Although she knew it was insanity to even consider a secret rendezvous, Pippa could not make herself say no.

She opened her mouth to try to form the word and her lips refused. Her whole body and being wanted to be with Nic, and she was bloody tired of denying herself. “Yes,” she finally said and closed her eyes. “But this could be messy.”

Nic laughed. “I’ve been dealing with messes since I was six years old.”

She wondered what it was about Nic that made her feel stronger. When she was with him, she felt as if she could do almost anything.

Pulling her slowly toward him, he gave her a dozen chances to turn away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“Do you want me just because you can’t have me?” she whispered, the fear squeezing out of her throat.

“No,” he said. “Besides, we both know I can and will have you. The question is when,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

Dear Reader,

This is one of my most ambitious books ever! These characters got inside my head and heart and demanded that I deal with subject matter I’ve never attempted before. In my mind, there are two she-ros in this book, but don’t worry! Only one of them is the “romantic lead.” And what a woman she is. A shy bookworm princess with bad hair who is known for not making waves is thrust into a situation that challenges her to be stronger than she ever dreamed she could be.

The second she-ro is the hero’s mother. I pictured her as an older but still gamin Audrey Hepburn determined to savor every moment of life. The dreamy forbidden hero comes from a long line of pirates. I see Nic Lafitte looking like a slightly rougher-edged version of Antonio Sabato, Jr. I love the way shy Princess Pippa turns worldly Nic’s head and heart around in ways he would have considered impossible.

Throw in a long-standing family feud and a crowd of Royals, and our hero and she-ro are in for the journey of their lives. I hope this story will be a “heart-warmer” for you…

Wishing you love and joy,

Leanne

About the Author

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.

The Princess

and the Outlaw

Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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This is dedicated to the family members and friends

who hang in there for the long haul when a loved one

is terminally ill. May the special people in your life

who have passed on continue to inspire you, make you

laugh, make you wise and make you love forever…

Prologue

“What is he doing here?”

Phillipa was wondering the same thing. At her sister Bridget’s gasp, her other sister, Tina, leaned toward Bridget. “Zach says he’s a huge contributor here. Everyone loves him,” Tina said distastefully.

“They clearly don’t know him,” Bridget said and nudged Phillipa. “Why can’t we escape him?” she whispered. “Maybe it’s because he’s the devil and that means he can be everywhere at once.”

At that moment, Phillipa almost agreed with Bridget. Nic certainly seemed to have some kind of dark power over her.

Phillipa had tried to slow things down with Nic Lafitte, but persuading the man to move at anything other than warp speed had proven impossible. He was a force of nature with a will that rivaled every kind of powerful destructive weather. Typhoons and tornadoes had nothing on him. She’d successfully avoided him for the past three weeks and she had been certain that fleeing her home country of Chantaine to visit her sisters in Texas would buy her even more time.

Who would have ever thought she would be caught staring at him at a charity social ball in Texas as he accepted an award for philanthropy? Phillipa knew that Nic had ties to Texas, but with his extensive business dealings, he had ties to many places.

The ballroom suddenly felt as if it was shrinking. Panic squeezed her chest. She had to get out. She had to catch her breath. Feeling her sister’s curious gaze, she swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. “I’m not feeling well,” she said. “Please excuse me.”

When Bridget offered to come with her, Phillipa had to remain firm. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Sticking to the perimeter of the room as she fled, she kept her head down, hoping she wasn’t drawing attention to herself. If she could just get out of this room, she would be fine, she told herself. Out of the room and away from Nic. Away from how he affected her.

She stepped out of the ballroom and held the door so it would catch softly as it closed, then took a few more steps away and leaned against the wall, which felt cool against her skin. Her sisters hadn’t been exaggerating when they’d told her Texas summers were hell.

Phillipa took several deep breaths, willing her heart and mind to calm. How had she gotten herself into this? Why? Among her siblings, she’d done her best to maintain a low profile. As number five out of six strong personalities, it hadn’t been that difficult. Her oldest brother, Stefan, had been born and bred to rule—everyone except his siblings anyway. Phillipa had found refuge in academia. It was much easier pleasing a few professors than being a princess and constantly making public appearances and dealing with the media. By nature, she’d always been an introvert. She’d never enjoyed crowded gatherings, hated posing for photographs and had little patience for all the effort it seemed to take to make her presentable.

When her first two sisters began to focus on their new husbands instead of royal duties, Phillipa had plunged herself into graduate studies to avoid being in the public eye. Her sister Bridget had seen through her plan and it had clearly irritated her, although Bridget had bucked up and done a fantastic job. The trouble now was that Bridget was determined to get a break and she had earned it. Phillipa cringed at the prospect of all the public appearances she would be forced to make.

“I’ll be damned,” a familiar male voice said, making her eyes pop open. “If it isn’t the missing Her Highness Phillipa of Chantaine.”

Phillipa stared into the dark gaze of Nic Lafitte and her lungs seemed to completely shut down. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

His mouth twisted in a half smile. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he asked and slipped his hand around her arm. “Lucky for both of us that I am. We have unfinished business. You’re coming with me. I can have my car delivered in seconds.”

Her heart pounded. “I can’t. My sisters expect me back for the rest of the event. They’ll call the authorities if I go missing,” she said.

“It wouldn’t be the first time your family has tried to get me in trouble with the law.” He glanced around and tugged her down the hallway. “If you won’t leave with me, then I’ll take my moment somewhere else.”

“Where are you taking me?” she asked. “This is crazy. I need to go back to my table. I need—” She broke off as he pushed open the door to a room marked Coat Closet and dragged her inside.

He pulled her to the back of the small room and gently, but firmly gripped her shoulders. “Tell me what you really need, Pippa. What do you really want?” he asked her in that dark, sexy voice that made her feel as if she were turning upside down.

A half-dozen images from the stolen moments they’d shared shot through her brain. The time they’d gone swimming at night. The afternoon she’d spent on his yacht. The walk they’d taken on the opposite side of the island when she’d learned so much about him and he’d made it so easy for her to talk about herself. Despite the bad blood between her family and his, Phillipa had never felt so drawn to another man in her life.

He lowered his head, holding her gaze until his mouth took hers. His kiss set off a riot of reaction and emotion inside her. He made her feel alive and out of control. She pulled back and whispered. “This is insane. It will never work. That’s what I tried to tell you before.”

