Prince of my Panties (Royal Package 2)

“No.” My hands drop to my lap. “I can’t. My father and I don’t have that kind of relationship. Just asking the question would…” I shudder. “I don’t know. It would probably give him a heart attack.” I bite my lip, an idea forming. “But I could call Rafe’s mother. I probably should, anyway, to let her know what’s happening. In case his wife hasn’t had time yet.”

“Sounds like you two have this in hand, and I should get back to work.” The doctor gives a sheepish wave. “Sorry to be the bearer of…uncomfortable tidings. And thank you again for coming in to donate. I hope everything works out.”

“Thank you.” I lift a limp hand before shifting my attention back to Jeffrey, who’s smiling again. “Stop it,” I warn him. “I’m upset.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, schooling his features for a moment before the grin breaks through again.

“Jeffrey!”

“Sorry.” He lifts his hands in surrender. “I can’t help it. Sue me for being glad your ex is out of the picture for good.”

“He was already out of the picture. He’s married with a baby. And he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jeffrey says, finally sobering. He takes my fist in his hands, slowly uncurling each finger. “He still has feelings for you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have married your doppelganger and wouldn’t find it painful to run into you outside of pizza restaurants. I’m sure he loves his wife and child, but…there’s still something in his heart for you—enough of a something that I find it a relief that he’s apparently your blood relative.”

I shake my head. “Even if you’re right, I told you there’s nothing there for me. Not in that way.” I cringe. “What am I going to say to his mother?”

“You’ll sort it out,” he says. “You’ve found your voice. You didn’t stutter in front of the nurse or the doctor, either.”

“I know.” I thread my fingers through his. “Magic? Maybe Kaula unintentionally zapped my stutter out of me?”

“You found the courage to face your biggest fear. I don’t think there’s anything magical about that.” His brow furrows. “But there’s nothing ordinary about it either.” He squeezes my fingers. “I’m proud of you.”

“Wait to be proud of me after I find out I was romantically involved with my secret half-brother and have refrained from killing my father in a fit of rage.”

“Well, madness does run in your family, so you’ll have a sound defense,” he says, and I resume glaring at his smug—but gorgeous—face.

“I’m going to call Regina.” I stand, swaying slightly as the room spins, but recovering quickly as Jeffrey puts an arm around my waist.

“After you drink the orange juice,” he says, putting the container in my hand. “Orange juice first, mystery solving second.”

I take the cool, damp cardboard in hand, tipping it back, downing the contents in a few large gulps my stomach welcomes with a happy gurgle. I press a hand to my middle as I wipe the lingering stickiness from my upper lip. “Oh, wow. I think I’m starving.”

“And I think we should go check out the café down the street. The woman at the front desk said they’re open until midnight and that the pastrami sandwich is something really special.”

“You’re something really special,” I say, drunk on an orange juice sugar rush.

He smiles. “Ditto. Ready to finish this?”

I pull in a deep breath and nod. It does feel like something is coming to an end. Maybe it’s the final page in Rafe’s and my story—a happier ending than we had before. Maybe it’s the last of my innocence going up in smoke as I realize my father might not be the sweet, absent-minded but loyal and well-intentioned man I’ve always believed him to be. Maybe it’s the curse.

Maybe all of the above.

There’s only one way to find out…

29

Jeffrey

Elizabeth and I sit on a wooden bench outside the clinic, beneath a buzzing lamp that’s attracting its fair share of summer insects. I watch them swarm in the cool night air as Lizzy explains the situation to Regina, who has been understandably upset since she answered the phone five minutes ago.

Lizzy’s done a brilliant job of easing her mind, telling her that Rafe seems to be in good hands, his wife, Bethany, is awake and with him, and the doctors are doing everything possible to ensure their continued health and well-being.

She hasn’t gotten to the part about the blood donation yet, but she’s getting close.

I can feel it in the way her grip tightens on my fingers, the pressure increasing until she’s practically cutting off my circulation as she says, “Yes, I just happened to be in the area. And I, um…I happen to have the same blood type as Rafe. B negative, which the doctor here said was extremely rare. And that it probably meant… Well, that it made it likely that Rafe and I were…related somehow?”