I frown. “No. They would. It’s just… I just want a son.”

  She nods again. “Because your brother has a son.”

  “Well, not only because of that. But Xavier changed when he found he had a son. He…” I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand.” I’m not certain I understand myself completely, but I do know that after everything that has happened to me in the past few months, I need a son. The notion has consumed my every thought for so long it is difficult to think of anything else. Except, now, for Renae.

  I don’t know what is happening to me.

  “Try me.” She places her hand on my thigh, and it feels as though a bolt of lightning jolts from her hand straight to my cock.

  I must fight myself from doubling over. Instead, I place my hand on hers.

  “My brothers changed when they had children. They…became men. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  She lifts a brow. “And you don’t think you’re a man.”

  I clear my throat again. I want to tell her how I can show her I’m a man, but I restrain myself. “No, I’m definitely a man. I just…I need a child. A son.”

  “And no wife.”

  My gaze snaps to hers. “Women are…can be…difficult.”

  “So can men.”

  “Touché.” I gaze into her eyes for a moment. There’s something there I hadn’t seen before. A deep something. A longing, perhaps. One that seems very familiar to me in a way I hadn’t been expecting.

  “What if it doesn’t work?” She tilts her head. “Have you thought that through?”

  “The insemination? I’m told it is successful much of the time⁠—”

  “Not the insemination.” Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “Your plan. Your plan to become a man.”

  My cheeks grow hot. “I told you, I’m already⁠—”

  “What if it doesn’t fulfill you the way you think it will? What if…what if you’re wrong?”

  CHAPTER 18

  Renae

  “I’m not wrong,” Caspar says firmly. “Believe me, I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  Honestly, I’m not sure he has. And there’s a little voice whispering to me, reminding me that I need this arrangement, that the money is basically already spent. I should not be placing any doubts in his mind.

  This isn’t about him, I realize suddenly. This is about you. About pushing him back to arm’s length, reminding myself that this is a business arrangement and not an actual relationship.

  I rise, suddenly aware that I’m wearing nothing more than a robe. “I should get dressed.”

  I don’t wait for his response as I disappear into the closet. Thankfully, someone has already deposited my suitcase here, and I quickly rummage through it for some appropriate clothes.

  I shouldn’t have told him about Peter. I don’t know when Caspar crossed the line from a business partner to someone I make confessions to, but I don’t like it.

  Isn’t it obvious when that happened? I think as I shove my legs into a pair of jeans. Right around the moment you let him ram his tongue in your mouth. And you were this close to letting him ram something else in you, too.

  My cheeks blaze as I pull on a bra. I should know better. From the very beginning, I told myself I had to be on my guard and ignore the fact that I find him attractive, and what do I do? Essentially melt into him the moment he makes a pass at me. If he hadn’t brought up the whole virginity thing in the middle of it all, I’d probably be naked under the sheets with him right now.

  Out in the bedroom, the tinny strum of the ukulele picks up again. Weird that he should be so humble about something like that when he’s so arrogant and cocksure about other things. Caspar is infinitely more complicated than I initially believed, which is one more reason to play it safe and keep my emotional distance.

  I pull a blouse over my head and give myself a once-over in the full-length mirror. I’m way out of my depth here, but like I’ve told myself a dozen times in the last two days, there’s no turning back now.

  He’s just a man, I tell myself as I turn back to the bedroom. You’ve spent your entire adult life—save one stupid, emotional night—controlling your sexual urges. Why should this be any different?

  But when I return to the bedroom and see Caspar sitting on the edge of the bed—the one bed we have to share every night we’re here—his fingers moving skillfully on the strings and his red-gold hair falling casually across his brow, I know I’m screwed.

  That afternoon, as planned, we join Caspar’s brother, wife and son at their picnic by the lake.

