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CHAPTER SIX

KELLY woke to the sound of shouting in the forecourt. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was—the strange bed and the thick stone walls and narrow casement windows confused her. Then, as the events of the last few days flooded back, her bedroom door was flung open and Matty launched himself across her bed.

‘Uncle Rafael’s toys are here,’ he said. ‘Mama, come and see. Come and see.’

‘I don’t…’

‘You have to come,’ he said before she could protest. ‘There’s pancakes for breakfast and Cook’s made heaps and heaps ’cos the truck drivers have come all the way from the border this morning and Anna’s here and she’s really crabby and I’ll sit on your bed and wait for you to get dressed.’

She stared at her little son, helpless in the face of his enthusiasm. How could she tell him she’d been thinking of putting a little kitchenette up here, so that she didn’t have to go down to the royal kitchens?

What sort of mother would say that?

He wanted her to come.

She peered through the casement. Men were unloading vast crates, carrying them into the main entrance.

‘Where’s Rafael?’

‘He’s in the dungeons,’ Matty said with relish, as if the dungeons were truly gruesome. ‘Cook said once upon a time there were ghosts in our dungeons with clanking chains, but Uncle Rafael said that the best way to get rid of ghosts is to bury them with sawdust. He’s working already. Anna says he’s burying his head in the sand but I think he’s burying it in sawdust.’

‘Well,’ Kelly said cautiously, digesting this with care. She’d spent a lot of time figuring things out before she’d gone to sleep. Rafael had kissed her. Rafael was a de Boutaine. The man was obviously a womaniser, just like Kass.

She could deal with this situation, she thought. Disdain—that was the way to go. And distance.

‘Maybe if Rafael’s working I can come down to breakfast.’

‘And then come to the stables?’ Matty pleaded. ‘Will you come riding?’

‘I don’t ride,’ she said flatly. She pushed back her bedcovers. The silk dress was draped over the bedside chair. She pushed it back so it fell on to the floor behind, out of sight. ‘Sorry, Matty, but that’s an absolute.’

It was like a vast family. The huge kitchen was filled with people and noise and food.

For Kelly, whose only experience at the castle was silence, fear and formality, the sight that met her eyes as she walked into the kitchen was almost astonishing.

There was a big, buxom woman flipping pancakes in the world’s biggest frying-pan on the vast electric range. There were two younger girls, one stirring what seemed to be a vat of batter, the other peeling a mound of potatoes a foot high. The men Kelly had seen carting the crates were seated at one end of the table, wrapping themselves round mounds of the pancakes, looking as if all their Christmases had come at once. Laura was there, talking to a man Kelly recognized as Crater. Crater. The sight of him made her flinch. She hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived yesterday.

There was a younger woman as well—tall, almost statuesque, looking svelte in cream linen trousers and a lovely Aran pullover. Her blonde hair was piled high in an elegantly casual knot, she wore fabulous, dangling silver earrings and she looked amazing.

Kelly recognized her from the photograph she’d seen on the Internet—Anna.

‘I’ve brought Mama down to breakfast,’ Matty said in his clear voice, and everyone in the kitchen turned and looked at her. Kelly wanted to run.

But Matty had her hand and was tugging her forward. ‘I said we were having pancakes so she came,’ he said and Crater rose from his seat next to Laura and came round the table with his hand outstretched in welcome.

‘Princess Kellyn. Your Highness.’

‘Kelly,’ she whispered, and dropped Matty’s hand and backed instinctively away. The last time she’d talked to this man he’d been talking through the impossibility of her ever seeing her son again. She couldn’t bear it.

‘I need to apologise,’ the elderly man said softly, but Anna was suddenly there, standing beside Crater, looking belligerent.

‘Hell, no,’ she said. ‘Don’t apologise to this woman. She’s stuffed my life.’

‘Hey,’ Rafael said from the doorway behind her. He’d come in behind her without her hearing. ‘She’s stuffed whose life?’

