Accidental Father

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  The auditorium had filled. The lights were dimmed and the concertmaster took his place by the podium to tune the orchestra. Alex watched Julianne with her good posture and gaze on the violinist.

  She obviously had her game face on, Alex mused and that was proof that she was a sensible woman. In time, he hoped she would understand that moving Liam to St. Michel was the best thing for the boy. He wasn’t doing it to hurt her.

  That was the last thing he wanted to do, and tonight after the concert, he intended to make sure she knew that.

  How hard could it be to convince a sensible woman like Julianne?

  Tonight was the first time Julianne had ever played a concert on autopilot. As she walked off stage, she realized she’d never been so relieved for a program to be over.

  She always put her head and heart into her work. But it was difficult tonight after being blindsided by Alex’s announcement at lunch.

  As she’d taken the stage tonight, she’d wondered if Alex had come to the performance or if he’d decided to skip it because they’d not parted on very good terms. Although she didn’t know exactly where his seat was located, she had a general idea, and she hadn’t seen him while the house lights were up. But once the auditorium started filling up, he could’ve easily slipped in unnoticed. If she’d been thinking straight she would’ve had the theater’s security bar him from the building. A good thought in theory, because Alex was so wrapped up in security measures. Alas, it was logistically impossible because she didn’t have the means to cancel his ticket.

  She should’ve stuck to the original plan of leaving his ticket at will call rather than giving it to him earlier today.

  To think at one point she’d actually wanted him there. She’d even imagined he’d been flirting with her, which she now knew was ridiculous.

  Live and learn. She’d conveniently forgotten that daring Marissa was his type, not conventional Julianne.

  She hurried through the backstage area to the green room where Anita was sitting with Liam. The orchestra’s executive director had asked everyone to gather there for a short meeting before the evening’s dismissal.

  Julianne was eager to see her baby before the meeting started. All night, she’d been wrestling with the gut-wrenching fear that Alex might find some way to take Liam while she was on stage. But she had a show to perform. Her colleagues were counting on her.

  She was a professional, so she filed the fear in the same compartment in the back of her mind where she filed Alex’s unlikely claims that a terrorist group might try to harm Liam. Still, her hand shook as she reached for the green room’s door and jerked it open.

  Relief washed over her when she saw her baby sound asleep in his travel crib. Anita sat in a nearby chair.

  “Hi,” she said to Anita. “How was everything?”

  “He was a perfect angel. You all sounded great out there.”

  The scene was so reassuring—so normal—it made everything that had happened earlier that day seem no more substantial than a bad dream she’d just woken from.

  A bad dream that had plagued her all day, even after Julianne had had a chance to take a step back and think about everything Alex said. She’d seriously considered Alex’s assertions. For a moment, she’d let herself go there, to the scary place of Alex’s kidnapping monsters, but she kept coming back to the fact that Marissa hadn’t been afraid that anything would happen to Liam—and Marissa had lived with her baby on the outskirts of hell.

  If Marissa had believed Liam was safe in Afghanistan of all places, unguarded by anyone other than a babysitter, then Julianne had to believe that her sister would’ve thought the safe little life Julianne and Liam led in the States was perfectly fine.

  Knowing that Alex’s brother had married royalty, Marissa hadn’t tried to hide the identity of Liam’s father—good grief, she’d even named Alex on the birth certificate. So it wasn’t as if Liam’s paternity was a big secret—yet Marissa hadn’t felt the need to surround her son with Secret Service agents. Yes, it all made sense now. She’d wanted him to live a normal, ordinary life: the kind of life Julianne was giving him; one where he could run and play and go to school and make friends like any other normal, ordinary child.

  That’s why she’d named Julianne his guardian. She certainly hadn’t asked that the boy be sent to live with his father or his extended royal family.

  Because of Marissa’s choice, Julianne believed that Marissa would’ve wanted for Liam exactly the kind of life Julianne was giving him.

  So she would honor her sister’s wishes.

  That’s why she decided she couldn’t allow Alex to secrete the boy away to St. Michel.

  Even after rationally coming to this conclusion, Julianne still had to ask herself why Alex had been so dramatic about the situation. Was it because he wanted custody of his son? Because he didn’t necessarily want custody, but he didn’t want there to be an ocean between them?

  Or maybe he wanted the fact that he had a child kept on the down low. If he sent Liam to St. Michel he’d be out of the way. No one else would ever know that Alex Lejardin ever had a son. Whether he was in the market for hot girlfriends or a prestigious wife, a baby by another woman could be a hindrance.

  Suddenly Julianne was wondering if that might not have been the reason he abandoned her sister when she was pregnant. A baby didn’t fit in with his plans. Not then, and not now.

  Her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her skirt. Since Liam had come to live with her she always carried her phone with her everywhere—even on stage. Just in case. Thank goodness there had never been any emergencies.

  Alex Lejardin’s name registered on the phone’s display. Julianne sent the call to voice mail. The moment the phone registered the message, she dialed her voice mailbox.

