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Noelle pulled out of her suitcase a simple black V-neck sheath made of rayon, with enough spandex to allow the material to mold to her modest curves. Diagonally placed black piping created interest on what could have been a forgettable dress. Over it she slipped a sheer black short-sleeve cropped jacket ornamented with clusters of downy black feathers. Peep-toe pumps completed the outfit. Noelle felt confident and sexy. Ready to match wits with Christian.
With her son racing down the corridor ahead of her, Noelle made her way back to the ground floor. Christian met her at the bottom of the stairs, looking dashing in a dark gray suit and a crisp white shirt. In a nod to country informality, he’d gone without a tie and left the top button of his shirt undone to expose the strong column of his throat.
Although she’d thought herself calm and sophisticated enough to take Christian to bed without succumbing to feverish, emotional drama, the man was so damned charismatic her heart fluttered wildly the instant their eyes met. Parts of her came to glorious life at his slow, deliberate grin. He would not let her withdraw her admission that she wanted them to make love. A heavy ache began low in her belly. She craved his hands on her. Judging from the heat blazing in his eyes, before the night was out he intended to make that happen.
But first, they had to get through a difficult conversation after dinner. Noelle knew by telling Marc the truth she was setting them on a path neither might be ready for. Never before had a meal dragged on the way dinner with Christian and Marc did. If Noelle’s thoughts hadn’t been in such turmoil, she might have been able to enjoy the excellent lamb chops and the decadent chocolate dessert. As it was, the food barely registered. She listened with half her attention to Christian’s attempts to draw out Marc. He had regressed from his earlier friendliness on the battlements back to wariness.
After dinner Noelle guided her son into the salon where one of the maids had placed a pot of coffee. Christian’s face showed none of the anxiety Noelle was feeling as she sat her son on the sofa before joining him on the soft cushions.
“Marc, I have something important to tell you about Prince Christian.”
Her son squirmed as if fidgeting could somehow let him escape the sudden tension in the room. Noelle set her hand on his knees to stop him from kicking his feet against the sofa frame.
“What?” He slid down so his back was flat against the seat cushions and he was staring up at the coffered ceiling.
Noelle could tell she was losing her son and spoke quickly. “I wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand.”
As if paying no attention to her words, Marc let his body go limp and slid onto the floor. “Did you see that, Mama?”
“I did. Now please come sit on the sofa and listen to what I’m telling you.” Her temper rarely flared with Marc, but the past ten days had left her emotions raw and her nerves frayed. She waited until Marc had flopped back into his original seat before setting her hands on his forearms and compelling him to look at her. “Prince Christian is your father.”
“No.” Marc shook his head hard enough to dislodge the controlled waves his mother had combed his hair into before dinner. “I don’t have a father.”
“You do. And he’s Prince Christian.”
Marc got to his knees and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t like him.”
“Of course you do.” She aimed a glance at Christian to see how he was reacting.
As if taking this as an invitation, he hunkered down beside his son and offered an engaging smile. Noelle’s insides melted at his earnest warmth, but Marc wasn’t swayed.
“I don’t like him. I like Geoff.”
“Just because you like Geoff doesn’t mean you can’t like your father, too.”
“He’s not my father. I don’t know him.”
“I’d like to change that,” Christian said. “You and your mom can come stay at the palace, and we’ll all get to know each other.”
“I don’t want to stay at the palace. I want to stay in my house.” Marc’s face grew red as his frustration grew. “Please, Mama. Can’t we stay at our house?”
Noelle hated seeing her son upset and shook her head at Christian. “It’s a lot for him to absorb all at once. Why don’t I take him up to bed? We can talk more tomorrow.”
Christian ran his large hand over his son’s dark hair, looking unsurprised but bleak when the boy flinched and pressed his face against his mother’s chest.
