Romancing the Crown: Kate & Lucas: Under the King's Command / The Prince's Wedding. Justine Davis
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But instead of going through the hospital’s doors, the woman stopped beside the low stone planter that jutted from the hospital wall and set her bundle on the flowers.
A gurgling wail came from the bundle.
The woman brushed off her palms. Her voice, dry and harsh, carried clearly on the breeze. “Go ahead and cry. Someone will hear you soon.”
Kate scowled and jogged up the hill. “Excuse me, do you need some help?”
The woman snapped her head up and glanced over her shoulder. Instead of retrieving the baby, she took a step away.
Kate was close enough to see a tiny fist poke out of the bundle of blankets. It waved in the air, as if to punctuate its displeasure.
The woman’s response to the infant’s distress was to take another step away.
Kate’s chest heaved, not only from the exertion of her run but from a growing sense of outrage. This woman acted as if she intended to leave the child where it was. “What are you doing?” Kate demanded. “You’re not really planning on abandoning your baby there, are you?”
The woman glanced around, her gaze as furtive as her movements had been. In the bleak glare of the streetlights, her plain, pinched features and her mousy brown hair gave her the look of a rodent. “Keep out of this. It’s none of your business.”
“A child’s welfare is everybody’s business. If your baby is ill—”
“There’s nothing wrong with the baby. He’s fine. I just can’t keep him anymore.”
The resolution in the woman’s tone deepened Kate’s outrage. Nevertheless, she tried to reason with her again. “Ma’am, if you need help caring for your child, there are agencies that you can go to—”
“You know nothing about it. Get out of my way.”
It took no more than a heartbeat for Kate to assess her options. As a U.S. naval officer and a foreigner in Montebello, she had no authority over this civilian. Yet turning away, continuing with her run, was out of the question. No matter how tired she was, no matter what flack she might take from her base commander for interfering, she had a clear duty that transcended the rule book and the need for sleep. Before the woman could take another step, Kate grasped her wrist. “Sorry, I can’t let you leave.”
“What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me!” The woman yanked her wrist, a surprising amount of strength in her wiry frame, but she couldn’t break Kate’s hold. Muttering a curse, she aimed a kick at Kate’s shin.
Kate neatly sidestepped the kick as her training took over. Without loosening her hold, she used the woman’s momentum to spin her around, then twisted her arm behind her back. Exerting just enough pressure to hold her in place against the low stone wall without injuring her, Kate turned her head to look at the infant.
He had managed to kick off the blankets altogether and lay on his back with his feet and fists waving in the air. His cries had stopped, as if he preferred the cold embrace of the flower bed to being held in his mother’s arms. His face was flushed from crying, and tiny shudders rippled over his body, but his blue eyes were bright with interest as he gazed around him at the crushed flowers.
How could anyone discard their child like this? Babies were so precious, their lives so fragile, what kind of monster would abandon, with such indifference, the life she had carried? Didn’t she fear the nightmares that would follow? Didn’t she realize how the cries would haunt her?
“Let go,” the woman repeated. “Ow! You’re breaking my arm!”
Kate wrenched her attention to her duty. Turning toward the hospital doors, she raised her voice to the level she’d learned to employ on the deck of a battleship and called for help.
After ten seconds the hospital door swung open and an elderly white-clad nurse peeked out. Her eyes widened when she saw Kate and the struggling woman.
Belatedly, Kate realized how the situation must look. Dressed in her sweat-damp T-shirt and running shorts, her face bare of makeup and her hair a windblown mess, she probably appeared like some kind of female mugger who was overpowering this hapless, mousy woman. Before the nurse could jump to the wrong conclusion about which one of them was calling for help, Kate spoke up. “I’m Lieutenant Kate Mulvaney, U.S. Navy,” she said. “I’m making a citizen’s arrest. I need you to call the police and tend to—”
“No! No police.” The woman renewed her struggle to escape Kate’s hold. “I didn’t do anything!”
The nurse ducked inside before Kate could tell her to see to the baby. Lying in the planter the way he was, he wouldn’t have been visible from the door. Now that he’d stopped crying, no one would notice he was there unless they were looking. If Kate hadn’t witnessed what had happened, how long would the child have gone undiscovered?
She thought of what might have happened to the helpless infant and had to restrain herself from giving the woman’s arm an extra twist.
A security guard emerged from the hospital. He was a large man with a generous belly that stretched his light gray uniform to the limit of its buttons. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
Kate identified herself once again and guided her prisoner toward him. “This woman was abandoning her baby.”
“Baby? What baby?”
As soon as the guard took the woman’s arm, Kate released her and turned to the planter. “This baby,” she said. Leaning over, she carefully picked up the child. “I’ll bring him into emergency. I think a doctor should have a look at him…”
Kate’s words trailed off. Too many sensations were hitting her at once. The warmth of the infant, the way he felt, so light, so vulnerable in her arms, the powdery baby smell that rose from his dark hair, all of it slid right past her defenses and stirred up the old yearning—
She should have kept on running. And she would, as soon as she had done her duty. She would hand the child to a doctor and stay until police arrived so she could answer their questions, but after that, there would be no reason to hang around any longer. The situation was unfortunate but under control. Whatever the woman’s story, it wasn’t Kate’s concern.
But oh, how sweetly the baby nestled to her breast.
Damn.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” The woman’s voice was shrill as the guard ushered her through the hospital entrance. Several nurses had gathered in the corridor, evidently drawn by the commotion. The woman dragged her heels, appealing to her audience. “That’s not even my baby. I’ve been taking care of him since his mother died. I was bringing him to his father, I swear, but I couldn’t get into the palace and—”
“Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the guard said.
“Did she say palace?” someone asked.
“I shouldn’t be treated like this,” the woman persisted. “I should get a reward. That’s no ordinary baby. He’s the son of Lucas Sebastiani. Prince Lucas Sebastiani. That baby is the royal heir!”
Sam took the corner on two wheels and floored the accelerator. The jeep leaped up the hill and skidded to a stop outside the hospital. Word must have already leaked out, judging by the crowd that was gathered near the doors. The security guards and Montebellan police quickly cleared a path when they recognized Sam’s passengers.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Coburn.” The deep voice came from the rear seat. “I like a man who can follow orders.”
Sam had only begun his assignment in Montebello a few hours ago, so he was still unaccustomed to dealing with royalty. He was never sure whether to salute or bow. The moment he hopped to the ground, he turned to offer his hand. “I apologize if the ride was rougher than you’re accustomed to, Your Highness.”
King Marcus smiled and shook his head. “Believe