“Why not?” he challenged her. Nic was always challenging her. Sometimes gently, sometimes with more strength. “If I want you and you want me, what is most important?”

Pippa bit her lip and struggled to remain rational. Members of her family had caused a lot of trouble by giving in to their emotions. She didn’t want the same kind of trouble. “Want is a temporary emotion. There are more important things than temporary emotions.”

“If that’s true, why did you kiss me back? Why are you here with me right now?”

Pippa heard a gasp from the doorway and terror rushed through her. “Someone is here,” she said. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said, stumbling toward the door. Nic helped to steady her as they stepped outside the closet.

Her sisters Bridget and Tina greeted them with furious disapproval stamped on their faces. Pippa inwardly cringed.

“Get away from my sister,” Bridget said.

“That’s for her to say, not you,” Nic said.

“You’re just using her,” Tina said. “You only want her because she can redeem your terrible family name.”

“Not everyone finds my family name reprehensible. Some even respect it,” he said.

“That’s respect you’ve bought with money,” Tina said. “Leave Phillipa alone. You can never be good enough for her. If you have any compassion, you’ll at least protect her reputation by leaving now.”

Nic tightened his jaw. “I’ll leave, but Phillipa will make the ultimate decision about the future of our relationship.” He glanced behind him and met Phillipa’s shocked, pale face. “Ciao, darling. Call me when you get some courage. Some things are meant to be,” he said and strode away.

Chapter One

Seven Months Later

She’d started running for exercise. That was what Pippa told her security detail anyway. She knew the truth. She was running from memories. Memories and the possibility that there was only one man for her and he was the one man she couldn’t have.

“Stop it,” she told herself, staring at the empty beach in front of her. Azure waves dappled onto white sands. By noon, there would be quite a few more bodies enjoying the beach. At six in the morning, however, she was the only one around. She debated turning on some music via her smartphone. She usually welcomed the noise, hoping it would drown out some of her thoughts. Today, she was searching for a little peace. Maybe the sound of the waves would help, she thought, and started out.

One foot in front of the other, she ran for two minutes, then walked for three. It was called interval training and the different paces suited her. Pippa had never been athletic. From the time she’d learned to read, she’d always been happiest with her nose stuck in a book. Her nanny had been relieved because her brothers and most of her sisters had been more demanding in one way or another.

Running again, she inhaled the scent of the salt air. The humidity was low today and she could feel the moisture on her skin begin to evaporate. Slowing after three minutes of running, she took a swig of her water and trudged onward.

Along the shore, in the distance, she spotted a long figure walking. She would wave and be friendly. Pippa was a royal and Chantaine royals were not allowed to be snooty. Other runners might be able to put their blinders and zip past everyone in their path, but not a Devereaux.

As she drew closer, she saw that the figure was that of a woman. Short white hair crowned her head, and a sundress that resembled a nightgown covered her petite frame.

Pippa nodded. “Good morning,” she said.

The woman looked away and stumbled.

Curious, Pippa vacillated as to whether to approach her. Perhaps she was longing for solitude just as Pippa was. The woman stumbled again and Pippa felt a twist of concern. She walked toward the woman. “Pardon me, may I help you?”

The woman shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s so beautiful here,” she said in a lilting voice that contrasted with the lines on her face and the frailness of her frame.

Something about her seemed familiar, but Pippa couldn’t quite identify it. The woman stumbled again, and Pippa’s concern grew. Was she ill?

“Yes, the beach is lovely. Are you sure I can’t help you? I could walk you back to where you started,” she said. “Or perhaps you would like some water.”

The woman’s face crumpled. “No, no. Please don’t make me go back. Please don’t—” She broke off and collapsed right in front of Pippa.

Alarm shot through her. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed and bent over the woman. This was one time when she would have loved to have had her security detail close by. Pippa put her arms around the woman and lifted her, surprised by her light weight. Glancing around, she pulled her toward a small stand of palm trees.

Frantic, she held the woman and gently shook her. “Please. Miss. Please.” She spilled water from her bottle onto one of her hands and gently patted the woman’s face. “Please wake up. Please.”

Terrified that the woman was dying, she reached for her cell phone. The woman clearly needed emergency medical attention. Just as she put her finger over the speed dial for her security, the woman blinked her eyes. Huge and full of emotion, her eyes captivated Pippa.

She held her breath. “Are you all right? Please take a few sips of my water. It’s clearly too hot out here for you. I’ll call for help and—”

“No,” the woman said with a strength that surprised Pippa. “Please don’t do that.” Then the woman closed her amazing, mesermizing eyes and began to sob.

The sound wrenched at Pippa. “You must let me help you.”

“There’s only one thing I want,” she said and met Pippa’s gaze again. “I just want to die in Chantaine.”

Pippa gasped. Then a lightning flash of realization rocked through her. She looked at the woman and saw the resemblance of Nic in her eyes. His bone structure was a stronger, more masculine version, but his eyes were all Amelie. “Amelie,” she whispered. “You’re Amelie Lafitte.”

The woman reluctantly nodded. “How do you know?”

“I know your son Nic.” Pippa also knew that Amelie was in the final stages of cancer. Her time was drawing painfully close.

Amelie looked away. “I just wanted a little walk on the beach. I bet he’s quite peeved that I left the yacht.”

Peeved wasn’t the word that came to Pippa’s mind. “I’ll call him for you,” she said.

“Then all my fun will be over,” she said with a cute pout. “He’s such a worrywart.”

Stunned at how quickly Amelie’s spirit had returned, she hesitated a half beat, then dialed his cell. Despite the fact that she’d deleted it from her phone records months ago, every digit was engraved on her brain.

Five minutes later, a black Mercedes came to screeching halt on the curb of the road above the beach. Pippa immediately identified the dark figure exiting the driver’s side of the vehicle. Nic. As he strode swiftly toward her and Amelie, she could see the tension in his frame. Seeing him after all these months set off a visceral response inside her. Her stomach clenched. Her heart beat unevenly.

“Hi, darling,” Amelie said, remaining seated on the sand under the tree as she sipped Pippa’s water. Pippa was still surprised at how quickly the woman had recovered after fainting. “Sorry to be a bother, but I woke up early and I just couldn’t resist the chance to go for a walk on the beach.”