‘Everyone’s,’ Anna said. ‘Every single one of our kids.’

‘Whose kids?’ Kelly asked blankly.

‘Twenty kids thinking he’s their hero,’ Anna said bitterly. ‘Twenty kids…’

‘Who now need to swap their allegiance to you,’ Rafael told her.

‘I don’t do kids,’ Anna said flatly. ‘I run a business. A business, Rafael, not a damned charity. Here you are, hauling the personal stuff over here, and if you think…’

‘I absolutely think,’ Rafael said and put his arms round her and hugged her.

But Anna hadn’t finished with her grievance yet. She swiped his hands away and glowered. ‘Don’t you try your sweet-talk on me. Richard’s having all sorts of fits—he didn’t even want me to come now. And how the hell Kelly got you here…’

‘I don’t think I know what’s going on,’ Kelly said.

‘That’s because you haven’t had breakfast,’ Laura said calmly, rising from the table and handing her a warmed plate. ‘Wrap yourself round some pancakes.’

‘Then you can come down and see what I have in my dungeons. Meanwhile, we need to stop Anna being mean to you,’ Rafael said. ‘Come on, Anna, you can handle it. It’s not like I had any choice.’

‘Because of Kelly.’ Anna glowered. ‘You said you’d just need to spend a little time here for ceremonial duties, that all you had to do was persuade Kellyn to take over her rightful role and you could fade into the background again. Someone take that woman’s pancakes away from her.’

‘Not on your life,’ Kelly said, concentrating on the only thing she could understand. Cook was ladling a stack of hot pancakes on to her plate and they smelled extraordinary. She didn’t have a clue what was happening between Rafael and Anna, but guilt was hovering, ready to pounce.

She didn’t have to accept it. She didn’t have to find out what Anna was talking about, she told herself. Rafael’s life was none of her business. She sat at the far end of the table, one of the truckers handed her a jug of maple syrup and she got down to business.

‘I knew you’d like pancakes,’ Matty said, pleased, and she smiled at his pleasure. This was her business—making her son smile.

The kitchen felt great, she thought as she ate. It was big and warm and friendly. She didn’t feel out of place back in her jeans and baggy sweater. Even Anna’s hostility seemed not particularly hostile—more resigned.

It was none of her business but some things seemed impossible. Maybe she could just ask…

‘So you two have twenty children?’ she ventured cautiously, and Rafael choked.

‘Right. You see what you’ve done?’

‘They might as well be your kids,’ Anna retorted, unabashed. ‘For all the trouble you’ve put into them.’

‘I don’t have twenty kids,’ Rafael said. ‘I have a sheltered workshop which employs twenty disabled young men and women.’

‘Who are currently ready to hate the Princess Kellyn of Alp de Ciel,’ Anna said. ‘Because you’ve taken away their precious Rafael.’

‘Oh,’ Kelly said in a small voice.

‘He had to come away anyway,’ Laura said.

‘Not all the time, he didn’t,’ Anna said. ‘When Kass died he said he might have to spend a bit more time here. Not all the time.’

‘So it’s my fault,’ Kelly said.

‘Yes,’ Anna retorted. Kelly thought about it. Rafael was looking at her as if he was quite happy for her to take the blame. How unfair was that?

‘You’d think someone could have told me,’ she said bluntly and fixed him with a look that put the blame right back where it belonged.

He didn’t look the least bit guilty. He grinned. His grin made her feel warm from the toes up.

Ridiculous!

‘You didn’t tell her?’ Anna demanded, turning back to Rafael.

‘What was I supposed to tell her?’ Rafael asked.

‘How I’m dependent on you.’

‘I told Kelly I had a partner.’

‘Just not twenty kids.’

‘It seemed a bit over-dramatic.’

‘Rafael makes toys,’ Laura said, taking pity on Kelly’s confusion. ‘Rafael has the most wonderful sheltered workshop in the world. He’s built it up from one tiny idea, and now they export all over the world.’

