The Making of a Princess (17 page)

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.

You adore a feel-good story!
Harlequin Romance
stories are all about real,
relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men experiencing the intensity, anticipation and
sheer rush of falling of love.

Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romance every month!

Visit
Harlequin.com
to find your next great read.

We like you—why not like us on Facebook:
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Follow us on Twitter:
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books:
HarlequinBlog.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

Harlequin.com/newsletters

CHAPTER ONE

H
E
HAS
A
face
that could frighten small children.

That was the first thing that sprang to Avery Spencer’s mind as
she stared up at the imposing figure of Callum Shepard. With his stubbled face
and long tangle of hair, he didn’t look anything like the clean-cut, charismatic
groomsman she’d met just over a year ago. And definitely not the image of a
doting dad, she thought with dismay. He stood with feet spread wide, one broad
hand splayed on the edge of the door, glowering down at her like she’d committed
a cardinal sin.

Except if anyone was the sinner here, it was him. And she
reminded herself of that fact to keep from being intimidated—as surely that was
his intent. She felt the first tiny trickle of sweat sneak down her spine in the
cloying summer heat. Everyone always said Alberta was a
dry
heat, but that sure wasn’t keeping her shirt from sticking to
her back. It made her shift uncomfortably just at the moment she needed to be in
absolute control. This could go so wrong in so many ways....

“What do you want?” he asked sharply.

Apparently he had also acquired the manners of a boor. How
lovely. For a brief second Avery considered that making this trip might have
been a colossal mistake. But then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
No, it had been the right thing to do. At least after today there would no
longer be any secrets or lies. She wouldn’t spend the rest of her life looking
over her shoulder wondering what would happen if he ever found out about Nell.
Far better to face it head-on and get it over with.

Besides, when it came down to brass tacks, Avery really
believed that Nell deserved to know both parents. She swallowed, battling
against the familiar wave of grief whenever she thought of her sister, Crystal.
In this case, Nell deserved to get to know the one true parent she had left.
Callum.

“You don’t remember me, do you, Mr. Shepard?”

His dark brows pulled together. “Should I?”

That stung. After all, she remembered him, and he’d looked far
different the last time she’d seen him, which was one year, one month
and...what, five days ago? Not that she was counting, mind you. Back then his
hair had been precisely cut, his face clean-shaven and he’d been wearing a suit
with a single white rose in the lapel. Avery’s tongue snuck out and licked
across her dry lips. She knew that because the moment he’d stepped into the
hotel suite she’d looked up and her mouth had gone dry and her palms sweaty.
Callum Shepard had been gorgeous. And when he’d smiled, her stomach had gone all
swirly.

Even when he’d looked right past Avery and his gaze had fallen
on her sister.

Now his hair hung in straggly waves down to his collar, he
looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days and his plaid shirt was only half
tucked into old jeans. And smile? More like permanent scowl. The change was
remarkable—and disheartening considering the circumstances. Not to mention
incredibly intimidating.

Being intimidated wouldn’t suit at all, not if she were to stay
in control of the situation as she planned. “I’m Avery Spencer.” She held out
her hand, determined to meet the task ahead with politeness and a modicum of
grace.

His face stayed blank and his hand stayed beside his thigh. Not
much surprise that it didn’t sound familiar, she supposed. After all, he’d only
had eyes for Crystal that weekend. He probably hadn’t given Avery a second
glance. Why would he?

“It doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.” And still he stood in the
middle of the doorway. No invitation to come in, no nothing. Gatekeeper, lord
and master of his own domain. She lowered her hand again, feeling foolish.

“We met in Niagara Falls last year.”

Ah, she thought with satisfaction. A flicker of
something
passed over his face. Avery swallowed and
added, “At Pete and Elizabeth’s wedding.”

His dark eyes settled on her, so intense it made her want to
fidget. She clenched her fingers together and made herself remain still.

“You were there?” he asked.

If that was an attempt to make her feel insignificant, it
succeeded. Was she so plain that she wasn’t even the least bit noticeable? The
slightest bit memorable? Granted, she’d never been as beautiful as her sister
and whenever they were together, Avery did tend to fade into the background next
to Crystal’s perfect figure and pretty face. But confirmation that he didn’t
remember at all...

