A Prince of a Guy (Red Hot Royals #1)(17)

“No. Sean…”

He avoided her gaze. “As you’ve mentioned, cooking isn’t in your job description. I’ll handle it from now on.”

“But—”

No buts. He’d recognized the lie, was probably disgusted. He walked out the door.





5




SEAN TRIED to immerse himself in work. It should have been easy.

But he couldn’t concentrate. It had never happened to him before, this blankness when it came to designing. Yet every job he looked at, every file, every single blueprint faded away, leaving him instead with the image of Carly when he’d walked out of the kitchen yesterday morning.

She’d been trying to make them breakfast. Why, he had no idea. It was painfully obvious she didn’t have a clue. And it was equally, painfully obvious he had a problem.

First, he’d lost more than a few brain cells when he’d pulled her against his chest, but the embrace had been driven by a real fear that she’d burned herself. Instead, he felt scorched. The sweet scent of her, the softness of her skin…the catch of her breath.

It all reminded him of how he’d felt when they’d kissed. Whole. He’d felt whole.

But then he’d watched her luscious lips form the words “every morning” to his question of how often she cooked, and he’d heard the lie. He’d heard it, he’d seen it, he’d felt it.

And he’d lost it. That simple.

Tina again, of course. Still torturing him with memories. Well, dammit, he was over her. Over and moved on.

But damn if he’d trust anyone in the near future or let a woman ever hurt him again.

He finally got into his work, but for the first time in his life, he had to force himself. All he could think about was how the house was faring. He hoped it wasn’t on fire or destroyed. He hoped everyone was in one piece.

He hoped…ah, hell. He was full of it. He wanted to see Melissa. He wanted to see Carly.

But by the time he got home, it was yet again very late. Too late. The house was still standing, thank God, but quiet. No Melissa. No Carly. They were both asleep.

Well, good. This was what he’d wanted. Peace and quiet. Yep. Perfect.

To prove it to himself, he worked like a fiend for several more days, without taking a breather, with no more than a quick check on Melissa, who was apparently thriving. As promised, he made sure to leave an easy breakfast waiting for them and something for dinner, as well, or money for take-out.

While he was doing all that, he couldn’t shake the new and entirely unwelcome feeling that work was keeping him from something important.

From something like…his life.



CARLYNE COULDN’T believe it. Sean managed to avoid her for days. This was a new experience, being avoided, ignored, and she didn’t like it.

But this was his world. He could defy her, ignore her, fire her. Anything. He was in charge, which was yet another new and unwelcome realization for a woman who had been wrapping people around her pinky finger since before she could even walk.

“I wanna swim,” Melissa said to her one afternoon in the second week.

Carlyne looked at the little girl, who’d stripped out of her clothes and was standing there naked as the day she was born, an angelic smile on her face. “How about a bath?”

“No bath,” Melissa said firmly. “Pool.”

“No pool. Bath.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Melissa said in a whine.

“No,” Carly repeated after the petulant girl.

“Yes.” Melissa stopped short, then frowned. “Hey!”

Carlyne had no intention of getting in the water. Too dangerous. Sean had been gone every day, all day, in fact, but she couldn’t bank on it. With Sean, she could bank on nothing.

“But I swim good!” Melissa insisted, her chin jutting stubbornly into the air.

Well, actually, that made two of them. At home Carlyne had a case of gold medals and trophies. Big whoop-de-do. “Go get clean clothes, I’ll start the tub.”

Melissa just sent her that same angelic smile, which upon reflection should have been Carlyne’s warning. But happily clueless, she went into the bathroom to start the water.

The little girl didn’t appear. “Melissa?” She wasn’t in her bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or the living room.

“Oh, my God!” At a full run, Carlyne hit the back yard, and sure enough, there was that little blond head bobbing in the pool. Without another thought, Carlyne dove in.

By the time she reached Melissa, her heart was pumping so loud she couldn’t hear a thing over the roar of her blood. Scooping the little girl up, she clutched her close to her chest and swam for the side.

Melissa grinned. “See? Told you I could swim.” Struggling out of Carlyne’s arms, she slipped out of the pool and danced excitedly on the concrete. “I could have stayed under longer, but you swim fast.”

Carlyne, champion swimmer, could hardly pull herself out of the water because her knees were shaking so violently.

“Why is your hair crooked?” Melissa asked, staring at her with fascination. “And your face…it’s melting.” She tipped her head to the side. “How come?”

Because she had on thick foundation, which felt like papier-maché on her skin. She dragged herself up, held her wig on her head with one hand and pointed toward the house. “Go.”