The Blacksheep Prince's Bride

Then he realized that wasn’t what he wanted to do at all. What he really wanted to do was convince her of his innocence. He wanted her to believe in him, to believe he wasn’t capable of killing anyone, much less his uncle. Even one he’d never met.

Damn. This definitely was not starting out well.

Rowena was the first to look away. “What time would you like dinner?”

Her question startled him. “You’re going to cook?”

She nodded. “Mrs. Hanson left as soon as I arrived this afternoon. I think she was a bit miffed that you left Sammy with her.”

A spy who cooked? That was unique…unless she was planning to poison him. But he didn’t think she was here to do away with him, just to see what he knew about the king’s disappearance.

“I know she was upset with me, but I didn’t arrange for yet another baby-sitter because I thought you’d be moved in by noon.”

“I’m sorry. Something came up with Isabel.”

“I understand.”

Jake pressed a thumb into his temple. The strain really was getting to him. Rowena was no spy. She was a lady-in-waiting, a glorified maid who happened to be very good with children. She was here as a nanny, not a spy.

That was why they had him up at the palace the best part of every day. So the ones who were qualified could watch him in the comfort of their own home.

“You don’t have to cook. Why don’t you go get yours and Sammy’s things and we’ll go to a restaurant. Know a good one?”

She stared at him as if he’d turned blue. “You want me to come with you?”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…Why?”

Her amazement surprised him. Surely she’d gone to fancy restaurants on all her high-powered dates. “I don’t know. Because you’re hungry?”

She cocked her face and peered at him sideways. “I’d rather cook, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fine. I just wanted to save you the trouble. You’ve been with Sammy all afternoon, and I know how exhausting that can be.” He butted Sammy’s knee with a fist. “No offense, little guy.”

Sammy giggled.

“I’m fine,” Rowena insisted. “And don’t worry. I won’t poison you. I cooked all my father’s meals after my mother died when I was twelve. I’m quite a good cook.”

“I didn’t think…” He glanced away guilty. The thought had occurred to him. “Never mind.”

Her words relieved the last vestiges of suspicion, and Jake’s stomach chose that moment to grumble about not eating since breakfast.

Rowena chuckled, and finally relaxed. “It’s not your mind that’s complaining.”

“You really don’t have to cook, you know.”

“Tell that to your stomach.” With a hand on Sammy’s bottom, she pushed him to his feet. “Sammy and I laid out everything in the kitchen. It will only take half an hour.”

Since she was determined, Jake rose and held out a hand.

She paused with both hands on the floor, glanced at his hand, then up at him.

“It won’t poison you,” he said softly.

She didn’t retort, or even smile. After a noticeable hesitation, she gingerly placed her hand in his.

Jake wrapped his long fingers around her slender hand and pulled her to her feet. Her weight was so slight and he was feeling so unnerved, he miscalculated and pulled with enough force to yank her against him.

“Oh,” they said in unison.

She lifted her head, then they both went still.

Her startled golden gaze mesmerized him, narrowing his awareness to the space around them. Her lips could be featured in an ad for collagen injections. They were lusciously moist and slightly parted in surprise. Her breathing was shallow and rapid.

She trembled ever so slightly in his arms. With fear? Desire? Both?

Jake could feel her left fist digging into his chest. Her right hand was still captured in his left. Her slight weight leaned into him, one leg braced between his.

He wanted to do far more than kiss her, and the feeling jarred him back to reality.

He couldn’t touch her. She was too much like Annette.

She stepped back a second before he let her go.

Without glancing up, she murmured, “Sorry. I’ll…I’ll…Oh yes. I’ll go prepare dinner.”

He watched as she fled the room.

Her discomfiture told him two things. She was attracted to him as well, and she was fighting it just as hard.

The only reason for that he could come up with was that he didn’t have a title.

“Daddy, play with me.”

Jake turned his attention to his son, convinced he’d done the right thing.

Rowena knocked softly, then pushed open the door between the dining room and the parlor with the intention of telling Jake and Sammy their dinner was ready.

Instead, she hesitated.

