Stolen Kiss From a Prince

by Teresa Carpenter

  She stood quietly, but Julian was obviously antsy.

  “Down,” Sammy demanded and wiggled in a bid to get his way.

  “Not yet.” She tightened her arms around him, but he was strong and she nearly lost her grip on him.

  “I’ll take him.” Julian cautiously lifted the boy into his arms. He met her gaze briefly. “Thank you for your patience and cooperation with the security. I know it can be trying.”

  “I am used to it.” She shrugged. “I sometimes travel around town with the twins.” Over the past year she’d ventured out twice.

  “It is a pain,” he declared, his opinion punctuated by the tense line of his shoulders.

  “A necessary evil for your safety. For Sammy’s safety,” she calmly pointed out. Her closeness to the royal couple and their twins made her happy for the protection that kept them safe. “And because I am with you, for mine.”

  “Samson,” he corrected her. “Unfortunately many people do not grasp that notion. Ha.” He gave a harsh laugh, a rueful shake of his head. “This is a change. Usually it is I explaining the need for caution.”

  She eyed him, reluctant to be sympathetic when she was annoyed with him for ignoring her. But he had taken Sammy, who still chattered and wiggled in a bid for freedom. And generally she wasn’t one to hold a grudge.

  “I suppose that can be trying, as well.”

  “I’ll tell you, it can be a real damper on a date.” Long-felt aggravation rang through the words.

  Her turn to laugh. “Poor baby.”

  He froze and looked down his nose at her. “You are impertinent, mademoiselle.”

  She flushed and looked away. “I am sorry.”

  “Your Highness,” Neil, Julian’s head of security, turned to them, “the space is secure.”

  “Thank you.” The lift of a dark eyebrow let her know she’d been saved by the announcement. “What is your security plan?”

  “A man at both entrances.” The trim, dark-haired man responded. “St. James will be in the computer room, and I’ll be roving. The trip to Lyon is expected to take four hours.”

  Julian nodded. “And the weather?”

  “There’s been no change. Reports indicate the storm is lessening, but the airport at Lyon is still closed.”

  “Keep me apprised if anything changes.”

  “Very good, sir.” Neil bowed briefly and moved down the corridor.

  Julian turned back to Katrina. “Mademoiselle, would you care to give us a tour?”

  “My pleasure,” she lied. Just a tiny fib actually. What she’d really like was to take Sammy into one of the guest rooms and sleep. Instead she followed in Neil’s wake down the narrow corridor running along the left side of the train from the back where they boarded.

  “The car has three guest rooms.” She opened the first door on the right and showed him a small room with a double bed, the decor a sparse elegance equal to a high-end hotel. The second door revealed a room much like the first, in reverse order with twin beds.

  “These two rooms share a bath with a full shower. With your permission, I’ll sleep with Sammy in here.” He nodded. Good. She had the nursery monitor with her, but she preferred to stay close to the child. Unfortunately, it also put her closer to Julian. Not a problem, she vowed. It wasn’t as if there was the least likelihood he’d make a move on her.

  His appalled reaction to her kiss this morning proved she was safe from him.

  “The master suite is the next door down. You have a private attached bath. The entire train car is bulletproof, including all the windows, plus the master bedroom acts as a panic room should the car be breached. I am sure Neil will go over all the specifics with you.”

  She waved him ahead, and he stepped into an elegant oasis decorated in cream, tan and bronze. This room included a small seating area and a bar with a mini refrigerator. Next came the lounge with plenty of comfortable seating in dark leather followed by a half bath and the crew’s quarters.

  Upstairs, she showed him the domed observation lounge with big-screen TV, the formal dining room, kitchen, tiny computer room and crew’s lounge. As with the guest rooms and lounge below, the furnishings here were tasteful and soothing. Plush silver-gray carpet cushioned every step, soft hunter green velvet covered the couch and chairs, while dark woods, fine crystal and a stunning black marble table added to the richness of the rooms.