“I would have been happy to walk with you,” Nic said and turned to Pippa. What she wouldn’t give to get a peek behind his dark sunglasses. “Thank you for calling me. I’ll take her back to the yacht now and you can continue your run. I didn’t know you were a runner.”

She felt her face heat with self-consciousness. “I’m more of a combination walker and runner.”

He nodded and glanced back at his mother. “Dad’s beside himself with worry. It was all I could do to keep him from tearing after you.”

“Paul can’t hobble with crutches let alone tear after me with that broken foot of his. The doctor said it will be ten more weeks before he can put any weight on it at all,” she said, then turned her head thoughtfully to the side. “You know what I’m in the mood for? Crepes. There used to be a wonderful café on the edge of town. They made the most delicious crepes.”

“Bebe’s on Oleander,” Pippa said. “It’s still there, and Bebe’s granddaughter helps makes the crepes.”

“Oh,” Amelie said, clasping her hands together. “It’s still there. We must go. And we can bring one back for Paul.” She turned to Pippa. “You must come, too.”

Pippa blinked at the invitation and slid a quick helpless glance at Nic.

“Mother, do you know who Pippa is?” he asked as he extended his hand to help her rise to her feet.

Amelie studied her for a long moment and frowned. “She looks a bit familiar. I can’t quite.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear. You’re a Devereaux. I can see it in your eyes and your chin. Oh, dear. This could get a bit messy.”

“Just a little,” Nic said in a wry tone. “But let’s give her the choice. Would you like to join us for crepes, Your Highness?”

Pippa heard the hint of goading challenge in Nic’s voice. She’d heard it before, but it seemed to hold more of an edge than ever. The truth was she didn’t want her photo taken with Nic and his mother. To say it could cause problems was a huge understatement.

“That’s okay,” he said before she could respond. “Thanks again for looking out for my mother. Ci—”

“I’m coming,” Pippa said impulsively. “Unless you’re rescinding the invitation,” she tossed back at him in her own challenging voice.

He paused a half beat and tilted his head as if she’d taken him off guard. The possibility thrilled her. “Not at all. Would you like to ride with us in my vehicle?”

“Thank you, but no. I’ll drive myself and meet you in about fifteen minutes,” Pippa said and turned her gaze to Amelie. “I’ll see you soon. Please drink some more fluids.”

“Thank you, darling. Isn’t she delightful?” she said to Nic. “She fusses just like you do.”

“Yes,” he said in a dry tone. “Delightful.”

Fifteen minutes later as Pippa put a ball cap on her head and adjusted her large pair of sunglasses, she wondered if she’d lost her mind agreeing to join Nic and his mother, the notorious Amelie, for crepes. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she could easily imagine the horror on the face of the royal advisers. Running on the beach at 6:00 a.m. in her current state was one thing, but walking into a public place of business was quite another. She thought of Nic’s goading attitude and made a face at the mirror. Well, she couldn’t back down now. Stepping from her car, she could only hope she wouldn’t be recognized.

Because she’d spent far less time in the public eye than her siblings, that was on her side. Her hair, however, was very distinctive and not in a good way. Wavy and brown with a tendency to frizz, she hoped she’d concealed it adequately by pulling it back in a ponytail and covering it with a cap.

She walked into the old but elegant eating establishment that featured every kind of crepe one could imagine. As soon as she stepped inside, she spotted Amelie, who also saw her and lifted her hand in a wave. Nic, sitting opposite Amelia, turned his head around to look at her and also waved. His gaze said he was surprised she’d shown up, which irritated Pippa.

She walked to the booth where Amelia and Nic sat and sank onto the red vinyl seat.

“Lovely that you joined us,” Amelie said and smiled as she lifted a menu. “How shall I choose? I want one of everything.”

Enchanted, Pippa picked up the menu. The array of choices was vast and mind-boggling. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Something sweet,” Amelie said. “Sweet, fruity. Oh, no, chocolate, too.” She shrugged helplessly.

The waitress approached. “Bonjour. How can I help you? Coffee?”

“Yes,” Amelie said. “Café au lait.”

“Tea,” Pippa said.

“Coffee, black,” Nic said. “Ladies, any idea what you want to order?”

“Apricot crepes. Strawberries and cream. Chocolate hazelnut. Banana cream.” Amelie paused.

Wondering how the woman could possibly consume that many crepes, she exchanged a quick glance with Nic, who shook his head and rubbed his jaw. She glanced back at Amelie. “Do you want anything with protein?”

“Not particularly,” Nic’s mother said.

“And you?” Pippa asked Nic.

He shrugged. “I’m here for the ride.”

“Can you please also bring us the crepe suzette and some carryout boxes?” Pippa asked the server.

“No problem, ma’am,” she said and stared at Pippa for a long moment. “Pardon me, you look familiar.”

Pippa fought a sliver of panic and held her breath. Please don’t recognize me.

“Are you a newscaster?”

Relief rushed through her, making her almost giddy. She shook her head and smiled. “Nope, I’m just a university student. Thanks for the compliment, though.”

The server’s face was sheepish. “No trouble. I’ll have your order up as soon as possible.”

“Thank you so very much,” Pippa said and after the server left, she felt the gazes of both Nic and Amelie.

Amelie sighed, lifting her shoulders and smiling with a charm that lit up the room and Pippa suddenly realized who the woman resembled. Gamin with superexpressive eyes, Amelie could have been a white-haired twin of Audrey Hepburn. “It’s so wonderful to be here again. Magic. The smell is divine. I should have come back sooner, so I’ll just make up for it today.”

“You don’t want to make yourself sick,” Nic said.

“Of course not. I’ll just take a bite of each, and we can take the rest back to Paul.” Amelie’s smile fell and she made a tsking sound. “Poor Paul. He’s in such pain with his foot.”

She said it as if she suffered no pain herself, but Pippa knew she did. She took a quick glance at Nic and caught the tightening of his jaw. She was struck by Amelie’s determination to grab at every experience in life and Nic’s struggle to hide a myriad of the emotions he was experiencing.

“I’ve heard the recovery from a broken foot can be a bear,” Pippa said.

“Oh, and trust me, Paul is a being a complete bear,” Amelie said. “He doesn’t like being restrained. Never has.” Amelie glanced at Nic. “It runs in the family.” She turned back to Pippa with an expressive, interested gaze. “But enough about us. Tell me about you, your interests, your life. Over the years, I’ve read a few stories in the news about the Devereauxs, and I must confess I wondered about Edward’s children. I’m sure he must have been proud of all of you.”