  Honestly, I didn’t even notice the huge body of water behind Wintervale Manor when we first arrived. I was too distracted by the house itself, which looks like some fancy palace out of a period romance novel. But now I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t notice the beauty of the lake—the water is almost unnaturally blue, its surface glittering beneath the sun like a giant sapphire. It’s surrounded by lush, green trees on every shore except for this one, providing an almost unadulterated view of nature—which is only further emphasized by its stark contrast with the carefully manicured gardens between the lake and the manor house.

  “Over here, my little owl,” Caspar says. His arm is hooked through mine, and he guides me toward a flat stretch of grass near the shore where someone has spread a couple of large, luxurious blankets. Three big baskets of food sit at the center.

  “Brother, glad you could make it.” Lord Xavier strides up behind us, carrying his son in one arm. On his other side is a pretty, dark-haired woman who smiles at me with kind eyes.

  “This is my wife, Lauren,” Lord Xavier says to me.

  “Renae,” I offer, extending my hand to her.

  “My betrothed,” Caspar cuts in.

  Lauren, to her credit, doesn’t look especially surprised by that announcement. But I suppose Xavier filled her in on the situation—as much as he knows of it, anyway. I can only imagine they’ve spent the last couple of hours speculating about us.

  “Caca!” Noah cries, reaching for Caspar.

  “That’s right,” Caspar says cheerfully. “Are you ready for a picnic with your Uncle Caca?”

  We spread out on the blankets, and the food is pulled from the baskets—loaves of crusty bread, fresh fruit, cured meats, pots of fresh preserves, meat pies with fancy designs in the pastry on top… My mouth waters as the feast is laid before us.

  “So, Renae,” Lauren says as she parcels out bits of cheese for Noah, “where are you from originally?”

  “Seattle,” I say. Then I add, noting her accent, “Are you from the U.S. too?”

  “Yes, technically,” she says. “I grew up there. But I’m half Montovian. I met Xavier here in Wintervale.” She gives her husband a warm look.

  “It sounds like there’s a story there,” I say.

  She laughs. “There definitely is. And I’m happy to tell you the whole thing later. For the moment, though, I want to know how you two met. You must be something special, because not even two months ago I could have sworn Caspar was a confirmed bachelor.”

  “Now, that’s not fair,” Caspar protests around a large bite of toast and jam.

  Lauren ignores him, her friendly gaze still locked on me. “So? How did you meet?”

  If Caspar and I had been smart, we would have gotten our stories straight ahead of time. Obviously, I know I’m not supposed to tell them about our business arrangement, but stupidly, I never planned out anything further than that.

  “In a diner,” I tell her honestly, because it’s the easiest answer, and stalling while I think of another would look suspicious. “We bumped into each other. Literally.”

  “And I helped her pick up the books she dropped,” Caspar adds adeptly.

  “I’m a librarian at Lake Washington University,” I explain. “Or at least I was.” I’m still getting used to the past-tense part.

  “So this guy charmed you off your feet from the start, huh?” Lauren is fighting her smile.

  “I guess you could say that.” I steal a glance at Caspar, whose face looks perfectly serene. But I’m learning to see his little quirks, and I can sense the touch of panic beneath his easy expression. He, too, seems to realize we should have had a plan.

  “The Wintervale men certainly have a way about them,” Lauren says. “The first time I met Xavier was equally explosive.”

  Lord Xavier, amusingly, goes a little red in the cheeks at her comment.

  “There’s no reason to go into that here,” he says in his deep rumble of a voice. “And anyway, I want to hear from my brother.” He turns to Caspar. “This all sounds very…romantic, I guess.” Romantic comes out like it’s mildly uncomfortable for him, like he doesn’t know quite how to use the word. “But you must admit it’s a little out of character for you, Brother. So, I want to know—what’s this really about?”

  CHAPTER 19

  Caspar

  “It’s about love, of course,” I say, sliding my arm around Renae.

