The Prince's Heir. Sally Carleen
a big, cold palace, ignored by their parents, clinging to each other. Lawrence had been the oldest and the first to recognize that dependence on the succession of nannies was futile. He’d shared that knowledge with his younger siblings, pointing out that they were royalty and couldn’t afford to become attached to people.
Certainly Stephan realized that a prince had to be rational and avoid sentimentality. Even so, he couldn’t simply take this child off to a foreign country and into the midst of strangers. It was imperative he get to know him first. Joshua wouldn’t even have a brother or sister to cling to.
But there was more to his decision, something elemental underlying the battle he and Mandy were waging, something that tugged at him and drew him to her, something that stirred his blood and tightened his groin. That something had him speeding to her house with his suitcases in the trunk of his rental car, anticipation and dread sharing equal space in his chest.
When he pulled up in front of the big old house, he wasn’t surprised to see the entire family sitting on the porch, drinking that strange iced tea. Mandy, her mother, grandmother, younger sister, a tall older man with reddish hair streaked with white, who must be Mandy’s father, a younger man with auburn hair who was holding hands with a smiling brunette—undoubtedly the brother and his wife—along with Joshua and the mongrel they called Prince. At least he didn’t have to worry about giving in to any of those lustful tuggings for Mandy, not with that many people around.
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