Found: His Royal Baby. Raye Morgan
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“Be serious.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m afraid we aren’t going to have time to have that talk,” she said, making an attempt to sound lighthearted and failing utterly. “We’ve decided we must leave right away. So…”
One quick step closed the gap between them. He moved before she had time to react and took her hand in his, looking down into her startled eyes.
“Alexandra, you’re not going anywhere until we have our talk. We’ve got things we need to clarify between us. You know that.”
She tried to pull her hand away but he wasn’t going to let it go.
“Don’t you have something you need to tell me?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” He stared into her eyes. “Where is the child?” he asked firmly.
Even though she’d known what he was here for all along, that sent a shock through her system.
“What child?” she said breathlessly, fighting for equilibrium.
He pulled her closer, staring intently into her eyes.
“The baby you had five months ago in Paris. Where are you keeping him?”
She lifted her chin defiantly.
“That’s just nonsense.” She felt stronger as she fought back. “Who told you I had a baby?”
He looked pained. “Alex, please. People tell me all kinds of things. I have to sift through a lot of lies to get to the few kernels of truth. I’ve had a lot of experience at this.”
“Then what makes you think you’ve got hold of some good information for a change?” she demanded, trying to buy time.
“More than one trusted source.” He shrugged. He’d only recently gathered enough evidence to know he was on firm ground. “I’ve seen proof. You had a baby just about five months ago at the Sisters of Mercy private clinic on Gereaux Street, the little building behind the art gallery. I’ve seen pictures.”
She closed her eyes, feeling faint. Her head was reeling. He had more than she’d thought. There wasn’t much she could do but bluster her way through this.
Opening her eyes again, she glared at him.
“Even if I did have a baby, what business is it of yours?”
His blue eyes were searching her face as though he would find answers in her gaze.
“Alex, we were together at exactly the right time to make it my business.”
She shook her head firmly. “You don’t know that. You can’t remember what happened to you during your recovery. You’ve said so again and again. It’s even been in the papers.”
He hesitated. “It’s true. I have very little memory of that period of my life. I was unconscious most of the time.”
“There, you see? Then what makes you think…?”
“Certain memories are coming back.” He touched her cheek with the palm of his hand, and his gaze softened as it traced her hairline. “Memories of skin like silk and hair like fire,” he murmured.
She stiffened, determined not to let him get to her. “Maybe you were dreaming.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, Alex.” His fingers touched her small, shell-like ear, then curled softly around it. “I remember how you taste. I remember you slipping into my bed, soft and willing and…”
“No!” She tried to pull away, but his hand held hers like a vise.
“You tasted like fine wine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. That’s crazy. Women all taste alike.”
His smile was slight but deadly. She shivered, wishing she had the strength to look away.
“No, they don’t,” he said. “No one else tastes like you do.”
Her heart was thudding in her throat, beating so hard she could hardly breathe. “How would you know that? It’s…it’s been years, and then you were wounded and…”
He captured her chin in his hand, tilting her face to receive him. “I’ll show you,” he said softly, then lowered his lips to hers.
She tried to gather the wherewithal to resist, but it was no use. His mouth felt so warm, so good, and she opened to his kiss as though she’d been starving for him.
But it only lasted for a moment. He drew back and looked at her, shaking his head. “Alex,” he began.
But she never heard what he was about to say. Her attention was caught by something behind him on the other side of the room. Henri was there, his long, thin body bent over, a tranquilizer gun raised and trained on his target. He was going to shoot a dart into Dane.
Of course. It was the only way they could possibly get out of here without Dane and his security people following them. Good for Henri. Quick thinking. It made sense. And yet the feelings that filled her were overwhelming. She couldn’t do this. She had so much hidden affection for this man, despite everything. She couldn’t let him be hurt in any way.
“No!” she cried out to Henri. “Wait!”
Dane looked at her, startled, and by the time he realized there was someone else in the room, it was too late. The dart had been shot from the tranquilizer gun. He looked at her in disbelief, reached back to try to pull out the dart, swore and crumpled to the floor.
“Did you hurt him?” she cried, though she knew the question was moot. Dropping to the floor, she swept his hair back off his forehead and searched his unconscious face for signs. “Didn’t you hear me say to wait?”
Henri shrugged. Leaning down, he pulled out the dart and noted it was empty. The fluid would do its work.
“I couldn’t risk it. He had to be rendered harmless.” He reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“No.” She rose, looking down at the prince. Emotion choked her throat. “We can’t leave him like this.”
Henri looked at her, incredulous. “What are you talking about? We have to go. He might have others outside. And in any case, your brothers will be here soon. You don’t want to have to talk to them about this, do you?”
“No.” She put a hand to her head, trying to sort things out. “We must go. But…”
“Come along, then. Grace is already in the car with the baby. I’ll tell the manager to hold our bags and things in storage until we send for them.”
She nodded, still looking down at where Dane lay like a wounded stag.
“We have to take him with us,” she said softly, a feeling of wonderment growing inside her. How could she even think of such a thing? And yet, there wasn’t any choice.
“If we leave him here…” A few horrendous consequences flashed through her mind. She looked up at Henri. “Don’t you see?”
He looked pained, his thin face haggard. “Your brothers…”
“Yes.” She threw a hand out, half in a sense of command, half beseeching him to understand. “Who knows what they would do to him?”
“But, miss, we can’t,” he said, his usually stoic expression twisted into a special sort of agony. “What are we going to do with him? What will he do when he comes to? Don’t you see how dangerous that would be?”
She stared into his worried eyes. “But don’t you see how impossible it is to leave him?” she said simply.
He stared back and what he saw in her eyes seemed to explain it all to him. Slowly he nodded, and a look of resignation began to