The Prince's Second Chance Read online

  In the meantime, he would have to take a lot of cold showers. But a cold shower not being immediately available, he decided a dip in the Mediterranean would have to suffice.

  He dove deep, relishing the coolness of the water as his body sliced through it. Kicking hard, he pushed himself deeper. He swam downward until his lungs ached with the effort of holding his breath in, then he turned abruptly and pushed hard toward the surface. He broke through and drew in a deep, shuddering breath—and felt something smack into his shoulder.

  Blinking water from his eyes, he saw Gabriella was in the water with him. Her hair was dripping wet, and her eyes were huge in her pale face.

  “Goddamn you, Cameron.”

  The relief Gabriella had felt when he broke through the surface was overwhelming, but her heart was still pounding too hard and too fast. For almost a whole minute or maybe even longer—it certainly seemed like so much longer—he’d been gone. One minute he’d been standing beside her on the deck, the next he’d executed a clean dive into the water, and then he’d disappeared.

  She should have called for the captain. That would have been the smart thing to do. But she hadn’t been able to think—she’d just acted, and apparently that meant flinging herself over the edge and into the water after him.

  She’d gone under three times, mindless of the salt that stung her eyes as she desperately scanned the crystal clear waters for any sign of where he’d gone. And then, finally, she’d seen him. Not injured or unconscious beneath the surface, but determinedly swimming toward it.

  Cameron frowned at her. “What’s got you all bent out of shape?”

  She stared at him as she continued to tread water beside him. “You were underwater forever. I couldn’t see where you’d gone, if you’d hit or head on something and—”

  “And you jumped in to save me?” His lips curved, just a little, as if he was amused by her instinctive response.

  She wanted to hit him again. “I don’t know why I bothered.”

  “I think you do,” he said. “I think maybe, just maybe, all of your claims to the contrary aside, you still care about me.”

  “I would try to save anyone I thought was drowning.”

  “Hey.” He moved closer, lifting his hands out of the water to cradle her face in his palms. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Well, you did.” This time she did smack him again. The violent action splashed more water, hopefully masking the moisture that swam in her eyes. “You big idiot.”

  “I’m sorry.” He dipped his head, brushed his lips lightly against hers.

  She wanted to cling to him, to hold him and feel the solid warmth of his flesh beneath her hands. But she didn’t, because to do so would only prove what he already suspected—that she still cared about him. And while she might be able to convince herself that it was perfectly normal and reasonable to care about the man who was the father of her child, she knew that her feelings for Cameron weren’t that simple or straightforward.

  “Stop that.” She started to pull away, but he caught her, tangled his legs with hers. Their bodies bumped, once, twice, and the slick slide of wet skin against wet skin was incredibly and unbelievably arousing.

  “I can’t.” His hands slid down her back to curl around her bottom and pull her closer. “I’ve tried, really I have, but I can’t stop myself from wanting you.”

  The words, the tone, and the man were far too seductive—or maybe she was far too naive, because she wanted to believe he meant what he’d said. Because then it might be okay to admit that she wanted him, too.

  “This is crazy,” she said instead.

  “You’ve always made me crazy.” He nibbled his way along her jaw, down her throat, as they bobbed in the gentle waves.

  “I thought we were going to swim.”

  “This is so much better than swimming.”

  “Right now, I’m having a hard time disagreeing with that,” she admitted. “But this isn’t the time or place.”

  Cameron suckled on her earlobe. “So tell me when and where.”

  His voice was warm with desire, silky with promise, and far too tempting. But somehow Gabriella resisted the impulse to let her head fall back, to let him lead where she was only too willing to follow. Because she’d been down that road before, and she’d found herself alone at the end.

  “You make it sound so easy,” she said.

  “It could be,” he told her.

  She shook her head as she disentangled herself from him. When he was touching her, she couldn’t think straight. When she was wanting him, she couldn’t remember all the reasons that she shouldn’t. “I’m not easy,” she told him. “Not anymore.”

  “I never thought you were easy,” he denied. “And I always believed you were worth the effort.”

  “I have to get back.” She started swimming toward the ladder.

  Cameron matched her, stroke for stroke. “You’re running away.”

  “No. I have a column to finish and send in to my editor.”

  He was right behind her as she climbed out of the water.

  “How about dinner?” he asked, as she started to towel off.

  “I told you—I have work to do.”

  “Not tonight,” he said. “Saturday.”

  She hesitated. “I think Sierra has plans with Paolo.”

  “I’m not asking Sierra, I’m asking you.”

  “I’d have to check my calendar.”

  “I’m trying to prove that I’m capable of thinking long-term,” he told her. “Not just as far away as dinner, but dinner three days in the future.”

  “Should I be impressed?”

  “You should say ‘yes.’”