Ouch.

“I was in the wedding party,” she explained, wishing she could
just tell him her reason for showing up and get it over with. But she had to
ease into it. Especially since she hadn’t really been afforded so much as a
smile or welcome. This was going to be so much harder than she’d imagined, and
she’d practiced the words in her head over and over on the flight from Toronto
to Edmonton, and from the drive from Edmonton to Cadence Creek. Now those words
didn’t seem to fit the situation at all.

“You were?”

Why did he keep questioning everything she said? Annoyance
flickered and she struggled to tamp it down. She had to keep a lid on her
temper. Calm and rational was the only way to get through this first
meeting.

“I was one of Elizabeth’s bridesmaids. You were Pete’s best
man.” She tried a smile, hoping to soften him a touch. A slight breeze ruffled
her blouse, offering a tiny bit of relief from the blazing heat. There weren’t
even any shade trees to offer respite from the sun, just green and brown fields
surrounding the rather plain farmhouse, broken only by a large barn and a couple
of sheds.

“Yes, I think I can remember that much,” he said, a touch
impatiently.

Avery looked over her shoulder, glancing back at the car she’d
rented at the airport. So far Nell hadn’t made a peep—but that wouldn’t hold out
forever. She was glad now that she’d chosen to leave Nell in the car,
considering Shepard’s convenient amnesia about the weekend in question. But time
was ticking. The window was rolled all the way down, but it was too hot to leave
the baby in the car for more than a few minutes.

She turned back, deciding they were getting nowhere and she
might as well step it up. “You probably don’t remember me because you were
pretty interested in my sister,” she stated plainly. “Crystal.”

Something lit in his eyes. So he did remember. She wasn’t
surprised. It was hard to forget Crystal Spencer once you’d met her. Pain
flickered at the thought. Avery’s sister had been the brightest light in her
life. Her death had been sudden and shocking, only a few days after giving birth
to Nell. Avery had been plunged into darkness, losing her only real family.

But the darkness only lasted for a short time. Nell had become
the new light in her life. Her saving grace.

“I remember your sister,” he said, a touch of caution in his
voice. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re knocking on my door...what did you
say your name was, again?”

“Avery,” she repeated firmly. “My name is Avery.”

“Right. Look, if this is about Crystal, we had an understanding
from the start. It was a weekend thing. No expectations.”

Avery noticed he ran his hand through his hair, though, like he
wasn’t quite as cool about everything as he’d first appeared. And Avery was
quite aware that the terms of the weekend had been set out from the start.
Crystal had made that abundantly plain each time Avery tried to convince her to
try to find Callum. Each time Crystal had flatly refused to budge. She’d been
determined to raise Nell on her own. She didn’t want some
here-today-gone-tomorrow soldier as a father to her child. Especially since they
barely knew each other.

Avery had never judged Crystal for how she’d conceived Nell.
But she had judged her for willingly keeping silent about her pregnancy. Avery
still believed that Callum deserved to know, but she wished she could take back
the things she’d said to her sister.

“Crystal is dead, Mr. Shepard.”

His hand dropped to his side as silence fell around them. Avery
swallowed around the thickness in her throat. Saying the words never got
easier.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble, and
his gaze softened. It was the first sign of humanity she’d glimpsed in him.

“I don’t know how else to put this, so I’m just going to say
it,” she said, taking a deep breath and thinking a quick, silent prayer for
strength. She was going to need it in the hours...in the days...ahead. “Crystal
died shortly after delivering a baby.
Your
baby, Mr.
Shepard. She’s sleeping in the car behind me, and she’s just over four months
old.”

* * *

C
allum
heard the words but they seemed to swim
around in his head, not fitting together right. Crystal...Niagara
Falls...baby.

But they’d been careful...hadn’t they?

There had to be some mistake. He couldn’t be a father. He
remembered Avery, all right. He’d been flat-out lying about that part, not
wanting to give himself away. At the first glimpse of her he’d flashed back to a
memory of the bridesmaids, all lined up in dresses the color of a peacock
feather. She’d been there, all right, an understated beauty next to the flashier
glamour of her sister. At the time he’d thought her fresh and innocent. Perfect.
And intimidating as hell.