  I can only hope my brother doesn’t see how she stiffens beneath my touch. Am I so horrible? I want to ask her. She didn’t seem to think so for a few moments this afternoon until I ruined it with talk of her chastity—or lack thereof.

  Xavier snorts but doesn’t have the chance to object.

  “Watch me, Caca!” My young nephew takes a napkin in his hand and begins to run, flying the fabric above his head like a kite.

  “I’ll go after him,” Lauren says with a sigh, rising to her feet before chasing after the boy who is now nearly to the edge of the gardens.

  “He’s quick,” I say. “Perhaps more of a sprinter than a wrestler?”

  “I suppose we’ll see,” Xavier says, still eyeing me. “So what is it you two have in common?”

  “Whatever do you mean?” I knew it would be difficult to convince my brothers that I’d fallen in love with a woman, but I didn’t expect quite the grilling.

  “I mean…” He glances between the two of us. “What do you have in common? Besides the bed, of course.”

  I don’t need to see Renae to know her cheeks have flushed a deep shade of crimson. “Books,” she blurts.

  “Books?” Xavier laughs—a rarity from him. “You’ve bonded over books?”

  “You might be surprised, Brother,” I say, frowning.

  “I definitely would. Tell me, what book is it the two of you had both read? I’m sure Lauren and I would both love to read it.”

  I open my mouth to give him a sarcastic response but think better of it. Surely I can think of the title of a book. Something. Anything.

  “1984,” Renae says calmly. “It’s an interesting read given the current times.”

  “Truly,” I say, nodding, though I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  Xavier lifts a brow, searching my face. “Is that right?” He cocks his head. “And what did you like so much about it, Brother?”

  “I—”

  “Actually, Caspar knocked the book from my hand in the diner when we met.” Renae takes my hand in hers, looking up at me with a smile that doesn’t seem at all forced. “When he handed it back to me, he told me how relevant he thought it was to what was going on today. If you read it through the right lens⁠—”

  “You can really say that about a lot of books, can’t you?” Lauren interjects as she plops down on the ground, an upside-down Noah in her arms. She blows a raspberry on his exposed belly, and he giggles before she sets him down beside her. “It’s what I love most about reading older books. You can apply almost anything to current times if you just look at it the right way.”

  “I knew the two of you would get along well!” I say with a grin.

  “Smashing,” Xavier grumbles, his gaze still narrowed at me.

  “Maybe we should start a book club or something,” Lauren continues. “The four of us could read a book and discuss it. Talk about how we can apply the lessons to our lives.”

  My brother might have been doubting my story before, but I’d like to see how he gets himself out of this.

  “Yes, Xavier, doesn’t that sound charming?” I say with a grin. “Perhaps you’d like to start us off. Choose a book we should study over the next few weeks.”

  Xavier’s face twists, and he grumbles under his breath.

  “What was that, Brother?”

  “I said that it sounds like torture,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll leave the three of you to it.”

  “You can’t really have a book club with only three people,” I say, though I have no idea if it’s true or not. “You really need at least four to make it interesting. It’s not even worthwhile without a fourth.”

  Lauren shrugs, and Renae squeezes my hand. Perhaps I’ve said something right by tormenting my brother?

  “Well,” Lauren says, “I think it’s great that the two of you bonded over books. It’s good to have something in common.”

  “Indeed,” I say. “And we’ve also bonded over our love of children. We intend to begin trying right away.”

  Xavier merely shakes his head.

  “You might want to wait a little while. You haven’t known each other very long. Why not have a long honeymoon? Travel the world together or something.” Lauren shrugs, looking over at Xavier. “That’s what I would’ve wanted.”

  “I still intend to give you the honeymoon of your dreams,” he says, taking her hand in his before kissing her fingers. “When the time is right.”

  “Go now,” I say without thinking. “Renae and I can care for Noah while you’re gone.”

  “Uh…” Renae stiffens again beside me.

  “We couldn’t ask you to do that,” Lauren says.

