Teresa Carpenter - Stolen Kiss From a Prince

They traveled the remainder of the distance in silence. Which made the sound of Samson’s cries all the more grating as they approached the door to Julian’s rooms.

Inside the suite, tears stained the cheeks of both Tessa and Samson. The nanny had been walking the boy, trying to soothe him, but upon his and Katrina’s arrival, she began sobbing.

“I can’t take anymore.” She thrust Samson into Katrina’s arms and fled.

Katrina didn’t hesitate. She wrapped Samson close and started talking to him. “Hey, baby, it is fine. I am here. Does your head hurt?” She kissed his light curls. “Mine, too.”

Though he continued to cry, there was no denying Samson preferred the redhead to the blonde. Instead of fighting the embrace by curling up and putting his arms and legs between his body and Tessa’s, he clung to Katrina’s lusher figure.

Finding the scene painful to watch, knowing this might just be the beginning of Samson’s trials, Julian moved to the fireplace to start a fire. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Katrina continued to coo to Sammy until his sobs lessened and eventually he sat up in her arms. She used the collar of the fluffy robe to wipe his pale cheeks. Poor baby, he had such a hard road ahead of him. Ever the optimist, even she had to acknowledge the chances of his parents surviving both the crash and the icy weather were long odds.

Still, she prayed and she hoped. Miracles happened every day.

“Mama? Papa?” Samson asked around a shaky breath.

Biting the inside of her lip, she shook her head. “We do not know yet.”

Tears leaked from his eyes. “I want Mama.”

“I know, baby. She wants to be with you, too. And look...” She walked to the fireplace where Prince Julian stood. “Uncle Julian has come to get you.” She met brooding brown eyes. His discontent with her conversation showed in the stiff set of his shoulders. He’d soon learn Sammy did better with information than platitudes. “He is going to take you to where they are looking for Mama and Papa, and then he will take you home.”

“Unca Julie.” Boy studied man for a minute then surprised her by holding out his arms indicating he wanted to go to his uncle.

Julian’s eyes went wide when she plunked the toddler in his arms.

“Uh, hum.” He cleared his throat, clearly at a loss what to do with the boy.

“It is a good thing.” She mouthed the words, not wanting to disturb the moment. Though she stayed close enough to be enveloped in the dual scents of manly musk and baby shampoo.

This was the first time Sammy had voluntarily gone from her to someone else. It showed a level of trust that boded well for the future.

“Mama? Papa?” He put the question to his uncle.

Julian paled. She understood his pain. It broke her heart every time she had to tell Sammy his parents weren’t coming home yet.

Julian’s gaze shot to her.

She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk to him. He is a sharp biscuit. He does not talk much, but he understands more than you might think.”

Skepticism flashed over his aristocratic features before he turned his attention to Sammy. He hoisted the child up in his arms so they were eye to eye.

“Samson,” he began, and for a moment she worried he’d lecture the young Prince on duty and decorum. But Sammy’s intent attention must have swayed him. “The best searchers in the world are looking for them.” And then he added. “I want to see them, too.”

More tears leaked down Sammy’s cheeks. He reached out, grabbed Julian’s ears and leaned his forehead against his uncle’s. The two shared a moment of loss and hope.

The poignant picture had Katrina swiping at her own cheeks.

Emotion must have gotten to Julian, because he squeezed too hard causing Sammy to squirm. He turned and held his arms out to her.

She looked to Julian, hating to end the closeness between the two, but he seemed happy to hand Sammy off to her. Hoping the exchange was enough to allow the boy to settle into sleep, she carried him into the room where the crib had been set up.

He frantically shook his head and began to cry. “No. No tired.”

Rather than force it she backed up. Right into a hard male body.

“Oh!” She swung around even as his hands went to her waist, and suddenly she found herself in the Prince’s arms. She looked up, and up, past his stubborn chin to eyes of molten gold. Oh yeah, definitely the better-looking brother. And way too close.

“Sorry.” She winced internally at the squeak in her voice as she stepped back. Or tried to. His fingers tightened on her waist, holding her still as his hot gaze strolled from the gapping neckline of the robe to the racing pulse in her neck, to the bite she had on her lip, to her eyes. She played it cool even as a shiver traced down her spine and her pulse raced.

Wrong time.

Wrong place.

Wrong man.

Wrong woman.

He obviously agreed, because his hands dropped and he stepped aside.

Breathing a sigh of relief she moved past him to pace the room. Julian moved to the fireplace to stoke the fire. Way wrong man. She’d spent enough time in the palace from childhood on to know the demands placed on royalty. And the price was too high. If she ever worked out her trust issues, she wanted a kind man and a simple life.

Two strikes against Prince Julian.

Okay, that wasn’t totally fair. These weren’t the best circumstances. Obviously he was under a lot of pressure.

Her arms were beginning to burn from fatigue so she took a seat on the antique sofa and tucked Sammy comfortably against her. He denied it, but he was tired. Part of his objection was probably to the crib. He hated to be called a baby. But what he really craved was human contact.

Calling to mind one of his favorite stories, she began a tale about a train named Thomas while slowly running her fingers through his baby-fine blond hair. After all he’d been through, she hoped it wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep.

Thanks to Julian. He might be brusque and rude, but she gave him points for putting Sammy’s needs before his own. She knew he would have preferred to leave Pasadonia without ever seeing her again. Or more on point, without Sammy seeing her. Yet he’d come for her rather than let Sammy cry himself into exhausted slumber.

She smothered a yawn, forced her eyes open and skipped ahead in the story.

So maybe there was a little kindness buried somewhere inside the cold Prince.

CHAPTER THREE

JULIAN TAPPED HIS lip as he contemplated the two asleep on the sofa. Snuggled up in Katrina’s arms, Samson appeared more at peace than Julian had seen him since arriving at the palace.

Thank God. He’d taken about all of the boy’s distress that he could handle.

Blast Tessa for deserting them. He was counting on her to help him with the boy on the trip home. She’d best have herself pulled together by morning. If he needed proof he was ill prepared to handle his nephew, he received it tonight. Samson couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Julian wanted to strangle Katrina when she started talking about Donal and Helene to the boy. Yet when faced with a direct question from Samson, Julian couldn’t lie. Giving the child false hope served no purpose beyond delayed pain. Best he prepare for the worst and be surprised by a miracle.

Which didn’t change the fact he’d be better off if left in the dark about the crash in the first place.

Julian switched his gaze to the woman responsible for some of Samson’s suffering. Her lap provided a comfortable resting place for the child, but Katrina sat in the middle slumped to the right with her head listing at an angle sure to cause a crick by morning.

Dare he risk moving them? For certain they’d be more comfortable in a bed. But as he considered the logistics, he doubted the success of getting them both to the desired destination still asleep, an imperative in his mind.