The Prince's Second Chance Page 8
“Why are you being obstinate about this?”
“Maybe because I’m her mother and I know that Sierra isn’t old enough or responsible enough for a car of her own, and even if she was, I wouldn’t let her drive around in a brand-new lemon-yellow sports car.”
“So it’s the specific kind of vehicle and not the car itself that you have a problem with?”
She shook her head. “Take it back.”
He frowned. “And get her what instead?”
“A gift certificate for the movies. A basket of bath products. A teddy bear.” She ticked the suggestions off on her fingertips.
He lifted his brows. “A teddy bear?”
“Something casual and inexpensive,” she explained.
“I think she’d rather have the car.”
“She’d love the car,” Gabriella admitted. “Just as she’d love an unlimited shopping allowance or a trip to New York City, but she doesn’t expect to have either of those things handed to her, either.”
Cameron frowned. “Why would she want to go to New York City? Did your American friend offer to take her there?”
She sighed. “This isn’t about Rafe—it’s about you getting that car away from here before Sierra gets home.”
“All right,” he finally agreed, but when he looked over at the car again, regret was clearly etched in his features. “It’s too bad, though. She’s a beautiful vehicle and drives like a dream.”
“What is a dream to you would be a nightmare to me, because I’d worry every time she drove away from the house,” she told him.
“I’m sure you’ve had enough worries, raising Sierra on your own for sixteen years, and it certainly wasn’t my intention to add to that.”
She was surprised by the sincerity in his tone, touched by his understanding. “I haven’t been entirely on my own,” she reminded him. “I’ve had my mother to help out along the way.”
“And now you have me.”
“Cameron—”
He touched his fingers to her lips, silencing her protest. “I realize that we have a lot of details still to work out, but I want you to know that I’m not going to walk away this time. Not from Sierra, and not from you.”
Somehow his words left her feeling more apprehensive than reassured.
Cameron decided to go with the teddy bear. Of the options Gabriella had enumerated, it seemed the best choice. Or so he thought, until he began to search and realized there were many different sizes, colors and styles of bears. In the end, he found what he was looking for in a specialty children’s shop down at the waterfront.
When he returned to the house, just before nine o’clock, the party was in full swing. Gabriella had suggested that it would be simpler if he came after the “surprise” part so he didn’t have to explain to anyone who he was or answer too many questions about why he was there. As it turned out, most of Sierra’s friends either didn’t recognize him or didn’t care, because they barely paid any attention to him when he arrived. Music was pumping out of speakers and many of the party guests were crowded together on the small patio and moving to the music while others danced happily on the lawn. To be relatively unobtrusive in a crowd was a new experience, but he didn’t mind. It allowed him to hover in the background and observe Sierra.
His daughter.
He watched her move through the crowd, stopping now and again to talk and laugh with her friends, or swaying her hips and tossing her head in tune with the music. For some reason, he found himself thinking of Riley—his brother’s daughter, and the way she’d spun in circles watching the skirt of her dress twirl around her legs. And suddenly he was thinking about how much time he’d missed with his own child—who was already a woman.
He wondered what she’d looked like as a baby, whether he would have recognized any parts of himself in her features. Had she been a shy toddler who hid behind her mother’s legs whenever a stranger spoke to her, or one of those precocious children who was happy to make friends with everyone who crossed her path? And the more he thought about all these things that he didn’t know, the angrier he got.
He heard a soft, familiar laugh and glanced over as Gabriella stepped onto the porch, a glass of wine in each hand. It was her fault. As far as he was concerned, she was the one who had deprived him of the opportunity to share in all of Sierra’s milestones and moments—and not just the big events, like her first day of school and special occasions, but all of the ordinary days in between.
He wanted to hate her. He should hate her. She was the reason he didn’t know the beautiful girl on the dance floor who was his daughter. But just looking at Gabriella—in a halter-style top that left her tanned shoulders bare and a long swirling skirt with painted toes peeking out beneath—he felt a complicated mix of emotions, none of which was hate.
She was somehow even sexier now than she’d been when they first met, and despite their history and secrets, he was just as attracted to her now as he’d been back then.
Lust flares hot and bright and burns out quickly. Love endures.
He pushed the echo of his sister’s words from his mind. He was not in love with Gabriella. Maybe he didn’t hate her, but he didn’t forgive her, either. Which only made it all the more difficult to figure out how the hell he was supposed to deal with her.
He watched her approach. Her bare feet made no sound on the deck, but there was a rope of gold chain slung low on her hips that jangled with every step she took. She’d always had an innate sensuality that stirred his blood, and his response was immediate and intense.
She was smiling, as if she was truly happy to see him. He knew she was only playing her part, giving him an excuse for being there. And while part of him wanted to curse her for the fact that he needed an excuse, a bigger part was content to simply enjoy looking at her.