  “Quite the setup.” Julian let Sammy down in the observation lounge and settled into an armchair. “Much more comfortable than the deluxe sleeper car I traveled in to Pasadonia.”

  “Indeed,” Katrina agreed. “Princess Bernadette especially prefers traveling by train when they have the twins with them. There are gates attached to the top and bottom of the staircases.”

  Sammy ran to the large curved sofa fitted into the rear point of the train. He clamored up, plopped right in the middle and gave them a wide grin.

  She caught her breath and exchanged a hopeful glance with Julian. The smile was the first she’d seen Sammy give.

  “You like it, too, little one.” Responding to his joy, she sat next to him, lightly threaded her fingers through his hair. “Or is it the freedom you like? You have been very good today.”

  The train began to move, slowly pulling away from the palace yard. At the motion Sammy’s eyes grew large, and he looked up at Katrina for reassurance.

  “It is okay.” She smiled. “This is a train. It is like a house on wheels. We are moving—turn around and you can see.”

  The boy climbed to his knees then stood and looked out the back. She lifted up a hand to protect him from a fall. He pointed at the palace staff seeing the train off. Several waved. Sammy waved back. “Bye-bye.”

  “That is correct...we are going bye-bye. We have started our journey.” She thought of adding their final destination of home, but didn’t want to remind him of his parents when he was in such a good mood.

  Suddenly Julian settled onto the green velvet on the other side of Sammy and turned to face her. After he had ignored her for most of the morning, his scrutiny unnerved her. Protocol prevented her from questioning him. Instead she kept her focus on Sammy, playing point and name until the boy got bored of the game and slid off the couch to run around the open space of the lounge.

  “I understand I owe you another apology,” Julian stated gruffly.

  “Oh?” Katrina wondered for what.

  Several items sprang to mind, rudeness certainly, and rushing her—he’d given her a whole hour to pack and say her goodbyes. This, after Princess Bernadette practically forced him to take Katrina with him. That had been an awkward scene. She had been no happier about the idea than he was, but Bernadette wouldn’t be dissuaded and Katrina felt obligated to support her Princess.

  “Yes. Bernadette explained it was Tessa who told Sam—” He stopped and eyed Sammy before continuing. “That Tessa was responsible for Samson’s distress. I blamed you when I shouldn’t have. You have my apology.”

  Her brows popped into her bangs before she quickly got her disbelief under control. “Um, well. She was in a state of distress herself,” Katrina explained. “I believe she and Helene were—are friends.”

  “There is no excuse for her behavior.” There was no give in his response. “She is the nanny of a royal Prince. His welfare needs to come before any other consideration.”

  “I agree. The child’s needs should always come first. Sammy, stop. Stay in this end of the room.” She scooted to the edge of the couch, ready to hop up if Sammy went any farther. “But shock can make us do stupid stuff.”

  He surprised her by sweeping a thumb over her cheek. “Very generous of you, considering you have taken the brunt of her thoughtlessness.”

  His touch threw her more than his stare. Obviously he meant to denote the shadows under her eyes. She’d be mortified if she could think beyond the sensation of his caress. She blinked up at him, striving to recall the topic of conversation. Oh yes, his apology.

  “Sammy is the one who has suf
fered. Though we do not truly know how much he understands. He is not yet three. He probably does not fully comprehend what missing means.”

  “He’s a bright boy. I’ve never heard reports of him acting up in this manner.” Julian turned his attention to Sammy, who was climbing into a club chair and pounding on the table. “He knows something is wrong.”

  “Yes,” Katrina agreed, relieved and yet curiously disappointed to lose Julian’s regard. “I think he is reacting to the tension in those around him. He has been different since you arrived. This is the first time he has played, the first time he has smiled. You are familiar, someone from home. He feels more secure.”

  “He knew Tessa.”

  “She was fairly new as his nanny, was she not?” At least that’s what Katrina had heard.

