"Still," Megan continued, "if you want to visit her, I'm sure we can find a way to make it work."

"And you?" His voice was low, both sensuous and cautious. "I want to see you again."

She tried for a lighthearted answer. "Tough to see Anna without seeing me. The suite's not that big."

"You know what I mean."

She let her gaze fall to his long fingers, still splayed across the top of her leg. Anyone looking at the two of them sitting on the sofa would think she and Stefano were a pa.s.sionate newlywed couple, unable to keep their hands off each other for the duration of a conversation; she knew better. "I don't know if that's wise."

Today had been a gift. A memory she'd cherish the rest of her life, just as she did the memory of their first encounter. But they both knew there was no future in it, not for the two of them. His life could never be hers. Even if she wanted to give up her freedom for a royal life-a.s.suming the Barrali family would accept an American n.o.body from Minnesota as a romantic partner for their son-she couldn't force that life upon Anna. She wouldn't.

Stefano would soon realize the futility of it, too. While they'd be forever bound by Anna, eventually the romantic aspect of their relationship would end, and Megan's heart would break. She couldn't stare that heartbreak in the face every time Stefano wanted to spend time with their daughter. She definitely couldn't stand it if-when-the press discovered Anna's parentage, they also discovered that the fling hadn't ended at Anna's conception. The longer she let this go on, the greater the chance that could happen.

What would such a revelation do to Anna? Would she harbor dreams of them becoming a family and living in the palace in Sarcaccia, not realizing what that would truly mean? It was too big a risk to take.

"You're worried about what it will do to Anna if we're involved."

"I have to be."

He cupped her chin, tilting her face so she could see the determination in his expression. "I told you. I want more than flirting from you."

She smiled at that, hoping to hide the sadness practicality brought her. "What we did today went beyond flirting."

"I want to make up for what we lost in Venezuela." He caressed her cheek with his thumb, causing her stomach to do a slow flip-flop against her will.

"That's not possible."

"Anything we want is possible. We only need to want it." He moved his hands to her waist, then knelt on the floor between the coffee table and sofa and looked up at her. "Megan Hallberg, I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife."

Chapter Thirteen.

Megan's breath stilled in her lungs as she stared at Stefano, not quite believing what he'd said.

I want you to marry me.

The thought of marrying him made her giddy. Waking up next to him each morning, laughing together over coffee, spending weekends with Anna at the park...if only it could be. If only he hadn't been born a Barrali. If only it was something more than a fantasy. Still, it charmed her that he could dream of a fantasy life together.

A flinch of his hands at her waist made her realize he was waiting for her response.

"Well, when you said you could be impetuous, you meant it."

Crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. "Making love to you today was impetuous, but the feeling behind it was not. Nor is my proposal."

This was planned? She blinked in confusion. "Come again?"

"I've thought about it from the moment you told me about Anna."

The happy flip-flop of her stomach settled to lead. So that's why he proposed. Anna. She should've known. She forced a lighthearted tone to cover her emotional tumult. "I find it hard to believe you were considering marriage when you were so angry you left me in the hallway on the conference floor."

One side of his mouth hitched into a dimple-inducing smile. She suspected he knew exactly what that smile did to her.

"Maybe the thought came a moment after that," he admitted. "I was furious when you told me. It was a shock to learn I was a father and that you'd kept such a secret for so long. But once I understood that it wasn't intentional on your part, I realized all that we could have together. It makes such perfect sense, I haven't been able to think of anything else."

She glanced down at his strong hands, still encircling her waist as he knelt before her, then back to his bewitching eyes, trying to discern the truth in their depths. "You don't think that's impetuous?"

"Fast," he acknowledged, "but not impetuous. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

He rose to sit beside her on the sofa and bracketed her hands with his. "You don't have to answer me now. In fact, you shouldn't. It's a big decision and you should take time to consider it."

As long as he'd taken to consider it?

