Stolen Kiss From a Prince

by Teresa Carpenter

“Look for a wife,” she finished for him. She didn’t question how he knew she’d been outside his father’s office. At least part of the hidden passages must be under security surveillance. “Good luck with the search.”

  “I’m sorry if you were disturbed by what you heard. But you must know you have been a comfort to me. I was in no mood to discuss our relationship beyond that.”

  His reasonable explanation for what she’d heard did little to breach her anger and hurt. “I believe the word you used was distraction.”

  “Both are true.” He propped up on an elbow, ran a finger down her cheek. She dodged away from his touch. “I told him, forget it, he didn’t get to dictate who I married. I’m thirty-two years old. I will not be told when and whom I shall marry as if I were a callow youth.”

  “How crass of him to think of Sammy at this time.”

  He narrowed brown eyes in ire. “Don’t you start. With handling my responsibilities and Donal’s, plus preparing for the Europol vote, I have no time to think between one meeting and the next. My visits with Sammy have to be scheduled into my day. And you are my hidden vice. I cannot take anything more being heaped on me.”

  Hidden vice.

  She supposed that described their relationship exactly. And it did not have a good ring to it. Partly her fault, she knew. Her insistence on discretion certainly contributed to the hidden part. But acknowledging it didn’t matter. She still felt used. Foolish. Shamed.

  She’d let herself be seduced again.

  Photographed again.

  She couldn’t take any more.

  “Well, you will have one less vice to worry about. I am returning to Pasadonia.”

  “No.” He pushed to his feet, pulled her up, too. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wiped the sweat on his pants. “I’m saying I couldn’t think! While my father was talking I simply reacted, pushing back at him, denying all concept of courtship and marriage. Yet as soon as I left him and turned my thoughts to you, it all clicked into place.”

  “No.” Stomach churning, she backed up.

  “Ja.” He pursued her hands reaching for her. She childishly put hers behind her back as she continued to retreat. He matched her step for step, catching her by the elbows when she tripped on the edge of the mat.

  “Do not,” she entreated.

  “You are the answer, Katrina. You are gentle and caring, smart, funny and sexy. I can talk to you. Best of all Sammy already loves you.”

  Her heart broke a little with each word. It was all about the convenience, all for Sammy. “What about you?”

  He cocked his head, his brows rising in question. “What about me?”

  “Sammy loves me. How do you feel?”

  His expression cleared. He hauled her close, kissed her temple, her mouth. “You know I care about you. Haven’t I demonstrated how much each night in your bed?”

  “You want me.” She wormed her arms between them, seeking distance, needing the ability to think. “That is passion. It will fade.”

  “It hasn’t,” he stated with emphasis. “My need for you has only grown.” A finger on her chin lifted her face to him. She stubbornly refused to look at him. “Katrina, will you marry me?”

  Her gaze flew to his, and she saw amusement lurking in his amber eyes. Oh God. How sad was it that for a moment joy flared through her? Pretty pathetic, as proven by his humor at her expense.

  Oh, she had no doubt he was serious. Lowell’s point, after all, had been to provide Sammy with a mother figure. Who better than she? Hadn’t she put her life on hold for the child? She loved the little guy, wanted the best for him. But this was one sacrifice beyond her.

  “No.” Pretending her heart wasn’t breaking, she pulled away from Julian. “I am done being used by you.”

  “Harsh.” He reached for her hand. She tucked it behind her. “You love Sammy. We’re good together. We can make this work.”

  “We really cannot.”

  “Katrina. I want you for my wife.”

  “No, you want the comfort you find with me. Well, I am done being a diversion for you. You do not get to manipulate my life, turn around and insult me, and then expect me to fall all over myself when you propose. You think you know me and maybe you do, but you do not love me.”

  Sliding to the side, she gained her freedom, stepped away from him with hands fisted. “In a world where everything around you seems out of control you have found the one thing you can apply reason and strategy to solving. Well, my life is not a game and it is not the place for you to flex your leadership muscles.”