‘Robo-Craft,’ Kelly said. ‘He did tell me that.’ She frowned. So what hadn’t he told her? Her ultimatum had real repercussions, not just for Rafael? She set down her knife and fork, her appetite suddenly gone.

‘It’s not like I’m closing down,’ Rafael told her quickly. ‘I’m just moving development here. Production will stay in Manhattan, overseen by Anna.’

‘Who keeps trying to run the business like a business,’ Anna said, sighing theatrically. ‘Only production’s dropped already, as everyone loves Rafael.’

‘And now they have to learn to love Anna,’ Rafael said. ‘And they will.’

‘So…’ Kelly swallowed. There was a lot here to think about and she didn’t know whether she had it right yet. ‘So when I said you had to stay here…’

‘Then I had to reorganize my business,’ Rafael said. ‘Which I’ve done.’

‘And Anna’s your…?’

‘Business partner,’ Anna said bluntly. ‘More fool me. I’m an accountant.’

‘Not your…partner-partner?’

‘No,’ Anna said, astonished. ‘Why would you think that? I’d have brained him ten years ago if he was my partner-partner. Any sane woman would. Now my Richard—who is my partner-partner—is threatening to brain him for me.’

‘Oh,’ Kelly said. She was starting to feel wobbly.

Last night had seemed fraught. Dangerous. But last night she’d thought Rafael was messing around, being a typical de Boutaine, because Rafael had a partner.

This morning she’d discovered that Anna was his business partner. And she’d discovered more. That Rafael had some truly noble motives in there among his de Boutaine blood.

Last night she’d thought Rafael was sexy but a de Boutaine.

Now…now she just thought he was sexy. Clever. Skilled. Kind.

Unattached.

Very, very sexy.

She suddenly felt really, really exposed. The kitchen was too warm. It was almost claustrophobic.

She pushed her pancakes away.

‘Is something wrong?’ Laura asked, watching her with concern.

‘I didn’t want to blackmail anyone to come here.’

‘If you did, we’re very grateful to you,’ Crater said, smiling on her with approval. ‘We need Rafael to run this principality. Someone has to take on the Crown.’

‘But that’s me,’ Matty piped up. ‘You said I’m the Crown Prince. This country is my res…responsibility.’

‘Which Rafael will take care of for you until you’re of age,’ Crater told him gravely.

‘You said I have to look after my people. I am the Prince.’

It silenced them all—this wisp of a child calmly accepting a burden that Rafael and Kelly would do anything to avoid.

Kelly stared down at her half-eaten pancakes, gulped and hauled the plate back in front of her. Maybe she couldn’t bolt to her garret quite yet. But the pancakes didn’t taste as good.

‘You’ve taught Matty his royal duties?’ Rafael asked Crater.

Crater nodded unhappily. ‘He’s had lessons.’

‘Not from his father.’

‘No. But Kass has hardly been here. I’ve taken it upon myself…’

‘To load Matty with the burden of the Crown.’

‘There was hardly a choice,’ Crater said. ‘I could never have predicted what’s happened. This country’s desperate for leadership. Thankfully, now it’s up to you.’

Oh, help, Kelly thought.

Until now she’d hardly seen Rafael, she thought bleakly. Or she had seen him but she’d seen a de Boutaine.

Now, he stood alone, a big man, loose-limbed, dressed in casual trousers, an open-necked shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a streak of grease on his forehead.

He looked vulnerable, she thought suddenly. He looked as if he were backed into a corner he hated.

She could retire to her garret when she wished. He couldn’t.

‘You don’t have to worry.’ Matty was clearly trying hard to understand what was going on. He came to his big cousin’s side and slipped his hand into Rafael’s before Rafael could guess what he intended. ‘You can make your toys and I’ll be the Prince. My mama will help me be the Prince.’

‘Your mama intends to stay in her attic and read her books.’

‘You might persuade her to come out a bit,’ Anna said, enthusiastic again. ‘For long enough to let Rafael come back to Manhattan and make his kids happy from time to time.’

‘My life’s here,’ Rafael said, sounding as if it were a life sentence.

‘But you will help,’ Matty said to Kelly and she swallowed.

‘I…of course. When I can.’

But she was suddenly much more unsure than she had been last night. Dressing up last night had seemed…well, even a little bit of fun. But to go any further, and to do it by Rafael’s side when…when Anna wasn’t his partner…

‘I want you to ride with me,’ Matty said and her heart closed—snap—like a clam closing on expected pain.

‘Matty, I can’t.’

‘You can’t ride?’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘There’s lots of that about,’ Laura said sadly, standing and starting to clear plates. ‘Let’s just take each day as it comes. Starting now. We’ll get these trucks unpacked and that’ll make Rafael happy. He’ll have his dungeons to play in.’

‘And Mama will stay in her attic,’ Matty said. ‘Aunt Laura, it’s you and me who’ll have to be Prince and Princess.’

‘Aren’t you the lucky ones?’ Anna said and smiled, but Laura looked at her son’s partner as if she were a sandwich short of a picnic.

‘Anna, I’m afraid you don’t have a clue what these two are fighting,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, my dears, I wish I could help. But Matty…yes, until Rafael and your mama work themselves out then I guess we’re it.’

In the end, keeping herself to herself was easy. She just had to be ruthless. She just had to say no firmly to Matty and walk away.

The castle libraries were amazing. Distressed and confused on that first morning, while Laura took Matty down to the stables to chat to the horses and to listen to his adventures in Australia, Kelly roamed the shelves and found tomes and documents and charts that could keep a historian happy for a century or more.

She blocked out the sound of Matty’s voice drifting up from the courtyard. She blocked out the sound of the men’s voices unloading the trucks, Rafael giving orders, Anna arguing…

The gong sounded for lunch but she’d already warned Cook and Matty that she seldom stopped for lunch. She didn’t want to be part of that big familiar kitchen again. She worked on, trying to figure where to start. Maybe cataloguing to begin with. Mindless work while she got her bearings.

At about three in the afternoon she decided the castle was silent and she might conceivably have the kitchen to herself. She went down to make herself a sandwich.

She didn’t have the kitchen to herself. Rafael was seated alone at the vast table. He had a bottle of beer before him, and the remnants of a sandwich.

She blinked. Prince Regent of Alp de Ciel with a beer and a sandwich?

He looked up as she entered, like a kid who’d been caught in a crime.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, suppressing an involuntary smile, and tried to back out.

‘I know. I should be eating caviare patties and drinking champagne,’ he said mournfully. ‘But I kinda like beer. I’m happy to share, though. I’m not sure where the caviare is, but the makings of sandwiches are in the first refrigerator.’

‘I don’t need…’

‘If you’re like me, you do need. It’s just the whole company bit that worries you.’

She hesitated. Okay, it would be surly to back away now. She might as well eat. ‘So why does it worry you?’ she asked.

‘It’s not as bad as it used to be,’ he admitted. ‘Castle meals used to be a nightmare. A dining table twenty feet long with a damned great epergne set in the middle of it, so you couldn’t see who was at the far end. The minute Kass died my mother decreed that everyone—servants and all—would eat in here. Actually, until Kass died Matty would mostly eat at the dower house, but now Kass is dead my mother thinks Matty’s place is here.’

‘Matty thinks his place is here,’ she said cautiously and he nodded.

‘Yeah. How to give a man a guilty conscience…’ He swigged his beer from the bottle and watched her make a sandwich.

‘So where’s Anna?’ she asked.

‘Gone.’

‘Already?’

‘I’m guessing she thinks she might get stuck if she stays any longer,’ he said. ‘She came under protest, to make sure the more delicate bits of equipment were treated with respect. She hates that I’m staying. She gave me a blast and a half and then she retreated. She wants me to go back to Manhattan to talk to the kids.’