Father and son were sitting together in a burgundy damask wingback chair by a window open to let in a soft spring breeze and the sound of the surf below. The last rays of the sun caught the side of Jake’s face, making the strong lines seem even more angular.

Jake’s long legs were stretched out on an ottoman as he concentrated on a stack of papers in his lap. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and tucked his son into the crook of his left arm.

Sammy’s little legs barely reached the end of the chair cushion. His attention was riveted on a book laid open across his own lap. He turned the pages slowly and carefully.

Rowena’s face relaxed into a smile. What a heartwarming picture they made. A loving father and an adoring son.

How could such a man have kidnapped the king? His very own uncle? Family seemed important to Jake. She’d never seen a father as attentive as he was to Sammy. And though his overtures were hesitant, he took every opportunity to spend time with his newfound cousins.

Was that all for show?

Rowena shook away the tender feelings.

Jake was a suspect in the king’s disappearance. That’s what she had to concentrate on—trying to find evidence that would incriminate him, which would exonerate Isabel’s brother, Nicholas.

Rowena had promised Isabel she’d search high and low for evidence…but now that she was here, she found it difficult to believe Jake capable of such a crime—which meant she had to concentrate doubly hard on her purpose in being here.

Even if she hadn’t already known, the incident earlier had proven she was strongly attracted to Jake. She’d almost pushed up on her toes and kissed the man…right there in front of Sammy.

Her stupid attraction was the reason she didn’t believe he was guilty. She didn’t want to believe it. That, and the unhappy realization that finding Jake guilty—a man who loved his son so much—would leave Sammy fatherless.

Concentrating wasn’t going to be easy. When she’d felt his obvious reaction to her lying on top of him, all she could think of was wiggling her way up his body and planting her lips on his. Thank God he’d held her in place. Though she’d enjoyed the intimacy of his hands on her derriere, the caress had distracted her long enough for her to pull her wits together and stop.

Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t?

He wanted her. That was plain enough. After he’d pulled her to her feet, he’d almost kissed her. She was as certain of that as she was of her name.

But he didn’t want to want her—and his sarcastic question had told her why.

You’re never forward, are you, Miss Wilde?

He didn’t trust her because of her reputation.

Rowena’s nails dug into her palms.

How long would Prince Heinrich’s duplicity haunt her?

She’d given her heart to the royal rake from Leuvendan five years ago. He’d visited often back then, wooing her passionately. But when she wouldn’t sleep with him, he became angry and told everyone that she had anyway, giving them ugly, nasty details from his sick imagination.

That incident, it seemed, had branded her for life. Edenbourg—especially the palace—was a small place. Everyone knew everyone else’s secrets…and never forgot.

Many men who came to Edenbourg wanted to date her—either despite her reputation or because of it. She went out with some of them, mostly to keep Isabel happy. But she never slept with a single one—partly to prove she was not the wanton everyone thought her, partly because she just didn’t want to.

However, her celibacy didn’t help. A few of the men were too honorable to talk about their relationship, but most were too egocentric to let everyone think the woman who slept with everyone else wouldn’t sleep with them.

She couldn’t win.

Although…

In this situation, perhaps her undeserved reputation would protect her. She was far too attracted to Jake. Though good fathers weren’t often rakes, he was still royal. At least, close enough to count.

She’d promised herself that she’d never fall in love again…but especially not with a royal, or any man with a title. They were too self-absorbed, too accustomed to getting their own way.

So, let him believe she was “forward.”

As for her, she had to focus on the task she had to perform for her country, for Isabel.

It didn’t matter that the task came with shoulders as wide as the horizon, sky-blue eyes capable of peering all the way into her soul, and chiseled lips that demanded, “Kiss me.”

Those lips might also be capable of saying, “Kill him,” to some thug as he looked a king straight in the eye.

Rowena shivered.

She hated this house. It was always cold.

Chapter Two

Later that evening, Jake held Sammy’s door open for Rowena.

She tiptoed out and waited for him to close it softly.

He turned and looked down at her in the dim light of the hallway. Though they hadn’t been in the same room since dinner, he’d felt her presence in the house all evening. A subtle awareness, a whiff of her lingering scent, a trill of laughter from another end of the house.