As his gaze zeroed in on her mouth, he couldn’t help but remember the day of their picnic in the park. Kissing her in the shadows of the trees. The taste of her sweet lips, the press of her soft body against his, the passion of her response. As he pushed the memories to the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if his feelings for Gabriella had always been more complicated than he’d wanted to acknowledge.
She offered him one of the glasses she carried. “It’s a cabernet. Not up to your usual standards, I’m sure, but decent.”
He took the glass, sipped, and nodded in agreement with her assessment. “Was she surprised?”
Gabriella’s lips curved. “She pretended to be. But more importantly, she’s with her family and friends and having fun.”
“Not all of her family,” he noted.
She sighed. “Tell me again why I let you come.”
“Because you knew you couldn’t keep me away.”
“I guess that would explain it.” She nudged him toward a long table that was laden down with enormous platters of food. There were hot and cold hors d’oeuvres, crudités and dips, little sandwiches and quiches, mini-pastries and assorted sweets, and an enormous bowl of punch. “But since you’re here, you might as well have something to eat.”
He picked up a plate. “It’s quite a spread you’ve put out.”
“Teenagers—even teenage girls—like to eat, and my mother likes to fuss.”
“She did all of this?”
“Most of it,” Gabriella admitted. “I was assigned a few simple tasks—chopping vegetables, cutting sandwiches—basically, things that I couldn’t screw up too badly.”
“You’re not much of a cook?”
She shook her head. “That domestic talent seems to have skipped my generation. Sierra, on the other hand, is a natural in the kitchen.”
Just one more thing that he hadn’t known. But before he could comment on it, someone lowered the volume on the music to announce that it was time for Sierra to open her gifts. Gabriella tugged on his arm, drawing him closer to the crowd that had gathered around the birthday girl.
The presents had been set on another table, and he’d added his to the pile wh
en he’d arrived. Sierra took her time opening each one, exclaiming over every item and sincerely thanking the individual giver. There were CDs and DVDs and books and clothes, and she seemed genuinely delighted with each item. And yet, when she picked up the glossy pink bag that contained his gift, Cameron felt his palms go damp and his breath catch in his throat.
She read the card, then her eyes searched for him in the crowd. He’d signed it simply “Cameron” and she took the cue, introducing him to the gathering as a friend of her mother’s without mention of his title. Then she pulled the tissue out of the bag and reached inside, making a soft sound of surprised pleasure when she found the bear. She held it to her breast, her eyes sparkling and her lips curving wide, and Cameron’s heart started to beat again.
Gabriella watched her daughter cuddle the teddy bear that Cameron had given to her, Sierra’s first gift from her father, and her heart simply melted.
It wasn’t the casual, inexpensive gift that Gabriella had suggested. Even from a distance, she could see the tag on the left ear that identified the bear as a Steiff. But Sierra’s appreciation of the gift had nothing to do with its price tag and everything to do with her pleasure at being able to add the gorgeous blond mohair bear to her collection.
“Good call,” she murmured to Cameron.
“It was your idea,” he reminded her.
“And thank you—for backing down on the car.”
He shrugged. “You know her better than I do, obviously, and if you say she isn’t ready, then I’ll respect your judgment on that.”
“It’s not the only thing she isn’t ready for,” she warned.
“You’re worried about her learning the truth about who I am,” he guessed.
She nodded.
“When do you think she will be ready?” He was trying to be patient, but he’d already lost sixteen years with his daughter and he didn’t intend to lose any more.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m just asking you to give her a chance to get to know you first, before you turn her whole world upside down.”
“Is it really Sierra’s world that you’re worried about—or your own?”
She heard the challenge in his voice, and thought she understood. Finding out that he’d fathered a child so many years ago had obviously affected him, but he still didn’t—couldn’t—know what it meant to truly be a parent. He couldn’t know that Sierra’s world and her world were one and the same, that when Sierra hurt, Gabriella hurt right along with her.
“In a lot of ways, Sierra is very mature for her age. So much so that I sometimes forget that she’s only sixteen, that her heart is still vulnerable. And while I have no doubt there’s a part of her that still yearns for a father as much as she did when she was ten, she’s not going to be as unquestioning or accepting of your sudden appearance in her life as she would have been back then.”
“Then maybe you should have found me six years ago,” he retorted. “Better yet, sixteen years ago.”
“Because you would have been thrilled to learn that you were a father,” she said, not even trying to mask her sarcasm.
“No,” he admitted. “But at least I would have known.”
“I tried to tell you,” she reminded him. She didn’t want to talk about what was still a painful memory for her, but she couldn’t let him continue to play the injured party without bearing any responsibility for the choices they’d both made. “You didn’t even know who I was.”
He winced. “That’s not true—”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice sharp. “I’d heard the rumors. I knew that you were just looking for a good time. But I let myself believe that we had something special, that you really cared about me. Of course, you made sure I believed it—because you knew it was the only way you would get me into bed.”
“I did care about you, dammit.”
She turned away, refusing to listen to his lies, refusing to acknowledge that there was still a tiny part of her heart that wanted to believe him. “I’m going to get the cake.”
