The Billionaire Prince’s Surprise Son by Leslie North

4

The man had a driver.

It was surreal to ride in the back seat with Nic in this sleek black Maybach, with its luxurious leather interior and tinted windows, to the temporary residence that had been granted to all the fellowship recipients. She’d thought his Jag was upscale, back when they were residents. This? This was insane.

Nic looked a little nervous, but she knew that was because of Harry. The car and driver were afterthoughts—things he took for granted in his royal life.

She’d never dreamed of seeing Nic again, much less like this: a gorgeous aristocrat, living a life of sumptuous privilege, taking in the deference and luxury as effortlessly as breathing. Certainly, she never expected this on the way to introducing him to Harry. Her stomach roiled, and her mouth went dry.

It’s hard enough seeing him again. But on top of it… he’s a frickin’ prince?

Summer was still struggling with the fight-or-flight she’d experienced from the minute she recognized Nic. Honestly, part of her thought about packing Harry up and retreating back to the States. But this fellowship was a big deal. Not only was the Mynian Royal Hospital on the cusp of making some real strides in how medical care was administered, it was allowing her to specialize in pediatric surgery, and working with Dr. Buckham would be both a great experience as well as adding to her credibility. The fact that the fellowship offered high-quality childcare made it an absolute unicorn. She’d been challenged back in the States, trying to find a practice that would give her relatively stable hours so she could have childcare for Harry, all while paying rent and student loans. She didn’t want to walk away from this fellowship if she didn’t have to. Before she’d found out about Nic, she’d hoped to maybe get on the Mynian hospital staff permanently.

But now Nic was in the picture. Considering how quickly he’d cut ties with her in the past, she had no idea how he was going to react. He seemed to be in shock. He said he wanted to meet his son, but they’d never discussed children, or any kind of future, back when they were residents. It had seemed much too soon. Now, she felt indecision nibbling her around the edges.

We’ll see how he reacts.

“So, this is the temporary housing?” he said, as they walked through the corridors of the apartment-style hotel. “It’s not bad.”

“Trust me, I’ve stayed in worse,” she said, then stiffened. “Not with Harry! I mean… I always made sure we were somewhere nice, safe. Maybe not up to, ah, royal standards, but we did okay.”

She saw Nic’s jaw clench. She wondered if he was judging her, until his next words: “I can’t apologize enough. You should not have had to go through all of this alone.”

That was enough to throw her into silence. They finally made it to her suite, and she used the keycard to open the door.

“Look who it is! It’s Mommy!” a chipper voice said, with a toddler’s answering shriek of happiness. A middle-aged woman with corn-silk blonde hair and a round, kind face put the now-squirming child on the floor, and Summer immediately met him as he half-crawled, half-waddled over to her, holding his hands out like grasping starfish.

“Harry-bear!” Summer said, swooping him up and swirling him in an arc, making him giggle. “Were you a good boy for Alma today?” She looked at the woman the hospital had arranged to act as a sitter. They had a nursery at the hospital set up, but since none of the other fellows had kids, Alma had agreed to just watch Harry in their apartment.

“He was a little angel,” Alma reassured her, her smile broad. “And a pleasure to watch. When we get more doctors with families, I imagine I’ll be a lot busier, but then he’ll have playmates. Today, we played at the park nearby, and had a nap, and ate some… oh, my!”

Summer tilted her head, then realized that Alma had finally taken note of the man who had accompanied her. “Um, Alma, this is…”

“I know who this is,” Alma said quickly, dipping her head. “Your Highness! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s mine,” Nic said easily.

For a split second, Alma looked at Nic… then looked at Harry. Then looked back at Nic. Then quickly, too quickly, looked away.

“Ah… same time tomorrow?” Alma said to Summer, her cheeks turning pink.

“If that’s all right,” Summer agreed. “Thank you, so much.”

“I’ll look after this fellow any time. Till tomorrow, Harry!” She gave Harry an affectionate pat on the head, then did a weird little curtsy-thing towards Nic. Nic cleared his throat.

“Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t mention…” He stalled out, obviously unsure of how to word his warning.

“Trust me, Your Highness, I don’t say a word about things that aren’t my business,” Alma said, her tone brisk and business-like. Then her expression turned compassionate, almost sad. “After all your family has been through, a sweet child like Harry is a blessing.”

Before Summer could process what Alma was saying—Don’t say anything about this? And what the heck had Nic’s family been through?—Alma was out the door, leaving Nic to simply stare wordlessly at the door for a second.

Summer couldn’t blame Alma. Now that she’d seen the two of them in the same room, she couldn’t help but notice: Harry was the spitting image of Nic, from the midnight black hair to the shocking slate-blue eyes. She’d thought it before, as Harry was growing, but this actually stung.

Of course, simply seeing Nic stung more than she’d thought it would. Or was that more of an ache?

You’re over this guy. He left you.

She nuzzled Harry, then took a deep breath. “There’s someone special here to meet you, Harry,” she said, in a bright, cheerful voice. “Do you want to meet him?”

Harry had been busy telling her about his day—she assumed—in his happy toddler-speak, but now he realized there was another grown-up. He quickly ducked his head, burying his face in her hair.

“Come on, shy guy,” she said, with a laugh, as she put him down on the floor. “Say hi?”

He looked at Nic, tilting his head, studying him. And as she looked over, she had to suppress a laugh. Nic was looking at him the exact same way. They were like bookends. She smiled.

Harry tentatively made his way over, every so often looking over his shoulder at Summer, who nodded encouragingly.

Nic wasn’t making motions towards Harry, though. She felt her heart choke up in her throat. She’d seen this man soothe burn victims and charm leukemia patients. What the hell was going on here? Why couldn’t he loosen up with his own child?

He knelt down, and she saw his eyes sheen with tears for the slightest moment. He reached out—and then quickly pulled his hand away, as if he’d be burned.

Oh. I get it.

He was an amazing doctor, absolutely stellar in his field, but this wasn’t work. This wasn’t a patient. This was his child, one he’d had no idea existed prior to today. And she knew, after countless sleepless nights, after bringing home a baby she had absolutely no idea how to parent, that there was a big difference between taking care of other people’s children, and suddenly having your own.

He’s terrified, she thought with a slight smile. And felt the ice around her heart thaw, ever so slightly.

* * *

My. Son.

There was no question. He was sure DNA evidence would back it up—and he was sure the royal advisers would be apoplectic to get it verified as soon as possible—but as far as Nic was concerned, Summer had not lied. He was looking at his child. The little boy was looking back at him with suspicion.

There were a multitude of things that needed to be handled. His parents had to be notified. Royal succession needed to be established. There were legal ramifications, public relations considerations, a mountain of bureaucratic details to be addressed.

But in this second, seeing the little man toddle over to him hesitantly, it was like staring at a ghost.

Tom looked just like that.

He supposed it was fair to say that Harry looked like Nic himself, when he was a boy. The striking black hair and light blue eye combination ran in his family so strongly that his mother joked about it, pointing out royal portraits from centuries ago of people that looked just like him. But there was only one person that he could think of when looking at his little doppelganger: his brother, who’d been gone eleven years now.

We need blood tests.

He shook his head. Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy was genetic, and it only manifested in boys, but it couldn’t be passed from father to son—only from mothers. Also, Harry’s movements, while still waddling, were far easier and more deliberate than Tom’s had ever been.

Still, how could you be sure? How did you protect a little person like this from all the dangers and illnesses of the world?

He looked over at Summer, feeling helpless.

“You can pick him up, if you want,” she suggested. Her expression was kind, as if she could sense how absolutely lost he felt.

Awkwardly, gingerly, he scooped Harry up by his armpits, the boy letting out a little giggle at the motion. He balanced him on his hip. He ought to be better than this. He worked with kids all the time—it was literally a part of his job. But this?

This was life changing.

