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Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride
Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride
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Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride

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‘Good evening, Indigo,’ he said softly, and she fled.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0d419a31-57a8-5760-90a7-ec2bc8117c56)

INDIGO WASN’T IN the breakfast room when Lorenzo came downstairs, the next morning. And when he casually mentioned her name, Gus just smiled. ‘She’s even more of a workaholic than you are. She’ll have been in her workroom since the crack of dawn.’

Lorenzo knew that he ought to be sensible and avoid Indigo. But the attraction from last night hadn’t gone away. So he couldn’t resist taking a detour to the kitchen, making her a mug of coffee and wandering casually into her workroom. Just to say hello, he told himself. There couldn’t be any harm in that. Could there?

Today Indigo was back to wearing shapeless clothes and having her hair pinned back, and she was also wearing a pair of safety goggles. This had to be the most unsexy outfit in the world. And yet Lorenzo was aware of every drop of blood thrumming through his veins when she glanced up from her work and saw him.

‘I thought you might like this,’ he said, and handed her the mug. ‘Milk, no sugar.’

‘Thank you.’ She pushed the goggles up on top of her head. ‘How do you know how I like my coffee?’

‘I noticed yesterday at dinner,’ he said. He’d been taught from an early age to notice the details. ‘Do you need a hand with anything?’ It was a stupid question, and he knew it even as the words came out.

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but, apart from the fact that my work needs specialist training, I work with acids, flux, a hot soldering iron, sharp blades and glass—all things that could do serious damage to you.’

‘I guess so.’

‘Even if I didn’t have bad intentions towards you—and, just for the record if you happen to be wired and your security team’s listening, I don’t—there’s still the risk of an accident. My insurance company would have a hissy fit at the idea.’

He liked the fact that she’d clearly thought this through. Though it also surprised him that Indigo Moran had such a deeply conventional side, given the dress she’d worn last night. ‘And that bothers you? I thought you had a reputation for being a free spirit.’

‘Which isn’t the same as being reckless and stupid,’ she said. ‘What do you expect me to do—jump into a lake and pull you in with me?’

He laughed. ‘Point taken. No, I don’t think you’re stupid.’ He paused. ‘So can I watch you work, today?’ he asked.

She looked surprised. ‘Are you really interested in glass, are you being polite, or are you just bored and at a bit of a loose end?’

He liked her plain speaking. But either they could spend all day fencing, or he could come clean. Given how little time he had left here, he chose the latter option. ‘It’s an excuse to spend time with you. And I have a feeling it might be the same for you, too.’

She looked wary. ‘I’m not so sure that it’s a good idea.’

At least she hadn’t denied that she wanted to spend time with him. So he could be just as honest with her. ‘I know it isn’t a good idea,’ he said softly.

She said nothing, just looked even warier.

‘If I wasn’t who I am, would your answer be different?’

‘Probably,’ she admitted.

‘Do you have any idea how refreshing it was yesterday,’ he said, ‘to have someone backchat me and treat me like a normal person, for once?’

‘Poor little rich boy,’ she said, folding her arms and giving him a pointed look.

He grinned. ‘And you’re still doing it. I like you, Indigo. I think you like me. What’s the harm in two people getting to know each other?’

‘As you pointed out yesterday, you’re used to the paparazzi following you. You have a security team looking after you. You’re not just a normal person. If anyone wants to get to know you, or you want to get to know someone, then the whole world will know about it.’

‘This is a private house,’ he said.

‘Which is open to the public,’ she reminded him.

‘Who won’t be expecting to see me—they might think, oh, that man sitting by the table over there looks a bit like that Prince Lorenzo guy, but they’ll think no more than that.’

‘What if they do recognise you?’

‘They won’t,’ he said confidently. ‘It’s like when that famous violin player busked on the metro in Washington DC a few years ago, playing a Stradivarius. People weren’t expecting a famous musician to be busking on the metro with one of the most expensive instruments in the world, so they didn’t recognise him and hardly anyone stopped to listen to what he was playing. It’s all about context.’

‘You,’ she said, ‘are just used to getting your own way all the time.’

‘Not all the time.’

‘Did you get an A star in persistence lessons at prince school?’ she asked.

He laughed. ‘There isn’t such a thing as prince school. Besides, you know very well I went to the same school as Gus.’