  He nodded, his features etched in grim lines. “She assumed the role a couple of months ago. A farce if you ask me. The woman has no child care training.”

  “But he is a Prince!” she blurted, shocked by the revelation. Tessa might be Helene’s friend, but Sammy was the son of a royal. He had many things to learn beyond the average child. More important, he must be protected at all costs. True, he had his own security detail, but beyond being proficient in protocol and decorum, his nanny should be able to defend him.

  Yet even as she protested, she was not genuinely surprised. The other woman always struck Katrina as a tad uppity, as if handling potty duty was beneath her. But she tried not to judge. There were times when she wasn’t too happy about doing potty duty, either.

  “I am glad you understand,” Julian stated. “I was wrong to blame you without knowing all the facts. That...is not like me.”

  “You have much to occupy you.” With the apology, she found she could be gracious.

  “Again you show your generous nature.” He looked like he’d like to say more, but decided against it. His words turned quite formal as he continued. “I do not deserve your goodwill, but I will accept it. Along with my apology, please know you have my gratitude. Samson is lucky you were there to help him.”

  “It has been my honor.” This time she spoke the truth. She would assist any child in distress, and these circumstances went beyond the norm. In the midst of crisis she was happy to do her part. Plus Samson was special. He was a Royal Prince, a future leader of the world. Her actions reflected on her country and her Prince. It made her proud to have Prince Julian acknowledge she did well.

  Suddenly lights started to flash through the room in a strobelike effect. Katrina jumped to her feet and looked out the window. The train had reached the Pasadonia Station. Unfortunately, the press had arrived before them.

  Sammy came running and buried his face against her knees.

  “Paparazzi,” Julian snarled. “Vultures, all of them. Take Samson below.”

  She had already grabbed Sammy up and headed for the stairs. Neil met her at the top. “It is just the press,” she told him. “I am taking him to the twin guest room. Can you make sure the blinds have been pulled down?”

  “No.” Julian spoke over her shoulder. “Use the master suite for him.”

  Confused, she looked up at him. “But—”

  “He is the future of Kardana,” he stated simply. “He requires the extra security the room provides.”

  Neil nodded an acknowledgment of the command and led the way below. He went ahead of Katrina into the master suite and made sure the window shades had been secured. While Neil collected Sammy’s and her luggage, she took the toddler to the bathroom. Back in the main room Neil had returned. Julian had joined him.

  The two men managed to shrink the room considerably with their sheer size. Their sheer presence. Yet they were nothing alike—one was a trained killer, the other a world leader. One lived life in the shadows, the other the limelight. Both were used to giving orders, but only one wielded power with the mere lift of an eyebrow.

  And no one would confuse who was who.

  Certainly not Katrina, who found it difficult to take her eyes off Julian. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, just inside the door. His amber gaze ran over her before he switched his attention to his head of security.

  Feeling his gaze like a touch, she shivered. Luckily he’d turned before she gave herself away. She blamed the kiss. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t forget the feel of his mouth on hers.

  Did his lingering gaze mean he was remembering, too?

  Putting the thought aside, she set Sammy down in the middle of the bed and moved forward to join the men.

  Neil quickly took her and Julian through the changing of the master suite into a panic room. She carefully kept her distance during the process. She really needed to get her inappropriate attraction under control. When the lesson ended, the train was beginning to pull from the station leaving the paparazzi behind.

  “Report,” Neil ordered, obviously speaking to someone on the other end of his headset. “Beale, handle it,” he directed, and then advised Julian, “A couple of men on the back stoop of the train, my lord. Most likely press. St. James reports no other suspicious activity. Please stay here while I assist Beale then make a sweep of the car just to be sure we have no other surprises.”

  Julian acknowledged his acceptance with a slight incline of his head. With a bow Neil exited the room.

  “Relax, Miss Vicente. Knowing the mechanics of activating the panic room is just a precaution. We must be ever vigilant.”

