Prince's Love-Child. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ anything she was more beautiful than ever; tall, golden and tanned, with the most incredible green eyes he had ever seen. Diamond McCall. And how she lived up to that name—her beauty was dazzling.

      Even in a skimpy pink T-shirt and ragged denim cut-offs, there was no doubting that this woman was someone. In Dee’s case, despite or because of her melodious English tones, she was the present highest-paid actress in Hollywood, her name at the top of the credits, and enough to guarantee any movie she was in would be a box-office hit.

      She was also someone else’s wife…!

      ‘I thought it was you!’ she exclaimed excitedly now, her face alight with pleasure as she smiled at him. ‘But how marvellous!’ she beamed, one long, slender hand reaching out to grasp the strength of his bare forearm. ‘I had heard that if you sat outside Fouquet’s on the Champs-Elysées for long enough you would eventually see everyone in Paris who was anyone walking by, but I never believed it until now!’ She gave an amazed shake of her head, long, honey-coloured hair swaying against her tanned shoulders. ‘What on earth are you doing in Paris?’

      His mind had gone completely blank. Had been so since the moment he looked into those deep green eyes.

      Why was he here? In fact, who the hell was he? Damned if he knew…!

      ‘Rik…?’ Dee gave him a quizzical look now. ‘You aren’t still angry with me, are you?’ she cooed.

      Angry with her? Had he ever been angry with her? Hadn’t his anger all been reserved for her manipulative stepmother and stepsister, both so determined that Dee would marry the mega-rich and powerful Jerome Powers? As he looked at Dee now, so beautiful, so intensely alive, it was difficult to believe anyone could ever be cruel or angry with her.

      She gave him a poutingly reproving smile. ‘At least say something, darling!’

      He wasn’t sure that he could, his tongue seeming cleaved to the roof of his mouth, like some awkward schoolboy. Which for a man of thirty-five, with a succession of screenwriting awards to his credit, plus ownership of a movie company with his older brothers, Nik and Zak, was pretty pathetic.

      It was because he had had no warning of this meeting, he consoled himself.

      Today had begun like any other day of his two months’ stay in Paris: he woke at eight o’clock, went for a brisk walk beside the Seine, returned to his hotel for a breakfast of coffee and croissants and lingering over the newspaper, before venturing out again later in search of somewhere to eat lunch.

      Nowhere in any of that relaxed routine had he had the least premonition that he would also see Dee McCall again today!

      But he had to say something, couldn’t stand here like a speechless moron for ever.

      ‘You’re looking well, Dee,’ he finally managed gruffly, his American accent totally at variance with her softer English tones.

      ‘So are you, Rik,’ she returned softly, her eyes flirting with him beneath lowered dark lashes. ‘Are you—?’

      ‘Is—?’ He broke off as they both began talking at once. ‘You first,’ he invited wryly.

      He might not have thought of this woman for months—years?—but when he had, he had never imagined the two of them meeting like this, awkwardly, stilted, like two strangers who had never been madly in love with each other. He hadn’t imagined Cathy and Heathcliffe either, but this—this was just banal!

      Dee gave him a mischievous smile. ‘I was just going to ask if you’re here with someone.’

      He shook his head. ‘And I was just going to ask if you were here with Jerome.’ Her husband. The man she had married five years ago instead of him. Despite all his pleadings for her to do otherwise.

      It wasn’t a period of his life he was particularly proud of, but at the time he had been so much in love with Dee that nothing else seemed to matter.

      At the time…?

      Yes, at the time, he realised dazedly now as he looked at her, because he wasn’t still in love with Dee; time, and absence, had made that impossible to sustain. It was the memory of what they once had together, those fierce, snatched times together, that had kept her memory so much alive.

      She had been so young, only twenty, on the way up in the world of acting, pressurised by her stepmother and stepsister into becoming engaged to and marrying Jerome Powers, then a man of forty and even more powerful in the world of media and entertainment than the three Prince brothers.

      Rik had argued, Dee had been stubbornly adamant, tearfully pleading with him to understand that she had to marry Jerome in order to get away from her grasping stepmother and stepsister. His promises that he could—and would—protect her in the same way, had all been tearfully rebuffed.

      No, he wasn’t still in love with Dee, but the anger he felt towards her stepmother and stepsister was still there!

      ‘Dee-Dee, you have to come and look at the most beautiful little purse and pocketbook we found for you!’ a man’s deep voice interrupted.

      Rik didn’t need to turn to know who that man was; only one person called Diamond McCall Dee-Dee in that possessive tone; Jerome Powers, Dee’s husband of the last five years.

      ‘Hello, who—Rik…? Rik Prince!’ Jerome greeted warmly as Rik finally steeled himself to turn and look at him. ‘What on earth are you doing in Paris?’ Jerome smiled at him warmly, at the same time dropping a lightly possessive arm about Dee’s shoulders.

      It was impossible not to like this man, with his genuine warmth and charm, his iron-grey hair and sophisticated good looks attracting women of all ages. Even Rik couldn’t help liking Jerome, and it would have been so much easier to dislike the man who was married to Dee.

      ‘I was working for a while,’ Rik answered, ‘but now I’m just taking a couple of days’ holiday before returning to the States.’

      Jerome nodded. ‘How are Nik and Zak? I heard they both got married recently. Making you the last of the Eligible Princes, I guess.’ He grinned good-humouredly.

      A grin Rik found very hard to return; if things had worked out for him five years ago he would have been the first of the Prince brothers to marry. Except the woman he had loved had married this guy instead…

      ‘They’re both good,’ Rik nodded. ‘Very happy, in fact.’ Yet another reason for him to spend this time in Paris. Not that he begrudged his older brothers their newfound happiness, because he didn’t, knew both of them were married to lovely women. But the settled happiness of his siblings made his own bachelor state seem all the more lonely.

      Meeting Dee again like this in the company of her husband wasn’t helping that situation.

      ‘Excellent.’ Jerome nodded happily. ‘Dee-Dee, would you like to come and look in the store? I just know you’re going to love the purse and pocketbook, and—hell, where are my manners?’ Jerome shook his head self-disgustedly. ‘I totally forgot to introduce Sapphie.’ He turned to smile apologetically at the woman standing slightly behind him.

      Rik hadn’t even noticed the petite, auburn-haired figure until then—what man would when in the company of a golden goddess?

      But as she stepped forward СКАЧАТЬ