‘In a different country, and when you were still very young,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Not as young as you were when you went to boarding school—I was eleven.’ And how he’d missed his family. Thought it had been good practice for his stiff upper lip. ‘I know this is crazy,’ he said. ‘I just want to spend a bit of time with you. I have a free day, but I know you’re working, so maybe I could make myself useful. Kind of multi-tasking.’

She scoffed. ‘You’re telling me that a man can multi-task?’

‘Don’t be sexist.’ He grinned at her. ‘I learned how to multi-task at prince school.’

She laughed, then. ‘Says the man who claims that prince school doesn’t exist.’

‘They’re not formal lessons, exactly, but over the years I’ve been taught about the importance of diplomacy and how to...’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I was going to say, how to handle people, but I think you might take that the wrong way.’

Her blush was gratifying. ‘Yes. I would.’

‘I don’t mean manhandle,’ he said softly. ‘That’s not who I am. I’m not expecting you to fall into my arms because I’m about to become the King of Melvante. But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I think it’s the same for you, too. That kiss, last night...’ He paused. ‘I don’t behave like that. I don’t usually act on impulse and I definitely don’t do insta-lust. I’m pretty sure you don’t, either.’

‘No.’ Again, she blushed. Telling him that maybe, just maybe, it was different with him.

‘It would be sensible if we just stayed out of each other’s way. But I can’t do that. Something about you...’ He blew out a breath. ‘OK. I’ll shut up and stop distracting you now.’

‘Maybe,’ she said quietly, ‘if you wear goggles, that’ll be enough to disguise you. And you need to wear goggles anyway if you’re going to be on this side of the rope. I don’t want you to get a glass splinter or dust in your eye. And you need gloves, too, if you’re going to work with me.’ She reached under her table and rummaged around in a box. ‘Try these.’

They fitted perfectly. Which was a sign, of sorts, he thought. ‘They’re fine.’

‘OK.’ She handed him a pair of protective glasses, and he put them on.

‘What do you need me to do?’ he asked.

‘Help me clean the lead cames. That’d be easy to teach you.’

‘I’d like that,’ he said. It was so far away from his normal life that it really was like having a rest.

He watched her work, fascinated by how neatly and quickly she worked to remove the stained glass from the leads without damaging the fragile glass or the soft metal. And he noticed how she labelled everything before putting it in a specific place and then photographing it.

‘I assume that’s to be sure everything goes back in the right place?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘Plus I’m documenting everything that I do, so the next time the glass needs work the restorer will know exactly what I’ve done and how.’

Her work was methodical, neat and efficient. She was good at giving instructions, too; when she showed him how to clean the leads, she gave him an old piece of lead from her box of tricks under her desk so he could practise first, and corrected his technique without making him feel stupid. Lorenzo liked the fact that she was so direct and clear.

And when the house opened to the public, he discovered that Indigo was far from being the socially inept nerd she’d claimed to be. She was seriously good with people; she was patient, charming, and he noticed that she assessed them swiftly so she could work out whether they wanted a quick and simple answer, or if they’d prefer a longer and more detailed explanation.

Lorenzo noticed how patient Indigo was, never once making her questioners feel stupid or a nuisance. If anything, she went out of her way to make them feel appreciated.

Funny, all the formal training he’d had in diplomacy didn’t even begin to approach this. Indigo was a natural with people, warm and open, and the rigidity of boarding school clearly hadn’t left its mark on her. Lorenzo knew that she could teach him a lot, just by letting him shadow her. And maybe if he could focus on that, on the way that Indigo could help him prepare for his new role, it would stop him thinking of her in a different context. One that would cause too many problems for both of them.

* * *

Once the crowds had left, Lorenzo fetched them both some more coffee.

She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Thank you—that’s really kind of you. Sorry, I’m afraid I’ve rather ignored you this afternoon.’

‘You were busy working and talking to visitors,’ he said. ‘And I have to say, I’m impressed by how at ease you are with people.’

She looked surprised. ‘But you’re a prince. You have to talk to people all the time. Aren’t you at ease with them?’

‘Not in the same way that you are,’ he admitted. ‘You have this natural empathy.’ And, because he was so used to formality, he had to work at being at ease with people. Which pretty much negated the point.

‘I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that sort of thing at prince school.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny.’

‘I still think you’d make an awesome model for a stained-glass angel,’ she said. ‘Though I can understand why you don’t want to sit for me.’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t. In another life,’ he said softly, ‘I’d sit for you with pleasure.’ And he’d enjoy watching her sketch him, seeing the way she caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth when she was concentrating. And then maybe afterwards...

