The Improperly Pregnant Princess

“I’ll escort you to your apartment building, if you like,” Shane said. “Or are you heading to the office?”

“The apartment.” She pushed a wing of blond hair off her temple and started to step off the curb against the light.

He grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“I’m a little distracted,” CeCe said.

“Tell me it’s the effect of my boyish charm,” Shane teased.

“Sorry, but it isn’t.”

The light changed and they crossed in a swarm of people. For no logical reason, he found himself wanting to protect her against jostling passersby.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again. “Anything I can help you with?”

CeCe’s eyes widened. “You want to help me?”

“If I can.” He wondered if she was surprised by the idea that a woman in her lofty position might need anything from a man who’d had to claw his way up in the world. No, he thought, CeCe had never struck him as a snob. “What’s going on?”

“It’s…personal,” she said.

Personal. That might mean she was seeing another guy. Shane disliked that notion thoroughly.

They veered onto a park path. Most of the other strollers were elderly people or mothers with young children. A couple of students, book bags at their feet, sat on a park bench, smooching.

On the lake, a few brave souls were ice skating. One tiny ballerina spun around three times and then, losing her balance, plopped onto her rear end.

“So is he in the shipping business, too?” Shane asked.

“Is who in the shipping business?”

“This personal problem,” he said.

CeCe burst out laughing. “I don’t believe you said that!”

She thought he was jealous, Shane realized. Of course he wasn’t. “Not that I care,” he added.

“It’s my family,” CeCe said. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you any more than that. They’re very strict about privacy.”

Not having had a family since he was twelve, Shane had no idea what sort of matters families kept to themselves. He didn’t enjoy feeling like an outsider. “We’re practically partners. Your business is my business.”

“This isn’t business,” CeCe corrected him. The cold air stung her cheeks and brightened her eyes, or perhaps the sunlight merely highlighted the changes Shane had noticed in the restaurant.

He decided not to pursue the subject. Instead, he made conversation about Mr. Wong and how their meeting had gone.

CeCe relaxed. Any minute, he thought, she’d let slip whatever was bothering her and then he could help her fix it.

SHE OUGHT TO TELL SHANE about the pregnancy, CeCe thought. But if she did, she would have to mention the repercussions involving her grandfather’s visit and his offer to make her queen, both of which were state secrets.

It wasn’t as if Shane was eager to be a father, she reminded herself. He’d made it clear how much he disliked children.

Also, from working in a mostly male environment, CeCe knew that most men’s reaction to a problem was to leap in with an instant solution. That worked all right in business situations. When it came to personal matters, however, she would find it highhanded and infuriating.

She didn’t want to get irritated with Shane today. His presence comforted her, even though she couldn’t confide in him.

Central Park was a different place when she was with him. Usually, she walked through it mentally reviewing reports and formulating plans for DeLacey Shipping.

Today, she didn’t want to concentrate on anything but Shane. The pattern of light and shadow falling across his face fascinated her. So did the vulnerable twist of his mouth.

Despite his protestations, what kind of father would he make? CeCe watched a mittened toddler tossing a ball with his father and tried to picture Shane in the man’s stead. She couldn’t make the stretch.

At least his company was peaceful. So peaceful that it wasn’t quite normal.

“I know what’s missing,” she said.

“What?”

“Your cell phone’s not ringing.”

“Neither is yours,” he said.

“I turned it off during brunch. So did you, I guess.” When he nodded, CeCe said, “Maybe we should both turn them on.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

He moved closer. Despite their coats, she could feel heat radiating from his body. It made her itch to slide her hands inside his clothing and stroke his chest.

If she became queen, she would have to choose a husband who could reign alongside her, presumably someone from European nobility. CeCe hoped it was possible for her to get this excited about being close to another man. If she couldn’t, well, she supposed that was the price a queen had to pay.

But right now, she had Shane to herself. There were so many details of his life that she wondered about, and it might be her last chance to ask him.

“Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” she said.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve heard the stories about your being an orphan.” Seeing nothing in his expression to indicate she was trespassing on forbidden territory, she continued, “I’ve read that you built a struggling air-freight company into a major contender by carving out your own niche in the package-delivery business.”

“You left out the part about my dogged work ethic and brilliant flashes of insight,” Shane joked. “Otherwise, you got it right.”

“What I never understood was how you got your hands on an air-freight company in the first place,” CeCe said.

“CPR,” he replied cryptically.

She tried to place the initials. “Is that a venture capitalist firm?”

“It stands for cardiopulmonary resuscitation.”

“Oh, that kind of CPR,” CeCe said.