Accidental Father (7 page)

She leaned away from Alex's hard body and reclaimed her personal space.

He seemed to understand because he respected the distance she'd put between them.

Once inside, the limo stopped in front of a set of steel doors that opened automatically. The car crept into the gaping mouth of the garage area. When the doors closed behind them, it was as if they were swallowed whole. Julianne took Liam out of his seat as a uniformed attendant opened the car door. He ushered them out of the limo and into an elevator, which carried them into the bowels
of the castle to the living quarters—a wing never open to the public.

Julianne was about to meet her first—and quite possibly her last—monarch. She swallowed her nerves and put on her best face for Liam's sake.

“Let's go meet your aunt, sweetie.”

A
lex could tell that Julianne was taken aback by the world he'd swept her into. To make her more comfortable, as the palace elevator carried them to their floor, he explained what was happening.

“The staff have been told only that the prince's brother and his guests would arrive today,” he said. “They weren't given details about Liam. It's probably best that we don't make announcements—even to the staff. Don't get me wrong, Liam's important, but the less fanfare the better. Do you agree?”

Julianne bit her bottom lip for a moment, before answering.

“I was the one who wanted to go quietly back
to Washington and resume life as normal. So, yes, I agree. The less fanfare the better.”

There was an edge to her voice that sometimes made it seem as if she were baiting him. His gaze fell to her lips. She had a smart mouth to go along with her brains, beauty and talent. He liked it and respected her for it.

She challenged him, not content to take everything at face value. Above all, he admired her because she put Liam first. Bringing the baby to St. Michel was hard on her. It was disruptive and unfair, but it was necessary. She was a trouper, doing what was best for the boy.

When the elevator doors opened, two middle-aged women in traditional gray-and-white maid uniforms stood at the ready. Alex didn't recognize them. Not that he was a frequent guest. In fact, he hadn't been here since Luc and Sophie's wedding more than a year ago. “
Monsieur, mademoiselle,
we welcome you to the Palais de St. Michel.” They curtsied.

“I am Isobel,” said the taller of the two. “This is Aimée. We are at your service.”

Alex gestured for Julianne to precede him as they followed the attendants down the long hallway—the tap-tap-tap of four pairs of shoes resonating on the parquet floors. Stopping in front of a
set of white double doors trimmed in ornate gilded scrollwork, Isobel opened them with a flourish.

“This suite is for the
mademoiselle
and the baby.” She gestured inside. “
Monsieur
will be right next door.”

Aimée opened the doors to Alex's room in similar fashion, but she remained silent.

Because Isobel was doing all the talking, Julianne wondered if Aimée spoke English. If not, she seemed to have the drill down.

“You will find your bags inside,” Isobel said.

That was fast.

The efficiency conjured notions of secret passageways within the castle's ancient infrastructure.

Or maybe not. Judging by the women's crisp uniforms, Julianne had a hunch that everything around here ran that efficiently.

“Do you require anything now?” Isobel asked.

“Julianne?” Alex deferred to her with his impeccable manners.

“I should be fine. Liam will need an afternoon snack soon.”

Isobel smiled. “I believe the chef has instructions on what the boy eats. I will have the kitchen prepare something and send it right up.”

And where did they get that list?

“Thank you,” Julianne said, wondering what
other bits of information the “palace” knew about them. Even if she didn't have anything to hide, it was a little unnerving that the entire staff of the Palais de St. Michel might know all about her although she was unaware of how they'd come to possess such information.

Was it that easy to gather information?

She shivered, suddenly seeing Alex's concerns about terrorists and kidnappers in a different light.

Big Brother obviously was watching. And she had a hunch it wasn't simply Alex's big brother, Luc. If the omniscient Big Brother was a bully, there was no telling what he might do.

Okay, she got it.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

Liam cooed and pointed to a painting of an angel hanging in the hallway. Julianne was glad to have something to shift her focus.

“Pretty,” she answered.