Pippa paused. The truth was her father hadn’t been very involved with any of his children. He’d given the most attention to her brother Stefan because he would be the heir, but her father was mostly pleased that he had enough children to do the work, so he could spend more time playing on his yacht. Often with women other than his wife.

“I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm. I’m working on my doctorate in genealogy with a specialization on the medical impact on the citizens of Chantaine. My brother Stefan is determined to improve the health care of our people, so he has approved my path of studies.”

“That’s fascinating,” Amelie said. “What have you learned so far?”

“Like many countries, our people are more susceptible to some diseases and conditions than others. These can be traced back hundreds of years to the introduction of different immigrants, new foods and changes in our environment. The neurological disease that struck down my father can be traced back to his great-great-grandmother’s family. There are also certain cancers that became more common such as when Chantaine experienced a large immigration from Iceland.”

Amelie gave a slow nod. “I wonder if—” She glanced up and broke off with a smile. “The crepes are here.”

Just as she’d said, Amelie only took a bite of each crepe. She savored each bite, closing her eyes and making a mmm sound. “I’m tempted to eat more, but I know it would be a mistake.” She leaned toward Pippa and extended her hand. “Dear, I must tell you that even though I couldn’t marry your father all those years ago, I wished him only the very best after we parted. I hope he was happy.”

Pippa tried to think of how to respond to Amelie’s words. The story about Edward and Amelie’s courtship was the stuff of tabloids. Before he’d taken the throne, Prince Edward had fallen for Amelie and Amelie had been entranced by him for a short while. When she’d met Paul Lafitte, from the States, however, she’d fallen for the tall, dark Texan hook, line and sinker. The Lafittes descended from pirates and even Pippa had to agree the Lafitte men held a dark, irresistible charm.

When Amelie tried to break off her engagement, Prince Edward had refused. Paul had intervened on her behalf and there’d been a terrible brawl. Her father the prince had been humiliated and Pippa wasn’t certain he’d ever truly given his heart away again.

“I think he enjoyed his life,” Pippa finally said. “He loved his yacht and the sea and we always felt glad that he was able to indulge his passion.”

Amelie patted Pippa’s hand. “You’re a lovely girl. As they say in Texas, you do him proud. Now, if you’ll both excuse me while I powder my nose,” she said and stood.

Nic also stood. “Need an escort?” he asked.

“Not this time, darling. Maybe you can talk Pippa into nibbling on some of those crepes,” she said and walked away.

“Is she okay?” Pippa asked when he sat down.

He shrugged. “For the moment. The next moment could bring something totally different. She knows her time is short and she’s decided to make the most of it. The only problem is she’s turned into an eight-year-old. Impulsive, runs off without thinking. With my father down due to his broken foot, I’ve become her keeper.”

Pippa swallowed over the knot of emotion in her throat and began to put the crepes in the carryout boxes. “I’m sure it’s difficult. On the one hand, you want to give her everything she wants. On the other, you want to keep her safe. It’s an impossible situation. She told me,” she said, biting her lip, “that she wants to die in Chantaine.”

His gaze narrowed. “That’s going to be a tough wish to fulfill given the fact that my father isn’t allowed to set foot on Chantaine.”

Cold realization rushed through her. “I forgot all about that. I can’t believe that would be enforced after all these years.”

He gave a rough chuckle. “After all these years, your family still hates me. I can’t take the chance that your family would lock him up in prison.”

“It wouldn’t be my family. It’s a silly law,” she said.

“Same result. It sucks, but Amelie can’t have every wish on her bucket list. I’ll do my damn best to make sure she gets as many as I can,” he said and stood as his mother arrived at the table.

Amelie met his gaze and sighed. “We should leave, shouldn’t we?”

He nodded and placed the boxes in a bag.

“Let me look around just one more moment,” she said, surveying the room as if she wanted to savor each detail, the same way she’d savored each bite of the crepes. “I’ve already spoken to Bebe. She’s lovely as is her granddaughter. Ciao,” she whispered and picked up the bag, then led the way to the door.

A terrible helplessness tore at Pippa as she followed Amelie out the door. She felt Nic’s presence behind her and tried to tamp down the painful knot in her chest. Seeing him again had been like ripping off a bandage before the wound was healed. She’d thought the longing she’d felt for him before was awful, but now it was even worse. Knowing that he was facing some of his darkest days and that she shouldn’t, couldn’t, help him, was untenable. Meeting his magical mother face-to-face and seeing her courage and joy made her feel like a wimp. Her biggest challenge to date was writing her dissertation.

Amelie stopped beside Nic’s Mercedes and turned to Pippa. “I hope we meet again, Your Highness. You’re the nicest princess I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I frightened you with my annoying fainting spell. But then you gave me water and helped me remember Bebe’s. I certainly came out the winner in this situation.”

“I beg to differ,” Pippa said. “It was my great pleasure to meet you.”

“Ciao, darling princess,” she said and Nic opened the door for her.

Pippa should have turned away, but she couldn’t resist one more look at his face. It was the worst kind of craving imaginable.

He turned and met her gaze for a heart-stopping moment that took her breath away. “Ciao, Princess.”

Still distracted by her encounter with Nic and his mother after she’d returned to the palace, Pippa started down the hallway to her living quarters. She would need to set the Lafittes’ situation aside if she was going to make any progress on her research today, and heaven knows, progress had been very slow coming since she’d made the insane mistake of getting involved with Nic. The problem was that even after she’d broken off with him, he still haunted her so much that she struggled to get her work done.

Just as she turned the corner toward her quarters, she heard a shrill scream from the other wing. Tyler, she thought, easily identifying one her sister’s toddler stepsons. He was going through a screaming stage.

“Tyler, darling, you’re not dressed,” her sister Bridget called, her voice echoing down the marble hallways. “Don’t—”

Pippa heard Tyler cackle with glee. She also heard the sound of her sister’s heels as she ran after him. Chuckling to herself, she wondered when Bridget would learn that toddlers and high heels didn’t go together. She rushed down the hall and turned another corner, spotting Tyler running toward her in all his naked glory. Bridget followed with Travis in her arms.

“Oh, Pippa, you saved my life. Can you grab him? The little beast thinks it’s funny to run all over the palace bloody naked.”