  “Hello, Julianne, it was a fabulous concert this evening. I wanted to come backstage and congratulate you myself, but the restaurant will be a better place to meet. I know you were unhappy with me earlier today, but I also know that you’re a reasonable woman. In that vein, I look forward to having dinner with you tonight so that we can iron out the details. I’ll see you at the Bistro Garnier on the Rue des Capucines. I look forward to having this settled between us.”

  She was debating whether to call him back when Hal Ford, the orchestra’s executive director, called the meeting to order.

  “First, I want to congratulate everyone on a fabulous end to a fabulous tour. Three weeks on the road, and I know that everyone is looking forward to getting home. You should have your tickets and return flight information. If you have any questions, please see me.

  “I can’t say enough good about the performances. We’ve gotten rave reviews throughout Europe. I’m so glad we can leave on such a stellar note. And that brings me to the main reason I’ve gathered everyone together tonight.”

  The room was so silent that you could have heard the proverbial crickets chirping if not for the sudden, weighty shift in air.

  “It gives me great pain to announce that this was the last performance for the Continental Symphony Orchestra.” A collective gasp sounded and murmuring rippled through the room.

  “Unfortunately,” Hal continued, “the sponsor we were negotiating with has decided to take funding in a different direction. That, I’m afraid, leaves us no choice but to disband. I know this must come as a great shock to most of you.”

  Most, but not all.

  A group of astute “old-timers,” who had played together in orchestras of many incarnations, had already caught wind that something like this might happen and had been talking about reorganizing. They’d included Julianne in those talks. Even though they knew something like this was coming down the pike, they’d been hoping to get a little mileage out of the European tour.

  Nothing definite had been put together yet but they’d be able to reorganize in a matter of months. If not for Liam, Julianne would have considered this the exciting start to a new venture. But all she could think, as she handed Liam to Anita and began fo
lding his crib and gathering his gear, was that she was unemployed, perhaps for months. Perhaps even longer.

  And that put her in a very vulnerable position where Alex Lejardin was concerned.

  Chapter Six

  They were leaving tonight. They wouldn’t wait to travel with the group tomorrow. It was a snap decision that came to Julianne as soon as she and Liam left the Opéra Garnier and were in a cab on their way back to the hotel.

  It was only a matter of time before Alex found out that the orchestra had folded and would be able to use it against her. Her sudden unemployment fueled an urgency to get Liam out of Paris and home where he belonged.

  Over the years, she’d learned to always trust her gut, and right now it was screaming for her to take Liam and leave.

  By no means was she planning on cutting Alex out of Liam’s life. She wanted him to have a relationship with his father. But it had become distressingly obvious today that she better be sure of her legal rights before Alex whisked Liam away to a foreign country, where she might not have any legal standing.

  She couldn’t risk never seeing her baby again.

  The first thing she’d do once she got home was hire an attorney. She’d find a way to afford it—even if she had to take a job flipping burgers. It would be honest work. Honest money. And if that’s what it took to support her child, that’s what she’d do until the orchestra reorganized and got back on solid footing. There was always a way.

  She just had to remember that when hope started slipping.

  By the time the cab reached the hotel, Julianne had called the airlines and rebooked Liam and herself on a 3:00 a.m. flight out of Charles de Gaulle. The flight-change fees were hefty, but she couldn’t afford not to do it.

  It was close to 11:00 p.m. by the time they got back to the hotel. She’d have just enough time to get up to the room, pack their things and get to the airport in time for the international fight. The timing would work nicely because Liam was sound asleep. More importantly, Alex would still be waiting at the restaurant for her while she and Liam were en route to de Gaulle. By the time he realized what had happened, she and Liam would be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Safe. Probably closer to home than here.

  As Julianne packed, she went over her mental checklist. She had to let the others know. She couldn’t just not show up at the airport tomorrow when the orchestra members would be expecting her. She decided she’d leave a note at the front desk to be given to Anita upon checkout. In the note, she’d ask Anita to explain to the group that she and Liam had gone on ahead and—

  A knock on the door startled her from her planning, sending volts of fear searing through her. She glanced at Liam, who was sleeping soundly in his port-a-crib, then back at the door.

  Oh, God.

  The walk to the door seemed to take forever. Her limbs were heavy, like the sluggishness in dreams where you’re running from something horrible and your legs can’t carry you away fast enough. She took a deep breath before she looked out the peephole.

  It was worse than she feared. Not only was Alex standing there, he’d brought several men with him.

  Sheer black fear knotted inside her and her heart slammed against her breastbone.

  Dear God, there was no way out.

  Julianne was trying to run.

  Although Alex didn’t want to believe she’d do such a thing, another part of him chastised himself for not anticipating it.

  He wasn’t angry with her. Even though they were on different sides of this battle. He understood. He’d learned from the Secret Service agents stationed at the theater that the orchestra members had received word that the group was officially disbanded.

  She’d panicked, he imagined. Fight or flight. If he’d been in her shoes, he might have fled, too. He was glad they’d gotten here before she’d left.

  As he stood in the dimly lit hotel hall, surrounded by St. Michel Secret Service agents and hotel security, he knocked lightly once again.

