Secret Child, Royal Scandal. Cat Schield
held no heat. “I was a convenient bed for you to fall into after you were done partying. You came to me when you grew tired of your superficial crowd and their thoughtless behavior. And in the end, you pushed me out of your life as if two years together meant nothing.”
For your own good.
“And look how you thrived. You moved to Paris and became an internationally famous designer.” He sounded defensive, and that wasn’t the tone he wanted to take with her.
“Is that what you think I wanted?” Her breath huffed out in a short burst that he might have taken for laughter if she hadn’t been frowning. “Fame and fortune?”
No, it’s what he’d wanted for her. “Talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste.”
“Do you want me to thank you?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
During the time they were together, he’d been more honest with her than anyone else before or since. Not even his brothers had known of the demons that drove him. Maybe he trusted Noelle because they’d been friends before they became lovers. Her openness and gentle spirit had offered him a safe place to unload all his fears and doubts. And because of that, she’d gotten the full weight of his darkness.
“No.”
“Then why are we having this conversation after five years of silence?”
Because once again he needed her solace and support. The pressure of fathering the future heir to Sherdana’s throne was dredging up his worst qualities. She’d talked him through bouts of melancholy in the past.
“I need you.”
Her expression reflected dismay. “I’m no longer that girl.” Her tone heated as she continued. “And even if I was, I have other things in my life that will always take priority over a...” As if realizing what she’d been about to say to her prince, Noelle sucked in a giant breath and pulled her lips between her teeth. Her next words were polite, her tone tempered. “I am no longer in a position to be your friend.”
She twisted the word friend into something ugly. Christian read her message loud and clear. She wanted nothing more to do with him. Not as his confidante, his champion or as his lover.
Before he could argue, she dropped another one of those annoying curtsies. “Excuse me, Your Highness, but I should get back to the party.”
Christian watched her vanish back along the path and marveled at how thoroughly he’d mucked up his most important act of selflessness. She was right to shut him down. He’d repeatedly demonstrated that he was nothing but trouble for her.
But after talking to her, he knew if he was going to get through the next few months of finding a wife and settling down to the job of producing the next heir to the throne, he was going to need a friend in his corner. And once upon a time, Noelle had been the only one he talked to about his problems.
He desperately wanted her support. And although she might not be on board with the idea at the moment, he was going to persuade her to give it.
* * *
The evening air accompanied Noelle into the small, functional kitchen of her comfortable rural cottage, bringing the earthy scents of fall with her. As much as she’d enjoyed her years in Paris, she’d missed the slower pace and wide-open spaces of the countryside. And an energetic boy like her son needed room to run.
She placed the tomatoes she’d picked on the counter. Her garden was reaching the end of its growing season, and soon she would collect the last of the squash, tomatoes and herbs. Autumn was her favorite season. The rich burgundy, gold and vivid greens of the hills around her cottage inspired her most unique designs. One downside to her success as a wedding-dress designer was that her color palate was limited to shades of white and cream with an occasional pastel thrown in.
“Mama!”
Before Noelle could brace herself, her dark-haired son barreled into her legs. Laughing, she bent down and wrapped her arms around his squirmy little body. Like most four-years-olds he was a bundle of energy, and Noelle got her hug in fast.
“Did you have a good afternoon with Nana?” Noelle’s mother lived with them and watched Marc after school while Noelle worked. She glanced at her mother without waiting for her son’s response.
“He was a good boy,” Mara Dubone said, her tone emphatic.
Noelle hoped that was true. In the past six months, Marc had grown more rambunctious and wasn’t good at listening to his grandmother. Mara loved her grandson very much and defended him always, but it worried Noelle that her son was getting to be too much for her mother to handle.
“I was good.” Marc’s bronze-gold eyes glowed with sincerity and Noelle sighed.
She framed his face, surveyed the features boldly stamped by his father and gave him a big smile. “I’m so glad.”
He had his father’s knack for mischief as well as his charm. The thought caused Noelle a small pang of anxiety. Her encounter with Christian this afternoon had been unsettling. After almost five years of no contact, he’d finally reached out to her. That it was five years too late hadn’t stopped her heart from thumping wildly in her chest.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and brush your teeth,” Mara said. “Your mama will come read to you, but she can’t do that until you’re in your pajamas and in bed.”
“Yeah.” With typical enthusiasm, Marc raced upstairs, his stocking feet pounding on the wood steps that led to the second floor.
“Was he really okay today?” Noelle asked as soon as she was alone with her mother.
Mara sighed. “He is a wonderful boy, but he has a lot of energy and needs a firm hand.” Noelle’s mother gave her daughter a sly grin. “What he needs is a man in his life who can channel some of that energy into masculine pursuits.”
It wasn’t the first time her mother had made this observation. Noelle nodded the way she always did. “Marc’s friends are going fishing with their fathers next week. Phillip’s dad offered to take Marc, as well. Perhaps I should take him up on his offer.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Noelle’s mother set her hands on her hips and shook her head. “You are not getting any younger. It’s time you stopped pining for that prince of yours. It’s been almost five years. You need to move on.”
“I am not pining for Christian. And I have moved on. I have a thriving business that takes up most of my energy and a small boy who deserves his mother’s full attention.”
With a disgusted snort, Noelle’s mother headed for the stairs. From above their heads came a series of loud thumps as Marc worked off his energy before bedtime.
Noelle walked back into the kitchen to turn off the light and then repeated the process in the dining room and living room before heading up to the bedrooms. For a moment she paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened to the sounds of her family. Her mother’s low voice, patient and firm. Her son’s clear tones, happy and dynamic.
A firm knock on her front door snapped Noelle out of her musing. She glanced at the clock over the mantel. Eight forty-five. Who could be visiting her at this hour?
Although her farmhouse sat on an acre of land, Noelle had never worried about her isolation. She had neighbors on all sides and they kept an eye on her and her family. Perhaps one of her goats had escaped again. She’d been having problems with the fence on the east side of their pasture.
Flipping on the light in the foyer, Noelle pulled the door open. Her smile died as she spotted the man standing outside her front door.
“Christian?”
Determination lit his gold eyes. While at his brother’s wedding, she’d found it easy to discourage the arrogant prince who’d put his arm around her waist and boldly kissed her cheek.
“Good evening, Noelle.”