‘And will you?’

‘Not until after the coronation,’ he said morosely. ‘And even then…there’s a vast amount to do here. Sure, I don’t want to care. I think I’m forced to. I don’t have an attic.’

‘Don’t give me a hard time,’ she growled. ‘And, by the way, don’t try kissing me again.’

‘That was a mistake,’ he agreed gravely.

‘It certainly was.’

He watched her, considering. ‘You didn’t like it just a little bit?’

‘No.’

His eyes creased at the corners, with just the faintest hint of lurking laughter. ‘Liar.’

‘I fell in love with Kass,’ she reminded him. ‘One de Boutaine in a lifetime is enough.’

It took the teasing right away from his eyes. The laughter disappeared.

‘You kissed me because I look like Kass?’

‘Why else would I kiss you?’

‘Right,’ he said flatly. ‘Right.’

‘And you kissed me because?’ She shouldn’t ask, she thought, but the question had just sort of popped out before she could stop it.

‘God knows,’ he said bluntly. He shrugged. ‘God knows why I want to kiss you again now.’

‘You want to kiss me again now?’ Her voice broke on a squeak.

‘I do,’ he conceded. ‘Maybe it’s because I find your sweater almost irresistibly sexy.’

She looked down at her shapeless wool smock and she winced. It really was dreadful. She’d bought it mid-winter at a clearance sale and wore it for comfort. It was almost as old as Matty. Until now, she’d never worn it out of doors.

Once it had been crimson but it had faded with constant washing so now was a dreary pink. There was a moth hole in the bottom hem. She’d worried it a bit and the hole had extended.

‘Who knows what would happen if I ever saw you in lingerie,’ Rafael said bluntly. ‘Though, by the look of that sweater, I can only imagine what your lingerie’s like.’ He shook his head, set his beer bottle aside and rose. ‘A man could go hot and cold just thinking about it. I think I need to go and take a cold shower. If you’ll excuse me…’

‘So there’ll be no more kissing?’ she whispered before she could stop herself and thought frantically, Why did I do that? It was as if she was pushing to extend the conversation. Which surely she wasn’t.

She hadn’t.

‘If you’re kissing me back because I look like Kass, what do you think?’ he said heavily and left her to her sandwich.

It was the pattern of their days. Working on their private projects. Avoiding each other.

In a way it was the ideal method of getting to know her son, Kelly thought as the days progressed. Matty had his own life mapped out in this castle. Up until now he hadn’t had a mother and hadn’t really seen the need for one. To have her thrust upon him, demanding a part of his life, would be likely to overwhelm him.

But Matty loved the idea that he had a mother. He was disappointed that she didn’t seem interested in his passion—which was definitely horses—but the rest… He took to including her rooms as part of his domain. He followed the routine set down before his father had died—rigid meal times, introductory school work, working with Crater—but in between he’d hurry up to his mother’s rooms to report the latest news, to make her feel included.

He was a gracious, loving little boy, Kelly thought. She was blessed. And when, at the end of the first week, he announced that Marguerite had sore legs and she couldn’t go very far and would Mama like to come with him instead on his afternoon walks, Kelly thought this was as good as it got.

She had her son again. She didn’t have to include herself any more than occasionally in the life of the castle.

She could swallow guilt about the load Rafael was carrying. He was still a de Boutaine, and the way he made her feel scared her witless. She was right to stay aloof.

But, ‘Why don’t you like my Uncle Rafael?’ Matty asked as he skipped ahead through the fabulous woodland around the castle and she thought, uh-oh, had it been as obvious as that?

‘I don’t not like him.’

‘You haven’t even seen his dungeon.’

‘He hasn’t asked me.’