Tyler shrieked when he saw Pippa and skidded to a stop. Glancing over his shoulder at Bridget bearing down on him, he knew he was caught. Pippa scooped him up in her arms before he had a chance to get away.

“What are you doing? Did you just get a bath?” Pippa asked and buried her nose in his shoulder, making him laugh. “You smell like a deliciously clean little boy.”

“Thank you so much,” Bridget said breathlessly. “At least I got a diaper on Travis.”

As soon as she stepped within touching distance, Tyler flung himself at her. “Mumma,” he said and pressed an open mouth kiss against Bridget’s cheek.

Bridget squeezed him against her and shifted Travis on her hip. “Now, you get all lovey-dovey,” she said and gave him a kiss in return.

“Where are the nannies?” Pippa asked and held out her hands to Travis. He fell into her arms, then stuck his thumb in his mouth.

“I gave Claire the morning off and Maria had to take care of an emergency with her mother,” she said. “I had planned to check on the ranch Ryder and I are having built.” Bridget rolled her eyes and laughed. “I never dreamed Stefan would permit a ranch to be built on Chantaine.”

“I never would have dreamed you would live on a ranch with twin stepchildren.”

“They’re not steppies to me,” Bridget said. “Ryder and I are in the process of making it all legal. The little perfect, gorgeous beasties will be mine just as much as they are his.”

“Would you like me to watch the boys while you go check on the new house?” Pippa offered. Because Chantaine was an island, new construction was a long process and she knew both Bridget and Ryder were eager for their own place.

“I feel like I take advantage of you far too often. I know I’m not helping you get caught up on your studies….”

Pippa felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Bridget and the boys weren’t the real reason she’d had a difficult time focusing on her studies. “It’s not as if you’ll be gone all day,” she said.

“True,” Bridget said. “Only an hour or two. You’re the perfect sister,” Bridget said, leaning forward to give Pippa a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go back to my quarters so I can at least get my little nudist dressed before I leave.”

Pippa smiled as she followed Bridget down the hall and into her family’s suite of rooms. “I think it’s your outlook that has changed. Since you got married to Ryder, everything’s close to perfection.”

“That just goes to show the power of having a good man in your life,” Bridget said. “As soon as I have more than half a moment, I must get to work on finding one for you.”

Alarm shot through Pippa. “Oh, so not necessary. I still have to finish my work for my PhD.”

“That won’t be forever,” Bridget said as she dressed wiggly Tyler.

“I can only hope,” Pippa muttered.

“It won’t be,” Bridget said emphatically. “Besides, you can’t wait forever to move on, romantically speaking. I can help with that.”

“You seem to forget that our family is dreadful when it comes to matchmaking,” Pippa said. “How much did you enjoy Stefan’s attempts at matchmaking?”

Bridget waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s different. I won’t be trying to match you up with someone who can contribute to Chantaine. I’ll find someone hot and entertaining.”

“Lovely intentions,” Pippa said. “Don’t strain yourself. The boys and I will have some fun in the playroom.”

“Perfect. If I’m late they can have lunch in an hour.”

“Will do,” Pippa said. “Are you truly going to have cattle at this ranch?”

“If Ryder has his way,” Bridget said with a sigh. “If we have to take the man out of Texas, we’ll just bring Texas to him. Ciao. I’ll be back soon,” she said and kissed both of the boys.

As soon as Bridget left, the twin toddlers looked at her with pouty faces. Travis’s lower lip protruded and he began to whimper. Tyler joined in.

“Absolutely none of that. She’ll be back before you know it.” Bridget set both of them on their feet and took them by the hand. “To the playroom,” she said and marched them into the small backroom. If there was one thing she’d learned about caring for toddlers, it was that it helped to be willing to make a bloody fool of herself. She immediately turned on the animal sounds CD and followed the instructions to make honking sounds. The boys dried up and joined her.

Just over an hour later, Bridget returned and Pippa could no longer escape her studies. She retreated to her room with a half sandwich for lunch. She thought of the crepes and her stomach clenched. Her mind kept wandering to the time she’d spent with Nic and his mother.

She told herself not to think about it. It wasn’t her responsibility. These genealogy charts required her complete and immediate attention. She’d used every possible device to procrastinate doing her work entirely too long. Inputting her second cousin’s name to the chart, she forced herself to focus. Whenever she conducted her research on people whom she knew, she often thought about their personal stories. Her second cousin Harold had moved to Tibet and his sister, Georgina, had married a man from England and was raising her children in the countryside. Pippa had always liked Georgina because she’d been such a down-to-earth sort of woman. It was a shame she didn’t see her more often.

Harold and Georgina’s deceased parents had owned a lovely cottage on the other side of Chantaine that was now left vacant because neither Harold nor Georgina visited Chantaine very often. Why, in fact, Pippa was certain it had been nearly eight years since either of her second cousins had set foot on Chantaine.

Pippa stopped dead, staring at the cursor on her laptop. Vacant lovely cottage. Nic’s parents.

“Stop it,” she hissed to herself. It would be incredibly disloyal. If her brother Stefan ever found out, he would never forgive her. And there was no way he wouldn’t find out. Not with her security haunting her. She was lucky she’d escaped discovery today.

Back to work, she told herself sternly and worked past midnight. She finally crawled into bed, hopeful she would fall into deep sleep. Thank goodness, she did. Sometime during the night, she sank into a dream where a black limo crawled through a beautiful cemetery. Cars and people dressed in black but carrying flowers followed the limo. Everything inside her clinched with pain. A white butterfly fluttered over the black limo, capturing her attention. It could have been the spirit of…

Pippa suddenly awakened, disoriented, the images of the limo and the butterfly mingling in her mind. She sat up in bed, her heart slamming into her chest. Images of her brother Stefan, Nic, his mother, Amelie.

This wasn’t her business, she told herself. Her heart ached for Nic and his mother, but she couldn’t go against her family to make his mother’s dream come true. She just couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. It would be a terrible betrayal.

She tried to catch her breath and closed her eyes. She tried to make her brain stop spinning. How could she possibly deceive her family for Nic? For Amelie?

But how could she not?

Chapter Two

It took most of the rest of the day to catch up with her cousin to get permission to use the cottage. Georgina was so gracious that it made Pippa feel guilty. Oh, well, if she was going to go through with providing the cottage for Nic’s mother and father, then her web of deception was just getting started. The choice to deceive her family was unforgivable, but the choice to turn her back on Amelie was more unacceptable. Her stomach churned because she wasn’t a dishonest person. The prospect of all the lies she would have to tell put a bad taste in her mouth.