  Walking to the bench at the side of the room she grabbed up her towel. When she turned back, he stood in the middle of the mat, his features expressionless.

  “Goodbye Julian.”

  *

  Who did she think she was? Julian snarled to himself. He was a bloody Prince. Women didn’t turn him down. Not now, not ever. His temper no cooler for a cold shower, he stepped out and grabbed a monogrammed towel.

  She should be honored and thrilled by his proposal. Instead she acted as if he’d betrayed her.

  Forgive him if he didn’t see the tragedy in the photo making the papers. His father and Katrina were both overreacting.

  Never a violent man, he’d experienced a rage unlike anything he’d ever known when she told him of how she’d been drugged and humiliated. He’d wanted to hurt someone. Do something. He’d been helpless to defend her.

  So seeing her freed from her self-imposed isolation pleased him enormously.

  Fury flared as he remembered the hurt and dejection on her face. With a sweep of his arm he cleared his bathroom counter. Bottles, soap, crystal dishes went flying across the room.

  He left the disarray and marched to his closet, chose a new suit, a matching tie.

  Damn her for treating his proposal as an insult.

  So he hadn’t been as smooth as he could have been. And maybe he should have chosen a better time. And place. She didn’t have to attack his motives, his character. They were good together, both in bed and out. She loved Sammy. Was it so wrong to think they would make a happy family?

  It all went to show he’d been impulsive in proposing. Far from the premeditation she accused him of, he’d reacted to her pain, allowing emotions to sway him, which was totally unlike him. When he looked at the circumstances logically, he reverted to the arguments he’d given his father.

  He had a country to run. Marriage was a distraction he couldn’t afford. The abrupt end to the love affair only proved a relationship was ill-advised at this time. He was too busy for a proper courtship, let alone marriage.

  Besides, they just buried Donal and Helene. Bad enough Julian must fill his brother’s boots on a political front. It was just wrong to insert Sammy into a new family unit as if his parents were interchangeable.

  She wanted to go? Let her. He had more important things to do than chase after an ungrateful brat.

  Julian shrugged into his jacket, straightened his tie and left his suite. Katrina was right about one thing, it was time to put his considerable talents of reason and strategy to work on his country’s problems.

  *

  Surprisingly, King Lowell seemed sad to see Katrina go. Good manners demanded she bid her host farewell. Giselle gave her a hug and wished her well, but the King showed her to the conversation area of his office and seated her in a Queen Anne Chesterfield armchair.

  “I must thank you for all you’ve done for my family. You made a difficult time more bearable with your kindness and care.”

  “I hope you might let me visit with Sammy sometime,” she asked humbly. “He has truly stolen my heart.”

  “Of course. Though, I do not think Sammy is the only one to steal his way into your affections. I have never seen my son so smitten.” Lowell leaned back in his chair. “Today is the first time he has ever defied me outright.” He smiled and shook a finger at her. “He disagrees with me plenty. But he is a strategist. He steps back, assesses. And always he comes with his arguments of l
ogic and reason. Today he argued from a position of emotion.”

  Katrina fought to make sense of what the monarch said. Had he just confessed to matchmaking? Was that his response to the picture in the paper? She supposed announcing a wedding was imminent would defuse the sordidness of the situation. Running would no doubt acerbate things, but it could not be helped.

  “You play a dangerous game, Your Majesty.”

  “Julian has suffered much over the past month, and he has much yet to deal with in the months ahead. He would benefit greatly from having a strong woman by his side. One thing I have learned over my many years of ruling—there is a time for caution and a time to be bold, and you must be willing to live with the consequences of the choice you make.”

  King Lowell sighed, as if some of those many decisions carried some weight. “I wish Julian to be happy, so I felt the reward was worth the risk, but make no mistake there is a duty he must meet here. Sammy will be well cared for, but there is no replacement for a mother figure.”

