The Prince's Heir. Sally Carleen
the male who determines the sex, you know, so the odds were pretty good on that one. I certainly had no idea the Taggarts would ever in a million years find out about Lawrence. It’s not like they would be on a guest list for the palace ball and recognize him.”
The front door slammed. “Hi, honey! I’m home!”
“In the kitchen, Dan!” her mother called.
Mandy had to fight the urge to jump up, run to her father and throw herself in his big, capable arms, the way she had done when she was a little girl, when he could make everything all better with a kiss. “You’re going to wish you’d stayed at the hardware store!” she shouted instead.
Dan Crawford appeared in the doorway, a large, smiling man with auburn hair fading to a lighter color and streaked with white. He took one look at the three of them and his smile vanished, concern furrowing his brow instead. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Lynda and the baby?”
“No, they’re fine,” Rita assured him. “Sit down, dear. We need to have a family meeting.”
Dan took a seat at the table and listened quietly while Mandy told him the whole story.
“We need a plan of action,” she concluded. “I don’t think this is going to go away like the chicken pox did.”
Dan Crawford leaned back and exhaled a long sigh. “What did this Stephan Reynard say he plans to do next?”
“He didn’t say,” Rita replied. “He’s staying at a hotel in Dallas and we’re to phone him there after we’ve had time to discuss everything.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Mandy said adamantly. “Joshua’s my son now. Both his parents wanted him to have the kind of life I had, not the kind they had.”
“Stephan Reynard is Joshua’s uncle,” her father said, his voice quiet but resolute. “He may not have any legal rights, but don’t you think he’s entitled to some kind of relationship with his nephew? Someday Joshua’s going to want to know about his heritage.”
“Stephan Reynard doesn’t want a relationship with his nephew. He wants to steal him and turn him into a carbon copy of himself, and we can’t let him do that. Josh would be just as unhappy in that role as Lawrence was.”
She rose, unable to sit still any longer, and paced across the kitchen, then turned around and leaned back against the cabinet as if for support. “When I was little, I envied Alena. She had so many toys and clothes and her own suite of rooms. But she always wanted to come to our house to play. I didn’t understand that. Then I went to Dallas to go to school and we got really close again and she told me she’d been lonely and envied my family.”
She wrapped her arms about herself and smiled weakly. “That was the first time I’d been away from you all. I used to think it would be wonderful to have a place of my own, central heat and air, my own private bathroom. Well, it wasn’t. I never told you how much I missed all of you because you were so pleased about my getting that scholarship and going to school. But I did. Something terrible. If I hadn’t had Alena, I wouldn’t have stayed even that first semester. When Gramps died, it really hit me how valuable you all are to me. Then Alena died, too, and Lawrence put that tiny baby in my arms, and it was like everything shifted and I totally understood. I knew that making lots of money and having lots of things the way Alena had always had was not what I wanted. I’d had the world and given it up. I couldn’t get everything back. Gramps was gone. But I could reclaim the rest of my life, and I wanted Josh to have what you gave me, such a good life that he’d never comprehend loneliness. And he does. Where his ancestors came from doesn’t matter. Love is the only heritage that matters.”
“You’re almost right, baby,” her grandmother said. “Love is the most important, but do you really want to deprive Joshua of knowing about his biological heritage? You’re always saying how it makes you feel connected to live in the house built by your ancestors. Shouldn’t Josh at least know about his?”
Mandy sighed in resignation. Her grandmother was right. Even if she’d had a choice...and she suspected that fighting an entire country didn’t give her one... she wouldn’t be able to keep Stephan away from his nephew.
“I’ll call Stephan Reynard tomorrow,” she agreed dully.
“You must invite him to stay with us,” her mother said.
A rush of hot blood surged through Mandy at the thought of Stephan Reynard sleeping under the same roof with her. “Absolutely not!”
Rita Crawford ignored her daughter. “I’m sure he can’t be comfortable in that hotel. I’ll clean and air the guest room on the third floor.”
“I’ve got a real strong feeling that Stephan Reynard, Prince of Castile, is quite comfortable in that luxury hotel with room service and valet service and maid service. No way is he going to want to move from there into a third-story room in an old house that doesn’t even have elevators or central air or chocolates on the pillows at night”
“Mandy,” her grandmother said, “your mother’s right. When Mr. Reynard has a chance to see how happy Joshua is with us and how much we love him, he’ll realize he can’t take him away.”
“It’s the polite thing to do and the smart thing,” her father said firmly. “You’re outvoted, baby doll.”
There was a down side to living with an extended family, Mandy thought grimly. Like being outvoted.
“Fine. I’ll invite him because it’s the polite thing to do and because you all insist, but I don’t think he’ll come.”
Maybe he’d be so embarrassed when he refused that he’d stay away from her family.
It wasn’t much, was pretty lame, actually, but it was the only hope she had at the moment.
Heaven help her and her renegade hormones if he accepted.
Stephan had a restless night. Jet lag. Traveling to a time zone six hours behind his. That’s all it was. His troubled dreams about the Crawford family, Mandy Crawford in particular, were caused by the jet lag.
He rose early, awakening as usual just before dawn as if the energy of the sun was so strong it made sleep impossible and urged him to be up and busy doing things. He showered, dressed and ordered room service, then stared out his window at the Dallas skyline.
Dallas was a big, fast-paced, modern city, the complete opposite of everything in Castile. Lawrence had brought back glowing reports from America and ideas for bringing Castile into the twenty-first century. Though he’d been fascinated with both New York City and Dallas, he’d expressed a decided preference for Dallas. After learning about Alena and the child, Stephan had wondered if Lawrence’s perceptions had been tainted.
Stephan’s own education and travels had focused on the capitals of Europe, and, in spite of Lawrence’s reports, he’d halfway expected to find Dallas uncivilized and overrun with cattle and cowboys. But he had to admit he’d been favorably impressed. The vitality and energy of the city were almost palpable, yet the people, like the Crawfords, were polite and friendly.
He certainly hadn’t expected to like the Crawfords. The Taggarts had described their socio-economic status as “low class,” “dead broke,” “the whole family living in a run-down old house.” He hadn’t liked or trusted the Taggarts when they’d traveled to Castile for an interview with the king after their claim had proven accurate. He hadn’t been sure how much to believe of their analysis of the situation concerning the Crawfords. Nevertheless, he had fully expected to find Lawrence’s son living in squalor.
He’d been prepared to march in boldly, demand a DNA test from people who would, the Taggarts assured him, be only too happy to relinquish the infant prince into his custody in exchange for a sizable deposit in their bank account. He had certainly not been prepared for the immaculate old house or for the cultured, well-mannered Crawford family who obviously adored Lawrence’s son.
And