A Prince Of A Guy

That would happen here, too, and at the thought, her heart ached.

Caught by her own trap. Her own doing.

How had this happened?

This was supposed to be an escape. A little interlude in her life.

Only now she realized how others would be affected. Melissa.

Sean.

“Carly?”

God, that name. It represented all she wanted to be, open and free to do as she pleased. The opposite of Princess Carlyne Fortier, a woman tied by the bonds of responsibility and duty. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

An odd mix of disappointment and relief crossed his face. “We could buy you one.” He put two hands on the edge of the pool and with a flex of muscles that stole her breath, effortlessly pulled himself out of the water. Wet skin glimmered in the pale moonlight, and from the erotic position of sitting at his feet, she watched drop after drop run down the length of his body.

And what a body it was.

“Carly?”

She realized he’d said her name at least twice, and that he held out a hand.

Slipping hers in his, she let him pull her to her feet.

“About today,” he said quietly, not letting go of her hand, his intense gaze holding hers prisoner. “You seemed to be having a little trouble handling Melissa.”

Oh, God, he had noticed. “I’m sorry about your office,” she said.

“It survived.”

Barely. “Yeah. Nikki is great, you know. She helped me clean up.” Carlyne grimaced. “And then asked me not to visit you at work anymore.”

“Sounds like Nikki.” He grabbed his towel and started to dry off. “So…what happened?”

“It’s new to me, Melissa’s age.” Sidetracked, she watched him dry his chest, his legs. “She’s…very active.”

He went still. “Too active?”

“No. No, I can do this. I know I can.”

He straightened and tossed the towel aside. “Melissa said so, too. She said you’re nice. The highest compliment, really, as she doesn’t like many people these days.”

He’d asked Melissa about her. Was it because he worried he’d made a hasty decision? Or was Carlyne unconsciously transmitting her own doubts?

“One thing I keep wondering about.” He stepped a little closer. “You know computers. You were able to put mine back together with nothing more than a screwdriver and your wits.”

Another degree and another special talent of hers. But it wasn’t a passion, and it bored her.

“So how does a nanny know so much about hardware?”

“Oh, I picked up a little here and there.”

There was a stray strand of hair in her face. Not her hair, it was the wig, but Sean reached out and touched it, tucked it behind her ear.

Too close, she thought with a hitch in her breath that had everything to do with his nearness, and she backed up a step.

His hand, still hovering, abruptly dropped to his side. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s okay.” Do it again. Kiss me.

His eyes smoldered. “What?”

Oh God, she’d spoken out loud, but before she could say a word-and really, what could she say when she’d spoken the utter truth-Sean let out a rough laugh. “I must be crazy to give you a chance to change your mind.” He slipped a hand around her waist, his fingers stroking low on her spine, urging her even closer. His other hand curved around her neck, his fingers playing with the sensitive skin at her nape.

And his mouth, his beautiful, sexy mouth slowly descended to hers in a kiss that instantly stole her breath. He was still wet, enough that when she pressed herself against his tough, hard body, she became wet, too.

His hands molded her damp clothing to her body as he slid them over her, touching her waist, her ribs, cupping her bottom so he could rock against her.

And all the while, he continued to kiss her, using his lips, his tongue, even his teeth, nibbling and sucking her to such a mindless state that she might have given herself away if he hadn’t pulled back, breathing harshly.

“What else about you is going to be a surprise?” His mouth was wet from hers. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.

“N-nothing.”

“I doubt that. All I know is what you had on your resume, and what your references were able to tell me about your capabilities. Not much, really.”

And all fabricated. Which meant he really knew nothing about her.

“Carly?”

That name again, and she winced before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, willing him to understand. “I…don’t like to talk about myself.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something tense and uncertain, but then it was gone, and he sent her a tight smile. “Me, either.”

An impasse. Good. And though it wasn’t what she wanted, she bent for his towel, handed it to him and walked away.

SHE WOKE UP EARLY. Or more accurately, got out of bed early, as she hadn’t slept much.

Sean was beginning to doubt her. Which meant she was definitely on borrowed time. But she wasn’t ready to give it all up, not yet.

She donned the robe and slippers she’d purchased at her special store. The robe was terry cloth and itchy. The slippers, the only ones she could find in her size, had a bunny on each. “Classy,” she said into the mirror.

Feeling very middle America, she walked outside to get the morning paper.

“Psst!”

Mrs. Trykowski, her dyed-red hair rolled in green curlers, her short, heavy body in a zebra-print, faux-silk robe, was waving wildly. “Yoo-hoo!” she cried, in a single bound leaping over the bushes that separated the yards. “Good morning, Carly!”

Startled, Carlyne dropped the paper.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Mrs. T said when she’d reached Carlyne. “I wanted to tell you…first of all, that dark hair just isn’t you.”

“But…”

“And second, the way to Sean’s heart is through his stomach.”

“What?”

“Catching Sean, dear,” the older woman said patiently. “You do it through his stomach.”

“Um…okay.” Carlyne smiled through her teeth and backed toward the door, thinking, Crazy lady alert.

“You think I’m making this up. That’s what others thought, too, and they all failed.”

No, she wasn’t going to ask.

“Go ahead, dear,” Mrs. T said with a knowing smile. “Ask. I know you’re dying to.”

In the end, Carlyne couldn’t help herself. “Others?”

“Well, he’s a handsome man, don’t you think?”

Gorgeous. But absolutely beside the point. “How many others?”

“Oh, I really couldn’t tell all his secrets,” she said demurely. “Just trust me. Feed him. Cook for him. It’ll work.”

This was insane. “I’m not looking for his heart.”

“Well, now. There’s no reason to lie.” And with another knowing smile, the woman waddled away.

Carlyne shook her head and went inside, through the kitchen, where she stopped and stared at the stove.