  Katrina struggled against a rising confusion. The King’s interference may have precipitated Julian’s proposal, but the son’s sins were all his own.

  She knew the importance of a mother’s presence in a child’s life as she lost her mother at a vulnerable age. Even now she missed her. What she wouldn’t give to talk to her mother for just a few minutes. She loved her father, but sometimes she wondered how different her decisions might have been if she’d had her mother longer.

  “You are right. Sammy is lucky to have you and Giselle, but he deserves to have two loving parental figures.”

  For all Julian’s faults, he had Sammy on his radar, and she had no doubts he would do right by his nephew. How like him to schedule Sammy into his day. His devotion could not be questioned, which meant he would eventually bow to duty and choose a wife.

  She forced the thought of Julian with another woman out of her mind and rose to her feet. Time to go.

  “I have taken up too much of your time. I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for making me welcome.”

  “You are always welcome here. I fully expect to see you again soon. In the meantime I have ordered the royal jet be made ready and a helicopter is standing by to take you to the airport.”

  “But, Your Highness!” she protested in shock. “I cannot—”

  He held up an imperious hand. “For your comfort, yes. But more for my son’s peace of mind. He will not rest easy until he knows you are safely home.”

  *

  Her last stop was the nursery. Sammy cried. “You go bye-bye like Mama.”

  “Shh, little man. Do not cry,” she bade him. “I will still be your friend. I promise to come visit you.” And she would. Soon. While Julian was away.

  “No! Do not go,” he implored, clinging to her, tears staining his cheeks. His distress wrenched at her already-broken heart.

  “I love you, Sammy,” she assured him. “You can always count on me. But the time has come for me to go home to my family.”

  “I don wan’ you to go.” He burrowed his head against her. Knowing there was no way to make him understand, she gave him a final hug and kiss and then handed him over to the waiting Inga.

  “Take good care of him,” she urged the other woman. Swallowing down tears, Katrina made her exit, glad to be going home.

  *

  The helicopter served as a white-knuckle distraction on the flight to the airport in Newcastle, England where the Royal House of Kardana kept their royal jet. Katrina barely noticed the well-appointed amenities surrounding her in the luxury jet. She sank into a soft cream leather armchair, pulled lush brocade drapes over her window and closed her eyes, shutting out the world.

  If only her thoughts were so easy to shut down.

  She kept seeing the cold descend on Julian’s features as she threw his proposal back at him. She hadn’t seen that expression on his face since he accused her of telling Sammy his parents were missing.

  He’d been mistaken about her then, and he was mistaken now if he believed she’d be happy in an emotionless marriage.

  Loving Sammy wasn’t enough. Loving Julian wasn’t enough. She deserved to be loved, too.

  Longing for home, she prayed Jean Claude’s claim was true and that the mortifying pictures taken of her three years ago were well and truly gone. Because more than anything, she wanted her life back.

  “Ms. Vicente.” A calm voice spoke next to her.

  Katrina opened her eyes to see a lovely woman in her forties smiling at her.

  “We’re about to take off. Please buckle up.” She went over a few safety issues, advised the length of the flight then asked if Katrina needed anything.

  She shook her head. The only thing she needed was out of her reach.

  “I’ll check with you in flight,” the woman offered and disappeared.

  After buckling her seat belt, Katrina adjusted the crystal lamp next to her and reached for a magazine in the cherrywood console, determined to keep her mind occupied with something, anything besides Julian.

  She failed, of course. And her spirits were low as she disembarked in Barcelona, the closest international airport to Pasadonia. She’d been informed another helicopter was waiting to take her on the final leg of her journey.

  When she reached the bottom of the jet steps and looked up to see where she went next, she spotted the dignified man with dark red hair tinged with silver at the temples. He stood tall and broad, shoulders squared, hands clasped in front of him.

  Emotions welled up, lodging in her throat. She flew across the tarmac into the waiting man’s arms, felt them close protectively around her. And for that one moment in time everything was okay again.