"Living in the palace would mean a significant lifestyle change for you and for Anna. However, I can make arrangements to keep my block of rooms more private. The laws in Sarcaccia were recently changed to prevent paparazzi from following or photographing children, so Anna would have protections that aren't available in most other countries...protections I didn't even have as a child. There are dozens of high end hotels that would love to have someone of your expertise on staff and the country's new conference center will soon be hiring, so there are options for you if you wish to continue working. All it would take is a phone call or two for you to find the perfect position. The school system is excellent. Anna can study anything she wishes. Even-dare I say it-cooking."

Megan closed her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by his grand plans. He'd thought through everything...everything except the real reason any couple should marry. "That's all very practical, but-"

"We have a connection, Megan. It's more than the fact we share a child. It's us. Time hasn't dimmed that spark. If anything, we're old enough now to understand how special it is. How rare and valuable."

She opened her eyes, intent on stopping him from uttering another word, but the heat in his gaze nearly made her say yes on the spot. Spending her life with this man-talking about each other's days over a gla.s.s of wine each evening, watching him with Anna, sharing her bed with him every night-would be a dream come true in so many ways. But it was only a dream. As he said, they shared a spark. A lasting, fulfilling marriage required more than a spark-no matter how hot that spark-even if he'd thought through the logistics of everything else. Logistics plus spark weren't good enough for her.

She wanted a marriage like the deeply pa.s.sionate one her parents enjoyed. A marriage that would endure. A marriage built on love, trust, and mutual respect. Not a marriage built on hot s.e.x during a college fling and a weekend in Barcelona.

Years spent raising Anna on her own taught her the importance of unconditional love. She wanted no less from a spouse. She wouldn't marry simply for convenience. In the end, it couldn't endure.

She pulled her hands from his and stood, needing s.p.a.ce.

"I'll think about it, but I can't imagine an answer other than no."

"Why?"

She turned to face him from the opposite side of the coffee table, surprised that he sounded stunned by her response. "If you'd known I was pregnant before you proposed to Ariana, maybe things would be different. Maybe you and I would have taken that opportunity to reevaluate our relationship. Even so, I suspect things wouldn't have changed." She spread her hands wide. "We parted ways for a reason, Stefano. We knew we were from two different worlds, with completely different plans for our lives, and that nothing could come of it. I finished school, you went home to your military career and to a new relationship. As nostalgic as it may make us feel to look back a decade, let's be honest with ourselves. What we had was no more than a fling. A very hot fling, but a fling."

He leaned back on the sofa and folded his hands over the knot of his robe, his ease suggesting he'd expected her to say as much. "It was more than a fling to me, I just didn't know it at the time."

She started to speak, but he waved her off. "I learned over the years that what we shared emotionally was far more than what one experiences in a fling. I told you that I don't do casual s.e.x. There's a reason. You changed me. Everyone I've dated since then has paled in comparison." A muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke. "You still have that effect on me. And I think I have that effect on you. I'm not the only one who's not into casual s.e.x."

"How would you know that?"

"Bella," the word came out as a tease, "you couldn't find the condoms. And when you did, it was an unused box."

She burned to point out that she had a young child and a full-time job. She lived in the very building where she worked. Casual s.e.x couldn't be on the agenda, even if she wanted.

But...she didn't. The few men she'd dated over the years hadn't fired her blood the way Stefano did. Not enough to justify the risks a wild night in the sack would entail.

Even so, that wasn't a justification for marriage. He wouldn't have proposed to her if not for Anna. He couldn't love her, just as she couldn't possibly love him. Who fell in love in a weekend? Falling into l.u.s.t, she could believe. That they had in spades. Seeing him on her sofa wearing nothing but a hotel robe and a mischievous, self-satisfied grin made her want to climb in his lap and wrap her legs around him all over again. If she succ.u.mbed to that temptation, she knew that in time, love was a possibility. For her.

For him? She suspected that if she spent a few days or weeks with him in his world, his fascination with her would wane.

She struggled to keep her voice level so he'd see things more clearly. "If what you say is true, if you truly believed we had a....a connection, then you could have found me any time you wanted." He hadn't, which told her exactly why he waxed poetic now. He discovered she'd borne his child. That's what changed him.