She would normally try to reason with Stefan, but Pippa knew her entire family was unreasonable about the Lafitte matter. She would have to learn to push aside her slimy feelings about this and press on. The first task was to call Nic.

Nic studied the recent reports from his and his father’s business on his tablet PC while he drank a glass of Scotch. He took a deep breath of the Mediterranean night air as he sat on the deck of his yacht anchored close enough to shore for his mother to catch a glimpse of her precious Chantaine whenever she liked. He just hoped she didn’t do anything impulsive like jump overboard and swim to shore. Rubbing his chin, he shuddered at what a nightmare that would be. He couldn’t put it past her, though, especially after she’d sneaked off the other morning.

Nic was caught somewhere between genie and parent, and he wasn’t equipped to be either. The reports on both his father’s businesses and his own looked okay for the moment, but he knew he would have to go back to the States soon for his father’s company. With Amelie’s illness, Paul Lafitte had understandably been distracted. Despite the fact that they’d separated on two different occasions, Amelie was the light of Paul’s life and Nic wasn’t sure how his father would survive after his mother… Nic didn’t even want to think the word, let alone say it, even though he knew the time was coming.

Sighing, he took another sip of his Scotch and heard the vibrating buzz of his cell phone. The number on the caller ID surprised him. After his surprise meeting with Princess Pippa the other morning, he figured he’d never see her again except for public affairs.

He picked up the phone and punched the call button. “Nic Lafitte. Your Highness, what a surprise,” he said, unable to keep the bite from his voice. Pippa had turned out to be the tease of his life.

“Hello. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, her voice tense with nerves, which made him curious.

“Just a perfect glass of Scotch and rare solitude,” he said.

A short silence followed. “Well, pardon the interruption, but I have some news that may be of interest to you.”

“You called to tell me you missed me,” he said, unable to resist the urge to bother her. During and after their little interlude last year, the woman had bothered the hell out of him.

He heard her sharp intake of breath and realized he’d scored. “I called about your mother.”

His pleasure immediately diminished. “What about her? Have you discussed the situation with your family, and now they won’t even allow her and my father in the harbor?”

“No, of course not,” Pippa said. “If you would just let me finish—”

“Go ahead,” he said, the semi-peacefulness of the evening now ruined.

“I found a cottage for your parents where they can stay,” she said.

Nic blinked in sudden, silent surprise.

“Nic, did you hear me?”

“Yes. Repeat that please.”

“I found a cottage for your parents on Chantaine,” she said.

“Why?” he demanded.

Another gap of silence followed. “Um, well, I have these cousins Georgina and Harry and neither of them live in Chantaine anymore. They haven’t even visited in years, and they inherited a cottage from their parents. It’s been vacant, again for years, so I thought, why not?”

“Exactly,” Nic said. “Why not? Except for the fact that my father has been banned from setting foot on Chantaine. I don’t suppose your brother experienced a sudden wave of compassion, or just a rational moment and has decided to pardon Paul Lafitte.”

“You don’t need to insult Stefan,” she said. “My brother is just defending my father’s honor.”

“Even though Stefan wouldn’t have been born if your father had married Amelie,” Nic said.

“Yes, I know it’s not particularly logical, but the point is I have found this house. Your mother wants more time in Chantaine. Staying there can make it happen.”

“You still haven’t addressed the issue about my father,” Nic said.

“Well, I thought we could work around that. Your mother mentioned that he broke his foot, so it’s not as if he’ll be able to tour much. When he does, perhaps he could wear a hat and glasses.”

“And a fake mustache?” he added, rolling his eyes. It was a ludicrous plan.

“I know it’s not perfect,” she said.

“Far from it,” he said.

“But it’s better than nothing.”

“I can’t take the chance that my father will end up in jail.”

“Perhaps that’s not your decision to make,” she countered, surprising him.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean shouldn’t he be given the choice?” she asked. “Besides, your father’s presence may never be discovered. It’s not as if there are copies of his photo posted everywhere the way you do in the States.”

“It’s called a Wanted Poster, and they’re mostly just displayed in post offices and convenience stores these days. We’ve progressed since the Wild West days,” he said.

“Exactly,” she said. “And so have we. No one has been beheaded in over one hundred and fifty years, and we haven’t used the dungeon as a prison for nearly a hundred.”

“Why don’t I feel better? I know that Chantaine doesn’t operate under the policy of innocent until proven guilty. Your judicial system, and I use the term loosely, moves slower than the process of turning coal into diamonds.”

“I didn’t call to debate my country’s judicial system. I called to offer a place to stay for your mother and father. If you want it, I shall arrange to have it cleaned and prepared for them. Otherwise…” She paused and he heard her take a breath.

“Otherwise?” he prompted.

“Otherwise, ciao,” she said and hung up on him.

Nic blinked again. Princess Pippa wasn’t the rollover he’d thought she was. He downed the rest of his exquisite Scotch, barely tasting it. What the hell. She had surprised him. Now he had to make a decision. Although his father had caused trouble for the entire family, Nic felt protective of him, especially in his father’s current state with his broken foot and his grief over Amelie.

Nic closed his eyes and swore under his breath. He already knew how his father would respond if given the choice of risking prosecution in Chantaine. Paul Lafitte was a blustering bear and bull. He would love the challenge… even if he was in traction and confined to the house.

Raking his hand through his hair, he knew what he had to do. He walked inside to the stateroom lounge where his father dozed in front of the television. A baseball game was playing and his father was propped in an easy chair snoring.

Maybe he should wait until tomorrow, Nic thought and turned off the television.

His father gave a loud snort and his eyes snapped open. “What happened? Who’s ahead?”

“Rangers,” Nic lied. The Rangers were having a terrible season.

“Yeah, and I’m the Easter bunny,” his father said.

Nic gave a dry laugh. His father was selective with the use of denial, and apparently he wasn’t going to exercise that muscle with the Rangers tonight. “Good luck hopping,” he said. “You need anything to drink?”

“Nah. Take a seat. What’s on your mind? I can tell something’s going on,” he said, waving his hand as if the yacht belonged to him instead of Nic.

Nic sank onto the sofa next to his father. “I got an interesting call tonight.”

