The Monarch's Son. Valerie Parv
his gaze to where a dark figure plunged toward them from the trees beyond the cove. Then she saw a man in pursuit of a much smaller figure pelting across the sand.
“Nori,” Lorne said, his voice softening with such affection that she regarded him curiously. He opened his arms, and the child threw himself into them, wrapping both arms around the man’s neck as if he would never let go. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be taking a nap,” Lorne asked.
“Don’t need a nap, I’m a big boy now.” The child’s voice was a piping imitation of Lorne’s vibrant French-accented voice.
For some reason Allie felt a stab of disappointment. There was no doubt that Lorne and Nori were father and son. The resemblance was far too strong. So he was married. She didn’t know why it bothered her, as their paths were unlikely to cross again, but the discovery felt as uncomfortable as a grain of sand in her shoe.
The child looked from the stranger to his father. “This is Alison Carter. She got into trouble with the serpent and isn’t feeling well,” Lorne explained.
The little boy nodded gravely. “I know to be very careful of the serpent and only swim with my nanny.”
Allie couldn’t help smiling. With huge dark eyes that shone like stars and skin the color of honey, Nori looked utterly captivating. The mischief dancing in his expression only made him look more appealing. “Maybe I should only swim with my nanny, too,” she agreed.
The little boy looked scornful. “You’re too big to have a nanny. When I’m big, I won’t have one, either.”
Allie laughed. “How old are you, Nori?”
“I’m a big boy now. I’m four.” He held up three chubby fingers, the little finger and thumb curling into his palm.
Without stopping to think, Allie straightened the little finger alongside Nori’s extended fingers. “This many fingers make four.”
The child frowned. “I know that. I was teasing.”
It ran in the family, she thought. Taking the child’s hand had brought her close enough to Lorne to feel the whisper of his breath against her cheek, bringing with it another trace of the masculine French aftershave lotion mingling with his own compelling male scent. The combination spoke of balmy walks under the stars and moonlit swims and endless nights in the arms of a lover. She blinked hard. The experience of nearly drowning must be affecting her more than she realized.
The moment was shattered when a solidly built man in a white shirt and dark trousers lumbered up to them. “I’m sorry about the interruption, Your Highness. Nori insisted on seeing you and took off before his nanny or I could stop him.”
Shock rippled through Allie and her legs started to buckle. Your Highness? No wonder Lorne had expected her to recognize him. A detail she had barely absorbed from the guide book came rushing back to her: de Marigny was the name of Carramer’s ruling family. She had gatecrashed the royal residence. If she hadn’t been so groggy from her ordeal she would probably have recognized his name.
You take the lead. In her head she replayed her own foolish words and his imperious reply. I usually do. At least she hadn’t called him Lorne. The penalty for that was probably beheading with a rusty sword or some such. It was a wonder he hadn’t called his guards instead of coming to her aid himself when she washed up at his feet. As it was, she couldn’t have made a bigger fool of herself if she’d tried.
“It seems I owe you an apology, Your Highness. I had no idea,” she said, holding her anger in check with difficulty. He might have told her the truth and saved her a lot of embarrassment, but she could hardly say anything without making matters worse.
He waved away her concern. “It was a novel experience not to be recognized.”
Her blood began to boil, threatening to overrule common sense. “I’m glad I provided a diversion, Your Highness. Court jesters must be in short supply in Carramer.”
Her anger evidently caught him by surprise. “Contrary to what you think, I wasn’t amusing myself at your expense. I had intended to introduce myself properly as soon as you were fully recovered.”
“Then you’d better tell me now,” she urged. “I don’t want to make a bigger fool of myself than I’ve already managed to do.”
Although she spoke softly, the security man looked startled. Evidently people didn’t speak to members of the royal family like that very often. Before Lorne could speak, he said in awed tones, “I have the honor to present His Highness, Prince Lorne de Marigny, ruler of the sovereign islands of Carramer.” The man sounded astonished that such a self-evident fact needed stating.
She felt faint again but this time it had less to do with the pounding she had taken in the surf than with the impact of the man standing beside her, his arms around an adorable four-year-old who must be the heir to the throne of Carramer. Her voice seemed to come from a long way off as she said, “You’re the ruler of the whole country?”
Lorne nodded, his black eyes shining. “So it would seem.”
The combined effect of her ordeal and the discovery that she had been rescued by the monarch himself combined to overwhelm her precarious hold on consciousness. The security man’s startled cry and Lorne’s barked command to take the child from him were the last things she heard before she saw the sand rushing up toward her.
Chapter Two
As Lorne scooped up Alison’s inert body, he automatically reassured his son. “It’s all right, Nori. Miss Carter is only tired because of her fight with the serpent. Return to the house with Robert and I’ll bring Miss Carter myself.” To his aide he added quietly, “Have the doctor meet us there.”
The bodyguard was too well trained to argue the prince’s edict, but his eyes were full of questions as he took Nori and hurried toward the villa. Lorne knew he had always been something of a hands-on ruler, but it was unusual for him to take such a personal interest in a stranger even if she was inordinately beautiful. Of course, most strangers didn’t wash up on the beach at his feet, he admitted to himself.
Alison didn’t stir when he held her in his arms for the second time in an hour. Much more of this and it could get to be a habit. He frowned as he took in the paleness of her features. They were already finely drawn, and her pallor added to his impression that he held a life-size porcelain doll.
Smudges of violet rimmed her huge sea-green eyes. He felt annoyed with himself for letting her talk instead of insisting she see his doctor right away. Who knew what damage her brush with the serpent had done?
He had allowed her to talk because he had enjoyed it, he acknowledged inwardly, crossing the white sand in long strides until he reached a row of ironwood trees fringing the beach. Meeting a woman on equal terms was a rare experience in his world, where almost everyone knew who he was at first sight and invariably reacted with deference. It had come as a shock to realize that Alison had no idea of his position. Then he had started to enjoy being treated as a man rather than a monarch.
Fool, he berated himself. Hadn’t he learned anything from his experience with Nori’s mother? Chandra had been Australian, too, and as refreshing in her way as Alison was in hers when they met during an official visit to her country. He had fallen in love with the former Miss Australia and against the advice of his ministers, had brought Chandra back to Carramer as his bride.
The fantasy had lasted only long enough for her to realize that, unlike her reign as Miss Australia, her duties as a member of Carramer’s royal family wouldn’t end after a year. During one of their more spectacular arguments, she had assured Lorne that attaining the title of princess had been her ambition all along. Having achieved it, she could see no reason to put up with the duties attending the title.
Motherhood had proved even more of a burden and she had readily handed their son over to a nanny until Lorne stepped in, taking an active role as the baby’s father. Chandra simply hadn’t cared