Stolen Kiss From a Prince (10 page)

He checked on Sammy. He sat quietly with Katrina’s hand resting over his on his leg. The unity between them was a beautiful thing. Julian reached out and placed his hand over hers and Sammy’s. Immediately the peace of that unity swelled to include him.

He gave the eulogy, a task more difficult than he’d anticipated. When he regained his seat, Sammy looked at him with solemn eyes and climbed into his arms to rest his head on Julian’s shoulder. He welcomed the human contact. The boy had been remarkably well behaved. Julian credited Katrina’s presence for that.

Even as he had the thought, she reached over and patted the boy on the back. Sammy sighed and closed his eyes. Julian expected he’d soon fall asleep. To show his thanks for her support he covered her hand with his, lacing their fingers.

She frowned and tried to pull free. He held firm as he turned his attention to the Minister of Defense, who was praising Donal’s military career. Helene’s father and a friend honored her memory with a few words. And then the service ended and it was time to move to the cemetery.

When he stood, Julian retained hold of Katrina’s hand. She immediately shifted so her body hid the contact and discreetly, yet firmly, yanked her hand from his.

“Behave,” she whispered.

He turned and passed a sleeping Sammy to her. “We have nothing to hide.”

“Julian—I mean, Your Highness, please stop.”

“My dove—” he ran his hand over Sammy’s back, but he held her gaze captive “—if you call me Your Highness again, I will kiss you in front of everyone here. I don’t do pretense well. Today is not the day for me to try.”

“I prefer not to draw attention,” she reminded him, insistent in her gentle way.

“Just so. I must attend my role as pallbearer.” With a squeeze of her elbow he stepped out of the pew and took his place at the head of his brother’s casket.
Soon, brother
, he thought,
you will be at rest. Be at peace. I will watch over Samson
.

*

“My dear Katrina.” At the reception Princess Bernadette flowed up and kissed Katrina on the cheek. “You do us proud. And this little one, what a good boy you are.” She caressed Sammy’s cheek.

“Bernadette.” Katrina relaxed for the first time in a very tense day. “I did not know you were coming.”

“Of course we came. Donal and Helene were friends.” She gracefully sank into a chair against the wall and Katrina took the seat next to her.

A waiter immediately appeared with a tray of wine. Bernadette took a glass but Katrina shook her head. Sammy squirmed around in her lap and rested his head on her chest. She looked down to see his eyes closing.

“But I thought Jean Claude was scheduled to visit Canada.”

“For a presentation on health care,” Bernadette confirmed. “He delayed the trip to attend the funeral, but he speaks tomorrow. We will have to leave soon. I have only a few minutes before he comes for me. Tell me how you are doing.”

Terrible. I have fallen in love with my employer, a royal Prince and future world leader
. Katrina longed to share her dilemma with her friend and mentor, but now was not the time. Plus Bernadette would encourage her to pursue her feelings when clearly Katrina could not risk the association.

“The Ettenburls have been very kind and welcoming.”

“Julian has sung your praises to Jean Claude.” Bernadette eyed Katrina over her wineglass. “He sounds quite smitten.”

“Do not tease.”

“I am not. Believe me, dear, it is not like Julian to enthuse over much.”

Katrina’s heart rejoiced at the other woman’s words, but she remembered the need for decorum, which meant keeping her relationship with the Prince strictly professional. “He is simply grateful for my help with Sammy.”

Bernadette’s alert green gaze swept over the room. “I’m glad we are not staying long. Tragedy is a great equalizer, but too many world leaders in one place is a dangerous temptation.”

“Julian has great respect for Jean Claude. I know he will appreciate that you came.”

“Hmm. Julian.” The sparkling emerald gaze landed on her face. “You are not as indifferent as you would like me to believe.”

Indifferent? No. In trouble, oh yeah. She was in way over her head. She couldn’t breathe without thinking of the stolen moments in her bed yesterday. Sitting beside him in church and at the cemetery, smelling the yummy scent of man and soap, knowing he was hurting and being unable to touch him had been torture.