He was aware of her now, intensely, as he’d been while they’d put Sammy to bed.

“Goodnight, Mr. Stanbury,” she said with a nervous smile, then turned to leave.

“It’s only eight-thirty,” he said quickly, reluctant to let her go. “Surely you’re not turning in so early?”

She lifted a slender shoulder. “I have a book in my room.”

He waved a hand toward the stairs. “I’m going to work in the library. You’re welcome to read down there.”

She glanced toward the stairs, then back at him. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips, as if she were remembering the kiss they’d almost shared that afternoon.

He hadn’t been able to think about anything else all evening. And if she came with him to the library, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his work.

Why had he asked her?

Because he didn’t want to concentrate on his work. The zing in his blood, put there by the presence of this small woman, was infinitely more interesting than international trade briefs.

“No, I shouldn’t.” Her words sounded breathless.

He should just let her go, but he couldn’t. “Why not?”

She seemed surprised that he pushed it. “It’s just not a good idea.”

Let it go, Jake. Let her go. “Why not?”

She frowned at him. “Because you’re a prince and I’m a servant. That kind of…fraternization is frowned upon.”

“Perhaps a hundred years ago, but not today.”

“We don’t do things here the way you do in the United States. Here, we treat our royalty like royalty.” She squared her shoulders. “Besides, I want to concentrate on my book. I think I’ve guessed who the murderer is and he’s about to be revealed. So goodnight, Mr. Stanbury. Have a pleasant evening.”

She spun on her heel and walked down the hall to the next room, which was now hers. He watched her every stiff step of the way.

Just as she opened the door, he said, “It’s Jake, Rowena. Remember that.”

At his words, she hesitated just long enough for him to know she had to make herself go into her room.

When her door closed with a loud click, he headed down the stairs.

“Daddy! Guess what?”

Rowena glanced over her shoulder as she reached for the coffeepot…and caught her breath.

Tousled and unshaven, Jake stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at her blankly. “Oh. Rowena. I forgot…I heard noise down here and thought Sammy was trying to make breakfast himself. Mrs. Hanson only cooks lunch and dinner.”

He was dressed only in pajama bottoms. Since they weren’t rumpled, Rowena knew that he’d thrown them on to rush downstairs…which meant he slept in the nude.

She swallowed with difficulty. That was a little too much information for her comfort zone.

Her gaze wandered over the light mat of dark hair covering his broad, well-defined chest. “I…” She had to swallow to open her suddenly constricted throat. “I know.”

The only place she’d ever seen such a beautiful body on a man was in the pages of fashion magazines. Edenbourg’s rocky beaches were not exactly a mecca for sunbathers.

“Guess what, Daddy?” Sammy held up his plate. “Ena made me waffles. Booberry.”

“She did?” Jake frowned at his son, who had syrup all over his hands and mouth, then glanced up. “I usually fix breakfast.”

“I know.” Rowena couldn’t manage a more coherent answer. She could barely manage to breathe.

Though his eyes were slightly red and his hair hadn’t been combed, Jake was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Or was it because of his dishabille that he was sexy?

“Nothing this fancy, though. These look good.” Jake picked a bite of waffle from his son’s plate. “Oh yeah. These are great.”

“I know.”

“I usually just fix toast or something.”

Jake licked the syrup from his fingers, and Rowena couldn’t stop her eyes from following the movements. Her hands clenched, and she wondered what would it feel like to lick the sweetness off those long fingers herself. “I know.”

“Or fry up some toad tongues.”

“I—”

“Ewwww, Daddy!”

Rowena’s attention snapped back into place like a stretched rubber band…with the same sharp sting.

Jake leaned over Sammy, looking at her with one eyebrow lifted.

What was wrong with her? Never in her life had she had a thought like that. Lick syrup off a man’s fingers? What was she thinking?

The worst part was—Jake’s smile said he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

Damn.

“Or lizards’ gizzards.”

Sammy giggled. “You do not!”