  “Julianne, it’s Alex. Please open the door.”

  His request was met with silence.

  Secret Service had flagged her name with the airlines. When she tried to switch flights, officials had been alerted immediately. The agents had been doing their jobs—and damned well.

  “Julianne, hotel security and the Secret Service are here with me. If you won’t open the door, they will unlock it.”

  He shook his head regretfully. This wasn’t the way he wanted things to go. He made sure he kept the knocking to a low rap—loud enough for her to hear it, but civilized enough so that it didn’t scare Liam or cause a scene that attracted onlookers. Luckily, the hotel hallway was empty except for them. For now, at least. There were only twelve rooms on the floor—six across from each other, situated in a wide hallway. He needed this to be resolved as quickly and quietly as possible.

  It had to be frightening enough for her to be in there alone with a small child, let alone knowing there was a bunch of men outside, demanding she open the door. Frankly, he didn’t blame her if she didn’t obey.

  Of course, that would mean that security would unlock it with a master key. “Julianne, please.”

  Alex stared at the deep red carpet, straining his ears, hoping to hear her say something in response, anything to indicate that she was willing to comply.

  The lead hotel security guard, a tall, wiry man, put his hand up to the Bluetooth radio set on his left ear. “Apparently, she called the front desk to ask for security to be sent to her room,” he told them. “They told her that security was already there and asked her to open the door.”

  As if the security guard had uttered the magic words, the hotel room door creaked opened a crack.

  “Alex,” she said, “why are you doing this? You must have some idea of how much it will upset Liam.”

  Julianne still had the security latch on the door so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside without considerable force, although there were ways around that contraption, ways that weren’t cordial or quiet, but ways in, nonetheless.

  Alex had made it clear to the hotel’s security team that this was a nonviolent intervention. It would remain so, unless he instructed otherwise.

  “I’m very sorry,” he said to Julianne, looking her straight in the eye she used to peep out the door crack. And truly he was. These certainly weren’t the conditions under which he’d hoped and imagined he’d find himself in a hotel with this woman. “Why did you decide to leave Paris early? And without telling me?”

  “Because I wanted to avoid exactly this situation.” She said. “How did you find out I was leaving?”

  Even through the slit in the door, he could see the stress in her eyes. “The Secret Service was alerted when you changed your flight. I can only assume that you weren’t aware that Paris authorities recognize St. Michel law. They won’t let you take Liam out of the country.”

  “I want to talk to someone at the U.S. Embassy,” she hissed.

  “Julianne, it won’t matter. My name is on Liam’s birth certificate. I am his father. I want him to stay. I am inviting you to stay with him. I’m not trying to take him away from you. But for this to work out, you have to open the door.”

  She hesitated, and he could see the tears flowing down her cheeks. He had such an urge to reach out and wipe them away, to gather her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder. It killed him to think that he was the cause of those tears. But this stubborn woman had given him no alternative.

  He stepped closer to the door, leaned his head against the jamb so that the only thing separating them was the door’s small opening. Surprisingly, she didn’t move away.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was as quiet. “I know it must look ominous with all these men outside your door, but I won’t let anything bad happen to you. They’re not going to arrest you or harm you or even separate you from Liam. You are welcome to go anywhere he goes. I want you to come with us. I just need you to let me in.”

  He didn’t know where the words came f
rom—some untapped place in his heart he never knew existed. And why? Because she was good for Liam? Because maybe in some way he’d never expected or experienced, she might be good for him, too?

  She was sobbing now, her head against the door frame. He could feel the warmth of her sweet breath on his lips. He let her cry for a moment, until her sobs had subsided. Then he reached through the crack in the door and wiped away a meandering tear.

  “Ask them to leave and I’ll let you in, Alex. Only you.”

  Without hesitation, he turned to his colleagues. “Could you give us a moment?”

  There was some hesitancy, some murmured discussion about whether this was a prudent move. But finally security dispersed, covering all viable exits. After all, she was on the sixth floor. There were no balconies and no fire escapes in the room. The only way she was getting out was through a hotel door. Even though she was stubborn and determined and fiercely protective of Liam, Alex knew Julianne wasn’t stupid.

  When the others had gone and it was just Alex standing by himself, the door clicked shut. He heard the rasp of metal on metal as she released the security latch and opened the door to let him in.

  Chapter Seven

  Trapped.

  That’s how Julianne had felt as Alex and his band of secret service agents had shepherded Liam and her aboard a St. Michel state jet.

  Trapped and transported to the small principality at Alex’s command.

  Like a fox that had been outsmarted, cornered and caught, she’d had no choice but to surrender after Alex had allowed her to contact the U.S. Embassy in Paris.

  After some confusion, a legal representative from the Embassy had confirmed the truth of Alex’s assertions. Since Alex was named Liam’s father on the child’s birth certificate, Alex’s parental rights outranked hers as appointed guardian.

  Alex was the one who had the definitive say as to where Liam would live, and Alex had decreed that he and the boy were going to St. Michel.