âI canât get involved with you, Mac.
âWhy not?â
âFor starters, you work for me.â
âOK, I quit.â
Jewel laughed, though the intensity with which he was staring at her made her suspect that he wasnât entirely joking.
âAnyway, you lost the race.â
âYou cheated.â
She lifted a brow. âHow do you figure?â âYou started first.â
âJust because you were slow out of the gateââ
The rest of the words lodged in her throat when his arm snaked around her waist. âNo oneâs ever accused me of being slow out of the gate.â
âWell -â she gave herself a moment to acknowledge the delicious little sparks that zinged through her system â- you were this time.â
âMaybe I was,â he acknowledged, drawing her closer. âOr maybe I chose finesse over speed.â
âYou still lost.â
He smiled. âI donât think so.â
Then he kissed her.
Brenda Harlen grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practising as a lawyer (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her ârealâ job to be a mum and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book.
Brenda lives in Southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (âtoo many books,â according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with ârealâ people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at [email protected]
âDoes it give you ideas?â
Prince Marcus Santiago of Tesoro del Mar glanced down at his dance partner and found her smiling up at him with big blue eyes filled with promises she was far too young to be making. Heâd been holding her at a careful distance, not wanting to give her any encouragement or the press any reason to speculate that he was interested in more than waltzing with a guest at his brotherâs wedding, but clearly she hadnât taken the hint.
âNo.â His answer was succinct and unequivocal.
âIâll bet if you met the right woman youâd change your mind.â
âMaybe if I met her at the right time,â he conceded, though he sincerely doubted it. âBut Iâve got to finish university before I even start thinking about settling down.â
She pouted prettily. âAre you really going back to Harvard next week?â
âOnly because the university has this annoying expectation that a student attend classes and write exams in order to earn a degree.â
She laughed prettily. âBut youâre not really going to be a lawyer.â
âArenât I?â
âOf course not. Youâre a prince.â
âThe two titles arenât mutually exclusive,â he said dryly.
Her eyelashes fluttered. âI only meant that you donât need to work.â
He couldnât prevent the smile that curved his lips. Clearly this girl had no idea what it meant to be a royal. The truth was, he didnât know anyone who worked harder or longer than his brother Rowan. As the youngest, Marcus didnât bear the same burden of responsibilities, but he wasnât exactly given a free ride, either.
She shifted closer to him, lowered her voice. âIf you must go away, maybe we could go somewhere to share a private goodbye.â
He was relieved to note that the song was winding down to a finish. He touched his lips briefly to the back of her hand and stepped back. âRight now, I must speak with my brother.â
Disappointment clouded her eyes as she dropped into a curtsy. âOf course, Your Highness. Maybe later?â
He didnât bother to respond.
That was exactly why Marcus wasnât a big fan of weddings. It wasnât so much that he was opposed to the institution of marriageânot for other people, anyway. No, what he disliked was the effect that they seemed to have on the single females in attendance. It was as if they suddenly couldnât see anything but wedding gowns and bouquets of flowers and any unmarried man who happened in their path as a potential candidate for the altar. No thank youâno way.
There were just too many women out thereâfun women, smart women, beautiful womenâto want to commit to a single one. If he ever met a woman who was all of those things, he might reconsider his attitude toward matrimony, but he was doubtful.
He snagged a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and carried it to the terrace where heâd seen his brother Eric disappear. He found him in the shadows, nursing a drink of his own.
âHiding out?â Marcus asked him.
Eric grinned. âAnd not ashamed to admit it.â
He leaned back against the stone balustrade and crossed his feet at the ankles. âSo how many times have you been asked if Rowanâs wedding has given you ideas about getting married?â