Protecting Her Royal Baby

by Beth Cornelison

  She headed for the sofa to lie down, and he caught her arm. “Use my bed while you’re here. It’s quieter back there, and I promise the sheets are clean. I already set up Ben’s bassinet in there, so you’re right beside him.”

  Brianna hesitated. “But...where will you sleep?”

  “I’ll be fine on the couch. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept out here, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Go on. While you’re napping, I’ll start dinner.”

  Brianna gave him an uncertain look before finally nodding and heading back to his bedroom.

  Rubbing his hands together, Hunter went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. His heart sank and his stomach growled when he encountered the frozen tundra of his icebox. He hadn’t been to the grocery store in a couple of weeks, so his options were a small pizza—past its use-by date—margarita mix and a package of freezer-burned hamburger patties. Why hadn’t he thought about groceries while Brianna was shopping for supplies?

  Too distracted by the lacy bras to be thinking straight. He shook his head to clear it. He had to keep his head in the game if he wanted to keep Brianna safe.

  As he stared into his empty freezer deciding what to do about dinner, he thought about the prince’s video message. His Hideness had mentioned a romantic dinner where the prince had wined and dined Brianna with a shrimp dinner. Her favorite food, the message had said. He could do that. He was in Louisiana, after all, where fresh shrimp was abundant.

  He’d have to make that overdue trip to the grocery store and the local seafood market, but he was determined to make a better meal for Brianna than old pizza and questionable hamburgers. In fact, he wanted to surprise her with a sumptuous dinner that would put a smile on her face and a fond memory in her heart that rivaled the prince’s dinner.

  As he gathered his car keys and wallet, he paused. How could he leave her here asleep and alone with the baby while the Meridanian militants were gunning for her and Ben? He couldn’t. But he had a neighbor who was a Lagniappe firefighter whom he trusted implicitly. And Riley Sinclair and his wife owed him a favor after Hunter spent ten days feeding and giving insulin shots to the couple’s diabetic cat while they were on vacation.

  Hunter knocked on his neighbors’ door, and a tall blond man answered. “Hunter! How’s it going, man?”

  “Hi, Riley. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I have a friend staying with me and, uh...her ex-husband is not a nice guy.” Hunter felt bad about lying to Riley, but an explanation of the truth would take too long, and Brianna insisted they keep her situation a secret.

  A dark scowl dented Riley’s forehead. “One of those, eh? The bastard. I’m afraid I’ve had experience with abusive jerks through Ginny’s work at the Women’s Clinic.”

  “Um, yeah. So she’s kinda hiding out at my place, but I have to run out and do an errand. Could you keep an eye on my place and make sure nobody bothers Brianna?”

  “Sure thing. Let me tell Ginny where I’m going, and I’ll watch the game at your place. How about that?”

  Even with Riley on guard duty, Hunter felt compelled to hurry at the store. He grabbed a bottle of wine, a bunch of flowers, two steaks, shrimp, baking potatoes and fresh asparagus. When he got home, he thanked Riley for his help and fired up the hibachi on his back porch. In minutes he had seasoned skewers of shrimp, T-bones and the asparagus grilling, and potatoes in the oven. He set the table with an anxious flutter in his gut. About the time he set the vase of flowers on the table, he stopped and scowled at the table.

  What are you doing, man?

  He was prepping the table for a date. For a romantic evening. For a seduction. The memory of her soft mouth, of the sweet pull of her lips on his, sent a crackling energy through him. Hell, just the thought of her kiss set him on fire. But Brianna was not his date.

  I can’t...

  She had a baby with another man...a prince, for cripes’ sake! How could he compete with that?

  He had no business romancing a woman who was a new mother—especially one in a vulnerable position the way Brianna was. With a disgruntled groan, he took the vase of flowers off the table and moved them to the kitchen. He replaced the wine with two bottles of cold beer in koozies. He was just taking the potatoes out of the oven when he heard the shuffle of bare feet behind him.

