Interesting. All her fury had not burned away her desire for him. He was pleased, because he still wanted her as well, but that wasn't what he spoke of.
"I wish to have a relationship with my son," he said. "You wish that as well."
She opened her mouth, then closed it. He had suspected she wouldn't be comfortable saying she didn't want him to be close to Daniel. What mother stood in the way of a boy and his father bonding?
"You're still a pig," she said.
"So Kelly informed me. The women of your family are not afraid to speak their minds."
"We're good at it."
"I have noticed. Come. We will go see Daniel in his play and you will think about what I have said about Kelly. In time, you will admit I was right. I am not as insensitive as you think."
"Don't push it," she grumbled as she collected her purse.
"I will not." He held open the door. "I have a surprise. I bought a new car so that I would fit in with the other parents."
She stepped out and stared at the massive SUV. "That's the biggest thing I've ever seen. You think it's inconspicuous?"
"It does not have diplomatic flags. And see? Oliver and Umberto are driving in a different car. No one will notice them. We are just like everyone else."
"Oh, right," she muttered as she walked over to the SUV and eyed the high step. "We're the walking, breathing definition of normal."
15
Although Mia had mocked Rafael about his new SUV, she was actually pretty grateful to arrive at Danny's preschool in it rather than in a limo with diplomatic flags. As promised, Oliver and Umberto stayed in the background and did their security guard best to blend in. Which left her the yet unsolved problem of how to explain Rafael.
While she wasn't close with the other mothers in the school, she did chat with them from time to time. She'd never mentioned a father for Danny. Not that anyone had asked. In today's world of single mothers, no one thought it was unusual to be manless. But showing up with a well-dressed, gorgeous man who looked like a fallen angel and spoke like Antonio Banderas was bound to create just a little too much interest.
She stopped at the edge of the parking lot and looked at him. "I don't know how to explain you," she admitted. "To the people here."
"Will they ask?"
"Danny's been enrolled just over a year and this is your first time showing up. Not to mention the fact that you haven't exactly been a subject of conversation."
"All right. Tell them I am his father. We will smile pleasantly and keep moving. If you do not give them time to gather their thoughts, they will not be able to ask questions. Most people are too polite to pry in a setting such as this." He smiled. "You may get a few phone calls later."
She'd already figured that out. As for his plan, it was the only one they had.
"Let's go," she said, and led the way into the low, one-story building.
There were several small classrooms, three playrooms, and a big meeting room that currently had a stage at one end. Mia smiled at several of the mothers she knew and did her best to ignore their wide-eyed stares at Rafael. Oh yeah, there would be plenty of phone calls later.
The two of them took seats on the far side of the room, by a fire exit. There weren't any other parents sitting there yet. She had a feeling that spot had been prearranged and that Umberto and Oliver were hovering just outside. She subtly shifted her chair a bit farther away from Rafael's so there would be no accidental touching. Right now she didn't need the distraction.
"I hope no one recognizes you," she muttered. "I'm not a big tabloid reader, but lots of other people are. I wouldn't enjoy someone standing up and screaming out your identity."
"Nor would I." He glanced around. "We do not have a camera. I did not think to bring one. This is Daniel's first play. We must have pictures." He started to rise. "Instruct them not to begin the play until I have returned."
Mia put her hand on his arm. "Settle down. I have a camera." Then she realized they were touching and that the heat from his skin burned her in a way designed to make her rip off her clothes and beg to be taken right that second.
She casually removed her hand and reached into her bag for her digital camera.
Why did he still have to get to her? If only they hadn't made love. If she didn't have such incredible and recent memories, she would be able to ignore her physical attraction to him. She loathed the man with every fiber of her being and she absolutely hated suspecting that if they were alone and he started to seduce her, she wouldn't be able to say no.
In her head, she knew the opposite of love was apathy. That as long as she had energy in her feelings for Rafael, she was far from being over him. But in her heart, she wanted to slice her feelings away, like an unwanted disease. She wanted to forget how good he was with Danny, how he could be sensitive at the oddest times, how, until the Portuguese incident, he respected her intelligence.
Two months ago, her life had been relatively uncomplicated. Now it was fodder for a cable movie of the week.
"You told me Daniel is the star of the play," Rafael said.
"No I didn't. He's a tree. I told you he has three lines, just like every other child. This is preschool, not Broadway. There are no stars."
"But he is…" He lowered his voice. "He is the heir to the Calandrian throne."
"Gee, you know what? I didn't have that information when they were casting the play. What a shame, because if I'd told them I'm sure they would have made him the star."
Rafael stared at her. "Do you not believe your son is special?"