‘But in this life it’d be a PR nightmare,’ she said, going straight to the root of the matter. ‘The new King of Melvante has to be squeaky clean.’

‘Yes.’ Until he’d met Indigo, that hadn’t been a problem. But Indigo Moran made him want to break every single one of his rules and then some. To stop himself thinking about it, and to distract her from probing his thoughts too deeply, he made an exaggerated squeaking noise. ‘Like this.’

She laughed. And, to his relief, everything felt smooth and light and sparkly again.

‘I’d better let you get on. You’ve had enough distractions for today.’

She smiled at him again. ‘You can stay if you want to.’

Tempting. So very, very tempting. And he wanted to spend more time with Indigo. He liked this side of her, the fun and the carefree feeling he didn’t normally have time for.

But he really needed to let his common sense get back in charge. Preferably right now. He was supposed to be preparing for his new role, not acting on impulse and indulging himself. ‘Thanks, but I’ll see you later, OK?’ And then, hopefully, the next time he saw her he’d be back in sensible mode and he’d be able to treat her as just another acquaintance. He could be charming and witty, but he could keep his emotions totally in check.

And what he needed more than anything else, right now, was a little time at the ancient grand piano in the library.

Now the visitors had gone and the house was back to being fully private, the family dogs had the free run of the place again, so a couple of minutes after Lorenzo had settled at the piano he discovered that Toto, an elderly golden Labrador he’d known since puppyhood, was leaning against his leg. Just like home, except with a bigger dog, he thought with a smile, and reached down to ruffle the dog’s fur. And then he lost himself in the music.

* * *

Indigo could hear piano music. Which was odd, because she had a very quiet cello concerto playing on her iPod. She reached over and paused the track, and listened again. Definitely a piano, but not something she recognised.

The piece stopped, and there was silence for a moment, before a snatch of something, and then a pause and a few bars of something else, as if someone was trying to decide what to play next.

Curious, Indigo made sure that all her electrical equipment was turned off and her pots of acid all had lids on, and went in search of the music. As she neared the library, the music got louder. She paused in the doorway of the library. Lorenzo was sitting at the piano; from her vantage point, she could see that his eyes were closed as he was playing.

In another life, she thought, this could’ve been his career. Though he didn’t have the luxury of choice.

When he’d finished, she clapped softly, and Lorenzo opened his eyes and stared at her in surprise.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘I heard the music,’ she said simply.

He grimaced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘I was going to have a break anyway.’ She paused. ‘You’re very good.’

‘Thank you.’

Lorenzo accepted the compliment gracefully, even a little bit shyly. Indigo had the strongest feeling that this was a part of himself that he normally kept hidden. She couldn’t resist asking, ‘Would you play some more for me?’

‘I...’ He gave her another of those shy smiles that made her heart contract. ‘Sure, if you want. Take a seat.’

She heeled off her shoes and curled up on a corner of the battered leather chesterfield sofa. The Labrador came over and put a paw on one of the cushions, clearly intending to lever himself up next to her.

‘Toto, you bad hound, you know you’re not allowed on the furniture,’ she scolded him.

The dog gave her a mournful look and she sighed and slid off the chesterfield onto the floor. ‘All right, then, I’ll come down and sit with you.’

He wagged his tail, licked her face and then sprawled over her.

‘And you’re much too big to be a lapdog,’ she said, but she rubbed the dog’s tummy anyway and he gave her a look of absolute bliss.

‘You like dogs?’ Lorenzo asked. Then he rolled his eyes. ‘That was a stupid question, because the answer’s obvious.’

‘I love them. But my work takes me all over the place and not everyone’s comfortable with dogs, so I can’t have one of my own. I come and borrow Lottie and Gus’s every so often.’ She paused. ‘I see you didn’t mind Toto leaning against your leg while you were playing. I take it you like dogs, too?’

He nodded. ‘I have dogs at home, but mine are a little smaller than Toto.’

She grinned. ‘Prince Lorenzo, please don’t tell me you have a Chihuahua.’

‘And carry it around with me in a basket?’ He laughed. ‘No. We have various spaniels. And although they’re nearly as old as Toto, they’re not quite as well behaved. They sneak up onto the furniture as soon as you’ve looked away. Especially Caesar. He’s my shadow when I’m at home.’

And she could tell that he didn’t really mind. Which made him seem so much more human. A king who didn’t necessarily expect all his subjects to obey him and would indulge an elderly and much-loved dog.