child?
Annoyance mixed with uncertainty. Carlotta had managed to catch him off guard twice now. They were the only two times it had happened in his recent memory. This wasn’t a trend he liked.
He would just approach the chiild as he would an adult. “I am Prince Rodriguez Anguiano. What is your name?” That earned him little more than a wide-eyed stare from those green eyes.
“Luca,” said Carlotta. “His name is Luca.”
That she answered annoyed him, like she didn’t want her son speaking to him. It also made him feel a small measure of relief. Because it spared him from having to talk directly to Luca.
“Come with me,” he said, turning and heading to the palace.
He nearly laughed. He had been pretending that marrying Carlotta rather than Sophia changed nothing. And had been managing quite well. But now there was this. complication.
This was a difference that would be hard to ignore.
The massive doors to the palace opened and he ushered them in to the cavernous entryway. All glossy marble with a domed ceiling depicting intricate scenes of men and angels. Not to his taste at all. He’d never felt at home here. There was a reason he’d spent his young adult years in France and Spain, a reason he had his own penthouse in Barcelona still, even though his time avoiding Santa Christobel was over.
But now that his father was in the hospital, now that running the country was up to him, he’d had no choice but to come back. Even though it made him feel like he’d crawled into someone else’s skin. Ill-fitting. Uncomfortable. Nearly unbearable.
Now, another role he wasn’t made for. Husband. Father.
“There is no. no room prepared for Luca,” he said, careful not to look down at the top of the boy’s dark head.
“What?” she asked, finely arched brows locking together.
He gritted his teeth against rising annoyance. “Had you told me there would be a need …”
“You didn’t know?” She shot a look to Luca, then back to him, her eyes round with shock. “How did you not know?”
Luca was watching both of them, confusion in his eyes. That was something he remembered well about being a child. That lack of control. Knowing that your fate was in the hands of the adults around you. How little sense it made sometimes.
His stomach tightened, and he looked down at the boy again. “Luca, perhaps you would like to come out to the garden?”
The garden. Such as it was. It was a massive, sprawling green field in comparison to most lawns. But it was likely to keep a child busy. At least, he thought it would.
Luca nodded. “I like to play outside. Do you have a slide?”
Rodriguez looked at Carlotta, then back at Luca, a strange sensation—nerves?—making it hard to breathe. “No. No slides. But we could put one in.” Put one in? Like they were staying?
Of course they were staying. He’d signed a new marriage contract with King Eduardo before leaving Santina. But he hadn’t known about the child. About Luca. He’d known that he and Carlotta would have an heir … but an heir was. It sounded very detached. Unreal. The little boy with serious green eyes was real.
Too real.
“You don’t have to put a slide in,” said Carlotta. “Well, not today. Eventually I guess it might. Luca, let’s go outside.” She held out her hand and Luca wrapped his small fingers around hers. She looked at Rodriguez and he nodded, leading her through the entryway and down the main corridor that led out to the back terrace.
They stepped outside into the warm evening, the heat of the day long past, the setting sun casting electric orange stripes over the vivid green lawn.
“There isn’t a pond or anything is there?” she asked, eyeing the fenced-in area.
“No. It’s safe for him. This part here is just grass.”
“Go, run,” she said.
Luca smiled at Carlotta and trotted off the terrace, and Carlotta watched him, a soft expression on her face.
“The plane ride was long,” she said. “He really needed