“Or—”

“I get it.” Rowena fought the urge to touch her blazing cheeks. She’d been caught staring. She’d been around the palace long enough to know how rude—not to mention how dangerous—staring at a man was. She could either apologize or change the subject. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee?” He grinned knowingly, but took her bait. “Sure. Does it come with a waffle?”

She relaxed. “If you like. Plain or—”

“Any more booberries?”

Rowena smiled. She could certainly see where Sammy got his sense of fun. “If you like. But I have to warn you, they’re not fresh this time of year. They’re frozen.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. They taste good in the waffles.” She smiled as she poured him a cup of coffee, pleased by his compliment. “How many would you like?”

“Is two too many?”

“For a growing boy like you? I don’t think so.”

“Growing boy?” Sammy asked. “Daddy?”

Jake tousled his son’s hair and began pulling out a chair to sit down. “With many breakfasts like this, I’ll be doing plenty of growing…sideways.”

Rowena cleared her throat. “Two waffles will take me just long enough for you to shower and put on some clothes.” She placed the coffee in his hands. “You can take this with you.”

“Black?” He glanced up from the mug. “I like my coffee sweet.” He grinned. “Just like I like my—”

She cut him off. “Sugar is on the table. There’s cream in the icebox.”

“—waffles.”

Her eyes narrowed. What was he doing? Flirting with her? And what had last night been about? Read with him in the library? Sharing the space like a married couple?

“I’m sticky,” Sammy announced, drawing both their attention. “I’m gonna wash.”

Rowena pushed away from the counter. “I’ll come with—”

“No, Ena.” He paused at the door, placing his sticky hand on the jamb. “I’m a big boy. I do it.”

She watched her charge desert her.

“His third birthday is still three months away,” Jake said. “So he’s just beginning to make it out of the terrible twos. He’s as stubborn as…” He grinned. “…his dad.”

Uneasy alone with Jake, Rowena picked up a washcloth and walked over to wipe the syrup off the doorjamb.

Jake turned toward the icebox. “I’m sorry if I shocked you. I just couldn’t resist teasing. You seemed so surprised to discover that I have a chest.”

So he was teasing, not flirting. Thank God.

“I was…a little,” she admitted, but wouldn’t admit to herself even a trace of disappointment. “Men don’t wander around the palace half-naked, as a rule. Especially not the royals.”

Jake pulled open the door of the icebox—it had probably been bought when they still called them that—and reached inside for the cream. “How long have you worked there?”

“Since I was nineteen. Seven years.”

He poured a heavy dose of cream into his coffee. “Have you worked for Isabel the whole time?”

Rowena nodded. “I dreamed of working in the palace since I was little. Isabel needed a lady-in-waiting when she turned twenty-one, and my father knew someone on the palace staff who got me an interview. We clicked immediately, and I’ve been with her ever since.”

He heaped three teaspoons of sugar in his coffee and stirred thoughtfully. Without glancing up, he asked, “Any…fringe benefits?”

“Like what? Insurance? Paid vacations?”

His eyes were narrow when he looked up. He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “Never mind. Do you like the job?”

“Of course I do. Isabel has become a good friend.”

“Then why are you here?”

Rowena walked back to the sink to rinse out the dishcloth. She’d known this question was coming and had a ready answer. “I’m here because Sammy needs someone to take care of him. Someone who’s around more than the occasional sitter. Isn’t that why you asked for a nanny?”

“Yes…but why you?”

“There is a distinct shortage of qualified nannies in Edenbourg. Even baby-sitters, for that matter. Our unemployment rate is so low that our daycare workers are paid much higher than those in the States.”

“And just what are your qualifications?”

“You didn’t ask Isabel when she suggested to you that I come?”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Barrister.” She raised a brow to let him know she recognized his arrogance. “I worked in child care during secondary school. And…” she shrugged “…children seem to like me.”

“Sammy certainly does. I’m amazed at how much you’ve brought him out already.”

“Then why are you worried?”

Jake shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “I’m his father. It’s my job.”

She sighed. “I’m here because I like children. I really do like Sammy. And Isabel asked me to help, since you might be here a while. I’d do anything for her. She’s as dear to me as a sister.”

“I might be here a while.” Jake pounced on her offhand comment. “Why? Because I’m guilty?”