She eyed his broad-shouldered frame across the room. Expression somber, he nodded and talked, accepted condolences and moved from person to person, group to group. No one would guess how he hated this. How he yearned for it all to be over.

“You love him,” Bernadette said softly.

Katrina cringed. “Am I so easy to read?”

“Yes.” Bernadette leaned close. “It is part of your charm. I am so happy for you.”

“Nothing can come of it.” Katrina shook her head.

“He does not return your affections?”

“Yes.” Flustered, she thought first of his passion, but he had not talked of his feelings. “No. I do not know. That is not the point.”

“I would argue that is entirely the point. I know you, Katrina. This is about the pictures. You must put your fears aside. The pictures have been destroyed.”

She bowed her head. “I know.”

“But you do not believe. Do you think Jean Claude would lie to you about such a thing? That I would?”

“No.” She lifted contrite eyes to her friend’s face. “Of course not. But I fear there is no way of knowing for sure.”

“There is faith. There is trusting in those who love you.”

“It is for them I fear. I will not be responsible for bringing shame to my family again. I will most assuredly not add another royal family to the list of victims.”

“You are not responsible. No one blames you. All your family wants is for you to be happy. You were always so fearless. Grab some of that old energy and go after what you want.”

“Bernadette!” Katrina protested.

“You need a man you can trust, and he needs some warmth in his life.” Bernadette bumped shoulders with Katrina. “It is the perfect match.”

“I am here to help. Not for romance.”

“My dear—” Bernadette ran her hand over the sleeping boy’s fine hair “—romance chooses its own time.”

*

Katrina smothered a yawn as she circled the buffet table. Today started early and dragged minute by millisecond. Sammy, bless him, had been a perfect angel. Of course he didn’t understand much of what went on, only that they were saying goodbye to his parents. Even at such a tender age, he knew his role as Prince demanded a stoic public image.

She’d taken him to his room after saying goodbye to Bernadette and Jean Claude.

“Where is Sammy?” Julian appeared beside her.

“There you are,” she said. “I was looking for you. Have you had anything to eat?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t had two seconds to myself. Samson?”

“I just came from putting him to bed. I will not lie. I was tempted to escape to my room.” She didn’t admit he was the reason she’d braved the crowd. He looked great in his designer suit, so regal. But he’d lost weight in the past week, and she saw the fatigue he tried hard to disguise.

“No one would blame you.” He curled a lock of her hair around his index finger. “I sent GiGi off to her rooms. Father insists on staying to the end. He’s seated at the head of the room with Grimes stationed nearby. He’ll advise me if my father begins to flag.”

“It sounds like you have taken care of everyone but yourself.” She handed him her plate and reached for a new one to fill up for her. And to put her out of his reach.

He’d become very touchy-feely today. His behavior threw her. She relished the intimacy at the same time she must reject it. Every touch, every nearness was noted. By the family, by visiting friends and dignitaries, by the staff. And worst of all, by the few members of the press admitted to the reception.

His attention seriously damaged her efforts to stay in the background.

“I’m not hungry.” He belied his claim by eating a piece of ham. “I just want this day to be over.”

“You gave a beautiful eulogy,
très
heartfelt.”

“It was not difficult. My brother was a great man.” He nodded at the British Prime Minister as he directed her with a hand in the small of her back to a table for two just outside the open terrace doors.

“Perhaps we should join another table,” she suggested pointedly.

“No.” He pulled out a chair for her.

“You are drawing undo attention to us.”

“I wish for a few minutes’ peace.” She heard the weariness in his voice. “A few minutes when I do not have to make conversation, or accept condolences, or dodge ill-disguised political posturing. I can only get that with you. Is that so much to ask?”

Her lower lip suffered her indecision. This was not a good idea. But how could she deny him when she saw his need. When she longed to spend time with him, too.

“I suppose a few minutes could not hurt.” She slipped onto the chair he held. “We are out of the way out here.” Dusk loomed on the horizon washing the terrace in shadows. The scent of roses drifted on the cool spring air.

“Exactly so.” His seat put him deep in a corner, somewhat obscuring his features.

She relaxed a little. “I will stay as long as you eat.”