“Hi, Harry,” he said, his voice tentative. Should he say something? Admit he was Harry’s dad? This was a toddler. How much was Harry even going to remember, anyway?

God, what was he doing?

A wave of panic washed over him. He barely had time to sleep as it was. He was working long hours at the hospital, double checking every diagnosis, keeping an eye on his patients… and when he wasn’t, he was doing everything he could to improve the kingdom’s medical system. He was used to stumbling into the shower at night, warming up whatever his personal chef had left in the fridge, and then crashing into bed. How was he going to fit connecting with a son in that exhausting mixture?

“Doing okay?” Summer asked gently.

His heart stopped, then double-thumped at her words. He took in her face, that beautiful, sweet face he’d thought of more times than he cared to admit in the past two years. Suddenly the reality of how much he’d missed her hit him like a fist. And now here she was—with his son—still intent on making sure he was all right, despite all his past actions.

The boy started wriggling and grunting, obviously unhappy. He reached for Summer impatiently.

“Uh oh, here’s the wind-up,” Summer said, quickly heading to Nic’s side just as Harry started to wail, fat tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. “He’s still getting used to the time change and the new place. He’s just hungry. I’ll feed him, and then get him down for the night.”

Nic felt guilty at how relieved he felt as he handed his son over. Once in Summer’s arms, Harry calmed down somewhat, babbling something.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you some nummies and your baba,” Summer said.

Nic blinked at the obscure words. “You’re getting him what, now?”

Summer’s smile was quicksilver, the one he remembered, and her eyes were bright. “You’ll be learning all the lingo, don’t worry,” she assured him, then her expression fell a little. “I mean… if you want.”

If you stick around, is what she means.

“I want to,” he said quickly. “I meant it. I want to be a part of Harry’s life.”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s something we’re going to have to discuss.”

“Maybe… maybe we could take the day?” he proposed. “Spend time together. Go through details?”

She grimaced. “Tomorrow’s my first official day on the job. If we’re keeping this quiet… and I really value this job…”

“Of course, of course,” Nic assured her. But he’d take the day. He had too many things to tackle, including… he blinked. “Would you be open to taking Harry over to my parents’ place after work? I know they’d love to meet him. It’ll give us some time to talk, too.”

“Your parents’ place,” Summer repeated. “As in, the king and queen?”

“I’ll send my driver, Felix,” he said. “Don’t worry. The palace isn’t as imposing as it sounds.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Summer muttered, as Harry started to fidget in earnest and his plaintive cries got louder. “Okay, I have to take care of this little guy. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nic.”

Nic nodded, considering heading for the door. Before he did, he leaned in, slowly. He kissed Harry on the top of the head. Then he kissed Summer on the cheek, pulling away quickly. “I’m glad you came,” he said softly. “We’ll talk. Soon.”

He turned and left the room, letting her shut the door behind him. Mechanically, he made his way back to his car, staring blankly out the window as Felix took him home. Out of habit, he checked his phone. He had some texts from the hospital, keeping him updated on patients. He also had a variety of emails from ministers and government officials. Ordinarily, it’d be several hours before he got a chance to sleep. This was his life, and he’d been resigned to it for some time.

But now…

Of all the ways that he could’ve gotten Summer back in his life, this was one he never would have anticipated. And it would’ve been difficult to reconnect with her after his disappearing act two years ago, but now there was a little person in the mix that required love. Nic needed to make sure he did what was best for them.

And what’s best for them?

Was it someone who spent an outrageous amount of time at the hospital—someone who had made a promise to his dead brother? Someone ensuring that his life’s mission, taking care of sick children, was carried out, no matter what cost to his personal life? Was it someone who juggled a career in the medical profession with his duties as the son of a monarch—and all the ceremonial and political weight that carried?

Was that what Summer wanted for Harry?Was that what she wanted for herself?

His heart sank as he wrestled with the hard truth.

What was best for Summer and Harry, he realized, might not mean being an active part of their lives.