I Married A Prince. Kathryn Jensen

press corps would have a field day. But if she could actually prove the child was Prince Jacob’s bastard, all hell would break loose in Elbia. She’d have to be paid off, and handsomely. A million dollars to silence her and support the child wouldn’t be too much.

      Jacob understood that his father, his cabinet and royal advisers wouldn’t object to his sowing his proverbial oats as long as he did so discreetly, with no embarrassing repercussions. During his late teen years and throughout his twenties, he’d had frequent opportunities to practice discretion. He quickly learned that money and fame were powerful aphrodisiacs. Women were more than willing to share their bodies with him, just to say they’d slept with a real prince. And he was generous during his brief affairs. He bought his lovers expensive gifts—jewelry, cars, expensive clothing. One charming lady had even merited a profitable boutique on the Rue de la Seine in Paris, in return for a few months’ companionship. If they were at all disappointed when he left them, they didn’t complain. His parting gifts had a consoling effect.

      Alli had been different.

      The day in June when he’d met her on the beach, he’d somehow sensed she wasn’t the kind of girl to be impressed by a title or seeing a lot of cash thrown her way. There was a quality about her that transcended the world he’d come to know. She smiled, and his heart warmed. She laughed, and he felt life was simple and free of the stifling obligations that awaited him back home in Elbia.

      Alli loved books and worked in a library. Books had been his only friends as he’d grown up in a cold, friendless castle overlooking the valley of his homeland. He felt good around her. He felt like a normal man—not someone whose destiny was determined at birth, who had no choice in career or home or mate.

      He had chosen her for a few weeks of love and friendship and he’d been so happy living in her world, if only for that short time.

      Unlike all the other times, he had not told his mistress who he was. He was sure that if he had, Alli wouldn’t have become involved with him or allowed him to stay. For then she’d understand he couldn’t remain with her, even if he’d wanted to. That was where he’d most cruelly deceived her. He’d known she was falling in love with him. He’d known he was going to have to hurt her. But he hadn’t been man enough to stay and see her tears when he said goodbye.

      As he thought about these things, Jacob started the car and began driving. He didn’t pay much attention to where the road was taking him until he steered into the marina’s parking lot. He left the car for the valet to park, waved down the launch and climbed aboard. He pointed at the Queen Elise, then stood in the bow, ignoring the pleasant chatter of the young man who piloted the water taxi to the larger ships anchored offshore. All the while, Jacob kicked himself for looking up Alli again.

      Before today, he’d been haunted by her in ways he couldn’t have explained to himself and wouldn’t have even tried to rationalize for Thomas, Frederik or his father. There had been women after Alli, but they hadn’t excited him as she had. Thoughts of her had unexpectedly come to him at the worst possible moments—interfering with his ability to enjoy intimacy or make important decisions that would affect his future.

      By seeing her again, he’d hoped to put his head right. Get her out of his system, as he’d told Thomas. She’d be fifty pounds heavier and totally out of shape. She’d have married a brute of a trucker with a pierced nose...be saddled with two whiny brats who, sadly, resembled their beerguzzling dad.

      But she wasn’t any of those things. She was as sweet and innocent and perfect as when they’d been together. And she turned him on something fierce whenever they touched, even more so when they’d kissed. He wasn’t over her, he thought dismally. Not by a long shot.

      But far worse, he’d learned he had a son. And that was a problem he couldn’t walk away from.

      Alli might swear to him that she’d never make the paternity of her child public knowledge, and she probably would keep that promise. But what if some snoopy reporter got hold of the information despite her vow of silence? What if someone close to Alli decided there was money to be made by selling her secret?

      All of that aside, Jacob didn’t know if he could be low enough to turn his back on a child he’d created. Just the thought of having a son drew emotions from him he didn’t know he had. Pride...concern...responsibility...The others were far too confusing to even begin to analyze.

      He slumped against a crate being ferried to one of the boats in the cove as the sleek launch zipped between expensive pleasure boats, heading for the one that dwarfed all the rest, the Queen Elise. He remembered he hadn’t taken Alli’s package with him, then shrugged. What did it matter now? Whether or not she accepted his gift or came to his party was the least of his worries.

      

      

      Alli stood over Cray’s crib, looking tenderly down at her son as he napped. A wave of such intense emotion washed over her, its force nearly knocked her off of her feet. She loved the little boy, as any mother loved her child. But now she feared for him, as she feared for herself.

      Jacob.

      Why had he come back?

      He had acted surprised when Cray started crying in his bedroom. Had that reaction been an honest one? Or had he known all along that she had given birth to his child?

      An icy shiver curled through her. Of course, a man like Jacob had all sorts of ways of keeping track of people. What if he’d been informed of Cray’s existence many months ago? What if he was only now getting around to coming to Connecticut to claim his son?

      The possibility terrified her.

      But there was something wrong with that reasoning, she told herself. If having a son meant anything to him, why had he waited so long? Why hadn’t he shown up while she’d been pregnant? During those trying emotional months, she’d been at her weakest. She’d been so very afraid she wouldn’t know how to take care of a child, and wouldn’t be capable of supporting herself and Cray on her meager pay. If Jacob had known she was about to have his baby, why hadn’t he shown up then?

      Maybe he was up to something far worse than she’d imagined. He wanted something from her, or he wouldn’t have come back. Until she knew exactly what that was, she wouldn’t be able to protect herself or her son from him.

      After draping a light blanket over Cray and touching his fuzzy little head one last time, Allison slowly made her way out to the kitchen at the back of the house. She brewed herself a cup of hot tea and took it into the living room. There, on the floor, sat the large dark mauve box Jacob had brought earlier.

      Allison sat on the couch, staring speculatively at the unmarked package while she sipped her tea. I don’t care what’s in there, she thought. It’s going back.

      But how? she asked herself. She could pay someone to take the thing back to him on his stupid boat. But why should she go to the expense when money was already tight? What she should do was shove the unopened box in the trash. That would show him!

      But the thrifty New Englander in Allison wouldn’t allow her to throw away a perfectly good...perfectly good what? What would she be throwing away?

      She glared at the box, imagining something evil and threatening lurking inside the innocent-looking but interestingly colored cardboard. Pandora’s box—the classic tease. Why was he doing this to her? Had he intentionally left the thing to torment her, knowing she couldn’t stop herself from opening it?

      Acting on impulse, Allison set her mug on the coffee table and stood up. She approached the box warily, from the side, as if afraid something alive might leap out of it at any moment, baring its fangs at her. Reaching down, she slipped her fingers inside one flap and tore the box open.

      Three

      Her hands trembling, Allison bent back the four cardboard flaps, then parted layer after layer of distinctive rose-and-gold tissue paper. She recognized the color and pattern of the wrapping materials. They had come from a posh Manhattan clothier. She and Diane had once dared each other