  Xavier blinks at me a few times. “Are you serious?”

  “Perhaps not for a full honeymoon,” I say. “But certainly we could care for the boy so the two of you could take a long weekend together.”

  “Brother…” Xavier shakes his head. “He’s a toddler now.”

  “I cared for him when he was a wee lad,” I say with a shrug. “And Renae and I plan to be parents as soon as possible. So go ahead and go,” I say with a smile. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  CHAPTER 20

  Renae

  This is a terrible idea.

  But arguing about it with Caspar would be even worse, so before I know it, we’re at the top of the front steps, waving goodbye to Lord Xavier and Lauren with Noah in Caspar’s arms.

  “Are you excited for a fun weekend with your Uncle Caca?” Caspar says to his nephew, who’s looking a little confused by the whole situation. “We’re going to have lots of adventures, aren’t we?”

  Noah squirms, fussing and reaching after his parents’ retreating car.

  Honestly, I’m impressed the little one has held his composure this long. It took a little convincing from Caspar to get Lord Xavier and Lauren to agree to the getaway, but it was clear from the glances they kept giving each other that they both craved a little time to themselves. I get the impression that this might be the first true vacation they’ve had since Noah came into their lives. And even though they were both excited to get away, Lauren cried when she handed him to Caspar, and even Lord Xavier looked a little misty-eyed as he bid farewell to his son.

  It’s finally starting to sink in for little Noah that his parents aren’t immediately returning.

  “MA!!!!!” he screeches, writhing in Caspar’s grip. “DADA!!!!”

  “Easy, there,” Caspar says, desperately trying to keep his hold on his nephew. “They’ll be home before you know it. In the meantime, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

  But Noah doesn’t want to hear it. He screams at the top of his lungs—deafening me for an instant—and begins sobbing hysterically, beating his tiny fists against Caspar’s shoulder.

  Caspar looks over at me, panic in his eyes. “What do we do?!”

  I can hardly hear him over Noah’s screaming, but I get the gist.

  “I’m not an expert on toddlers,” I admit. I knew this was a terrible idea, but Caspar didn’t want to hear it. “Does he have a favorite toy? Or snack?”

  “I…don’t know.” Caspar shakes his head, then tries bouncing Noah on his hip. That only makes his nephew cry harder. “If my brother and Lauren had actually hired a nanny, this would have been a lot easier.”

  “Wait, is that your intention?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You intend on dumping your child on a nanny and not doing any of the work yourself?”

  “Of course I’d do some of the work,” he says. “But if I’m going to be a single father and I can afford the help, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have someone in my employ. Or several someones. Most royals do, you know. Xavier is just odd that way. But Xavier is the second son, and I’m the heir to Wintervale. I have duties I’ll be expected to perform.”

  What duties? I want to ask. I haven’t seen him do anything I’d call real “work” since I’ve known him.

  “You shouldn’t be so judgmental,” he goes on. “Plenty of parents around the world hire help. Or put their children in daycare. How is this any different?”

  I suppose it isn’t, but it still seems slightly strange to me that he’d go through all this effort for a baby while already planning to pass off most of the care to someone else. I want our child to grow up with a loving, attentive⁠—

  No, I correct myself silently but firmly. Not our child. Caspar’s child. Despite my role in all this, I’ve already agreed to give up all claim to the baby. I can’t go around thinking of it as “ours,” not if I want to get out of this emotionally unscathed.

  Caspar has somehow managed to calm Noah’s screams into heavy sobs.

  “Want some cookies?” he asks his nephew. “You can have all the cookies you want this weekend!”

  Noah sniffles, then hiccups, swallowing a sob. He looks up at Caspar with big eyes. “Coo hee?”

  “Yes!” Caspar’s face brightens. “Coohees! All the coohees you could want, my boy.” He bounces Noah on his hip. “I know your mommy has a stash of those good American ones somewhere…”

 

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