‘Yes, he did. He asked you to see it on the day all his tools arrived and you didn’t say anything. It’s really cool down there. You should see the things he’s making. He’s working on a new base at the moment that will fit spaceships. He says I can have the pro…prot…protype.’

‘Prototype?’

‘Yes,’ Matty said in satisfaction. ‘Will you come and see it?’

‘I think your Uncle Rafael is too busy for visitors.’

‘That’s silly,’ Matty said and tucked his hand confidingly into hers. ‘I want to show you the… prototype. Can you come and see when we get back from the walk?’

There was a cost, she thought. She’d accepted Matty’s invitation to walk with him with pleasure. How could she make the boundaries clear when she kept crossing them?

He was looking up at her, anxious, sensing that things weren’t right. ‘My Uncle Rafael is very kind,’ he said, as if he felt the need to reassure her.

‘I’m sure he is.’

‘He might even make you something.’

‘He makes things for children.’

‘And for big kids too,’ Matty said. ‘Aunt Laura and I read about Robo-Craft on the Internet. It says it’s for kids from five to a hundred and five. How old are you?’

‘Twenty-nine,’ she said faintly.

‘See,’ Matty said. ‘It’s perfect for you. You will come and see it, won’t you? Oh, look, Mama! There’s a deer with a baby.’

He was finding it really hard to concentrate. There were so many intrusions.

Back in Manhattan, the intrusions had all been work-related. They’d been annoying but Anna had protected him from the worst and they hadn’t taken him out of his head like the intrusions here.

He was trying to develop a new base. He had it almost right. Manhattan was gearing up for production for the Christmas rush—that meant he had to get it perfect by the end of this month.

But so far today he’d had Matty three times, Crater twice about finances for the treasury and now an alderman from the town with a list a mile long and a need to talk to him about land stabilization above Zunderfied.

He knew nothing about land stabilization.

He had to learn.

At the end of the basement room there was a narrow window almost at ceiling level. It was ground level outside.

He could see Kelly and Matty out on the far side of the forecourt, heading into the woods.

For one daft minute he felt an almost irresistible urge to join them.

Yeah. As if he needed domesticity added to his duties.

He had to focus.

‘Maybe we need to get the land surveyed,’ the man said. ‘There are some who say the need is urgent. What if we contact the university and see if we can get experts to tell us what they think?’

‘Who says the need is urgent?’ Rafael asked uneasily, still looking out of the window. They looked great, he thought—Kelly and Matty.

She was still wearing that appalling sweater.

‘Only a couple of the old men,’ the alderman said soothingly, but he still looked anxious. ‘There seems no immediate threat. I’ll contact the university.’

‘Let’s do that immediately,’ Rafael said, thinking about the raw scar above the town and feeling more uneasy. ‘Can you set that in train? If we offer generous funding we should get people here straight away.’

The man’s anxious look faded. He left, relieved, and Rafael turned again to his mechanical base.

His mind wasn’t on it.

Instead, he stared out of the window again. Kelly and Matty were out there somewhere.

And a little town with erosion above it and waterlogged soil.

There was nothing more he could do. Was there?

Damn.

And then they came. The knock on the door was more tentative than Matty’s usual bang, but that was the only unusual part. Before he could respond, Matty had the door open and was dragging his mother inside.

‘He’s here. You don’t have to wait. He always says come in. Uncle Rafael, Mama has come to look at your prototype.’

Matty was tugging his mother by the hand. Kelly looked completely disoriented, embarrassed, confused…

Adorable.

He could so easily slip into this, he thought. He could pick up where his cousin had left off.

Right. As if Kelly would ever want that. And where did that leave him? Right in the middle of the royal mess with no way of walking, even after twenty years.

Maybe he could have a good time for twenty years.

‘Hi,’ he said and smiled and she looked even more confused. Even more adorable.

‘Matty wanted to show me your toys.’

‘Would you like a guided tour?’

She gazed round, clearly astonished. ‘It’s a workshop.’