Chapter Eight
Cameron followed her into the house.
He wasn’t ready to let their conversation drop, but he realized that their daughter’s birthday party might not be the best time or place to continue it. He wanted answers. There was so much he wanted to know, but he also knew that he had to be prepared to face Gabriella’s questions—and Sierra’s, too—to explain the things he’d said and done so many years ago, to accept responsibility for his own actions.
For now, he only watched as Gabriella carefully arranged sixteen pink candles around the elaborately scrolled letters that spelled out “Happy Sweet Sixteen, Sierra.”
“More of your mother’s work?” he asked.
Gabriella nodded.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Wait until you taste it,” she told him. “Dominic Donatella has been trying to wrangle her buttercream icing recipe out of her for more than twenty years.”
“Donatella—as in Donatella’s Bakery?”
She nodded again, but her eyes—still focused on the cake—filled with tears.
“Gabriella?”
“Sorry, birthdays always make me a little nostalgic, and I can’t believe it’s her sixteenth already.” She blew out a soft breath. “When she was little, she used to think really hard about her wish, then she’d squeeze her eyes shut and blow with all of her might. She was so serious about her wishes, so certain she could make them come true.”
“Do you know what kinds of things she wished for?”
“A lot of the usual things—dolls and puppies and ponies. And then, the year she turned ten, she told me that what she really wanted, more than anything in the world, was to be a princess.”
She made a show of counting the candles again, while Cameron considered this revelation. He was sure it wasn’t an unusual wish for a little girl, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Gabriella had responded to her daughter’s statement.
“You could have made that wish come true for her,” he felt compelled to point out. “All you had to do was acknowledge the truth about her paternity.”
“I thought about it,” Gabriella admitted. “Not because it was Sierra’s wish, but because I wanted her to know her father, and for her to know you.”
“Then why didn’t you?” he demanded. “If you really wanted me to know, why didn’t you ever make any effort to contact me? Why is it that the only reason I found out about my daughter is that I tracked you down and came face-to-face with her?”
She glanced away. “I couldn’t get in touch with you.”
He scowled. “Are you claiming you didn’t know how to reach me?”
“No, I’m saying that I couldn’t. Because I’d made a promise.”
“What kind of promise?” he demanded. “To whom?”
“Gabriella—”
They both started at the interruption.
“—are you bringing the cake?” Katarina’s question preceded her entry into the kitchen. “Oh.” She glanced from Gabriella to Cameron and back again. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”
“You’re not,” Gabriella responded quickly. “I was just looking for the matches.”
“In the cupboard over the fridge, where we’ve always kept them,” her mother pointed out.
“Right.” Gabriella moved away from him, rising onto her tiptoes to retrieve the long box.
Cameron hovered in the background, feeling uneasy under the older woman’s scrutiny. He’d never had occasion to meet Gabriella’s mother before. When he and Gabriella had first started seeing each other, they’d each had their own reasons for wanting to keep the relationship a secret. He wondered if Gabriella had ever told her mother that he was Sierra’s father, and guessed not. Katarina looked like the kind of woman who would have tracked him down and kicked his ass to hell and back if she’d known. But he also guessed, based on the narrow-eyed stare that pinned him now, that she’d figured it out—or at least had some suspicions.
“I know who I am and who you are,” she said. “I didn’t come in to exchange pleasantries, only to check on the cake.”
“Madre!” Gabriella chided, her cheeks coloring slightly.
“I will not apologize for speaking my mind,” Katarina told her. “And while I appreciate that you are Sierra’s mother and want what is best for her, I don’t see how encouraging a relationship between your daughter and this man—a man who wasn’t there for you, who did nothing to help when your baby almost died—could be best for her. It would be far better for her to never know the identity of her father than to know he is a man who could turn his back on the girl he got pregnant and the innocent child she bore.”
He didn’t respond to Katarina’s outburst but turned to Gabriella for clarification. “What does she mean—your baby almost died?”
But she only shook her head, shooting an angry look at her mother. “I’m not going to do this now.”
“Dammit, Gabriella. I deserve to know—”
“Today is a celebration,” she interrupted, her voice deliberately calm as she tucked the matches under arm and picked up the cake. “And Sierra is waiting.”
So he bided his time. He wasn’t particularly happy about it, but he waited. He watched the birthday girl blow out her candles and eat her cake, saw her kiss her grandmother’s cheek and wrap her arms—cast and all—around her mother. There was such easy affection between the three women, evidence of the solid bond between all of them.
Gabriella had given their daughter a good life—with help from her mother, of course—and Sierra was obviously happy. What right did he have to barge into their lives at this late date and upset the status quo?
Yes, he was Sierra’s father, but that was an accident of biology rather than any particular planning on his part. As Katarina pointed out, he hadn’t been there for Gabriella through her pregnancy or childbirth or any of the other stages of Sierra’s life until now. And why was he here now?