He sighed. “You drive a hard bargain.” But he reached for his fork. The first two bites were to appease her, but then he really dug in.

With a small smile she picked up her fork. The quiet of the patio soothed her disquiet. Breakfast had been a long time ago, and she’d been too nervous to eat much. The food was delicious. The ham had a savory smokiness complimented by the fresh fruit and salad she tried, but it was the chocolate trifle that had her humming her approval.

“You must try this.” She held out a bite, and he leaned forward to accept the decadent offering.

“Cook’s trifle.” He declared. “One of my favorites.”

She pushed her plate into the middle of the table and they shared the remainder of the dessert.

“Thank you.” He laid his hand over hers on the table. “I needed this.”

Yes, he had. But a half hour of semi privacy merely teased. Seeing him relax only to tense whenever anyone came close to the terrace door or stepped out onto the terrace further along made her feel guilty for trying to deny him.

“You need more time.” She flipped her hand under his. “After this is over, you should escape for a while. Just take off for the night.”

“Lord, that’s a great idea.” His eyes lit up at the prospect of getting away. “I’ll make the arrangements. Be ready at eight.”

“Oh, but I—”

“You are brilliant.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “I was wondering how I would make it through the end of the event, but knowing escape is near, I can handle anything.”

“Julian.” She pulled her hand away determined to disabuse him of his assumption. “I cannot—”

“Julian,” a female voice interrupted.

Katrina looked up to find Tessa stepping up to their table. Katrina tucked her hands into her lap, but the lift of a dark eyebrow indicated Tessa had noticed her holding hands with the Prince. She received no other acknowledgment.

“Tessa.” Julian politely rose to his feet to greet Samson’s former nanny. “Thank you for coming to the services. Helene would be happy to know you were here.”

“She was my friend. Of course I came.” The woman tugged on the hem of her jacket, drawing attention to the way the designer suit flattered her slim curves. “I was hoping I might have a private moment with you.”

Before he could refuse, Katrina stood. “I will check on your father.”

“This will only take a moment,” he objected.

“Take your time.” She gathered their used plates and deposited them on a tray inside the door. A glance around revealed no one seemed to be showing any extra interest in her reappearance. Good. Hopefully that meant her
tête-à-tête
with Julian may have gone unnoticed.

Trying not to obsess about his conversation with Tessa, Katrina wove her way through the dwindling crowd to where Lowell sat at the head of the room surrounded by well-wishers. She sidled up to Grimes.

“How is he doing?”

“He is tiring.”

Weren’t they all? And now she had to worry over Julian’s plan to escape. Yes, he needed the break, but it was insane for her to go with him.

“Has he eaten?”

“He says he is not hungry.”

“Hmm.” Like father like son. “If you make him up a plate, I will get it to him.”

“I will see to it,
Fräulein
.” He disappeared without a sound, a neat trick on the marble flooring. With his exit, she assumed his duty of keeping tabs on the King. The man was as stubborn as his son.

Thoughts of Julian drew her gaze to the terrace door she just entered in time to watch Tessa come storming inside. Oops, it appeared the conversation hadn’t gone as she hoped. On her heels came Julian. He headed toward the front of the room, but was immediately surrounded and detained. It would take him a while to make it to his father’s side.

“
Fräulein
.” Grimes returned carrying a tray of food and drink.

“Give me a minute and then bring the tray over. Can you stand interference while he eats?”

“Child—” he gave a haughty nod “—I have done so for thirty years.”

She realized the longtime steward must also be mourning. She gave his arm a small squeeze. “The family is lucky to have you.”

Braving the crowd monopolizing the monarch, she loudly cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Your Highness,” she said into the sudden silence. “May I have a word? It is regarding Master Samson.”

“Of course.” Lowell waved her forward. Happy with the success of her ploy, she moved to his side. She didn’t expect him to make introductions. “It was very thoughtful of Jean Claude and Princess Bernadette to come to the services. It is a shame they could not stay long. But they are well represented by this young lady. Katrina Vicente is Jean Claude’s goddaughter. She has been a treasure assisting with Samson, who understandably has had a difficult time adjusting.”