It was. The big underground cavern had been transformed. Back in Manhattan, he’d had a workshop set apart from the normal production premises, specially set up so he could have time alone to think, to work peaceably on his latest ideas. He’d had the entire contents transported here. Anna had supervised the shift. Nothing had gone wrong, and already he had a workplace he loved.

And he had the work he loved. His father had introduced him to woodwork, and to rudimentary mechanics. The two of them had worked together when Rafael was a kid, in the slivers of time his father had been able to spare from his royal duties.

Those slivers of time had seemed like gold. They’d instilled in Rafael a love of working with his hands, and now it was the place he found peace.

Did Kelly find such peace in her books?

‘You know how Robo-Craft works?’ he asked her.

‘I’ve seen it in the shops,’ Kelly said and that was enough encouragement for Matty to gasp in shock and drag her to the table.

‘You mean you don’t even know how it works? Look, Mama. It’s very, very wonderful. Uncle Rafael invented it all by himself.’

He set a tiny mechanism on the middle of the table, then grabbed a sizeable plank, balanced it on top of the mechanism and flipped the switch.

The plank swung round like a slow ceiling fan.

‘Now look,’ Matty ordered and fiddled with the controls.

The plank swayed like a drunken ceiling fan.

‘And now…’

The mechanism lifted, rolled. Amazingly the plank stayed balanced. The whole thing started moving steadily to the side of the table.

‘Will it go up?’ Matty demanded.

‘I suspect our plank is too heavy for launch,’ Rafael said. ‘Why not make something that looks like a rocket? Make it a bit lighter than the plank. In fact, make it a lot lighter than the plank.’

Matty was already gazing round the room, looking for materials.

‘Can I use that?’ he asked, pointing to some plywood.

‘Go right ahead. Here’s a hacksaw and here’s some craft glue. Kelly, are you going to watch?’

But Kelly was gazing at the little mechanism with longing. It looked awesome.

‘Can I make a bus?’ she asked and he grinned at the wistfulness in her voice. He loved it when he caught a kid’s attention, even if that kid was twenty-nine years old.

‘Any special reason why you’d like to make a bus?’

‘It’s just that rolling action. I had to spend hours on a school bus when I was a kid and the thing bucketed just like your plank. I reckon I could make a bus to sit on it and…’

‘Go right ahead,’ he said and beamed and she was sucked in, hook, line and sinker.

What followed was peace.

It was probably the first time Rafael had felt at peace since he’d heard of Kass’s death.

He’d always found solace in his work—it had always been an escape for him—but for the past few weeks he hadn’t been able to disappear. Even when he was alone, when the demands of his new role weren’t pounding on his door, his conscience was doing its own pounding. So was his worry for the future—for the fact that he had no choice in the role he was expected to play. He worked with his hands down here but even as he worked his thoughts wriggled and twisted and tried to find an escape.

But just here…just for now…there was no need to escape. He had no wish to escape. This was great.

Kelly and Matty were totally entranced. They had the material they needed. They sat on high stools at his biggest work bench, their heads bent over their projects, deep in concentration.

He’d hardly seen the similarity between mother and son, but he saw it now. The way their brows creased together, puckering into a tiny line just above their noses. The way they focused absolutely. When they picked up the hacksaws and made their first tentative notch, then paused and held the plywood out to make sure they were doing the right thing, their actions were identical.

They looked…

Like mother and son.

More. They looked endearing. Enchanting. He was giving them both pleasure and the thought was enough to settle a deep, aching pain in his gut that had been there…maybe ever since his father had died.

A measure of the success of Robo-Craft was that it pulled people in regardless. If you could put a plain, unadorned plank on this tiny mechanism and watch it transform into something that suggested an old school bus or a spaceship—anything—and if you could see that very easily you could make such a thing and watch it work…

‘Yeah, it’s brilliant,’ Kelly said, smiling, and he grinned at her across the table.

In the Royal's Bed: Wanted: Royal Wife and Mother

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