Proof of Their Sin

And while she’d been more thrilled than shocked, she’d been stunned all the same.

She didn’t belong in his circle. She was not rich, famous, or powerful, but Gillian’s father still liked to see her when he was in town. That inevitably meant going to some function or other on his arm. He couldn’t dedicate time simply to visiting her, so he included Gillian in his schedule.

As the famous news correspondent’s unremarkable daughter, Gillian had attended more than her fair share of diplomatic and high society events.

No one had been more shocked than she when it turned out that Crown Prince Maksim Yurkovich of Volyarus seemed to like unremarkable. Several comments made by him, and a couple by his mother on the few occasions Gillian had met the queen, had made it clear that royalty did not look for notoriety when choosing a mate.

Though regardless, she would have thought Maks would be looking for someone with more personal cache than Gillian to bring into the royal family. Apparently Volyarussians did not have the same requirements for pedigree in a mate than other royal families of the world.

And there couldn’t be anyone less notorious than the small-town girl from Alaska who made her living as what her father termed a “chocolate-box” photographer.

There was nothing objectionable, or even questionable in Gillian’s past. Her parents hadn’t stayed together and neither had been interested in raising her, but they’d entered into a short businesslike marriage prior to her birth and hadn’t filed for divorce until a year after.

“I may as well hang up now, your mind is clearly in the clouds again, child,” Nana said over the phone line.

Gillian shoved her blond hair behind her ear and adjusted the phone. “I’m sorry, Nana. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know. You get to thinking about Maks and the rest of your brain shuts off, especially the part attached to your ears.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Her grandmother’s snort said the older woman did not agree. “You make that boy tell you that he loves you before you agree to be his wife.”#p#????#e#

“He’s hardly a boy, Nana.” Gillian had made the same protest before, but to little effect.

“I’m seventy-five years old, Gillian. He’s a boy to me.”

“Some people never say those words,” Gillian pointed out, returning to the subject she knew her grandmother considered most important.

“Some people have less sense than God gave a gnat then.”

“Rich doesn’t say it, but he loves me.” Even as she said the words, Gillian knew she wasn’t actually certain that they were true.

Her father wasn’t an affectionate or demonstrative man. Rich Harris had made little more than a moderate effort to be part of her life, but he’d also been the one to make sure she had two people to raise her who loved and cared for her. The two dear people who had raised him.

“Your daddy is an idiot, no matter what those Pulitzer Prize people say.”

Gillian laughed, knowing her grandmother didn’t mean the words. Nana was hugely proud of her world famous son and still held out the hope that one day he would take on the role of Gillian’s father.

That ship had sailed a long time ago, but Gillian would never say so to the older woman.

She owed too much to Nana to hurt her in any way. “Don’t you let him hear you say that. He’ll take back the motor home.”

“I’d like to see him try. I still have a wooden spoon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Gillian couldn’t help more laughter at that. Nana’d had the same fabled wooden spoon all the years of her growing up, too, but her backside had never felt the flat side of it.

“I swear, I don’t know what makes that boy of mine think like he does.”

“He’s fine, Nana. His dreams didn’t include having a family. That doesn’t make him bad.”

“Well, he has a daughter, whether he dreamed you up or not.”

“I know.” She’d spent her whole life knowing that while she had not been precisely wanted, both her parents had given her the gift of life and that was as far as the sacrifice was ever going to go.

“I don’t like to see you settling,” Nana said in that tone Gillian hated.

It was the I-worry-about-you-child-I-really-do tone and it came five minutes before Nana decided she needed to give up whatever adventure she and Papa were on to fly back to Seattle and check in on her granddaughter.

“I’m fine, Nana. Better than fine.” She was on the verge of getting engaged to the man she loved with her whole heart. “I don’t need the words.”