“Must have been a woman. Was she pregnant?” his father asked.

Nic gave a short laugh. “Nothing like that. I’ve been offered a cottage where you and Mom can stay. On Chantaine.”

His dad gave a low whistle. “How did you manage that?”

Nic shrugged. “Lucky, I guess. The problem is you still have legal issues in Chantaine.”

His dad smiled and rubbed his mouth. “So I do, and punching Prince Edward in the face after he insulted your mother was worth it ten times over.”

“Easy to say, but if you stay in Chantaine, there’s a possibility that you could get caught.” Nic shook his head. “Dad, with their legal system, you could be stuck in jail for a while.”

“So?” he asked.

“So, it’s a risk. You’re not the young buck you once were. You could end up stuck there while Mom is…” He didn’t want to say the rest.

His father narrowed his eyes. It was an expression Nic had seen several times on his father’s face. The dare a pirate couldn’t deny. He descended from wily pirates. His father was no different, although his father had gotten caught a few times. “Your mother wants to rest in Chantaine. We’ll accept the kind offer of your friend. To hell with the Devereauxs.”

“Might not want to go that far,” Nic said, thinking another glass of Scotch was in order. “A Devereaux is giving you the cottage.”

“Well, now that sounds like quite the story,” his father said, his shaggy eyebrows lifted high on his forehead.

“Another time,” Nic said. “You need to rest up for your next voyage.”

His father gave a mysterious smile. “If my great-great-grandfather escaped the authorities on a peg leg, I can do it with a cast.”

Nic groaned. “No need to push it, Dad.”

The next morning, he dialed the princess.

“Hello,” she said in a sleep-sexy voice that did weird things to his gut.

“This is Nic. We’ll accept your kind offer. Meet me at the cottage and I’ll clean it. The less people involved, the better.”

Silence followed. “I didn’t think of that,” she confessed. “I’m accustomed to staff taking oaths of silence.”

He smiled at her naïveté. “This is a different game. Too many people need to be protected. You, my mother and father. We need to keep this as quiet and low-profile as possible.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the cottage mid-morning,” she said.

“What about your security?” he asked.

“I’ll tell them I’m going to the library,” she said.

“Won’t they follow you?”

“I’ll go to the library first. They’ll get bored. They always do.”

“Who are these idiots on your security detail?” he asked.

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” he said. “And yes.”

She laughed, and the breathless sound made his chest expand. He suddenly felt lighter. “How do you end up with the light end of the security detail?”

“I’m boring. I don’t go clubbing. I’ve never been on drugs. I babysit my nieces and nephews. I study genealogy, for bloody’s sake.”

He nodded, approving her M.O. “Well done, but does that fence ever feel a little too tall for you? Ever want to climb out?”

“I climb out when I want,” she said in a cool voice. “I’ll see you this afternoon around 1:00 p.m. The address is 307 Sea Breeze. Ciao,” she said and hung up before he could reply.

Nic pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. He was unaccustomed to having anyone hang up on him, let alone a woman. He must have really gotten under Pippa’s skin to affect her manners that way. The possibility brought him pleasure. Again, he liked the idea of bothering her.

Just before one, he pulled past the overgrown hedges of the driveway leading to an expansive bungalow. Looked like there was a separate guest bedroom. Dibs, he thought. He could sleep there and keep track of his parents while keeping on top of the businesses.

He stopped his car behind another—Pippa’s. He recognized it from the other day. Curious, he stepped from his vehicle and walked to the front door and knocked. He waited. No answer. He knocked again.

No answer again, so he looked at the doorknob and picked the lock. Pirates had their skills. He opened the door and was shocked speechless at the sight in front of him. Pippa, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with her wild hair pulled back in a ponytail, was vacuuming the den.

The princess had a very nice backside, which he enjoyed watching for a full moment… okay, two.

Pippa turned and spotted him, screaming and dropping the vacuum handle. She clutched her throat with her hands. The appliance made a loud groan of protest.

“Did you consider knocking?” she demanded.

He lifted two fingers, then pulled up the vacuum cleaner handle and turned it off. “Twice. You didn’t answer. I would have never dreamed you could be a cleaning fairy. This is a stretch.”

“I spent a couple summers in a rustic camp in Norway. Cleaning was compulsory. We also cleaned the homes of several of the camp leaders.”

“You didn’t mention this to your parents?” he asked.

She laughed. “I didn’t speak to my parents very often. I mentioned something about it to my nanny after the second summer and was never sent back after that. The cleaning wasn’t that bad. The camp had a fabulous library and no one edited my reading choices. Heaven for me,” she said.

“Will clean for books?” he said.

She smiled and met his gaze. “Something like that.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and saw the second that her awareness of him hit her. Breaking the visual connection, she cleared her throat. “Well, I should get back to work.”

“Anything special you want me to do?”

“Mop the floors if you don’t mind. I’ve already dusted the entire house, but haven’t touched the guest quarters outside. I think it would also be a good idea for you to assess the arrangement of the furniture throughout the house for any special needs your parents may have, such as your father’s foot problem. We don’t want him tripping and prolonging his recovery.”

“I don’t know. It might be a good thing if my father is immobile. He could cause trouble when he’s full strength,” Nic said. “He’s always been a rebellious, impulsive man. I hate to say it, but he might just take a trip out of the house so he can feel like he’s flying in the face of your family.”

Pippa winced. “He wouldn’t admit his name, would he?”

“I hope not. That’s part of the reason I wasn’t sure this was a good idea,” he said.

“What made you change your mind?”

“You did. My father will be okay if he’s reminded that his responsibility is to make this time for my mother as trouble-free as possible. I’ll make sure he gets that message in multiple modalities every day.”

“Thank you very much,” she said.

“If you’re so terrified that your family will find out, why did you take this risk for yourself? Your relationship with your brothers and sisters will never be the same if they know you did this.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a half beat as if to bolster her determination. “I hate the idea of disappointing my brothers and sisters. I hate it more than you can imagine, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I could help your mother with this one wish if I had the ability. And I have the ability.”

“I’ll do what I can to make sure the rest of the Devereauxs don’t find out. I haven’t told my mother yet about the cottage. She’s going to be very excited.”

Pippa smiled. “I hope so.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll go check out the bedrooms.”