  “Wow, something smells good.” Brianna gave him a groggy smile, and Hunter’s breath snagged in his lungs.

  With her blond hair rumbled from sleep and her face free of makeup, Brianna should have looked a wreck. Instead, Hunter thought she looked provocative, as if she’d just been well loved during hot sex. Kicking himself mentally, he pinched the bridge of his nose to erase that image.

  “What are you making?” she asked.

  “I ran out while you were asleep and picked up some steaks and shrimp for us. They’re right about to come off the grill.” He held up his brewski before taking a sip. “I have cold beer if you want that.”

  “No, thank you, I think I better stick to milk while I’m nursing.”

  Hunter gritted his teeth, fighting the impulse to glance at her swollen breasts, and another wave of guilt washed through him for the sensual track of his thoughts. Sure, she’s curvy and gorgeous, but she’s off-limits. She just had a baby. She needs you to protect her, not ravish her.

  She sidled next to him and peeked over his shoulder as he sliced open the foil-wrapped potatoes. “What can I do to help?”

  “Just have a seat.” He nodded to the table he’d set. “I’ve got it all done.”

  “Handsome, kind and you cook. How is it that you’re not married yet? A guy like you should have been scooped up and dragged down the aisle a long time ago.”

  He flashed her a crooked smile. “Well, I guess the right girl just hasn’t come along.” Until now. His stomach swooped when the unbidden addendum whispered in his brain. Clearing his throat, he pulled her chair out for her, then retrieved the shrimp, asparagus and steaks from the hibachi.

  Sorsha appeared at his feet, meowing hungrily and sniffing the air. He blew on one of the shrimp to cool it and slipped it into Sorsha’s bowl. “Just one. And don’t tell Brianna, okay?”

  After he served the potatoes and grilled asparagus and poured her a glass of milk, Hunter joined her at the table. He lifted his beer and tapped it against her glass. “Here’s to baby Ben and his mom.”

  “And to our rescuer and host, Hunter,” she added. “I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few days. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. I think you qualify for sainthood.”

  Hunter almost choked on beer. “I know a lot of people who would disagree with that.”

  “Well, you’ve been a saint to me. Helping me at the accident, staying with me when I was alone and scared, taking me in after my house burned. That’s way more than just being a Good Samaritan.” Brianna took a sip of milk, then stabbed a shrimp and poked it into her mouth.

  He was uncomfortable with her adulation. While he’d have helped anyone in trouble, would he have gone to such extremes, been so dedicated to protecting her, if he didn’t feel this inappropriate attraction to her? Frowning at that thought, he cut his steak and watched her tuck into her dinner. “How is it?”

  “It’s...um, good,” she said, though her face didn’t reflect the same enthusiasm. “Hunter, about what happened earlier...” She bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her brow. “The kiss...”

  His pulse kicked. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, it’s not—”

  They stopped and stared at each other, a suppressed longing hovering between them. Like the dense southern humidity, the sensual pull stole his breath and made him feel feverish.

  She wet her lips, and he muffled a groan.

  “If I weren’t—”

  “I understand. Wrong time. Wrong
circumstances.” He held up a hand and forced a smile. “It won’t happen again.”

  Brianna nodded, but her eyes reflected disappointment. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

  Fisting his free hand in his lap, he shoved down his own regrets and stabbed a bite of steak with more force than needed. They ate in strained silence for a moment before he noticed Brianna picking at her food.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “I made shrimp because Prince Cristoff said it was your favorite in the video.”

  She gave him a small smile. “That was thoughtful.” She stabbed another bite and stared at it with a furrow in her brow. “I wish I could say I remember shrimp being my favorite meal, but...” She ate the shrimp on her fork with a dubious expression on her face. “Somehow it doesn’t seem right. While this tastes pretty good, I just can’t work up a real excitement for it. If it’s my favorite, why can’t I work up any interest in it?”

