Catherine Mann

Rich, Rugged And Royal: The Maverick Prince


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what?”

      “We’ll go to your home tonight.”

      A hollow victory, since fear rather than desire motivated her, but he wasn’t going to argue. “And tomorrow?”

      “We’ll discuss that in morning. Right now, just take us to your house.”

      * * *

      Tony’s Galveston house could only be called a mansion.

      The imposing size of the three-story structure washed over Shannon every time they drove through the scrolled iron gates. How Kolby could sleep through all of this boggled her mind, but when they’d convinced him the “monster” was gone—thanks to the guard—Kolby had been all yawns again. Once strapped into the car seat in the back of Tony’s Escalade, her son had been out like a light in five minutes.

      If only her own worries could be as easily shaken off. She had to think logically, but fears for Kolby nagged her. Nolan had stolen so much more than money. He’d robbed her of the ability to feel safe, just before he took the coward’s way out.

      Two acres of manicured lawn stretched ahead of her in the moonlight. The estate was intimidating during the day, and all the more ominously gothic at night with shadowy edges encroaching. It was one thing to visit the place for a date.

      It was another to take shelter here, to pack suitcases and accept his help.

      She’d lived in a large house with Nolan, four thousand square feet, but she could have fit two of those homes inside Tony’s place. In the courtyard, a concrete horse fountain was illuminated, glowing in front of the burgundy stucco house with brown trim so dark it was almost black. His home showcased the Spanish architecture prevalent in Texas. Knowing his true heritage now, she could see why he would have been drawn to this area.

      Silently he guided the SUV into the garage, finally safe and secure from the outside world. For how long?

      He unstrapped Kolby from the seat and she didn’t argue. Her son was still sleeping anyway. The way Tony’s big hands managed the small buckles and shuffled the sleeping child onto his shoulder with such competence touched her heart as firmly as any hothouse full of roses.

      Trailing him with a backpack of toy trains and trucks, she dimly registered the house that had grown familiar after their dates to restaurants, movies and the most amazing concerts. Her soul, so starved for music, gobbled up every note.

      Her first dinner at his home had been a five-course catered meal with a violinist. She could almost hear the echoing strains bouncing lightly off the high-beamed ceiling, down to the marble floor, swirling along the inlay pattern to twine around her.

      Binding her closer to him. They hadn’t had sex that night, but she’d known then it was inevitable.

      That first time, Tony had been thoughtful enough to send out to a different restaurant than his favored Vernon’s, guessing accurately that when a person worked eight hours a day in one eating establishment, the food there lost its allure.

      He’d opted for Italian cuisine. The meal and music and elegance had been so far removed from paper plate dinners of nuggets and fries. While she adored her son and treasured every second with him, she couldn’t help but be wooed by grown-up time to herself.

      Limited time as she’d never spent the night here. Until now.

      She followed Tony up the circular staircase, hand on the crafted iron banister. The sight of her son sleeping so limp and relaxed against Tony brought a lump to her throat again.

      The tenderness she felt seeing him hold her child reminded her how special this new man in her life was. She’d chosen him so carefully after Nolan had died, seeing Tony’s innate strength and honor. Was she really ready to throw that away?

      He stopped at the first bedroom, a suite decorated in hunter green with vintage maps framed on the walls. Striding through the sitting area to the next door, he flipped back the brocade spread and set her son in the middle of the high bed.

      Quietly, she put a chair on either side as a makeshift bed rail, then tucked the covers over his shoulders. She kissed his little forehead and inhaled his baby-fresh scent. Her child.

      The enormity of how their lives had changed tonight swelled inside her, pushing stinging tears to the surface. Tony’s hand fell to rest on her shoulder and she leaned back….

      Holy crap.

      She jolted away. How easily she fell into old habits around him. “I didn’t mean …”

      “I know.” His hand fell away and tucked into his pocket. “I’ll carry up your bags in a minute. I gave the house staff the night off.”

      She followed him, just to keep their conversation soft, not because she wasn’t ready to say good-night. “I thought you trusted them.”

      “I do. To a point. It’s also easier for security to protect the house with fewer people inside.” He gestured into the sitting area. “I heard what you said about feeling cut off from the world going to my father’s and I understand.”

      His empathy slipped past her defenses when they were already on shaky ground being here in his house again. Remembering all the times they’d made love under this very roof, she could almost smell the bath salts from last weekend. And with him being so understanding on top of everything else…

      He’d lied. She needed to remember that.

      “I realize I have to do what’s right for Kolby.” She sagged onto the striped sofa, her legs folding from an emotional and exhausting night. “It scares the hell out of me how close a random teenager already got to my child, and we’re only a couple of hours into this mess. It makes me ill to think about what someone with resources could do.”

      “My brothers and I have attorneys. They’ll look into pressing charges against the teen.” He sat beside her with a casual familiarity of lovers.

      Remember the fight. Not the bath salts. She inched toward the armrest. “Let me know what the attorneys’ fees are, please.”

      “They’re on retainer. Those lawyers also help us communicate with each other. My attorney will know we’re going to see my father if you’re worried about making sure someone is aware of your plans.”

      Someone under his employ, all of this bought with Tony’s money that she’d rejected a few short days ago. And she couldn’t think of any other way. “You trust this man, your lawyer?”

      “I have to.” The surety in his voice left little room for doubt. “There are some transactions that can’t be avoided no matter how much we want to sever ties with the past.”

      A darker note in his voice niggled at her. “Are you talking about yourself now?”

      He shrugged, broad shoulders rippling the fabric of his fine suit.

      Nuh-uh. She wasn’t giving up that easily. She’d trusted so much of her life to this man, only to find he’d misled her.

      Now she needed something tangible, something honest from him to hold on to. Something to let her know if that honor and strength she’d perceived in him was real. “You said you didn’t want to break off our relationship. If that’s true, this would be a really good time to open up a little.”

      Angling toward her, Tony’s knee pressed against hers, his eyes heating to molten dark. “Are you saying we’re good again?”

      “I’m saying …” She cleared her throat that had suddenly gone cottony dry. “Maybe I could see my way clear to forgiving you if I knew more about you.”

      He straightened, his eyes sharp. “What do you want to know?”

      “Why Galveston?”

      “Do you surf?”

      What the hell? She watched the walls come up in his eyes. She could almost feel him distancing himself from her. “Tony, I’m not sure how sharing a Surf’s