Raye Morgan

Abby and the Playboy Prince


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I don’t know. The storm is probably…”

      He turned on her, a look of astonishment in his deep blue eyes. “Abby, there’s a baby in this house.”

      She shook her head, looking longingly toward the kitchen. “I think it’s probably… uh, doves in the eaves,” she tried.

      His gaze crackled. “I don’t think so.” His look of pure skepticism stung. He just flat didn’t believe a word she was saying. And why should he?

      “It’s a baby,” he said evenly. “I know a baby when I hear one. Unless we’ve got gypsies in the closets, it’s got to be yours.” He shook his head, looking up as though appealing to heaven. “A baby. What next?”

      She went scarlet. She might have known she would end up revealing the baby. Never mind. Her thoughts went into fever mode. Before he had a chance to turn her in, she would grab Brianna and be over the border, even if she had to do it in the rain. That was the answer. She would go back into her original plan of action. No problem. She’d been speculating all along that as soon as the weather cleared and things dried out enough, she would bundle the baby up and they would head for the neighboring country. That had always been in the cards. She would just have to shift things up a bit. Once she was over the border…

      And once again, this was where the plan got a little rough. Where the heck was she ultimately going to go? Somehow she’d been sure a good scheme would present itself once she got this far. Unfortunately that hadn’t happened yet.

      “Where’d the baby come from?” he was saying. He stood right in front of her, his face only inches from hers, his gaze demanding an answer.

      She shrugged helplessly, head full of fears, heart full of tears. If he only knew how much that question hurt. “I…I can’t…”

      His gaze was cold now, cold and rather scary. “Come clean, Abby. Let’s have it. The truth this time.”

      She was losing hope and she knew he could see it in her eyes. She would have to tell him something. She would give him some truth. But not the whole truth. She couldn’t do that.

      “Okay,” she said at last, twisting her hands together. “I do have a baby with me.” There. She’d said it. She closed her eyes for a moment, as though the world were about to fall on her.

      But nothing happened. The prince didn’t even speak. He just waited, watching her. She blinked, then hurriedly tried to fill the awkward silence with some sort of explanation. “So you see, that’s why I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t take a baby out in this weather. I have to wait until the rain clears out. Surely you can see that.”

      He stared at her.

      “I just need a place to stay until the rain stops,” she tried again, but he wasn’t listening.

      “Let’s go.” He jerked his head in the direction of the tiny cries. “I want to see this baby.”

      She hadn’t expected that. She blanched. She really didn’t think this was a good idea. “Oh, but…”

      “I want to see the baby. Now.”

      His gaze was cool and direct and his tone was downright royal. She suddenly sensed the power of his heritage. It swept over her like a physical force. She felt as though it had blown her hair back and she had to gulp to keep from losing her breath.

      She wanted to argue. It was in her nature to protest when she thought something was not quite right. She tried. She felt the urge rise in her. But somehow she couldn’t get the words out. And he began to look very large. Surely she wasn’t scared of him—was she? Well, maybe, just a little bit. But she would never let him know.

      Turning, she gave him a quick sideways glance and started toward the maid’s room.

      He followed right behind her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ABBY PICKED up the baby and cuddled her against her shoulder, turning to look defiantly at the prince.

      “Her name is Brianna,” she said, her eyes daring him to say anything negative about the child. “She’s two months old.”

      Prince Mychale made no attempt to come into the room. He stood in the doorway, his handsome face a picture of puzzlement, as though the underpinnings of his world had just given way and he was floating in a world he wasn’t ready for.

      “Why would you bring a baby to a place like this?” he asked as though he really couldn’t understand it.

      She blinked at him. “What’s wrong with bringing a baby here? You were probably here as a baby.”

      “Right. With a full cadre of servants and nannies. With electricity and all the other accoutrements of modern life.” He shook his head, looking disgruntled as he stared at her. “You bring a baby here in the middle of a huge storm. I don’t even know how you got here. There’s no car outside, except for mine.” He frowned, shrugged and said, like a man at the end of his rope, “Abby, what the hell are you doing here?”

      Any hopes that a baby would charm him flew right out the window. Abby bit her lip. How was she going to explain what she was doing here without letting on what she was really doing here?

      Brianna had quieted, but only for a moment. Now she gave a shuddering sob and began to fuss a little. Abby pulled her out to where the prince could see her pretty little face.

      “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she cooed to the child. “He’s just a big, bad old prince. I know he’s scary looking, but he won’t hurt you.” She glanced at him from under her brows. “Try smiling,” she advised. “That might help.”

      Smiling. Right.

      He didn’t feel like smiling. He was, in fact, beginning to feel more trapped than happy. He’d come out here to his childhood refuge to find some peace and quiet in order to think through a very important step he was about to take. And all he’d had since he got here was one distracting jolt after another. Including the shrill wail of the kettle now boiling away noisily in the distant kitchen.

      Okay, this was just too much. He could hardly think straight, much less deeply. And now he was supposed to smile at the baby? No chance.

      She kissed the baby’s little round cheek. “You don’t know much about babies, do you?” she said.

      Babies? Since when did princes know anything about babies? It wasn’t in his job description. “Sorry, we didn’t cover child care in my classes at university,” he said with just a hint of sarcasm.

      “That’s obvious,” she said, and her flashing glance his way told him without words to watch his tone. She smirked at him. “They know when people hate them.”

      He shook his head in disbelief. How could she say such a thing? “I don’t hate children,” he protested.

      “Really?” She looked intently into Brianna’s face. “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to think you like her.”

      “That’s not true.” What was not to like? She was a baby. Who didn’t like babies? As long as they stayed in their own little rooms and in their own little play-yards where they belonged and didn’t get in the way of adults. “I like her just fine.”

      “Really?” She looked up and held his gaze with her own, looking solidly accusatory.

      He took a step into the room in his determination to prove it to her. “Abby, I like babies. Babies make the world go ’round. Every baby is a link in God’s great daisy chain.”

      Oops. He probably hadn’t done himself any favors with that last quip. The way her beautiful eyes were flashing, he could tell she didn’t think it was especially amusing. Still, that didn’t