  “Don’t you need to check your calendar?” she challenged, knowing that his professional obligations—and his social life—were far more demanding than hers.

  “No,” he replied, without hesitation. “Because even if there’s something else on my schedule, it couldn’t possibly be as important as taking you to dinner.”

  He had the right answers to all of her questions, which only made her more cautious. He’d always been a player, and she couldn’t take the chance that he was playing her—again.

  “I think being here with you today is enough tempting of fate for one week.”

  “Would it really be so terrible to be seen in public with me?”

  She’d always thought he was the one who didn’t want to be seen with her. But now, she was wary. “It’s not you, Cameron, it’s the paparazzi that follows wherever you go. And I don’t want my daughter reading headlines that label me as your latest conquest just because we were having dinner together.”

  “Our daughter.”

  She cast a glance toward Sierra, relieved to see that she was still listening to her iPod and apparently oblivious to their conversation. “Our daughter,” she murmured in agreement.

  “I promise you, no one will know where we’re going and there will be no paparazzi hiding anywhere in the shadows waiting to snap pictures of us.”

  “How can you make that kind of promise?”

  “Trust me,” he said. “I’ve not only lived most of my life in the spotlight, I’ve learned how to court that attention when it serves my purpose—and how to circumvent it when necessary.”

  Still she hesitated.

  “Seven o’clock,” he suggested.

  She sighed. “Okay. But I have to be home by midnight.”

  “Is that your curfew?” he teased.

  “It’s Sierra’s, and I need to be home to know that she is.”

  “Then I will have you home by midnight,” he promised.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dear Gabby,

  The first time I fell in love, I was fifteen years old. Maybe I was naive to believe that Carlos and I would last forever, but he claimed to love me, too, and we spent hours talking about the future. After high school graduation, we went to different colleges, but I continued to believe that we would get back together again when we bo
th finished school. Except that when Carlos finally came home, he was married to someone else.

  I was devastated, but because I didn’t want anyone to know how heartbroken I was, I started dating someone else. After a while, I convinced myself that I was in love with him and, within a few months, we were married. It took less time than that for me to realize that our marriage had been a horrible mistake and that I’d never stopped loving Carlos.

  A couple of years ago, our paths crossed again. I immediately realized that I still had strong feelings for him. And since it turned out that he was divorced, too, it almost seemed natural to start dating again. We’ve been together now for almost a year and a half, and Carlos has been starting to drop hints about the two of us getting married.

  I have never loved anyone else as much as I loved him, but no one else has ever hurt me as much as he did, either. I’m afraid to give him another chance, afraid that he’ll break my heart all over again.

  Should I play it safe—or risk it all for a chance to live happily-ever-after?

  Signed,

  Still Sorting Out the Pieces

  Over the years that Gabriella had been writing her “Dear Gabby” column for the newspaper, she’d occasionally found that a reader’s questions and concerns reflected current events in her own life. Those were always the most difficult letters to respond to because they required not just a dose of common sense but a fair bit of introspection and Gabriella wasn’t always willing to look into herself. It was far easier, in her opinion, to respond to other people’s problems than examine her own.

  In this case, however, the issue was one at the forefront of her mind. Cameron had been more than hinting about wanting a second chance, and Gabriella was still reluctant to even consider the possibility.

  Dear Sorting,

  A man who can abuse your trust and break your heart once shouldn’t be given a chance to do so again.

  Gabriella sat back and studied the words on the screen. It was a valid point, she thought, but not quite the response that her readers expected. On a sigh, she held down the backspace key until the screen was blank again. Because as justified as she might have felt in writing those words, they were a personal response rather than a professional one.

  Don’t think about Cameron, she reminded herself. Don’t think about the fact that he claimed to love you and then dumped you. Don’t think about the fact that he disappeared from your life for more than sixteen years and now expects to pick up right where things left off.

  She pushed him out of her mind—or at least tried to—and focused on her response again.

  Dear Sorting,

  There is nothing quite as intense as first love. And nothing quite as devastating as a first heartbreak.

  It’s not surprising that you would still be holding on to your hurt and using it as a shield to protect your heart this time around. But you and Carlos are different people now than you were in high school. You’re not just older and more mature, you’ve lived separate lives and had distinct experiences, taken different paths that have merged to bring you together once again.

  It’s time to let go of the past and look to the future—and decide if you want him to be part of that future. It’s not always easy to forgive and forget, and only you can decide if you’re ready to take that next step.

  The only thing I’ll add to that is that second chances are rare. If you decide you want this one, grab hold of it with both hands.

  Good luck,

  Gabby

  It was good advice—objectively, she knew that was true. But did she have the courage to listen to her own guidance? Did she want a second chance with Cameron? Or was she a fool to think he was even offering her one?

  Had he really changed—or was he just playing her? He claimed that he wanted to be a father to his daughter, and Gabriella had no intention of standing in the way of that.

