A Prince for Jenny Read Online Free Page A

Daniel."
    "I'm glad too." Was he? A part of him was turning cartwheels at the sheer ecstasy of being in her sweet presence, but a part of him was weeping.
    "You will stay while I paint the children?"
    "Yes." Sullivan Enterprises seemed another world away, and suddenly not so very important.
    "I knew you would." She stood, smiling down at him, with her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "And afterward, we'll all have a tea party."
    Daniel was overwhelmed, a prisoner of her tender touch and innocent expectations. He sat in her delicate wicker chair sipping the cold tea while she tamed his two hellions with gentle persuasion.
    "Let's swing." She climbed aboard a rope swing as happy as a child herself. His children's joyous laughter drifted upward, then Jenny left her swing and took up her brush.
    Her hands flew over the canvas, as fragile looking as two snowbirds, but swift and sure. When she finally laid the brushes aside, he was amazed that he'd watched for an hour instead of only minutes.
    "Are you ready for a tea party?" Jenny asked his children.
    "Yeah!" They raced to her and caught her hands, with Megan grinning up at her and asking, "Can the animals come too?"
    "Yes. Go inside and bring them out, and I'll get the cookies and tea."
    She started across the yard, an enchanting woman who made Daniel forget everything except the magic of being in her presence.
    "I'll help," he said, under her spell. And that's how he found himself in the kitchen pouring tea into tiny cups and laughing.
    Later they ended up sitting in a lopsided circle on the grass—Megan holding onto Eleanor and Franklin, the guinea pigs, Patrick hugging Ruby and Marilyn, the prissy Persians, and Jenny cuddling Ralph and Ernest, the fluffy mutts.
    Daniel sat beside Jenny, feeling a contentment he hadn't known in years.
    "It's peaceful in your garden, Jenny."
    "I love gardens. The birds and the flowers don't mind that I'm different." There was quiet dignity in her voice and not a shred of self-pity.
    The world was full of thoughtless cruelty, especially for people who didn't fit the norm, and the idea that Jenny had suffered filled Daniel with helpless rage. He tried to think of a response that wouldn't sound condescending.
    "I don't care if Jenny's taller," Megan said. "Do you, Daddy?"
    "Not in the least." He'd never been prouder of his daughter. "We don't mind if she's prettier than other people either, do we?"
    "Nope."
    "And more talented?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see joy bloom across Jenny's face. Daniel felt as if he'd won an Olympic gold medal.
    "Nope."
    "See, Jenny. We're like the birds and the flowers." He turned to her, smiling, and suddenly he got lost in her blue eyes. "We like you exactly the way you are."
    "And I like you." She touched his hand softly. "I think you're wonderful."
    He wasn't, not by a long shot. His father knew it; Claire knew. But being called wonderful felt damned good, and so he kept sitting in the flower garden when plain common sense told him he ought to go. Was he selfish to want Jenny to keep thinking of him as wonderful?
    "Daniel." Jenny leaned close to him, her face rosy. "Do you dream?"
    Cynical men didn't dream, but he didn't tell Jenny that. Instead he said, "Do you?"
    "Yes, I dream about going off to see the world." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "I'll drive myself, so I can stop in the woods and wade in the rivers and sit under the trees and listen to the birds. And I'll go in a bus big enough for my animals."
    He doubted that she could drive a car, let alone a bus, but he pretended to believe in her vision.
    "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jenny," he said, and meant it. "Usually when I travel, I race along the interstates from motel to motel, seeing nothing but fast-food restaurants and shopping malls."
    "Can you teach me to drive a bus?" She leaned toward him, earnest in her request
    "You can already drive a car, I assume."
    "Oh, no. Not yet." She broke a cookie into four pieces and gave one