Brianna’s stomach clenched, and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. Here was her confirmation of her relationship with Chris. She’d been head over heels for him. She’d suspected as much, but the proof was here in her own handwriting.
Swallowing hard, she turned the page and kept reading, her heart pounding against her ribs. She read about walks on the beach, making love in a lighthouse, dinners by candlelight, a day trip to Boston and the birthday dinner for Harry that Miriam had mentioned yesterday. And on every page, the colorful descriptions and intimate details of her love affair with Chris spoke for the deep emotion she’d felt. The love she’d felt.
Brianna paused from her reading and glanced out the window. She stared at the view of the beach—the ebb and flow of the waves, the flutter of seagulls and shimmer of sunlight on the golden sand—and remembered. Pieces slowly clicked into place, and she saw herself laughing with Chris, kissing him, making love to him, dreaming with him.
Her breath froze in her lungs, and her heart twisted painfully. Chris. Ben’s father. The man she’d fallen in love with last winter.
Tears pricked her eyes as she lowered her gaze to the next entry.
“Chris asked if he could come by tonight. He said he has something important to talk to me about. I think this is the night! I think he’s going to propose!”
Her heart did a slow roll as she turned to the last handwritten page. “Chris left. He told me he was sorry to hurt me, but he had to go home to someplace called Meridan. Some sort of crisis or family emergency. He said he had obligations, restrictions on his life, and couldn’t marry me. He said he had a plane to catch, and he just walked away. Just like that. I’m such an idiot. I thought he wanted to marry me, but it was just a fling for him. It hurts to be here. Everything reminds me of him. I’m leaving in the morning if I can get a seat on the six-thirty plane to Lagniappe. Why does love hurt so much?”
Feeling the tickle of moisture on her face, she wiped her cheek and snapped the diary shut. Chris had broken her heart. He’d walked away from her on the beach just as she’d remembered. If she’d known about her pregnancy at the time, she hadn’t mentioned it in her diary, and that seemed like a rather important fact to have forgotten. So Chris hadn’t known he was a father when he left. Not that she’d ever use a pregnancy to lock him into a marriage he didn’t want. Yet in his phone messages he’d said he loved her and—
The front door opened, and Hunter strolled in with a bakery box. “Apple fritters. Get ’em while they’re hot!” He met her teary gaze, and his dark eyebrows snapped together in a frown. “Bri, what is it?”
“I loved him...Chris. I wrote in the back pages about him, and...I remember feeling...happy.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened while the rest of his body seemed to wilt. His shoulders sagged, and he set the fritters on an end table as he took a seat across from her. “Well, I guess we suspected that, huh? I mean, you did have a baby with him.” The smile he sent her didn’t reach his eyes. “What else does it say? What do you remember?”
“I wanted to marry him. Hoped he’d ask me.” She read him the entries, told him the feelings and memories that had washed through her as she’d pored over the pages. With a stiff tone, she relayed the words of the last notation and her heartache. “I remember that night. I was devastated. I thought he didn’t care. But his phone messages...”
Hunter dragged a hand over his mouth, his palm scraping over his shadow of a beard. “So what now?”
She turned her gaze to the window, the beach beyond. “I don’t know. In a sense, nothing’s changed.”
“Hasn’t it?”
Her gaze darted back to the wounded look in his eyes. “Hunter, I—”
He stood abruptly, his body vibrating with tension, emotion. “I, uh...think I’m gonna go for a walk.” He strode briskly to the door that led to the deck and walkway to the beach.
“Hunter.”
“I just...need some air. To clear my head.” He disappeared outside and quickly jogged down to the water’s edge.
Her heart ached for him. Despite her vow to herself not to hurt Hunter, their relationship had become more complicated, more confusing in the past few days. She wasn’t sure what she’d say to him, but she couldn’t ignore the wounded look in his eyes.