He shook his head as if he'd antic.i.p.ated this argument, as well. "By the time I realized the enormity of what we shared, you were lost to me. Living and working on a different continent at best, married and settled at worst. It wouldn't have been right to phone out of the blue and interrupt your life, especially given how we left things." He waved in the direction of the windows. "Who'd think we'd find each other again in Spain, of all places? That we'd both be single and that we'd share a wonderful child? We've been given an opportunity here to right a wrong. To make a different decision than we did when we left Venezuela."

Megan's heart seemed to shrink in on itself as the words left Stefano's mouth. "No. What we've been given is a bubble. A place where nothing and no one can bother us, where we can enjoy each other-our connection-without the realities of the outside world. But bubbles are fragile, delicate things, Stefano. They don't last. No matter how much you may shield them, they eventually pop. Tomorrow, you'll head back to Sarcaccia and you'll realize that what we have isn't sustainable." She mimicked his wave toward the lights of the city, glittering to life now that night was falling. "Not out there."

And not as long as he saw marrying her as the right thing to do...tantamount to an obligation.

He shrugged. "I won't."

His confidence was infuriating. s.e.xy as all h.e.l.l, but infuriating. "Then let me approach this another way. First, my life here is good. Very good. I have a fantastic career, one I built through hard work. I'm also free to come and go as I please. That can't be duplicated no matter who you call about employment or how you arrange your living quarters at the palace. Second, while I can pull off a night with dignitaries like I did for the grand reopening, I don't move in your circles on a day-to-day basis and frankly, I don't think I'd want to. That's what's expected of someone who lives in the palace and is part of the Sarcaccian royal family."

"But-"

She kept right on going, afraid if she didn't, she'd never say what he needed to hear. "Third, and most important, even if I wanted to get married and live in Sarcaccia with you, even if I wanted to take a stab at living a public life, even if marriage felt like the right thing for us to do" -she hoped he understood her choice of emphasis- "there's a third person involved. Doing what's best for Anna trumps anything I might want for myself."

Love being foremost on that priority list. Not that it was on offer.

He remained quiet for a moment after she finished. He leaned forward, putting his elbows to his knees and steepling his fingers to his chin. "May I speak now?"

She exhaled. "Go ahead."

"That's a long list of reasons to say no. They all boil down to the fact you don't trust me." It wasn't an accusation, but a statement of realization.

Megan bit back a groan. His light bulb moment was that she didn't trust him with her independence; in truth, she didn't trust him with her heart.

"How can I? I don't understand how you can trust yourself." She folded her arms over her stomach. "This is the first time we've seen each other in a decade. Even back then, we only spent a short time together. On top of that, you just discovered that you have a daughter. As in, less than forty-eight hours ago. How can you truly know what you want? What's right?"

"Because I do."

With that response, she let loose her penultimate argument, the one she'd been hoping never to reveal, but that he needed to address, for himself if not for her. "Did you know it the last time you asked a woman to marry you?"

Chapter Fourteen.

Megan's outburst couldn't have shocked him more.

The air stilled between them. After all these years, the horrible sequence of events leading to the Ariana catastrophe still rankled. Tension squeezed Stefano's skull as he said, "I should explain that."

Her expression transformed from serious to exasperated, then from exasperated to apologetic in a matter of seconds. She forked her hands through her hair, finally flipping the air-dried strands so they fell down her back. "No, you don't have to. It's a private matter. I bring it up only so you can consider what-"

"I know I don't have to, but I need to. Not to the world, but to you. It's a huge part of why I know this" -he angled a finger toward Megan, then himself- "is right. Even if you distrust me so much you're standing on the opposite side of the table to talk."

Her gaze flicked to the table, then quickly back to him. Something in his choice of words bothered her. He could see it in her expression. But what?

"I'm trying to discuss this rationally," she finally replied, "but when I'm close to you it's distracting."

"A point in my column." He patted the empty s.p.a.ce beside him. "Come. Sit. I'll tell you what happened so you can make a decision based on full information. Then I'll kiss you goodnight and return to my suite while you take all the time you need to think about my proposal."

"I suspect you'll say whatever it takes to get your way."

"Perhaps...if my way is right."

Her arms remained crossed, as if she needed to defend herself from him. "Have you ever been told that you're pushy, Your Highness?"

