The Prince's Holiday Baby

Molly’s breath caught. “I have never seen a sunset like that.”

“And I have never seen anything like you framed by the sunset,” he said.

Then his mouth covered hers.

His lips were warm and firm, confident in their mastery. And, once again, there was no hesitation in her response.

The warm strength of his arms around her wasn’t just familiar, it was right. And the explosion of sensations made her mind spin, her heart pound and her body yearn.

He found the pins that held her twist in place and slipped them out so that her hair spilled into his hands. His fingers sifted through the tresses, caught the ends to tip her head back, changing the angle and deepening the kiss.

She wanted him—there was no denying that fact. But she couldn’t let herself get caught up in the moment, the romance, the fantasy.

There was too much at stake now.

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 “real” 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 (“too many books,” according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at [email protected].

In memory of Tom Torrance—January

28, 1951-March 6, 2008

A teacher and mentor and friend;

a genuine prince among men.

“You didn’t need to come over here, Grandma. I told you on the phone that I was fine.”

Theresa Shea plunked her purse on the bar and narrowed her gaze on her granddaughter behind the counter at Shea’s Bar & Grill. Yes, she certainly looked fine. But Molly had always been one to keep her chin up no matter how much her heart was breaking inside. And she’d had a lot of heartbreak to deal with over the past six months.

“Maybe I needed to see for myself.”

“And now you have.”

“And now that I’m here, maybe I’d like a cup of coffee.”

Molly poured her a cup of coffee, pushed it across the counter.

She’d been working there for so many years now, she didn’t even have to think about the tasks anymore. Everything was automatic, routine, and not at all what James Shea wanted for his daughter.

“What are you doing here?” Theresa asked softly.

“Right now? Trying to figure out the produce order for next week.”

“He wanted you to go to college, to do something more.”

Her granddaughter’s fingers tightened around the pencil in her hand, but there was no other outward sign of the emotions that were churning inside her. Molly didn’t talk about her father but Theresa knew he was in her thoughts almost constantly, especially here, at the restaurant that had been his livelihood and his life. And she knew that Molly was so determined to hold on to Shea’s because it was the only part of her father she had left.

“I’m happy here,” Molly finally said.

“Are you?”

Molly continued punching numbers into the calculator, frowned.

Theresa tried a different tack. “Do you ever write anymore?”

“I write checks to pay the bills.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s all I have time for right now.”

“You have to learn to take time for the things that are more enoyable than necessary.”

“I will,” Molly promised. “After all the necessary things are done.”

Theresa picked up her purse. She knew when she was banging her head against a wall and her granddaughter’s stubbornness was a brick wall.

“All right, I’ll go. But if you need anything—”

Molly leaned across the counter to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “I won’t. I’ll be fine.”

Which was exactly why Theresa was worried.

The phone rang as she turned away, and Molly reached for it. Theresa didn’t hear the words she spoke, but the tone gave her pause. When Molly hung up, she said only one word, “Abbey.”

Molly’s sister, Theresa’s youngest granddaughter, had disappeared ** a few days earlier after leaving a note that said only “don’t worry—I’ll be home in a few days” and absolutely nothing about where she was going or who she was with.

“Where is she?”

“Las Vegas.” Molly swallowed. “With Jason.”

Theresa didn’t want to ask, was certain she already knew, and her granddaughter’s next words confirmed it.

“She just married my fiancé.”

Nine years later—

Prince Eric Santiago lied when he told his best friend that he had a plane to catch. The truth was, his pilot wasn’t coming to pick him up for the return trip to Tesoro del Mar until the following morning, but after almost two weeks with Scott Delsey and his soon-to-be-wife, Eric needed some space. Spending so much time with the blissful couple and seeing how in love they were only made him more aware of what was missing from his own life.