The Irresistible Prince. Lisa Laurel Kaye

Lucas had started pacing again by the time the huge grandfather clock in the castle entry hall chimed quarter to eight. The relief he had felt when Annah Lane had told him that she would help him had faded in the few hours since he had left her house and come here to the castle at the tip of the Point. While he had slept off the worst of his jet lag, showered and dressed for dinner, a renewed sense of urgency had crept back in.

      He had wanted to talk strategy immediately, but she had suggested that they do it over dinner. Even that slight delay in getting the process rolling was frustrating for him, but then, he had been hashing all this over for ten months. It made sense to give her a few hours to do the same.

      The sound of his echoing footsteps received the sudden punctuation of a ring at the front doorbell. He swung open the heavy front door. “Good evening, Miss Lane,” he greeted her.

      “Good evening, Your Highness,” she answered. She was carrying a large, two-handled pot, which she set down on an antique table in the entry hall.

      “What’s that?” he asked, looking puzzled.

      “Dinner,” she said succinctly. She disappeared out the door again, heading for the car that was parked in the front drive, and fished a couple of large paper bags out of the trunk.

      “Did you make dinner?” he asked when she returned.

      “Of course,” she said, sounding surprised at his surprise. “I told you I would.”

      He had assumed that her offer to “take care of dinner” meant that she was going to order the meal from a restaurant and arrange for its delivery. “You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble.”

      “It’s no trouble,” she said, smiling as if that were true while she breezed past him. “Grab that pot for me, would you?” she called over her shoulder.

      What could he do? He picked up the pot and carried it obediently into the kitchen.

      “Just set it on one of the back burners,” she said as she put the bags on the counter. If her voice sounded breathy, she hoped he would think it was from lugging dinner up the stone steps out front. The truth was that she had once more been thrown off balance simply by being near him, although she wasn’t sure why. A woman who was nearly thirty ought to be able to be in the presence of a handsome prince without having her backbone begin to melt. That she had never felt this way around Prince Erik or Prince Whit must be because they were “hometown” princes. Their mother had been from Anders Point, and the two of them were no strangers to the town when they stayed here in their family’s castle.

      If she felt differently around Prince Lucas, she would just have to get over it. She reminded herself of the deep bond she had felt between them before he had left her coffee shop. Making his dream come true was what mattered. And if she was going to help him, she couldn’t be walking on eggshells around him just because he was royalty. Not if her plan was going to work.

      She was starting to struggle out of her jacket when his voice came from close behind her, soft and low. “Allow me.”

      She kept her back to him while he helped her off with her jacket, chiding herself for her weak-kneed reaction to his performing this small courtesy for her. While he left the room with it, she busied herself getting dinner underway. “I have a few things to finish up,” she told him when he returned.

      He had that slight frown that she was becoming familiar with. “What with preparing this meal, Miss Lane, have you had any time to think about my situation?”

      He was direct, she had to give him that. She looked up from the pot she was stirring. “I do my best thinking when I’m cooking,” she told him with a smile.

      “Then by all means, cook,” he said briskly. He stood next to her at the counter, which had the effect of totally disrupting her thinking. It was just the feel of his nearness, because she had to look out of the corner of her eye to see him—not that she was sure that was a great idea, either. He had been born a prince...did he have to be so darned attractive, too? The man was a walking woman-magnet even without a wedding deadline, and Annah could well imagine the world’s social climbers climbing all over each other to get at him. There weren’t women like that here in Anders Point, but even here they would act differently around him, less comfortably, knowing he was a prince. That was just human nature. Annah knew her plan was right on target. But she wasn’t about to just blurt it out. She had a feeling it would be better to get him used to the idea gradually.

      “Nice castle, isn’t it?” she asked conversationally.

      “Yes,” he answered. “It is not large, but it is beautifully sited up here on this bluff.”

      “As a place used only for their stays in America, I suppose the Anders family didn’t need it to be large. And it will be plenty big enough for Whit and Drew to live in after they return from their honeymoon. Lexi is thrilled about moving in here.”

      He seemed to smile slightly at the mention of his friend’s six-year-old daughter, but merely said, “I was glad of Whit’s offer to let me stay here while I am in town.”

      That was the opening Annah was looking for. He wouldn’t be staying in the castle long, if she had her way. “By the way, no one else knows you’re here, do they?”

      He seemed a bit surprised by her change of subject, but answered her question. “Besides the Anders family? No one except you...and my staff, of course.”

      “But no one here in town,” she clarified. “I mean, it was dark when you left my place, and you drove away in a nondescript sedan.”

      He nodded. His chauffeur, who was also his bodyguard, insisted on it, for security reasons. He only used a limo for public occasions.

      “After that, did you come right here to the castle?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did anyone walk by while you were on my porch?”

      He gave her a puzzled look. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

      “And I know the girls I was waiting on didn’t really get a good look at you,” she said positively. “So you see, I am the only one in town who knows that you—that Prince Lucas of the Constellation Isles is here.”

      His frown deepened. “You think that’s important?”

      “Of course,” she said. As an afterthought she added, “Don’t you?”

      He didn’t. Wasn’t she aware that once other people saw him, they would recognize him? He expected that. It went with the territory.

      Her question dangled intriguingly. He didn’t answer, and she didn’t elaborate, but turned her attention to the food. “The salad is all ready now, so I’ll just slice up the bread.”

      Lucas stood aside, watching her. “When I asked you to dinner, I had no intention of your cooking and serving it,” he said.

      “I enjoy cooking,” she said, putting the bread into a basket that she had pulled out of one of the upper cabinets. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking of expanding my coffee shop hours and serving lunch, also. It’s nice having a guinea pig to try out my new recipes.”

      No one had ever had the cheek to refer to him as a guinea pig before, and oddly enough, Lucas found he didn’t mind. But it still felt awkward, having his guest prepare her own dinner. Standing out of her way as she bustled about, he observed, “You seem to be familiar with this kitchen.”

      “Julie lived here as the caretaker for a year before she married Prince Erik,” she said, pulling a bunch of flowers out of one of the bags. “She and I are friends.”

      Which apparently gave them intimate knowledge of each other’s kitchens. He was not wise in the ways of feminine friendships, but found himself admiring the feminine grace of her movements as she worked. Bending under one counter she picked out some sort of glass container and, with a few deft moves, began arranging the flowers in it. She placed the bloom-filled bowl in the center of the big wooden