The Prince's Second Chance Read online

  So she’d tried to pass her dreams and ambitions on to her children. Michael, her firstborn, had always known what he wanted and had refused to let her manipulate him. Marissa, her youngest child and only daughter, had mostly escaped Elena’s attention by virtue of her gender. So it was almost by default that she’d focused her efforts on her second son.

  And Cameron, still looking for his own place and purpose in life, had been much more susceptible to his mother’s manipulations. As a result, he’d done some things he wasn’t proud of, hurt a lot of people who never should have been hurt, and walked away from the only woman he’d ever loved.

  Walked away? His lips twisted wryly. No, what he’d done was push her away—so forcefully and finally that she’d never wanted to look back. And Cameron had never let himself look back, either. He’d never let himself admit that he might have made a mistake, that every woman he’d been with since had been little more than a pale substitute for her.

  Until today when, for the first time in more than sixteen years, he’d found himself face-to-face with her again.

  Gabriella Vasquez—the only woman who had ever taken hold of his heart.

  He closed his eyes, as if that might banish her image from his mind. He didn’t want to think of her now, to remember what they’d once shared, to imagine what might have been. There was no point. Gabriella was his past and he had to look to the future.

  Not that a status-conscious socialite like Allegra was a woman he could imagine being with for the rest of his life. But hopefully a casual meal with his frequent companion would generate some positive publicity to counteract all the negative headlines of last night’s fiasco at Club Sapphire.

  And there would be publicity—of that he had no doubt. Gone were the days when he only had to worry about card-carrying members of the media shoving cameras in his face—now they hid in the shadows and used telephoto lenses. And even if no paparazzi were around, there would be someone with a camera in a cell phone eager to snap a shot.

  He arrived at Allegra’s condo at seven-fifteen, knowing she would keep him waiting at least fifteen minutes. He didn’t usually mind, but for some reason, he found the delay tonight more than a little irritating. When Allegra swept into the room, however, he couldn’t deny that she was worth the wait.

  She was wearing a sheath-style dress of emerald green that molded to her slender frame and enhanced the color of her eyes. Her long, blond hair was styled in a fancy twist that was both sexy and sophisticated. Round emeralds surrounded by diamonds glittered at her ears and a matching pendant dangled between her breasts.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” she said.

  “You look lovely,” he said, his response as automatic as her apology, though probably more sincere.

  “Would you like a drink before we go?” she asked, gesturing toward the well-stocked bar in the corner.

  He shook his head. “We have reservations at L’Atelier and if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

  “L’Atelier?” Her eyes lit up and her lips curved as she tucked her hand in his arms. “Aren’t you full of surprises tonight?”

  When they were seated at one of only a half-dozen tables in the exclusive upper-level dining room, Cameron ordered a bottle of Cristal because he knew it was Allegra’s favorite.

  During the course of the meal, they sipped the champagne and talked about nothing of importance. When the waiter cleared away his empty plate and the remnants of Allegra’s coq au vin—because she never did more than sample her dinner—a flash of color near the doorway caught his eye.

  A swirling red dress wrapped around luscious feminine curves. A tumble of dark curls that grazed sexy shoulders. A low, throaty laugh that shot through his blood like an exquisite cognac.

  His breath caught; his throat went dry.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  Then she turned, and his heart actually skipped a beat.

  It was Gabriella.

  He didn’t recognize the man she was with, but he didn’t really take a good look. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of the woman who had preoccupied far too many of his thoughts since their encounter earlier that morning—the same woman who had haunted his dreams for far too many years.

  She looked absolutely stunning. Sensual. Sexy. Seductive.

  The return of the waiter with their dessert dragged his attention back to his own table. He noticed that Allegra was frowning slightly, obviously displeased by the wavering of his attention but reluctant to say anything about it.

  He reached across the table for her hand, and she smiled at him. She was always quick to forgive and forget—and willing to disregard troublesome newspaper headlines. It was unfortunate, he thought, that he wasn’t even close to falling in love with her.

  “Allegra—”

  She leaned forward, her eyes bright and filled with anticipation. “Yes?”

  He drew in a breath. “I think we should take a break.”

  She blinked. Once. Twice. “Excuse me?”

  He couldn’t blame her for appearing shell-shocked. He had no idea where those words had come from. And yet, now that he’d spoken them, he felt an immense sense of relief—and more than a little bit of guilt.

  “You brought me here tonight…to dump me?”

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t plan— I mean, I’m not dumping you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but she valiantly held them in check. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful that she wasn’t the type of woman to make a nasty scene.

  “It sure sounds that way to me.” Her voice was cool and carefully controlled as she pushed her chair away from the table. Then she picked up her champagne glass and tossed the contents in his face. “You son of a bitch.”

  So much for thinking she wouldn’t cause a scene, Cameron thought, as he wiped up the Cristal with his linen napkin.

  Gabriella had escaped to the ladies’ room for a moment of quiet to catch her breath and settle her nerves. As she’d readied herself for her date with Rafe, she’d worried about Sierra’s prediction. When they’d arrived at the restaurant and been led to the upper level, her apprehension had increased.