Darting upstairs, she dressed quickly and hurried out after him. Given his head start, she didn’t catch up with him until they reached a small oceanside café.
“Shall we eat since we’re here?” he asked her, aiming a thumb at the deck of the establishment.
“Will you talk to me?” she asked, touching his arm and denting her brow.
He flashed her a lopsided grin that was bracketed with lines of tension. “It’d be pretty rude of me not to talk to my table companion.”
“About us. About what I found in that diary.”
He smoothed the windblown hair back from her face. “No need. I’m fine. Really. You just...caught me by surprise. All I need now is a cup of coffee and a big omelet. I’m starved.”
Though she didn’t quite believe he was as fine about their situation as he pretended, it was clear he had no intention of discussing the new closeness they shared...and what it meant for the future.
Shoving her own confusion aside as best she could, Brianna ordered a blueberry muffin and tried to enjoy the time with Hunter. She had as many answers about Chris as she was likely to learn here, short of finding Chris himself, and she was eager to get home to Ben.
They walked home via the streets of town, window-shopping and enjoying the cool autumn weather. Brianna stopped at the Hartleys’ long enough to tell them goodbye and promise them she’d email pictures of Ben soon.
“I’ll call the airline and see if we can get on the next flight out,” Hunter said as they reached her beach house, and he keyed open the front door. Then froze.
“What?” she asked.
“It wasn’t locked. I thought I’d locked it behind me earlier.”
“Not that I remember.” She pushed the door open, heading inside. “You had the bakery box and—”
“Brianna, wait...” He reached for her arm, but—
“Brianna Coleman. At last.”
She jerked her head up with a gasp.
Across the room, a man in a crisp suit sat in her father’s recliner, flanked on each side by large, frowning thugs. In a heavily accented voice, he said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter 14
Adrenaline shot through Hunter.
Get Bri out of here. Seizing Brianna’s arm, he turned and pulled her with him back out the front door.
But before he’d gone two steps, another man materialized from behind the bushes and blocked his path. “Inside,” the man ordered.
Hunter’s gaze dropped to the pistol aimed at his gut. His brain ticked, calculated. What was his play? If Brianna weren’t a factor...
But she was. She was the most important part of the equation. Protecting her, defending her. At all costs.
“Let him go,” she said, trying to move out from behind him. “He’s not part of this. You don’t need him! Please!”
When she moved into the line of fire, Hunter stretched an arm out and pushed her behind him again. “Stay back, Bri.”
“No one’s going anywhere until we talk.”
Hunter spun ninety degrees so he could see Mr. Snazzy Suit, who now stood in the front door. He edged backward, keeping Brianna behind him and dividing his gaze between the two men who had him cornered.
“Please, come inside out of the chill,” Snazzy Suit said with a European accent Hunter couldn’t quite identify. He waved a hand toward the living room. “Olaf, please.” He raised a quelling hand at the man with the gun. “Put that away. We don’t want to frighten our guests.”
“Guests?” Hunter scoffed. “
This is Brianna’s house. You’re the trespassers.”
Snazzy Suit tipped his head and furrowed his brow. “And you would be Mr. Mansfield. Hunter Mansfield. Correct?”
“Who are you?” Brianna sidestepped again, moving from behind his protective stance. “What do you want?”
“If you would?” The intruder swept an inviting hand toward the living room again. “I shall explain everything.”
When they didn’t move, Olaf stepped closer, glaring at them. “You heard him. Go!”
Hunter bristled, pulling his shoulders back as his temper rose. Sure, the other guy had a gun, but Hunter chafed at being ordered around. He didn’t do submissive, and he’d be damned if he’d roll over for these men who’d lain in wait for Brianna.
When he stood firm, meeting Olaf’s challenging glare with his own, Brianna placed a hand on his arm and whispered, “Don’t, Hunter. Let’s hear him out.”
He sent her a skeptical glance. “Bri, I have a bad feeling...” he muttered under his breath.
