Page 35 of The Prodigal Prince

They took several more turns before Mac stopped, a triumphant look on his face. “Your quarters are right up the stairs. Told you I knew where I was going.”

“You got lucky.” She smacked his arm as she walked past and started up the stairs.

His laughter followed her, and she could hear his footsteps behind her.

A minute later, they stood in front of the door to the apartment where she, Gray, and Tinsley were staying.

Mac stood in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I quite enjoyed myself.”

“I did, too.” Fiona looked up at him, his gorgeous blue eyes staring straight into hers.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned toward her.

But instead of feeling his lips on hers, he brushed a kiss against her cheek.

“Sleep well, Fi,” he whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before she could say anything, he’d walked away.

Opening her eyes, she watched as Mac walked toward his own quarters. She’d had several dates with Mac before, but this time he hadn’t kissed her.

And somehow, that made this the best date they’d ever had.

* * *

If he didn’t thinkstaff members would look oddly at him - and possibly discussed it amongst themselves for the foreseeable future - Mac might have whistled his way to his sister’s office.

She’d sent a text asking him to come at his earliest convenience. He’d taken his time getting ready for the day, debating far longer than he should have about what kind of dress code he should have. Finally, he settled on a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved button-up shirt, loose at the collar.

With his tablet in one hand, he tapped it against the outside of his leg as he walked.

“Good morning, Your Royal Highness.” His sister’s assistant didn’t stand, but did nod her head his direction. “You can go in. The queen is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” He opened the door to find his sister pacing on the far side of the room, speaking into her phone.

But not English. Was that Italian? Or Greek?

Mac’s language skills were pretty rusty, but he also couldn’t hear her well enough to make out the words.

She jabbed at the screen with her finger and let out a frustrated growl. “Have you seen anything this morning?”

English. He was good with English.

Mac shook his head. “No. I got up, saw your text, got ready, and here I am. What’s going on?”

“The man who spent his first marriage flaunting his vows put himself in the news again. This time because his newwife…” She spite the word out. “…is pregnant. He thinks that makes this new child a member of the Sargassian royal family. Sorry, Pops, that’s not how it works.”

He winced at the sarcastic tone in his sister’s voice. Strong emotions began coursing through him as well.

“Something about this child being our half-sibling, so surely we’ll want to welcome our dear, beloved father back along with his new progeny, and make them part of our family.” Esme flopped into a chair in a very un-queen-like motion.

“That’s an interesting proposition, given how seldom he considered himself part of our family.” Mac should probably choose his words more carefully, but for the moment, he didn’t care. “I know I missed Mum’s service, and I shouldn’t have, but I really did have a very good reason. He didn’t. None at all, except to get out of Sargasso as fast as he could with his new girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t hisnewgirlfriend. She’d been around for a while.” Esme pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have no idea what makes him think we’ll accept this child as our sibling, with all the rights and privileges of a full member of the family. He does remember that Mum was the queen, right? He’s not royalty at all.”

Mac took a seat nearby. “Well, it’s not the baby’s fault who his or her parents are. And genetically speaking, there is a biological relationship.”

“That doesn’t mean the child is part of our family the way he’s trying to imply.” She blew out a breath. “I haven’t talked to any of the PR people yet, but I suspect he’s trying to force my hand by making the announcement of my long-awaited younger sibling so public.”

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