  So what was his interest in her?

  There was no shortage of women wanting to be with him, and no reason for Cameron to be with Gabriella unless that was truly what he wanted.

  But what did she want?

  She pondered that question as she rifled through the clothes in her wardrobe.

  She wanted Sierra to have a relationship with Cameron, but she was also afraid to acknowledge that relationship. As soon as the truth came out, everything would change. Sierra wouldn’t be her little girl anymore—she’d be the prince’s daughter and a princess in her own right. Her life wouldn’t be her own—she would be thrust into the spotlight, her every action and word scrutinized by the media. Gabriella wanted to protect her from that, for just a little while longer.

  And yet, here she was—watching the clock and mentally calculating the time that she had left to get ready for her date with the prince.

  Was she making a mistake?

  She didn’t want to think so, but the truth was, she’d never been able to think very clearly where Cameron Leandres was concerned. There was just something about the man that affected her on a basic level, stirring her blood and muddling her brain so that rational thought was all but impossible.

  But she did know that playing it safe was no longer an option. She was playing with fire and she knew it. All she could do now was hope that no one got burned.

  Cameron knew he was early, but he’d hoped that arriving ahead of schedule would give him a few minutes to talk to Sierra. The first time they’d met, she’d been obviously surprised and adorably flustered to realize who he was. Since then, however, her demeanor toward him had cooled noticeably. As he’d done nothing to justify this change in her attitude, he could only speculate that it was a reflection of her feelings about his relationship with Gabriella.

  He thought he could understand her wariness. He knew that Gabriella had been dating Rafe for a long time, then suddenly Rafe was out of the picture and Cameron was in. And Sierra really had no idea who he was, aside from his title, and no reason to trust him or his motivations.

  He heard footsteps approach in response to the ring of the bell, then Sierra was standing in front of him. The welcoming light in her eyes dimmed and her easy smile slipped when she recognized him. “Oh. I thought you were Paolo.”

  Gabriella had mentioned that Sierra probably had a date with the boyfriend tonight, and apparently she did. The teenager was dressed casually, in a simple knitted tank and a long flowing skirt that Cameron could easily picture Gabriella wearing. Obviously Sierra had inherited her mother’s innate sense of style and—unfortunately, at least from a father’s perspective—her ultra-feminine curves.

  He wanted to suggest that she put on a sweater but knew she would look at him as if he was crazy. And maybe he was crazy to think that he had any business trying to parent a teenage girl that he’d only met a few weeks earlier. But it was more than a recently developed sense of responsibility that urged him to get to know his daughter, it was—from the moment he’d learned of her existence—an instinctive and irrefutable desire to claim her as his child. To be the type of father to her that he’d had been fortunate enough to have for the first dozen years of his life.

  He forced himself to ignore what she was wearing and only said, “Can I come in anyway?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, of course. You can have a seat in the living room. My mom should be down in a few minutes.”

  “Why don’t you wait with me?” he suggested.

  “Why would I?”

  He wanted to call her on her rudeness, but he gritted his teeth to bite back the instinctive response and shrugged, deliberately casual. “It will give us a chance to get to know one another better.”

  Sierra paused in the arched entranceway of the living room and turned to face him. “Look, I know you’re royalty and you’re used to people bowing and curtsying. And I should probably be welcoming and gracious and oh-so-thrilled that you’re dating my mother, but the truth is, I don’t think you’re good enough for her, even if you are a prince.”

  She spoke bluntly, unapologetically, and he was sure th
at Gabriella would be appalled if she heard the words coming out of her daughter’s mouth. And while Cameron wasn’t thrilled by her obvious lack of respect, he couldn’t help but admire her strength of character and conviction. “You’re probably right.”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re agreeing with me?”

  “I’ve known your mom a long time,” he told her, settling himself onto the sofa. “Although truthfully, in some ways, I hardly know her at all. But I do know that she’s an incredible woman and I enjoy spending time with her.”

  “So that’s all this is?” She folded her arms over her chest in a gesture that was so like her mother he had to fight back a smile. “Spending time with her?”

  “We’re taking things one step at a time,” he said cautiously.

  She inched a little farther into the room. “She was dating Rafe for almost two years. He asked her to marry him.”

  “Did you want her to marry him?” The idea sliced him to the quick. It was uncomfortable enough to think of Gabriella with the other man, but to imagine that her daughter—his daughter—had approved of that relationship and maybe even looked at the other man as a father figure, was unbearable.

  But Sierra hesitated before answering, and he knew that she was considering her response. “I don’t want her to be alone,” she finally said.

  “I don’t imagine she thinks of herself as being alone.”

  “But I’m not going to be living here forever. I’ve only got two more years of high school and then I’ll be going away to college. Hopefully.”