  That was a relief. But the train picked up speed, drawing a question from Katrina. “How do you suppose Beale will handle it?”

  Julian shrugged. “I expect he’ll ask the unwelcome guests to disembark.”

  “But these trains get up to a speed of two hundred kilometers an hour.” Her heart raced at the notion of debarking at such a speed.

  “Occupational hazard. Something they should have considered before attempting to catch a ride.”

  “Your Highness!” At her shocked exclamation he gave her a tight smile.

  “Do you imagine Beale throwing them from the train? No. If they refuse to leave while it is still safe, they will be restrained on the stoop and suffer a long, cold ride to the next station, where they will be charged for trespassing. We are not the monsters they are, Katrina.”

  “Of course not.” She flushed because she had envisioned the exact scenario he outlined. To hide her reaction she strode over to the seating area and tried for a bit of grace as she sat.

  Being around the palace since childhood, she well knew the press was anything but harmless. Rodrigo certainly proved just how far a paparazzo would go.

  There was big profit in getting that money shot, a million euros or more, depending on how much skin or how scandalous the photo. That was the very reason she limited her assignments outside the palace. She more than most knew just how far a paparazzo would go for that money shot.

  And this was not just any story. A missing Prince, an orphaned heir to the throne, these were stories of a lifetime.

  Her nails dug grooves into the soft leather of her chair. Oh God, she should never have left the palace.

  “Make no mistake.” Julian warned her. “I have no pity for the paparazzi. They are a relentless plague on society. Those men seek to prey on Samson’s vulnerability, his moment of tragedy. I will protect him at all costs.”

  “I can see that.” He’d already demonstrated the truth of his claim by putting Sammy’s comfort and safety before his own on more than one occasion. Quite heroic of him actually.

  Right. Her admiration for him was so not helping in her effort to fight her surprising attraction for the man.

  “A single picture of Samson during this trip would set a photographer up for life. I will not allow him to be used in such a manner. Do not disappoint me in this matter, Katrina.”

  She glanced at Sammy, who’d fallen asleep on the big bed. So innocent, so dependent, so important. “You can trust him with me.”

  “I do.” For a moment his brown gaze softened. “Or you would not be here. Goddaughte
r of Jean Claude or not.” He gestured toward the bed. “Rest while you can.”

  *

  Julian returned to the domed lounge, chose a large club chair. He leaned back and discovered the chair reclined. Thank you, Jean Claude. After a while Julian dozed but came awake when the train slowed. Neil appeared to advise him they were pulling into their first stop and they would be delayed while their car was transferred to a different line.

  “St. James is posted outside Master Samson’s room. I’ll be escorting the trespassers inside, turning them over to the proper authorities.” With Samson tucked safely away and their equipment confiscated, the men would be led through the car and delivered into the care of the French Transport Police.

  Julian nodded his agreement. Once alone, he tried to make a few calls but was hindered by the limited mobile service. The third time his call was dropped he gave up and switched to text. He let his father know they were en route and gave his assistant instructions on several issues, including making arrangements for Katrina to have a room near Samson and the nursery. Once that was done, he used a digital remote to put a rugby game on. Unfortunately a bad glare on the screen sent him hunting up the control for the blinds.

  “My lord.” A middle-aged porter appeared. “May I be of assistance?”

  Julian indicated the glare on the television. “I wish to close some of the blinds. Where are the controls?”

  “They are here, sir.” He opened a hidden panel on the half wall between the lounge and dining room. “Or you may use the controls on the remote.” The porter approached and bowed slightly. “If I may, sir?”

  He proceeded to show Julian what the digital remote controlled, which was everything from the telly and blinds, to the climate and fireplace. He could even activate the gate at the top of the stairs and summon staff, all without leaving his seat.

  “Would you care for something to eat?” the porter asked.

  “Not at this time.” Julian thanked and dismissed the man.