  “Daddy.”

  *

  “Dear, you’re going to have to call him sometime,” Princess Bernadette advised Katrina a week later.

  “Must I?” Katrina sighed, her gaze following the antics of Bernadette’s twin boys as they pranced about the palace courtyard in the early-morning sun. Not even eight in the morning and Julian had called her twice. “He probably wants to know Sammy’s favorite cereal. He will sort it out without me.”

  “Cereal?” Bernadette’s stepdaughter, Amanda, joined them on the stone benches. A year and a half ago Jean Claude, and the whole country, had been surprised to learn he had a full-grown daughter. “I’m leaving if you’re talking food.” The American rubbed her baby bulge. “My doctor lectured me on my weight yesterday so my breakfast consisted of yogurt this morning.”

  “Pooh.” Bernadette waved off the doctor’s advice. “Those guidelines are based on an average woman’s weight. You are so slim you need the extra calories for the good of the baby.”

  “You think so?” Amanda asked hopefully. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt my baby.”

  “I agree with Bernadette.” Katrina added her support. She’d avoided Amanda because of her notoriety, but Katrina had grown fond of her in the past week. “You are all baby. We can go for a walk after supper if it makes you feel better.”

  Amanda beamed. “It does. Thanks.”

  “Yes, well, sorry to disappoint, but there’s no cereal. We’re talking about the fact Katrina needs to call Julian. He’s called her twice already this morning.”

  “Through his admin,” Katrina clarified. “The man can’t even be bothered to dial his own phone.” That pretty much told her how he felt about her, which didn’t amount to much. His real reason for calling was probably to gloat over the fact no pictures from her past had appeared to haunt her. Thank the good Lord.

  Of course the press made a whole thing of her leaving Kardana, speculating on the relationship between her and Prince Julian and whether their affair was over or if she’d be returning soon. At the same time they exploited her connection to Jean Claude.

  “That is a little punk—” Amanda wrinkled her nose “—even if he is a busy man.”

  “He would get more done if—”

  He stopped fighting his own nature. Katrina barely k
ept from uttering the words. She bit her lip and shook her head at herself, angry because her first response to Amanda’s comment was in defense of Julian.

  “—if he delegated more,” she finished lamely, which was also true. He might not deserve her loyalty, but she would not reveal private details she’d learned during intimate conversations.

  She flushed a little under Amanda’s direct regard. “You’re not ready to talk to him yet,” she declared. “I remember how I felt when I learned Xavier was only spending time with me because he was under orders to keep me close. I felt used and betrayed. I wanted nothing to do with him.”

  “Yes.” Katrina shuddered with a sigh. For the first time she felt someone understood what she was going through.

  “Maman, Amanda,” Devin called, “look at me.” He did a somersault and landed on his back.

  “Me too. Katrina, watch me.” Marco outdid his brother by doing two flips.

  Katrina and the others smiled and clapped. The boys grinned and frolicked some more.

  “It was obvious the two of you were very much in love,” Bernadette said. “Just as it is clear Katrina and Julian have something special between them.” She squeezed Katrina’s hand. “You so deserve to find happiness. Please talk to Julian.”

  “I will think about it.” An easy promise to make as she thought of little else.

  “I’m so happy to hear that,” Bernadette said. “I feel responsible, you know, for insisting you go to Kardana.”

  “Do not.” Katrina pleaded. “I am not sorry I went–”

  “Your Highness.” Bernadette’s assistant approached. “If I might have a word?”

  The Princess stepped away with the woman, viewed something on the tablet she carried. Bernadette’s gaze lifted to meet Katrina’s. Bringing the tablet with her she handed Katrina the digital device.

  “This is why Julian is calling.”

  The screen was fixed on a tabloid site boasting a picture of Katrina and Jean Claude holding hands in the palace portico. The headline read:

  KATRINA RETURNS TO PASADONIA.

  IS SHE EXCHANGING ONE PRINCE FOR ANOTHER?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN