And now, thanks to his discovery of their son, she was back in his life. He ached with joy and dread.
Showing up on her doorstep last night had been a return to old patterns. When they’d been together before, he’d often popped by unannounced late at night after the clubs closed.
He’d met her at the café near his apartment where she waitressed. Unlike most of the women he flirted with, she hadn’t been intrigued by his title or swayed by his charm. She’d treated him with such determined professionalism that he’d been compelled to pursue her relentlessly until she agreed to see him outside of work.
They didn’t date. Not in a traditional sense. She was too serious to enjoy his frivolous lifestyle and too sensible to fit in with his superficial friends. But she was exactly what he needed. Her apartment became his refuge. When they finally became lovers, after being friends for six months, she was more familiar to him than any woman he’d ever known.
Not that this had stopped him from taking her for granted, first as a friend and confidante, and then as the woman who came alive in his arms.
Christian closed his eyes and settled his head back against the brick facade of his apartment. The breath he blew out didn’t ease the tightness in his chest or relax the clenched muscles of his abdomen.
Last night he’d suggested that they should marry. The ease with which the words had slipped off his tongue betrayed the fact that his subconscious was already plotting. Speaking with her at the party had obviously started something brewing. Why not marry Noelle? The notion made sense even before he’d found out about Marc.
Years before they’d been good together. Or at least she’d been good for him. Sexually they’d been more than compatible. She’d been a drug in his system. One he’d tried numerous times to purge with no luck.
Discovering they’d created a child together, a much-needed potential heir to the throne, pretty much cemented his decision to make her his princess. He didn’t need to scour Europe trying to find his future wife. She was right under his nose.
He should have felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but long ago he’d developed a conscience where Noelle was concerned. After the way he’d broken things off five years ago, she didn’t want him anywhere near her. Persuading her to marry him would take time, and once the media got wind of his interest, they would interfere at every turn.
He’d have to work fast. She’d loved him once. A few intimate dinners to remind her of their crazy-hot chemistry and she’d be putty in his hands. Christian shoved aside a twinge of guilt. Being cavalier about seducing Noelle was not in keeping with the man he’d become these past few years. Scheming was something he reserved for business dealings.
Christian headed inside to shower and get dressed. For his country and his family, he had to convince Noelle to marry him. If it benefited him in the process, so much the better.
An extravagant arrangement of two dozen long-stemmed red roses awaited Noelle in her office at the back of her small dress shop in Sherdana’s historic city center. Coffee in hand, she stopped dead just inside the door and sucked in the rich, sweet scent of the enormous blossoms. She plucked a small white envelope from the bouquet, but didn’t need to read the card to know the sender. The scarlet blooms signaled Christian’s intent to stir up her quiet, perfectly ordered world.
Knowing she would get nothing accomplished with the roses dominating her efficient gold-and-cream space, Noelle called her assistant.
“Please get these out of here.” Noelle waved her hand dismissively. When curiosity lit Jeanne’s eyes, Noelle realized she’d let her irritation show.
Jeanne scooped the vase off the low coffee table. “Should I put them in the reception room?”
Noelle wanted to tell Jeanne to drop them into the trash out back. “Why don’t you put them in the workroom? That way the seamstresses could enjoy the flowers.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave them here? They’re so beautiful.”
Noelle’s temper flared, sharp and acidic. Lack of sleep and frayed nerves were to blame for her reaction. She shook her head and strove to keep her voice calm as she tried to put a positive spin on her request. “Everyone has been working so hard. The flowers are for all of us,” she lied, feeling only the mildest twinge of guilt at deceiving her employee.
Once the flowers were gone, Noelle opened her office window to the beautiful morning and let in the fresh air, but after an hour she could swear the scent of the roses remained. Restless and edgy, Noelle slid her sketchbook into her briefcase. She would go to her favorite café and work on the designs for next winter’s collection.
The bell on the front door jangled, announcing a visitor. Because of her location among the quaint shops in the historic district, occasionally someone passing by would pop in, stirred by curiosity. Noelle’s shop carried no ready to wear wedding dresses, but because her wealthy clientele could often be difficult to please, she had several bridal gowns on hand that had been rejected for one reason or another.
Jeanne’s greeting carried down the hall as she approached whoever had entered the shop. Noelle gathered several pencils and froze in the act of dropping them into her briefcase. A deep voice rumbled in response to her assistant’s inquiring tone. The pencils clattered as they fell from Noelle’s nerveless fingers. Strong footsteps rang on the wood floor of the narrow hallway leading to her office. Feeling much like a cornered cat, Noelle glanced up and saw Christian’s imposing shoulders filling the doorway.
Cross that he’d followed up the flower delivery with a personal appearance, she spoke with unusual bluntness. “You were supposed to call me at ten not show up unannounced.”
“I came to see if you liked the roses.” He took in her pristine office and frowned. “Didn’t you receive them?”
“Yes. I put them in the workroom for my employees to enjoy.”
Not one muscle twitched in his face to betray his reaction, but she could tell her answer displeased him. She hated the way guilt rushed through her.
“I sent them to you.”
All the time they’d been together, he’d never once given her flowers. She’d understood her role in his life. First as a sounding board for all his frustrations and woes. Eventually, she’d become his lover, a convenient one that he could drop in on whenever he was feeling lonely or in need of comfort. She’d made no demands, expected nothing, and he’d given her mind-blowing sex in return. To be fair, while they’d been physically intimate she’d also enjoyed a great deal of emotional intimacy, as well. But out of bed, Christian donned the charming persona he maintained to keep people at bay.
The roses had reminded her how susceptible she’d once been to his charm. What if nothing had changed in the past five years? She needed to determine if she could trust her head to guide her. He mustn’t be allowed to think he could sway her with romantic gestures. For gestures were all they were.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” He crossed the threshold, crowding her office with his powerful presence.
“Why should I?” Noelle liked having her elegant desk as a buffer between them, but didn’t want her entire staff hearing this conversation. Stepping out from behind the desk, she gestured Christian away from the door and closed it, trapping them together in the small space. “Five years ago you wanted nothing more to do with me. Now, you’re desperate for an heir and you want my son.”
“You forget that I came to see you last night knowing nothing about Marc,” he grumbled in his deep, beguiling voice. His intent was clear. He intended to throw every trick in his abundant arsenal at her. “I saw you at the wedding and knew I’d made a mistake letting you go all those years ago.”
His claim was so ridiculous