  She knew there were about half a dozen tables in the exclusive dining room, but the arrangement and décor were such that the diners at each table had the illusion of complete privacy. There were tall columns and lush greenery, soft lights and romantic music, and just walking into the scene had her stomach twisting into knots. Because in that moment, she knew that Sierra was right—Rafe had brought her here tonight because he was going to ask her to marry him, and she didn’t know how she would respond to that question.

  She considered calling her daughter and begging Sierra to call her with some trumped-up emergency that required Gabriella to immediately return home. The only reason she didn’t make the call was that she knew she couldn’t count on Sierra’s complicity. Her daughter clearly thought it was a good idea for Gabriella to marry Rafe and wouldn’t understand her hesitation. A hesitation that had led her to hiding out in the ladies’ room rather than facing a perfectly wonderful man who wanted to spend his life with her.

  As she was reapplying her lip gloss, the door to the ladies’ room flew open. When a weeping woman flung herself onto the chaise lounge and buried her face in her hands, Gabriella realized that some people had bigger problems than she did.

  She dropped the lip gloss back into her purse and glanced around, but the spacious room was otherwise empty. So she plucked a handful of tissues from the box on the counter and went to the sitting area, lowering herself to the edge of a chair facing the distraught woman.

  Wordlessly, she offered the tissues.

  The blonde lifted her head, looked at her through beautiful, tear-drenched eyes.

  Gabriella barely managed to hold back a shocked gasp.

  It had been awkward enough to imagine that she’d been trapped in the washroom with a broken-hearted but anonymous stranger. But she knew who this woman was—she was Allegra de Havilland, Pr
ince Cameron’s consort.

  As quickly as Gabriella identified the woman, she also recognized that the juiciest headline of her career was in the palm of her hand.

  Chapter Three

  She immediately pushed the thought aside, ashamed that she would consider—even for a second—capitalizing on someone else’s pain for the purpose of advancing her career. It wasn’t as if she aspired to take over Alex Girard’s “Around Town” column, after all, she was just having some fun with it while her colleague was on vacation. But it would be cruel to exploit Allegra’s obvious heartache for a headline. So Gabriella didn’t ask what the callous prince had done, she only asked, “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

  The gorgeous heiress dabbed carefully at the mascara streaks under her eyes. But instead of answering Gabriella’s question, she said, “I thought things were moving along nicely, that we were moving toward being exclusive.”

  “Men are usually a few steps behind women when it comes to relationships,” Gabriella said lightly.

  “I could have handled it if he said he needed more time, but he said we should take a break, spend some time apart.”

  Gabriella winced, understanding how harshly those insensitive words would slice through a heart that was filled with love. On the other hand, they weren’t nearly as cold as the words—and the fistful of cash—he’d once thrown at her.

  “Everyone warned me that he was a snake,” Allegra continued, “but I didn’t believe them. I didn’t want to believe them, because he was always so considerate and charming.”

  Calling Cameron Leandres a snake was an insult to snakes, but Gabriella kept that assessment to herself, knowing that it would do nothing to ease Allegra’s pain.

  “After almost six months, he’s suddenly changed his mind about what he wants?” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I want to hate him. There’s a part of me that does hate him. But a bigger part really does love him.” She dabbed at the streaks of mascara again, then her eyes suddenly went wide. “I’m so sorry—you must have a husband or a boyfriend or someone waiting for you—”

  “It’s okay,” Gabriella assured her. “He won’t mind.”

  “He must be a real prince of a guy,” Allegra said softly.

  She smiled at the irony. “He really is.”

  “Then you’re a lucky woman.”

  Gabriella nodded. “So what are your plans for the rest of the night? Are you going back to your date—” she deliberately didn’t use Cameron’s name or title because she didn’t want Allegra to know that she’d guessed his identity “—or do you want the maitre d’ to call a cab for you?”

  “I can’t go back out there. I threw my champagne in his face.”

  Gabriella nearly choked trying to hold back a laugh. “Then you don’t have to,” she assured the other woman. “You wait here, and I’ll come back to get you when your cab has arrived.”

  “You’re being very kind,” Allegra said gratefully.

  “I’ve been where you are,” she said, then, taking in the luxurious surroundings, she smiled wryly. “Well, not exactly. But I’ve had my heart broken before, so I can relate—at least a little—to what you’re feeling right now.”

  She took a quick detour to where Rafe was seated, to let him know what she was doing before she tracked down the maitre d’. She tried to apologize for the interruption of the romantic evening he’d planned but, Rafe being Rafe, he understood.

  After she watched Allegra’s cab pull away, she turned—and came face-to-face with Prince Cameron Leandres for the second time that day.

  “I can just imagine the headlines that are scrolling through your mind,” he said, a definite edge to his voice.

  She smiled, unable to resist taunting him. “I doubt that you can.”

  “Why don’t you give me a chance to tell my side of the story?”

  “Because I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” She started to move past him, but he caught her arm.