But that didn’t mean Avery was telling the whole story. After
all, most scams succeeded because they carried a whiff of truth, just enough to
be credible. Her presence here rattled him, so he held his cards close to his
chest.

“I’m not a father,” he heard himself say. “It’s
impossible.”

“I assure you it’s not,” she repeated. “You did have sex with
my sister that weekend, didn’t you?” She blinked at him innocently. “You’ll
notice I refrain from using the term ‘making love’ as I’m relatively sure love
had nothing to do with it. Considering you’d just met and then never contacted
her again.”

Her reprimand broke through the haze in his mind and he
tightened his fingers around the door. Lord, she was a piece of work.
Righteousness all wrapped up in a tidy little package of uptight
conservatism—from her tailored white trousers to her buttoned-up blouse with the
scarf precisely knotted—just so—around her neck. His gaze dropped to her shoes.
Little heels, not too high, of course. Nothing that smacked of outright sex
appeal for this woman. Oh, he had her pegged, all right. Or at least the part
she was playing.

He certainly didn’t trust her enough yet to know if it was all
an act or not. For all he knew, Crystal was fine and dandy. Or maybe this was
Avery’s kid and she was out to scam him for child support.

For the first time since opening the door, he felt his lips
curve slightly. If she was after bags of money she was barking up the wrong
tree. He’d sunk every dime he had into buying this place and the milk quota that
went along with it. All he wanted from life now was to be left alone. To live
his life on this quiet section of land with the open space and some livestock
for company.

“Is something entertaining?” she asked, pursing her lips.

“Not a bit,” he replied. “In fact, I don’t believe a single
word out of your mouth. I suggest you turn around and head back to where you
came from.”

And if his conscience dug at him a little bit, he would just
damn well ignore it.

He stepped inside and shut the door in her face.

Only when it was latched did he close his eyes. He pressed his
forehead to the door and let out a long, unsteady breath. This was not
happening. It was not. Yes, he’d had a fling over a year ago, but it had been a
bad time for him. Jane had broken things off and given him back the ring,
destroying his hopes for the future. He’d wanted to be anywhere but at a
wedding, pretending to celebrate a happy-ever-after he no longer believed in.
Crystal had been the perfect diversion. But surely Elizabeth would have
mentioned if her maid of honor had ended up pregnant. Women were close like
that, weren’t they?

But then he remembered that after the wedding, Elizabeth had
moved to Quebec with Pete, hundreds of kilometers away from Crystal Spencer.
They’d only been married a few months when Pete—along with Callum and the rest
of their section—had been deployed.

Callum had been the only one of them to make it home. That fact
still made his guts churn.

Through the wood he heard the slam of her car door. She was
going, then. It was just as well. Callum Shepard wasn’t anyone’s father.

The sharp knock vibrated through his forehead and made him
stand straight up. Not going. With a sigh he prepared to let her know in no
uncertain terms that he wasn’t playing her game. He opened the door and...

And stared, swallowing the words sitting on his tongue.

Avery cradled a tiny bundle in her arms, a still-sleeping
bundle, wrapped in a soft yellow knitted blanket with only her head poking out
of the folds. Tiny lips were surrounded by plump cheeks; the tiniest button nose
dotted the middle of her face and dark hair showing just a hint of curl peeked
out from beneath a tiny pink-and-white bonnet.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was hard to keep such a
hard stance when the baby was right there in front of him rather than stashed
away in a car.

“Miss Spencer,” he began, more affected than he cared to admit,
“I know what you’re doing. You’re playing the cute baby card.”

“Is it working?”

Avery’s clear blue eyes actually looked hopeful. Before they’d
only held hostility and derision. She’d judged him for indulging in a brief
affair with her sister. Why would she feel the need to do that if she were lying
about him being the father? She was either telling the truth or she was an
extraordinarily good liar.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending how one looked at it—he
been burned before. Burned badly enough that he didn’t trust himself to know the
difference. No matter how much those extraordinary blue eyes implored him to
believe her.