An hour later, after Pippa finished vacuuming and tackled the kitchen, she found Nic cleaning the hall bathroom. It was an ironic sight. Hot six-foot-four international businessman scrubbing the tub. Just as he wouldn’t expect to find her turn into a cleaning machine, she wouldn’t expect the same of him, either. She couldn’t help admiring the way his broad shoulders followed the shape of a V to his waist. Even in a T-shirt, the man looked great from behind. Bloody shame for her. Get your mind out of the gutter.

He turned around before she had a chance to clear her throat or utter a syllable. She stared at him speechless for a second, fearing he could read her mind. Not possible, she told herself as she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

In too many ways, she thought, but refused to dwell on them. “I’m almost finished with the kitchen, and it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to arrange for some groceries to be picked up for your parents before they arrive.”

“Groceries?” he echoed.

“Yes, I was hoping you could help with a list.”

He made a face. “I don’t do a lot of grocery shopping. My housekeeper takes care of that.”

“I have less experience with grocery shopping that I do with cleaning. That’s why I thought we could send someone.”

“Who can we trust?” he asked.

She winced. “Excellent point.”

“After we move them in, I’ll just arrange for a member of my staff from the yacht to take care of house and shopping duties,” he said. “But unless we want to delay their move-in, it looks like we’ll need to do the initial run ourselves.”

“We?” she squeaked.

“I didn’t think it would be nice to ask you to do it by yourself,” he said.

But it had clearly crossed his mind. She frowned.

“Will that put you a little close for comfort to the plebeians?”

“No,” she told him, detesting the superior challenging expression on his face. “I was just trying to remember if I’d left my cap in my vehicle.”

“I have an extra,” he said. “I’ll take you in my car.”

“What about the list?”

“We’ll wing it,” he said.

Moments later, she grabbed her cap from her car and perched her oversize sunglasses on her nose. She didn’t bother to look at her reflection. After spending the afternoon cleaning, she knew she didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a princess. Nic opened the passenger door for her and she slid into his car.

After he climbed into the driver’s side, the space inside his Mercedes seemed to shrink. She inhaled to compensate for the way her lungs seemed to narrow at Nic’s proximity, but only succeeded in drawing in a draft of the combination of his masculine scent and subtle but sexy cologne. He pulled out of the driveway.

“Which way to the nearest market?” he asked.

Pippa blinked. She had no idea.

“Here,” he said, handing her his phone. “Find one on my smartphone.”

It took a couple moments, and Nic had to backtrack, but they were moving in the right direction.

“I’m thinking eggs, milk, bread and perhaps some fruit,” she said, associating each item with one of her fingers. It was a memory trick she’d taught herself when she was young. The only problem was when she ran out of fingers.

“Chocolate, cookies and wine,” Nic added. “A bakery cake if we can find it. My mother’s priority for eating healthy went down the tubes after her last appointment with the doctor. My dad will want booze and carbs. His idea of health food is a pork roast with a loaded baked potato.”

“Oh, my,” she said, trying to wrap her head around Nic’s list versus hers. “I hope we can find—”

“They’ll be happy with whatever we get for the first twenty-four hours,” Nic said as he pulled into the parking lot. “Let’s just do this fast,” he added and pulled on a ball cap of his own. “The faster we move, the less chance you have of being discovered.”

“I think I’m well-disguised,” she said as he opened the door and helped her out of the car.

“Until you open your mouth,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?”

He led her toward the door of the market. “I mean you have a refined, distinctive voice, PD. A combination of husky sweet and so proper you could have been in Regency England.”

“PD,” she echoed, then realized PD stood for Pippa Devereaux. “Well, at least I look ordinary,” she huffed.

He stopped beside her. “And I don’t,” he said, tugging on his ball cap.

She allowed herself a forbidden moment of looking at him from head to toe. He could have been dressed in rags and he would be sexy. She swallowed an oath. “You don’t know the meaning of ordinary,” she said and walked in front of him.

Hearing Nic grab a cart behind her, she moved toward the produce. “Surely, they’d enjoy some fruit. Your mother seemed to favor fruit crepes the other day.”

“They were wrapped in sugar,” he said as she picked up a bunch of bananas and studied them. “In the basket,” he instructed. “We have a need for speed, PD.”

“I’m not sure I like being called PD,” she said, fighting a scowl as she put the bananas in the cart.

He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Would you prefer PP instead? For Princess Pippa?”

A shiver of awareness raced through her and she quickly stepped away. “Not at all,” she said and picked up an apricot. “Does this look ripe?”

“It’s perfect,” he said, swiping it from her hand and added two more to the cart. “Now, move along.”

She shot him an affronted look but began to walk. “No one except my brothers or sisters would dream of speaking to me that way.”

“One of my many charms, PD,” he said and tossed a loaf of bread into the cart.

Moments later, after throwing several items into the cart, they arrived at the register. Pippa picked up a bag of marshmallows.

“Good job,” he said.

“I thought they could make that camping dessert you Americans eat,” Pippa said. She’d read about it in a book.

“Camping treat?” he echoed.

“Some More of something,” she said.

His eyes widened. “S’mores,” he said. “We need chocolate bars and graham crackers. Get him to hold you,” he said and strode away.

“Hold me?” she said at the unfamiliar expression and caught the cashier studying her. He was several years younger than she was with rings and piercing in places that made her think ouch.

He leaned toward her. “If you need holding, I can help you after I finish my shift,” he said in a low voice.

Embarrassment flooded through her. She was rarely in a position for a man to flirt with her. Her brother usually set her up with men at least twenty years older, who wouldn’t dare make an improper advance, so she wasn’t experienced with giving a proper response. “The grocery order,” she finally managed. “I was repeating what my, uh, friend said. He misspoke, as he often does. The grocery order need holding.”

The cashier looked disappointed. “The customer behind you is ready.”

Pippa considered pulling royal rank, but knew it would only hurt her in the end, so she stepped aside and allowed the person behind her with a mammoth order go first.

Less than a moment later, Nic appeared with chocolate bars and graham crackers. He glanced at the person in front of her and frowned. “How did that happen? I told you to hold the cashier.”

“There was a mix-up and he thought I wanted, uh, him for reasons other than his professional duties. When I refused his kind invitation, he felt spurned and allowed the customer behind me to proceed.” She sighed. “Do all men have such delicate egos?”

Nic lifted a dark brow before he pulled his sunglasses over his eyes. “Depends on how many mixed messages we get. Poor guy.”

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