  She tried a bite of potato next, then a spear of asparagus. “Now, this is good. Delicious,” she said, waving a buttery bite of potato at him.

  Hunter shoved his own food around on his plate. “So is the little prince still asleep?”

  She sent him a frown. “Don’t call him that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” she began, then coughed and paused to take a sip of milk. “Regardless of his bloodline, I’m not sure I want him growing up as a royal, under the pressure of the crown. I want him to have a normal childhood.”

  She coughed again and took another sip of her drink. “I mean, can you imagine a childhood where you knew you had to lead a country when you were older? The pressure that’d put on him?”

  He shrugged. “There’d be perks, too. For both of you. A posh castle to live in, a staff to serve you...”

  She grunted. “Yeah, but look at the turmoil in the country right now. What would it be like to grow up with a bodyguard shadowing you all the time?”

  “Are you saying you’re not going to accept Ben’s right to the throne? Can you abdicate on his behalf?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured any of that out yet. That’s one of the reasons I need to find Chris, talk to him. I never bargained for any of this.” She coughed again and covered her mouth with her napkin, her eyebrows dipping in a scowl. “Excuse me.”

  “Too much pepper?” he asked.

  “No. It all tastes fine. I just have a tickle in my throat, and—” She coughed again, harder this time, then sipped her milk. As if to prove she was fine, Brianna forked another shrimp into her mouth and gave Hunter a bright smile. “Chris doesn’t even know Ben’s been born yet,” she continued. “I need to tell him, and we need to reach an understanding about how and where Ben will be raised.”

  When she coughed again, pressing a hand against her chest, Hunter set his fork down. He noticed her face and hands we’re beginning to swell, and red blotches were appearing on her neck. He narrowed his gaze on her, his concern rising. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She waved him off with a forced smile and a nod. “I’m just a little...short of breath...is all. Probably...because of...the smoke—”

  Alarm prickled his scalp as she coughed harder and began to wheeze. “Brianna?”

  Brianna pushed her chair back and clutched her chest. She wheezed louder, her face growing puffy, then raised wide, frightened eyes to him. He was out of his chair and at her side in a heartbeat.

  “I...can’t breathe,” she rasped.

  “Food allergy,” he groaned. “You’re in anaphylactic shock.”

  Chapter 10

  Brianna reached for him, clearly panicked, and her fingers dug into his arm.

  Adrenaline raced through him, spiking his pulse and pitching in his gut. Adrenaline... Hunter tensed, and a memory tickled his brain.

  Last summer, while he’d been visiting Grant, his brother’s little girl had been stung by a bee and had a similar reaction. Grant had since bought every member of his family an epinephrine injection kit to keep on hand for emergencies with his daughter. Hunter scrambled mentally to remember where he’d stored the EpiPen.

  Brianna’s face was turning red, and her cheeks were swelling with unnatural distortion. He had to hurry.

  “I’ll be right back.” He gave her wrist a quick, reassuring squeeze and disengaged from her fearful grip. As he hurried to his bathroom, he dialed 911 on his cell phone.

  “I need an ambulance!” he barked when the operator picked up. He answered the operator’s questions while he ransacked drawers, cabinet shelves and storage bins overflowing with miscellaneous junk. Nothing. The emergency operator told him to stay on the line while she talked to the EMT dispatch. Pausing from his frantic search, Hunter dragged a hand over his mouth, forcing his brain to slow down. Think. What did the EpiPen package look like? Where had he put it?

  He heard the scrape of Brianna’s chair in the breakfast room, and a fresh wave of worry swamped him. He darted back to the dinner table to check on her.

  Brianna’s face was turning blue, and before he could reach her, she slumped in her seat and slid to the floor. “Brianna!”

  He dropped to his knees and patted her face. “Brianna? Can you hear me? Help’s coming, sweetheart.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, and she wheezed noisily.

