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What The Prince Wants. Jules BennettЧитать онлайн книгу.

What The Prince Wants - Jules Bennett


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pouring himself into work and serving the people of the island in an attempt to fill the void.

      Colin wanted to be there fully for his daughter. He wanted to form a bond that was so strong she would know just how much he loved her and that he would always put her needs first. Even before the crown. Which reminded him, his brother was still on the phone.

      “I know you’ve never wanted this title,” Stefan continued. “You do realize that no matter where you live, you’re still a prince, but if I die and you’ve renounced the title, our cousin will assume the position? He’s the last person Galini Isle deserves.”

      Why couldn’t he just have a simple life? A life without the worry of an entire country on his shoulders? A small country, but still.

      Again, it was times like this that he wished Karina were still alive. Colin knew his daughter needed a woman’s guidance through life and he needed assistance with these major decisions.

      “Listen, if an emergency arises, you know I wouldn’t turn my back on you or Galini Isle. But I may have to renounce my title if I think that’s the best decision for Iris.” Colin sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Maybe I am making a mistake, but for now I need the distance. I need to figure out what the best plan is for Iris and for me. I’m all she has right now.”

      Stefan sighed. “If you came home, she’d have many people to love and care for her.”

      “I really need this time. Iris and I don’t need to be surrounded by servants who look at us with pity. That’s not what I want for myself or her.”

      “What about Victoria and me? We miss you guys.”

      Guilt had already eaten away at Colin’s conscience, so Stefan adding another layer was pointless. He missed his brother, but they had their own schedules, their own lives. Years ago the two had been inseparable, often rock climbing or kayaking together. Stefan had stepped up when their father had passed from a heart attack and had scaled back his need for adrenaline rushes.

      “When are you coming to the States for a visit?” Colin asked. “Isn’t it time for Victoria to see her family?”

      Colin’s sister-in-law was from LA and was a member of the prestigious Dane family of Hollywood.

      Stefan chuckled. “I knew you’d say that. Actually we’re not coming for several months, but the annual royal celebration ball is in just over two months and we’d really like you here for that. No pressure, just throwing that out there.”

      Coming to his feet, Colin twisted from his waist in an attempt to loosen his back, which had wanted to tighten up and spasm a bit more lately. He’d slowed down on the therapy he was supposed to be doing at home. After this long he figured the prescribed exercises were a waste of time. Apparently not.

      “I haven’t even thought about the ball,” Colin told his brother.

      “The media will not be allowed inside the palace,” Stefan assured him. “I can always smuggle you in via one of the underground entrances, just like when we were teens.”

      Colin laughed, remembering the numerous times they’d covered for each other so they could sneak out and meet up with their girlfriends at the time.

      “Will you at least think about this?” Stefan asked. Colin knew he wasn’t just referring to the ball. “Think about how hard life will be for you with no family and no one to help you with Iris.”

      Colin’s mind flashed to the woman who had shown up earlier full of confidence and curves. She was helping his daughter, no doubt. It was what she was doing to Colin that had him questioning his judgment.

      “I’ve got everything under control,” Colin assured him. “I need to go check on Iris.”

      He disconnected the call and slid the phone into the pocket of his shorts. Stefan had wanted Colin to think about this decision to leave the royal title behind, as if Colin had thought of anything else. The moment he’d discovered his wife was pregnant he’d done nothing but try to get out of that damn wheelchair in order to live for his child and be the sole supporter and provider—not in the monetary way, but in the fatherly bonding way.

      Growing up with maids, butlers, personal assistants and even people who picked out your daily wardrobe was a bit ridiculous. Just because his family happened to be titled, because they had a certain last name and were wealthy, they had every single material thing at their disposal.

      But money could only do so much. Colin still worried about the pressure and responsibility that came with being a member of the royal family. He knew he was projecting his fears onto his daughter, but he was her main source of stability now and he’d rather be overprotective than to pass along something that would overwhelm her.

      Raking a hand through his hair, Colin opened his door and stepped out into the hallway. The twelve thousand square foot home was large, not as large as the palace by any means, but big enough that he’d had video monitors installed in most rooms so he could watch the feeds from his bedroom. He’d also had sound monitors wired throughout the house so he could hear Iris no matter where he was. There were alarms on the doors and windows, so he definitely would’ve heard had Darcy tried to take Iris from the house. He might be paranoid, but he would never take a chance with the safety of his child.

      Colin was headed for the steps when his back started twitching.

      Damn it. He gripped the railing as he stood on the landing and breathed deeply, waiting for the crippling pain to pass. Total agony he could tolerate, but being in a wheelchair and rendered helpless he could not.

      Immediately following the accident, the doctors had indicated he might not ever be able to walk again, but the moment he’d heard those words he’d made it his mission to prove them wrong. Granted, he was walking, but the spasms in his back and piercing pain in his hip and down through his leg would blast him at the most inopportune times. Another reason he needed a nanny. Back home he had a driver, but he needed someone for that task here, too. Damn it, he hated being dependent on others for help, but he couldn’t risk his daughter’s safety if his pain hit while he was behind the wheel.

      Colin needed to start making use of that home gym he’d had put in before arriving. He couldn’t put off the physical therapy any longer, because he refused to be at the mercy of this injury.

      Once the pain ceased, Colin headed down the steps carefully, in case the sensations returned.

      Just as he reached the last step, squeals carried through the foyer. Colin followed the sound and stopped short when he spotted the carnage that used to be his spotless living room. He’d seen Darcy and Iris on the screen in his bedroom just before Stefan had called, but he sure as hell hadn’t see this disaster.

      “What the—”

      Darcy sat on the floor surrounded by toys. Her hair, which had been pulled back earlier, was now down and in complete disarray, as if her hands—or the hands of a lover—had been running through it. Dry cereal was strewn across his coffee table and had trickled down to the rug beneath. From the looks of things some of the pieces had been trampled on and ground into the carpeting. A sippy cup sat on its side, but, fortunately, no liquid appeared to puddle beneath due to the spill-proof lid. There was one blessing in this chaos.

      While Darcy was smiling, her eyes on his, Iris was playing with the hair on a doll. Doll? That wasn’t one of her dolls. Colin had only shipped her favorite things and this wasn’t part of Iris’s collection.

      “Did we wake you?” Darcy asked, smiling as if this scene were absolutely normal. “We were trying to be quiet.”

      He’d turned the sound down in his bedroom, hoping sleep would come.

      “You didn’t wake me.” He took a cautious step into the room, almost afraid to look for any more destruction. “Is this typically how you watch children? You let them destroy a house?”

      Shoving her hair back, Darcy pulled a band from her wrist and secured the dark mass into a low, messy style. As she came to her feet,


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