Rowena could’ve kicked herself. “Guilty of what?”

“Of kidnapping the king.”

The lawyer in Jake was definitely showing. Blunt, and to the point. “Did I say that?”

“Do you think it?”

She studied him across the oak table, and decided she could be just as blunt. “Are you?”

“No,” came the quick reply.

Rowena was amazed. Not because he denied it, because she believed him. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

“I’m not a citizen of this country, and evidence can be manufactured.”

She waved his concern away. “Edenbourg is not a third-world country ruled by a despot. We may have dungeons in our castles, but they haven’t been used in at least a hundred years.”

“But you—”

“I was told you’re working with Prince Nicholas on the revised trade agreement with the European Union, and that’s why you’ll be here a while.”

He did not look convinced. “You and I both know—”

“All clean.” Sammy held up his hands as he appeared in the doorway.

Rowena brightened with more relief than pride in Sammy’s accomplishment. “Great job. Want to help me fix your papa’s waffles?”

“Oh boy! I mash booberries, ’kay?”

Rowena dragged the step stool so Sammy could reach the counter. “Well, we don’t mash them. But you can pick out the best ones.”

The next time she glanced toward the door, Jake was gone.

Two days later, Jake settled back against the stone railing of the terrace overlooking the palace gardens and crossed his arms over his chest. He adopted this body language a lot, he’d noticed, when he was in the company of his father and brother.

He usually made a conscious effort to uncross everything, but within a few moments, something else was crossed.

“Jake, you’re not listening,” Edward Stanbury said.

Jake stifled a sigh. His father was as bad as his two-year-old, wanting attention focused on him at all times. The only problem was, his father was fifty-five. “Yes, I am. You’re agreeing with Luke that we shouldn’t support Nicholas’s position on the immigration clause.”

“You let a foreign underclass in,” Luke sniffed, “and you open yourself to all kinds of criminal activity.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Meanwhile, with an economy as strong as Edenbourg’s, menial jobs go begging for workers.”

“Yes, but what happens when the economy weakens?” his father argued. “Once you let these people in, it’s harder than hell to boot them out again.”

“And if you don’t have jobs to give them, you have to support them.” Luke lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Jake’s face. “They’re a liability any way you look at it.”

Jake didn’t flinch against his brother’s stream of smoke. He’d learned a long time ago it was best not to let Luke know he was getting under his skin. “They’re not always a liability. Having a full workforce will strengthen the economy, so it doesn’t get weak. Right now, Edenbourg is begging for workers in the lower-paying jobs. It’s worse here than in the States because, as a rule, Edenbourg citizens have a higher level of education.”

“You always were soft on…” Luke’s attention focused on something behind Jake. He whistled lecherously. “Now there’s something that’s not a liability…in any country.”

It had to be a sexy woman. Jake glanced over his shoulder. His brother was too predictable.

A woman was bent over a child at the edge of the small pond about a hundred yards away, giving them a view of a well-rounded rear end.

“Damn, they grow ’em right over here, don’t they?” Luke tossed down his cigarette. “I think I should go show that sweet young thing just how friendly Americans can be.”

The woman straightened then, and the sun glinted off deep red highlights in her dark hair.

Rowena.

Jake grabbed his brother’s arm. “That’s Sammy with his new nanny.”

“Well, I’ll be…” For once, Luke didn’t finish his vulgarity. “No wonder you’ve been antsy to go home the last couple of nights.”

“Isn’t that Princess Isabel’s lady-in-waiting?” Edward asked. “What’s her name?”

“Rowena Wilde.” Jake released his handful of Luke’s pinpoint cotton shirt. “And the reason I go home at night is to spend time with my son.”

“Yeah, right.” Luke grinned. “So when are you going to invite your father and brother home for supper? Is she a good cook, as well?”

“As a matter of fact, she—” Suddenly, Jake stiffened.

Rowena and Sammy were disappearing around the end of the pond, heading for an arbor swing on the other side. From his vantage point above the gardens, Jake could see something Rowena couldn’t.

Hidden by a hedgerow and running straight toward them was an enormous mastiff.