  Damn it! Where was that EpiPen? Tossing his cell aside, he ran to his kitchen cabinets and threw them open. He jerked open a drawer where he kept random items such as batteries, aspirin and postage stamps. He rifled through the odds and ends, nausea building inside him as Brianna’s gasps grew fainter. Dammit! He was losing her!

  Finally, he found the clear plastic tube with an orange tip.

  “Thank God!” He snatched it out and rushed back to Brianna. “Hang on, Bri. I found an EpiPen.”

  Hunter scanned the instructions, then shoved her skirt up to her hip, exposing her slim thigh. As directed, he uncapped the outer tube, removed the autoinjector and pulled the safety cap off with his teeth. Spitting the cap out, he met her fading gaze. “Needle stick...”

  With no further preamble, he jabbed the autoinjector against her outer thigh. Brianna’s back bowed off the floor as he held the pen against her leg and counted out ten seconds. Removing the needle from her thigh, Hunter set the injector aside. “Okay, Brianna, you should start feeling better now.”

  He massaged the injection site, trying not to think about how smooth her skin was, how beautiful her legs were...

  Huffing irritation with himself, he refocused and watched her carefully, anxious to see some sign she was responding to the epinephrine. What would he do if the EpiPen didn’t work? What if he’d taken too long getting the antidote in her?

  Sorsha, too, was sniffing and pacing around her mistress, acting agitated by the emergency. He’d heard cats had a sixth sense for trouble. Sorsha clearly knew something was wrong.

  Brianna blinked rapidly, and her strangled gasps loosened as the swelling in her throat eased. Only when she dragged in a ragged lungful of air and her normal color returned to her cheeks did Hunter release the breath he’d been holding. Grasping her hand, he helped her sit up, then pulled her into his arms. Her body shook, both from the dose of epinephrine and fear, he was sure. He stroked her back as he tried to calm his own anxious jitters. “I got ya, Bri. You’re gonna be fine. Crisis averted,” he crooned, as much to reassure himself as her. That had been close. Too close.

  He found his phone and reported in to the emergency operator while Brianna patted Sorsha. Both Sorsha and Brianna seemed calmed by the pet/owner connection.

  “Sounds like a food allergy,” the operator said. “An ambulance is on the way, but I’ll stay on the line until they arrive.”

  When he realized something he’d fed her had caused the allergic reaction, guilt kicked him hard. “So what do you think caus
ed the reaction?” he asked Brianna. “Clearly you were allergic to something you ate.”

  She pulled back, meeting his gaze with teary eyes. “I have no...idea.” Her voice still sounded hoarse and winded.

  “The shrimp would be the obvious choice. Shell food is a pretty common allergen. But if it’s your favorite, that implies you’ve eaten it before with no ill effects.”

  Brianna frowned. “Is it...my favorite?”

  Hunter cocked his head. “That’s what Chris said in the video.”

  “I know, but...” She drew another labored breath and struggled to her feet. Hunter rose as well and supported her when she wobbled as she returned to her chair. “It doesn’t feel right. Especially since...I had this reaction.”

  Setting the phone aside, the line still open to the operator, Hunter pulled a chair close to Brianna and caught her hand in his. “Do you think Chris lied?”

  She hesitated, still struggling to take deep, even breaths. “Lied is...a strong word. I just think...he was wrong.”

  Hunter twisted his mouth as he thought. “Maybe. But why—”

  A pounding at his door interrupted and sent Sorsha scurrying for cover. “Emergency medical team. Anyone there?”

  “Coming!” Hunter hurried to the door and let the EMTs in. “She’s in the breakfast room.” He explained what had happened and how he’d given her the injection as he ushered the emergency team inside. Over the next several minutes, the EMTs gave her an antihistamine, then checked and doublechecked Brianna’s blood pressure, pulse and blood oxygen levels. While the readings weren’t yet back to normal, she showed signs of marked improvement with each measurement. The medics tried to convince her to ride in the ambulance to the hospital, just to be sure she was all right, but she declined. “I’ve had my allotment of ambulance rides for this month, thanks.”