Bedroom Diplomacy. Michelle Celmer

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      “If there is a next time. If you can’t manage something as simple as wiping up paint, how can you be expected to adequately care for children?”

      “I’m sorry,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say.

      “After all I’ve done for you and Dylan…” He shook his head, as if he had no words to describe her audacity and selfishness. Then for dramatic effect, he stormed out in a huff.

      She slumped against the wall, angry and frustrated and yes, hurt. But not defeated. He could keep knocking her down, but she would always get back up again.

      “Hey, Row?”

      Tricia stood in the doorway, looking concerned. “You okay?”

      She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and forced what probably looked more like a grimace than a smile. “No big deal.”

      “I heard what he said about the paint. That was my fault. I asked April to wipe the tables down and I guess I forget to check if she’d missed anything. I know how picky he is when he brings people in. I should have been more careful. I’m so sorry.”

      “Tricia, if it hadn’t been the paint, it would have been something else. You know that he always finds something.”

      “It’s not right the way he treats you.”

      “I put him through a lot.”

      “You’ve changed, Row. You’ve pulled your life together.”

      “But I wouldn’t have been able to do it without his help. You can’t deny that he’s done a lot for me and Dylan.”

      “That’s what he wants you to think. But that doesn’t make it okay for him to treat you like an indentured servant. You would manage just fine on your own.”

      She wanted to believe that, but the last time she’d been on her own she had made a total mess of her life.

      “You know the offer still stands. If you and Dylan want to come stay with me for a while…”

      And the instant she left, he would cut off not just her but Dylan, as well. And without the money to pay for his medical care, her father would have all the ammunition he needed to take Dylan away from her. She’d been hearing that threat since the day Dylan was born. It was the ultimate punishment, and she didn’t doubt for a second that he would do it.

      “I can’t, Tricia, but I love you for offering.”

      Her own irresponsibility and carelessness were what had gotten her into this mess, and she was the only one who could get herself out.

      Colin had never put much stock in rumors. In a royal family, even on the outermost fringes, gossip spread like a disease. Which was why, when he heard the speculation about the senator’s daughter, out of fairness and respect, he reserved judgment. And maybe he was missing something, but she’d seemed all right to him. Of course, she could have had two heads and hooves for feet and he would have been perfectly gracious.

      This assignment was Colin’s first go as a diplomat, and certainly not somewhere he had intended to be at this point in his life—or ever, for that matter—but he was making the best of an unfortunate situation. He had been warned that when dealing with American politicians, especially one as powerful and influential as Senator Tate, he would be wise to watch his back. The senator was a man who got things done. When he put the weight of his office behind legislation, his colleagues naturally fell in line. The royal family was counting on Colin to ensure that the tech treaty, a crucial piece of legislation for both the U.K. and the U.S., became law.

      Too many high-profile instances of phone and internet hacking had been occurring in both the U.K. and the U.S. A tech treaty would give international law enforcement the tools to see that the guilty parties were brought to justice.

      Due to illegal hacking, President Morrow had been outed as having an illegitimate daughter by the press at his own inaugural ball in front of family, friends and celebrities. Even worse, his supposed illegitimate daughter, Ariella Winthrop, had been standing a few feet away from him when the news broke and was taken by complete surprise herself.

      The U.S. was finally willing to negotiate. It was up to Colin to see it through.

      He’d made it nearly halfway up the bricked trail to the mansion when Senator Tate caught up to him, saying, “Again, my apologies.”

      “As I said, it’s not a problem.”

      “It’s no secret that Rowena had problems in the past,” the senator said. “She has worked hard to overcome them.”

      Still, the senator seemed to keep her on a very short leash. It was silly to get so upset over something as simple as spilled paint.

      “I think we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”

      The senator was quiet for several seconds, then, looking troubled, said, “Can I be direct with you, Colin?”

      “Of course.”

      “I understand that you have something of a reputation as a womanizer.”

      “I do?”

      “I don’t mean to imply that I would hold that against you,” the senator said. “How you lead your life is your business.”

      Colin wouldn’t deny that he had dated his share of women, but he was no cad. He never dated a woman without first making it absolutely clear that he was in no hurry to settle down, and he never promised exclusivity.

      “Sir, this so-called reputation of mine sounds a bit hyperbolic.”

      “You’re young, in your prime, and I don’t fault you for playing the field.”

      Colin sensed an unspoken “however” at the end of that sentence.

      “Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even bring it up, but I’ve welcomed you into my home for an extended stay, and I should make it clear that there are certain ground rules I expect you to follow.”

       Ground rules?

      “My daughter can be very… impulsive and in the past has been a target for unscrupulous men who think they can use her to get to me. Or simply just use her.”

      “Sir, let me assure you—”

      He held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not an accusation.”

      It certainly felt like one.

      “That said, I must insist that as long as you’re staying in my home, you are to consider my daughter off-limits.”

      Well, it didn’t get much more direct than that.

      “Can I count on you to do the right thing, son?”

      “Of course,” Colin said, unsure if he should feel slighted or amused or if he should pity the senator. “I’m here to work on the treaty.”

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