  The jolt of heat that shot through her veins in response to the contact was as unwelcome as it was unexpected. As low as her opinion was of him, she had to wonder what it said about her that the briefest touch could send her pulse racing. Except that her heart had been pounding even before he’d touched her—even before she’d seen him standing there. It was as if she was hardwired to respond to this man as she’d never responded to anyone else before or since their long-ago affair.

  But while she couldn’t deny her instinctive reaction to him, she had no intention of letting him know the effect he had on her. Instead of yanking her arm from his grasp, as she wanted to do, she simply looked at his hand and lifted her brows, deliberately cool and unaffected.

  His fingers uncurled, his hand dropped away. “Of course not,” he said sardonically. “It’s just about selling papers, right?”

  “That’s my job,” she reminded him, then moved past him to return to her date.

  But she was obviously more flustered than she wanted to admit, because as soon as she got back to the table, Rafe was on his feet, his brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

  She forced a smile. “Yeah. It’s just been a really long day.”

  “I ordered pizza,” he told her.

  She glanced up, startled. “Pizza?”

  “From Pinelli’s,” he explained. “We can pick it up on the way back to your place.”

  “But—”

  He touched a finger to her lips, silencing her protest. “We’ll do this again some other time,” he promised her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  And she was sorry that she’d ruined the mood he’d so carefully set—but she was also relieved that he wouldn’t be getting down on one knee tonight.

  “Don’t be,” he said, and brushed his lips against hers.

  The gentle kiss was as steady and reliable as the man who kissed her. There was no startling jolt of awareness, no unexpected surge of heat, nothing she couldn’t handle. And Gabriella was glad for that. She didn’t ever want to feel out of control again.

  Rafe tossed more than enough cash on the table to pay for the bottle of champagne they’d barely touched and compensate the waiter for the tip on the hefty dinner tab he was missing out on as a result of their premature exit. Then they picked up two extra-large cheese and pepperoni pizzas on the way home, to share with Sierra and Paolo and Katarina, Gabriella’s mother who had canceled her own plans in order to stay home and chaperone the young couple.

  In the comfort of her home, surrounded by family, Gabriella found herself relaxing again. And when Rafe said that he was going to call it a night, she exhaled a silent sigh of relief as she walked him to the door. Obviously her suspicions about his intentions tonight had been off-base. As she’d told Allegra, women usually started thinking about commitment before men and Rafe was obviously happy with the status quo.

  Or so she thought until he pulled a small, square box out of his jacket pocket.

  Her eyes went wide, her breath caught, and she felt a fine sheen of perspiration bead on her brow.

  Rafe chuckled, but the sound was strained. “Honestly, Gabriella, I’ve never known another woman who would blanch at the sight of a jeweler’s box.”

  She swallowed, forced a smile. “I don’t like to be predictable.”

  “No worries there.” He flipped open the lid, and her eyes dropped back to the box with the same combination of fascination and trepidation that compelled passersby to gawk at the scene of an accident.

  “Wow,” she said, and swallowed again.

  “I’ve had this ring for a couple of months now. I brought it with me tonight because I thought—I’d hoped—you might finally be ready to wear it.” He closed the lid again and pressed the box into her hand. “But I know you’re not, so I’m only going to ask you to hold on to it until you are.”

  She looked up at him, hoping he knew how truly sorry she was that she couldn’t take the ring out of the box and put it on her finger. And hoping, just as desperately, that someday she
would be ready.

  It was with more than a little apprehension that Cameron unfolded his newspaper the next morning. Seeing nothing on the front page that was cause for concern, he turned the page. By the time he got to the “Around Town” section, he was mentally drafting his resignation, certain that nothing he could say or do would save his political career after Gabriella Vasquez had pried all the intimate details of his latest failed relationship from his obviously unhappy ex-girlfriend. But the headline at the top of the page—American Actress Storms Off Set—gave him pause.

  Although he didn’t usually read the gossip columns, he forced himself to do so now, to ensure that he wasn’t somehow to blame for the actress’s behavior.

  He skimmed several paragraphs about the drama that had taken place during filming of a romantic comedy in San Pedro, and then he found his name at the bottom of the page.

  In other news: a rep for native supermodel Arianna Raquel has confirmed that the twenty-four-year-old is expecting her first child with Russian composer, Pavel Belyakova; and Prince Cameron and long-time girlfriend Allegra de Havilland were spotted dining at L’Atelier Friday evening.

  He turned the page, looking for more. But that was it—barely a footnote at the very bottom of the page.

  He exhaled a sigh, as surprised as he was relieved, and even more curious.

  It was the curiosity that led him to track her down at her home and ask, “Why?”

  Gabriella stared at him, appearing as surprised by his presence at her door at this early hour as by the inquiry.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded, completely disregarding his question to ask her own.

  There was something in his tone that warned him she wasn’t just surprised that he was there but…scared?

  No, he was obviously misreading the situation. As she’d already proven that her pen was mightier than his sword, she had nothing to fear from him.

  He shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t want to have another conversation where we’d be surrounded by reporters.”