"Of course. But because of who he is on the inside. Not because of his relationship to you. I thought he was the most amazing child back when he was the son of an antiquities smuggler."
He frowned slightly. "I had not considered that. Were you angry when you discovered you were pregnant?"
"No. Not angry. Shocked. But I was going through a bad time, and finding out I was pregnant got me through it."
She really didn't want to talk about this. Why couldn't they be arguing about the light bill like the other parents?
"You mean because you thought I was dead," he told her.
"Whatever." She stared straight ahead.
"Mia." He leaned close until his mouth was almost touching her ear. "I did not mean to hurt you by letting you think I was dead. I did not consider that you would mourn me."
She turned to glare at him only to discover their faces were very, very close. "I told you I loved you. I don't say that to just anyone. I thought you were a real bad guy. I was violating every belief I had by being with you."
"I see that now. I am sorry for not understanding it then. Returning to my real life was traumatic. My father was very angry. I had neglected many duties. There were complications, but I should have considered your feelings."
It wasn't much of an apology, but considering the source, it wasn't bad. Unlike the last one, when he'd been whiny and had complained about being caught rather than being wrong.
"Fine," she muttered, and faced front again.
"This is nice," he said. "The preschool. The play."
"If you're going to launch into some sob story about how you never had a normal childhood with the hopes that I'll feel sorry for you, forget it."
"My childhood was fine," he told her. "One of great privilege. I had a series of very nice nannies and tutors until I was sent away to school."
He spoke so matter-of-factly that she couldn't tell if he was being casual or playing her.
"I'm glad Daniel will have more than that," he continued. "Different experiences."
"Which you wanted to take him away from."
"He would have carried the memories. They would have shaped him."
As if that was an excuse. "He's four. How much would he remember?"
"Enough." He glanced at her. "I did not mean to take him from you."
That got her attention. "Excuse me? That was your entire plan."
"Yes, I know. I am saying now, after considering what would have happened, I was wrong. I wanted my son in my life. I still want that. I want him to understand who he is. His history, his place in the world. But I see…"
When he paused she turned toward him. The urge to be sarcastic and cutting pressed in on her, but she resisted. Maybe, just maybe, she and Rafael were actually going to get to the truth for once.
"It would have been difficult for him," Rafael said slowly. "He would have missed you and your family. I would not have known what to say to comfort him. My father would have insisted he act like a prince and a new nanny would have been hired. I'm sure neither would have helped a four-year-old boy heal from that kind of wound."
"You're right. No child should have his whole world ripped from him. Sometimes things happen and it can't be helped. But it shouldn't happen like this."
His blue eyes darkened. "You know you can't keep him from me forever. Some point of compromise will have to be reached."
"You're ruining a perfectly good moment," she muttered as she fought against anger. "You have no right to talk to me about compromise after what you did."
"I know, but that does not change the truth. I want things to be different for Daniel. Better. I do not know how to make that happen. I would need your help."
As he spoke, he reached for her hand. She snatched it away. Any touching would only muddle her brain. It was just her bad luck that the first sex she'd had in nearly five years turned out to be with a lying weaselly dog.
"You would need my help if you were taking him away, but you're not, so there isn't a problem."
He settled back in his chair. "You're a very stubborn woman."
"It's a Marcelli trait. Something I'm very proud of."
She stared at the stage and was grateful that no one had come to sit near them yet. Talk about a fascinating conversation to overhear.
"You think I walked away from you and never thought of you again," he said.
Unable to resist the bait, she spun to face him. "Don't even go there. Don't try to convince me that you pined for me for even one second. We both know you didn't. If you had cared, you would have come after me. You would have told me you weren't dead. You would have done something. I was a way to pass the time while you were playing at being the bad guy."
"So much anger," he said as he touched her cheek.
She jerked her head back. "Stop touching me."
"As you wish."
He dropped his hand to his lap and she immediately wanted him to put it back on her.
"You've already done this dance, Rafael," she told him. "Stop lying. You can't sell me on believing in you again, so just let it go."
"I did not come after you," he said. "When I returned to the palace, my father was furious with me. He thought I had been studying abroad. When he found out I'd risked my life, he nearly locked me in the dungeon. I pointed out I was of age and free to live my life. He disagreed. I am, after all, the heir."
She rolled her eyes. "Is there an actual point?"
"I am the heir, Mia. I am expected to marry a particular kind of woman."
"I wasn't asking you to marry me, you egotistical creep. A postcard would have been nice. You let me think you were dead."
"I did not have a choice." He shook his head. "I chose not to have a choice. You were not someone I could have married. There was no point in caring about you anymore."
There were too many emotions, she thought, wishing she could simply leave. Anger and hurt and confusion and a deep, stupid desire to believe him.