"Of course. It's part of the official prince job description. Lucky for you, I'm not half as pushy as the twins."

"From what I gather, that's not a high standard." Stefano's older brothers, Crown Prince Vittorio and Prince Alessandro, were known for their identical stubborn streaks as well as their identical looks. She took a few steps toward the sofa and held up her index finger. "I don't want details."

"I promise, only the highlights."

"Then go ahead." She sat on the opposite end of the sofa rather than the closer spot he'd indicated and folded her legs under her so he wouldn't pull her feet into his lap again. Not ideal, but he'd take it.

He settled in, mentally preparing for Megan's reaction to what would be the most embarra.s.sing admission of his life, a truth only he and Ariana knew completely. "The wheels were put in motion before I left you in Venezuela, only I didn't know it. I didn't sleep a wink for those fifteen hours on the plane, even though we'd spent the previous night at the beach. Frankly, you were too much on my mind. When I landed, I expected to spend the next few days sleeping off the flight before reporting for military duty, but my parents had other plans."

"A welcome home party?"

"Only to someone with a sick sense of humor." Like his parents. "It was more of a welcome-to-your-royal-duty party...on no notice."

She grimaced. "Doesn't sound celebratory."

"No." He exhaled, suddenly as bone-tired as if he'd been transported back to that day. "The king and queen organized a ma.s.sive charity event for the afternoon of my return, a garden party at the palace to raise money for our country's animal shelters. I was expected to attend and host a table of dignitaries. My parents also neglected to tell me that I'd be hosting that table with Ariana Ba.s.si. I didn't know until I sat down at the table and saw our names listed together in the program."

Frown lines puckered her brow. "Wouldn't you need time to prepare for an event like that? Or to discuss it with Ariana?"

Stefano shook his head. "Before Venezuela, I attended similar charity affairs a couple times a week. I functioned pretty well off the cuff by that point and my parents knew it. I didn't even think much of the pairing with Ariana at first. She was a close childhood friend and her parents are renowned for their philanthropic work with animals. However, it became clear to me-to both of us-during the few first minutes of the event that my parents arranged everything in the hopes we'd get together."

Megan surprised him by smiling. "Parents do like to see their children happy. Matchmaking has been known to accomplish that."

"True," he replied. "But matchmaking is about more than happiness where my parents are concerned. In fact, 'happiness' barely makes their priority list. When the Barrali line runs out, our government automatically dissolves and control of the country returns to Italy. No one in Sarcaccia wants that. We value our independence and our unique culture too much to become subjects of another country, even if it's what a treaty dictates."

She nodded, acknowledging Sarcaccia's well-known treaty with Italy. "You have a large family. Surely your parents aren't worried about grandchildren?"

"They're always worried. As were my father's parents and grandparents before him, I suspect." He eased closer to her, wanting to fill some of the empty s.p.a.ce between them. "From the time my siblings and I were old enough to date, my parents stressed that it's our royal duty to wed and produce heirs, regardless of our personal feelings on the subject. Our forebears fought hard for independence. The people of Sarcaccia count on us to maintain it."

She smoothed her hands over her knees, sliding her robe so it covered her calves. "Even so, your parents' timing wasn't the best with you about to begin your military service."

"They were desperate. Their attempts to find spouses for my older brothers failed-I didn't learn of it until months later, but while I was in Venezuela, Alessandro threatened to move out of the palace if they refused to back off-so they decided to take a crack at me during the few days I'd be under their roof." He blew out an agitated breath. "My siblings encouraged it, since they liked Ariana and they knew it'd keep my parents from meddling in their lives. Guests saw the way my parents were watching me with Ariana and the gossip started. By the end of the afternoon, I felt as if I'd been tossed aboard a runaway train with no means to brake."

Megan pushed off the sofa without a word. For a split second, Stefano wondered what he'd said to upset her-he hadn't even gotten to the worst of it yet-but relaxed when she opened the refrigerator and withdrew two bottles of water. She handed him one cool bottle, then popped the lid on the other before taking her seat once more. "Certainly Ariana had something to say about all this?"