Free The Making of a Princess by Teresa Carpenter

about you,” she finally gave into curiosity, “have you ever been married? Ever come close?”
    “No.” He spread his hands in front of him and shook his head, the expression in his eyes cloaked once again. “There was a girl from my neighborhood I dated intermittently through school and while I did my officer training.”
    “That probably made your mother happy.”
    “Very.” He shrugged and for the first time the gesture had a Gaelic feel to it. “Which is probably why I persevered for so long. I wanted to love her, to have what my parents have. In the end that is what kept me from marriage. I did not feel for her what my father felt for my mother.”
    “How did you gauge that? I imagine love to be very personal between two people. Your relationship will be very different from your parents’.”
    “This is true. However, what you are willing to sacrifice would perhaps not be so different.”
    “Ah.” Amanda tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the stew broth. She got what he meant and asked softly, “You wouldn’t give up a promotion for her?”
    “It was never a question for me that duty to my career and my Prince came first.”
    “That would be telling.”
    “I knew when I could not give her my grandmother’s ring.” He poked at his rice, and then pushed his plate away. “I thought about it, I knew it was expected. By heeding my reservations I hurt two women I care deeply for. But I could not put my family’s ring on Elayna’s finger. That is when I knew we were not right for each other.”
    “Two women. One being your mother. She wasn’t very happy with you.” When the waitress discretely delivered the bill, Amanda was ready with her card.
    “No.” The wry look he gave her made that an understatement. “But she understood. She told me when it came to love I should not compromise.”
    “And you haven’t?”
    “No.”
    “That took incredible honesty.” Impressed with his brave move, she reached out to him placing her hand on his forearm, feeling his heat and strength under her fingertips.
    “Yes. However, her understanding only goes so far. She reminds me often that she wants petits-enfants .”
    “Grandchildren.”
    “Yes. My sister has given her four beautiful grandchildren, two boys and two girls. Yet she will not be happy until she is bouncing my child on her knee.”
    She smiled. How funny to think of this intense security man, this soldier with the dangerous edge, being hounded by his mother for grandchildren. It made him seem more human, more approachable. She chewed on her inner lip. She found him nearly irresistible when she was a little in awe of his position and sense of duty.
    But today, after hearing more about his family, the love story between his mother and father, about how he believed in the power of love in a thriving relationship, she fell a little more for the man himself instead of the façade he showed the world.
    How she admired his honesty. It must have been difficult to walk away from a connection everyone but you thought perfect.
    She was in so much trouble.
    This thing between them was only supposed to be a fun fling with a foreign hottie. But the more she got to know him, the more she liked him.
    She wanted to hear more about his mother—she truly longed to meet this wise woman—and the nieces and nephews that brought a sparkle to his brown eyes. All things that added to his appeal beyond the physical attraction sizzling between them.
    “Come.” He held his hand out. “I will see you home before I return to my hotel.”
    She accepted his hand. The problem was she couldn’t bring herself to care about trouble.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    T HE SUN HAD given up any pretense of a fight and rain poured from the sky in sheets. Xavier waited in the vestibule of the restaurant for five minutes for it to let up a bit, but the deluge continued.
    Finally Amanda looked at him with resignation. He lifted one dark brow in question and she nodded.
    He grabbed her hand and