taking the guy's side against a woman, especially my sister, but this time I think you're freaking over nothing. It's a pony. It's not like he bought him an island."


"Calandria is an island. As heir, I guess Danny already has that."


"Okay, then strippers. That would have been a gift to get crabby about. Families do odd things. Grandpa Lorenzo made all of us learn about wine even though I was the only one interested. It happens. Don't worry about it. Danny is a prince, which is just too weird. Don't all princes need to learn how to ride? Isn't it in the prince handbook?"


"Probably. I should Google him again."


"Rafael?" Brenna asked.


Mia walked to the desk and sat in the large chair across from Brenna's. "Yeah. I did it once and I was overwhelmed by pictures of him with beautiful young women. It got depressing."


"Mia, you're gorgeous and smart and a lot more interesting than any high-society rich bitch he might meet at some charity event."


"You don't actually know that."


"Of course I do. He fell for you years ago and now he wants to marry you. Doesn't that mean you win?"


Mia rubbed her temples. "I can't believe we're having this conversation. I can't believe Danny is a prince."


"It's a little too late to take back Rafael as his father. You should have thought of that before you did the wild thing."


"Who knew it would come to this?" She sighed. "Who knew Diego was really Crown Prince Rafael in disguise? My life is a soap opera."


Mia looked at her sister and drew in a breath. "I said yes."


Brenna stared at her. "To his proposal?"


Mia nodded. "Last night. I can't face anything huge or ceremonial right now. We're going to Las Vegas after Danny's birthday."


Brenna stood and clapped her hands together. "I don't know what to say. My baby sister, the queen."


Mia stood and they hugged. When Brenna released her, Mia asked, "Am I crazy to do this?"


"I don't know. Does it feel right? Are you happy?"


"I was until the pony."


Brenna laughed. "What is it about that damned horse that has you so freaked?"


"I don't know. I guess it's that he didn't discuss it with me. He made his own decision."


"I can understand that, but how many of your decisions have you discussed with him? Mia, it's been five years since you were last together. It's going to take a little time to figure out how this all fits."


"You're right. Which means running off to marry him isn't what I should be doing."


"I don't want to respond to that," Brenna admitted. "You have to do what feels right. Rafael is Danny's father. Whether or not you marry him, you're going to have to deal with him for the rest of your life."


"I've been thinking about that. How exactly does one work out a custody agreement with a prince?"


"Tell me that's not why you're marrying him. To make a custody agreement easier."


"It's not." Mia sank back into her chair. "I haven't been with anyone since him. I… Katie said I had never fallen out of love with him, which I violently disagreed with at the time, but I've been thinking maybe she was right. I have feelings for him. Strong feelings. And he's a really great guy. I like how he is with Danny and me. He's open and honest and I still get tingles."


"So what's not to like?" Brenna asked.


"That's what I keep thinking. So I said I'd marry him."


"You can change your mind. Or put it off. There's a lot to be said for getting to know the guy you're going to rule with."


Mia groaned. "When I think about being with Rafael I get butterflies, but when I think about actually ruling a country, I want to vomit. I look at what Darcy has to go through and I know I'd hate it. She's just the president's daughter."


Brenna sat on the edge of her desk. "If you're this unsure, then put things off for a while. No one is saying you have to marry him."


Mia smiled. "But I want to. Isn't that dumb? I want to marry him. I want to know that for the rest of our lives, we'll be together."


"So if Rafael were just a regular guy, you wouldn't have a problem with this."


Mia considered the statement. "Apparently not."


"In this case, the crown comes with the guy. Can you handle that?"


"I sort of have to. Otherwise, I let Rafael go, and I can't imagine doing that. When I thought he died, I didn't want to live myself. I ached for months. Being pregnant was the only thing that got me through. I can't imagine ever surviving that pain again. But the man I loved before was different."


"In good ways or bad ways?"


"Both. I liked that Diego wasn't a world-renowned sex object. Plus I have such lousy taste in men. Seriously, Brenna, do you know how badly I could be screwing this up?"


"He's a prince, Mia. How bad could it be?"


"That's what I keep telling myself." She winced. "I don't want to move away."


"I'm thinking you're going to have to live in Calandria. But there's good news. You could be on a stamp."


"I was hoping for money, but a stamp works. My God, I can't believe we're having this conversation. I guess if I do marry him we'll move to Calandria fairly quickly. We haven't talked about it, but it makes sense. I'm sure Rafael has responsibilities, and Danny and I need to start learning to be royal."


Mia stood and plucked at her T-shirt. "Who am I kidding? I bought this for five dollars at Wal-Mart. The only designer clothes I own are my mother's hand-me-downs. I don't do jewelry or know how to waltz."