Pretty was an understatement.
This hall was like a museum wing with its gilded-framed paintings, sculptures and vases on pedestals. She made sure she kept at least an arm's length away from anything breakable so that Liam wouldn't be tempted to touch.

“
Monsieur,
may I get you anything?” Isobel asked.

“No, thank you. I believe I have everything I need.” Alex's gaze stayed on Julianne and Liam.

Isobel made a gesture that was more than a nod but not quite a full-fledged bow. “This evening, you will be dining with Her Majesty and Prince Luc. Dinner will be served in their apartment at seven-thirty. In the meantime, I hope you will find your accommodations to your satisfaction. If not, do not hesitate to ring.”

“Thank you.” Alex's voice was politely dismissive, a clue that he was comfortable dealing with the
help.
With another nod/bow, Isobel and Aimée turned and left, leaving Alex and Julianne alone in the fancy hallway.

They stood a moment, facing each other, both in front of their respective suite doors.

“They should have a crib set up and ready for Liam,” Alex said. “Do you need help?”

She glanced inside, expecting to see beds in a room, hotel-room fashion, but saw instead that the doors opened into a living room.

“I'm sure everything is fine,” she said. “So…I'll see you later?”

“Yes, later.”

He turned to enter his room.

“Will you get us for dinner?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. She hadn't meant to sound quite so needy, but she didn't know where the royal apartment was located. She felt even more foolish when she realized, one second after she'd spoken, that an escort would probably appear at her door to guide her. The folks at the Palais de St. Michel seemed to be good at anticipating what guests needed before they knew it themselves.

“Of course,” Alex said. “I was planning on it.”

“Thanks,” she said.

They both lingered.

“Well, I guess I should get him settled. Maybe he'll sleep a bit before his snack arrives.”

Alex nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Her “room” turned out to be a suite considerably larger and nicer than her own apartment in D.C. Two bedrooms, two baths, a living room with a fire burning in the fireplace…a person could definitely get used to this.

So she reminded herself, she'd better not get too comfortable. She had phone calls to make.

Although she could see Alex's point about security, and Alex seemed to be fair and willing to involve her in most of the decisions affecting Liam,
she wouldn't be able to relax until after she'd spoken to an attorney.

She wasn't content to take the word of the U.S. Embassy's legal representative. He'd made a snap judgment with St. Michel Secret Service breathing down his neck. She wanted her legal rights defined. Right now everything seemed fine, but who knew what the future might bring? She couldn't stay here forever, and she certainly didn't want to leave without Liam. Not after she'd promised Marissa she'd raise him.

Now that they were on St. Michel soil, in the towers of the royal fortress, she really was at Alex's mercy. If they wanted to take her baby, they could.

Even though she wanted to believe that wouldn't happen, that she'd never have reason to think about legalities, she had to cover all her bases.

After she'd gotten Liam to sleep, she gathered her cell phone, a pen and paper and called Anita Collins to enlist help finding counsel.

Half an hour later, not only had Anita helped her come up with a list of potential attorneys who might be able to help her, but she'd also put Graham on the phone. He had news about the reorganization and was eager for Julianne to get home.

This was good news. If Graham's plan panned out, the orchestra folding might've been a blessing
in disguise. The proverbial
when a door closes a window opens
came to mind.

She needed a computer to do some research. Even though there was a nice Mac with tempting Internet service, she decided she'd wait until she could go into town to use a public connection.

Take that, Big Brother.

As if in response, there was a knock at her door. It startled her for a moment, but then she remembered it was probably palace staff with Liam's snack. When she opened the door she was surprised to see Alex standing there holding the beat-up Bundy flute case.

The flute. For her foundation. She'd been too proud, too furious with him yesterday…had it only been yesterday that everything was different?

“You forgot this.” He held out the flute to her as if that was really what happened.

“And you brought it to me. You're just thoughtful like that, aren't you?”

He smiled. “It's been said that thoughtfulness is one of my virtues.”

“Alex, if you continue to be this
thoughtful,
I simply don't know what I'm going to do with you.”

His gaze shifted to her mouth.