“Ms. Coleman, please,” Snazzy Suit urged, then said, “Prince Cristoff is with us, in a secure location.”
Brianna’s head snapped up, her eyes widening. “You have Chris? Where? Is he all right?”
The hope that lit Brianna’s face, the fear in her voice for the prince’s well-being, shouldn’t have needled Hunter. But it did. Her worry sounded like a lot more to him than platonic concern.
“We will take you to him, but first, we talk.” Again Snazzy Suit motioned for them to come inside, smiling amiably.
Brianna started into the house, and Hunter grabbed her arm. “Bri...”
“They have Chris, Hunter. I need to hear him out.” She wrenched her arm free, and Hunter had no choice but to follow her inside. His body hummed with tension, his senses all on alert.
As they entered the house, one of Snazzy Suit’s thugs took Brianna’s purse from her and tossed it onto the floor in a corner.
“Hey!” she protested with a glare.
“You won’t be needing it,” the thug coolly replied.
Frowning her discontent, Brianna took a chair across from Snazzy Suit, who resumed his post in the recliner with his thugs flanking him, as if the large chair were his throne.
Perched on the edge of her seat and leaning expectantly toward the imperious man, Brianna clipped out, “Where is Chris? Who are you?”
“My name is Senator Renaule Viktor. I am a member of the Royal Senate in Meridan. Our country is in the midst of an attempted coup, an attempt to unseat the royal family and install a new government.”
Hunter moved to Brianna’s side, standing over her with a hawklike vigilance. “We’re aware of the unrest, the rebels. They’ve sent assassins over here to kill Brianna and her—”
Brianna grabbed Hunter’s hand and squeezed hard, stopping him. She glanced up at him, a silent signal for caution in her eyes.
“Before we go further—” Brianna’s tone said she was striving for calm rationality, but Hunter heard the tremor that gave away her nerves “—I want proof that Prince Cristoff is safe. That he is really with you, really under your protection.”
“Proof?” Viktor sighed and glanced away for a moment. “Will a picture satisfy you?”
“Why can’t I talk to him?” Brianna asked, pushing the issue. “Call him? Surely there are phones—”
“Phones, yes. But reception, no.” Viktor steepled his fingers. “I’ll have a picture texted to you. How is that?”
Brianna nibbled her bottom lip. “I need to know it is a current picture.”
“Have him hold up three fingers on one hand and a fist with his other hand,” Hunter suggested.
Viktor cocked his head, his eyes wary. “Why? What is the significance of this?”
Hunter shrugged. “No significance. It’s just a random gesture. That’s the point. You relay that message, and if he complies, we know he’s all right. That he’s alive and in your custody.”
Viktor jerked a nod and sent a look to Olaf. “Send those directions to His Highness. Tell me when Prince Cristoff responds.”
Olaf pulled a phone from his breast pocket and began thumbing keys.
“Meanwhile, we talk.” Viktor drummed his fingers on the arm of the recliner. “We know that you had a love affair with His Highness the Prince last winter, Ms. Coleman. We know because His Highness revealed this to us himself. He told us this when he returned from America and spoke of changing Meridanian laws so that he could marry you.”
Brianna gasped. “Marry me?”
Hunter’s heart plunged to his toes, his worst fear confirmed. Brianna and Chris had been in love, had wanted to marry. Even if it meant changing Meridanian laws. What chance did he have against a man with that much power and position?
* * *
Brianna felt Hunter stiffen beside her. She knew how this news must have hit him, especially in light of their recent discussion about her feelings toward Chris. But this news of Chris’s intentions toward her didn’t jibe with her memory of Chris breaking up with her, walking away from her, ending things with an unquestionable finality. His lack of communication for months. Her inability to reach him in order to tell him about her pregnancy.
Did she believe this man about Chris wanting to marry her? He claimed to be a member of the Royal Senate, but she had no way to verify that claim.
“D-did the law get changed?” she asked, her heart drumming.