Brenna stood and moved close. "You speak about four hundred languages, you're smart, you're capable, and you're in love. Are you ever going to meet another guy like Rafael? Because if you aren't sure there's another handsome prince waiting for you, I would say learning to waltz might be the way to go."


Mia smiled. "Kelly could probably teach me."


"I'm sure she'd be delighted to. Follow your heart, Mia. That's the best advice I can give you. If I'd followed mine, I would have married Nic when I was eighteen instead of wasting nearly a decade of our lives."


"Do you regret that?"


"I try not to, but sometimes, when I'm up late with the twins, I wonder what our lives would have been like if I hadn't been afraid to take the plunge."


"Don't you hate regrets?" Mia asked.


"More than anything. Follow your heart," Brenna said again. "Don't look back and think 'if only.' If you can't imagine life without him, then go for it. If you can, then don't. He's Danny's father and that's never going to change. The bottom line is you don't have to decide today."


"I know. I have two days until Danny's birthday."


"You don't have to elope. You can tell him you need more time."


Mia considered that. "I want to be with him," she said at last. "I love him."


"Then there's your answer."


The two women hugged again; then Mia headed back to the house. She was going to do it. She was going to elope with Rafael and then figure out what she'd gotten herself into.


As she walked across the lawn, she noticed the pony tethered under a tree. "I wonder what pony poop does to grass," she murmured as she climbed the steps and entered the house.


"It's me," she yelled as she walked into the empty kitchen.


A quick glance at the clock told her the Grands were probably resting before they started dinner. She stuck her head in the family room and saw Danny curled up on the sofa, watching a cartoon video.


"Doing okay?" she asked.


Danny smiled at her and nodded.


So if her son was occupied and the Grands were sleeping, that sort of left her at loose ends. Maybe she and Rafael had time for a quickie.


Anticipation propelled her upstairs. She walked down the hallway toward his room. The door stood open and she could hear him talking on the phone.


At first the words didn't register. She wasn't trying to listen in. She caught a word or two in Italian and paused. Was he talking business? Should she wait?


As she considered her options, she took another step and the floorboards creaked. Instantly Rafael went silent. When he continued the conversation, he spoke Portuguese.


Mia froze. Why on earth would he change languages like that? The most obvious explanation was that he didn't want to be understood. Which made no sense.


Even so, she crept forward to listen.


"Not to worry," he said, his voice low. "Yes, all is well. As I told you, Mia has agreed to marry me. We are to fly to Las Vegas in a few days. No, she knows nothing. We will go after Danny's birthday. I have the paperwork all ready."


He was silent for a moment. "We will return to Calandria as soon as possible. I know. Once we are there, Calandrian laws apply. No, Mia would never think to study such a thing. She has no idea that once the heir arrives in Calandria, he can never be taken away without permission from the throne. Of course. I will have my son and heir."


He was silent again. "Yes. A divorce. I have those papers as well. It is unfortunate she is not more suitable, but I understand my responsibilities. I will keep Daniel with me and send Mia way."


11


Mia found herself unable to breathe. White-hot fury poured through her until she felt sure she could melt steel simply by touching it. She stood as if nailed to the floor, unable to move as Rafael finished his conversation with his father. A conversation that revealed everything.


When he'd hung up, she forced herself to walk into her bedroom, where she picked up the phone and called Joe's cell.


"Get to the house now," she said, her voice low and thick. "Bring a gun."


She hung up before he could ask anything; then she stalked into Rafael's bedroom and wondered if she was truly capable of murder.


At that moment it seemed more than possible— it seemed likely. She wanted him dead. No, she wanted him in pain. She wanted to see blood and bone jutting through flesh. She wanted him writhing and begging, and she wanted to watch him disappear into a puddle of green slime.


He turned and smiled at her. "Mia. I was just speaking with my father and we were— " He stared at her. "What is wrong?"


She could feel the scream building, but as it hadn't reached the surface yet, she spoke in a quiet voice, one laced with so much anger, it practically snapped.


"Did you think I was so fucking stupid that I didn't speak Portuguese?"


He paled slightly. "What do you mean?"


"Just what I said, you bastard. I heard and understood every damned word. Ironically, I wasn't paying attention when you were speaking Italian. I wasn't even listening. But you switched. I guess you thought I could be Grandma Tessa, who also speaks Italian. You sure as hell wouldn't want her hearing your little plan for my future."


She felt as angry about his assumption that she wouldn't understand him as she did about what he'd said. That bothered her for a second until she realized it was safe to be furious about the language he'd chosen. She wouldn't kill him over that.


"I heard you," she told him. "I heard every word. You lied. You deliberately lied. How dare you? You're not here to marry me, you're here to take my son."

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