“I might be able to make a few suggestions.”

She bit the insides of her cheeks. Heat spread like wildfire over her face and she turned away from him, motioning him into the living room.

“Come in.”

That was the thing about this maddening man, sometimes—most of the time, in fact—he caught her off guard, upsetting her equilibrium.

Sometimes he was so darn thoughtful that it was hard to think about calling lawyers and playing hardball. But maybe that was his strategy? Subdue her with kindness.

The sobering thought helped the blush pass.

“Thank you for that.” She gestured to the flute. “Liam's sleeping, and I was enjoying the fire.”

He set the case on the entryway table and followed her into the living room.

The notebook in which she'd jotted notes about lawyers was open and lying on the couch where she'd left it. She promptly closed it and set it on the far side of the large, square granite-topped coffee table as he sat on the couch. She settled herself next to him.

“Were you working?” he asked, looking at the note pad.

She hesitated for a moment, but then in a flash, she decided to be up front with him.

“I'm researching U.S.-based attorneys. I think
you need to know that I still plan on learning what my options are. As you know, I can't stay here forever. And I simply can't imagine being separated from my child.”

He nodded, but it wasn't a gesture of agreement. More like an indication of comprehension. “You like to be in charge, don't you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“I didn't say it was bad.”

“It wasn't so much what you said, as how you said it.” She arched a brow. “Do you have a problem with strong women?”

“Of course not.”

His prickly response came a little too quickly.

Is that why you left Marissa?
The question was poised right on the tip of her tongue, but he spoke first. “It just seems like you always have to drive. Sometimes it might be nice to let go, let someone else take the wheel for a change.”

She blinked, unsure of what to say. Truly, she knew that letting go of the reins was a challenge. Being in control was part of who she was.

“I guess I've always been the driver,” she said. “Or at least the planner and the one in charge. Marissa was the carefree, happy-go-lucky one.”

She held her breath, as if uttering her sister's
name would invite her ghost to wedge its way between Alex and her again.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Our parents died one month before my eighteenth birthday. Marissa was four years younger than I was so I had to fight to gain custody of her. I wasn't going to lose her.”

“And you won.” Alex did not sound amazed.

“It wasn't easy,” Julianne admitted.

“I'm sorry.” He touched her arm, lightly. “About your loss. It must've been a terrible shock and a lot to bear for someone so young. First, your parents and then Marissa…”

His eyes held genuine sympathy.

“The past twenty-four hours have felt like history is repeating itself, Alex. Here I am once again, fighting for custody of the only family I have left.”

Life had been such a blur over the handful of months since Liam had come into her life that she hadn't realized the similarities until now. Hadn't realized how natural it was for her to fight tooth and nail for those who belonged to her.

Alex's exhale was sharp, as if her words had made an impact.

“I'm not trying to take him away from you,” he
said. “By now, I'd hoped that was evident.” His words were soothing, not defensive.

“Well, yes, but can you understand how strange this feels? We were supposed to be on our way home today. Instead, we're somewhere in the bowels of a castle in a foreign country. Do you see where I'm coming from? I mean what would happen if I took Liam and walked out of here?”

He inclined his head slightly, narrowing his eyes, as if contemplating the question. “You'd probably get lost. The palace is like a maze. One of the more primitive security features. And I'm not exactly keeping you in a dungeon.”

She clucked her tongue and gave his leg a light, get-serious push. “Very funny. But I'm serious. I want to know what would happen if I tried to leave?”

His gaze studied her face, making a languid perusal of her features. “You're not a prisoner here, Julianne. Would you like to get out? Perhaps go for a sail on my boat or take a tour of St. Michel?”

That wasn't exactly what she'd meant by
leaving,
and she knew he understood that when he said, “Be patient, Julianne. I'm trying very hard to make this a win-win situation for everyone involved.” She nodded.

“Thank you,” he answered. “I still think it might
be a good idea if you got out. The only way you can fully appreciate St. Michel is to see it. I would love to have the honor of being your official tour guide. Do we have a date tomorrow?”