“Not yet. His father, King Mikhail, was pushing for the law to be enacted. The king wanted to preserve the royal succession, and Prince Cristoff, an only child, was threatening to abdicate his claim to the throne if the new law, allowing the prince to marry a foreigner, was not passed. Before the vote could be taken, King Mikhail was assassinated, and Cristoff disappeared.”
“So...” Brianna swallowed hard, fighting the swell of nausea in her gut. “If you’ve found Prince Cristoff, if he’s safe in your custody, why do you need me?”
“You were the reason he threatened to abdicate. We need Prince Cristoff—now our king in light of his father’s death—to fill the power vacuum and put down the rebellion once and for all. We need him to show strength and leadership, not vacillation, pining for an American he met while on a winter retreat.”
“So you’re reuniting us so we can marry?” Brianna shook her head, still confused. “So Chris can have both marriage and the throne?”
“That would be one solution. If the law were changed.” Viktor lifted one eyebrow. “We’d also been told you were with child. That you were carrying Cristoff’s baby.”
Brianna worked hard not to visibly react. Until she knew for certain whether she could trust these men, she couldn’t reveal anything about Ben. Beside her, Hunter remained tense, still, quiet.
A beep sounded in the taut silence, and Olaf said something to Viktor in a foreign language. Viktor waved his hand toward Brianna and Olaf stepped close, shoving his cell phone in front of her.
An image glowed on the screen. Chris. Grim-faced, but seemingly unharmed. He held up three fingers with one hand and a fist with his other, just as Hunter suggested. Proof that he was still alive and in Viktor’s custody. An odd tangle of relief and dread knotted her stomach. Though she was glad Chris was safe, she didn’t know where this situation was headed. Would she be forced to marry Chris? What would happen to Ben if she refused to be Chris’s wife?
Hunter leaned close to study the picture with her, and his proximity gave her a measure of comfort. At least she wasn’t facing all of this alone.
“Are you satisfied now that we have been truthful with you? Do we have your cooperation?” Viktor asked.
Brianna bit her bottom lip, quickly searching the picture for clues to Chris’s whereabouts. Was there evidence, as in the video he’d sent, that all was not what it seemed? The background didn’t yield
much help. He was standing in front of a generic-looking blue wall, the corner of some sort of cabinet visible at the edge of the frame. Before she could give the image any further scrutiny, Olaf snatched his phone back and thumbed the screen, likely deleting the photo, before stashing his cell phone in his breast pocket again.
She raised her gaze to the Meridanian senator and drew a slow breath. “As you can see, I’m not with child. Who told you I was?”
“Prince Cristoff for one. Some of the palace guards who saw you with Cristoff a couple of weeks ago confirmed this.”
A tingle ran down her spine. The palace guards...who’d shot at her.
Hunter straightened his back and pulled his shoulders back. “Your sources are partly right. She had a baby a few weeks ago, but Prince Cristoff is not the father. I am.”
Chapter 15
Brianna jerked her chin up, her startled gaze snapping to his. Hunter knew his move was a gamble, but he’d do whatever it took to protect Ben.
Senator Snazzy Suit gave him a skeptical, one-eyed squint. “Yours?”
“Mine. Check his birth certificate if you don’t believe me.”
Viktor’s eyes shifted to Brianna, who leveled a surprisingly steady gaze on the Meridanian senator. “The Royal Senate will require paternity tests for confirmation. With the royal succession at stake, you understand the need for verification?”
Hunter placed a hand on Brianna’s shoulder in a gesture of support and felt the small shudder that rolled through her.
Lifting her chin, she said, “My son is an American citizen, and he’s protected by American laws. You won’t touch him without my consent.”
The senator stared silently at Brianna for several seconds before exhaling harshly and nodding toward Olaf. “Perhaps you will feel differently if we give you the opportunity to talk with Prince Cristoff.”
Protecting Her Royal Baby Page 19