The Prince's Scandalous Baby (13 page)

NINETEEN

There was no one in the lounge save for the King. All other guests must have been a turned away—a bit of an inconvenience to paying customers, Juliette thought. She wondered if the King had thought of that, or if he had any concept whatsoever of what ordinary people wanted.

She was glad for Giancarlo’s hand in hers. It felt firm and strong, and it gave her strength.

Looking around the room, she could see that she’d been mistaken; there were no other customers, sure, but there were some of those same near-invisible servants that the King had had with him at the palace. Here, as there, they seemed almost to blend into the walls, blank expressions on their faces.

“Father,” Giancarlo said. “Funny, I didn’t know you were traveling today.”

The King gave a sneer. “This is a joke to you, is it?”

Giancarlo didn’t lose his calm air. At least, not on the surface. Juliette could only imagine how he might feel underneath.

“You’re here for what? To talk me out of leaving?”

The King seemed unprepared for this response; however their conversations might have gone in the past, Juliette thought, it was probably very different than this.

“I’m here to get you to stop this insanity. Do you know what the media are saying? You running off with this
American
…”

He said the word as though it were a curse, and Juliette felt Giancarlo’s hand squeeze hers in solidarity.

“That’s just like you, Father. You know that? I figured that the first thing you would care about was how it was playing in the press. Not losing your only son, and your first grandchild. No, of course, never that.”

The King rolled his eyes, and Juliette had to stop herself from laughing. He’d been such an imposing figure when he’d intimidated her at the palace. But here, he’d momentarily been transformed into a teenage girl in a ‘90s sitcom, with exaggerated emotions and even more exaggerated views.

“Oh, spare me your threats. You’re not going anywhere today, and we both know it. This is just your way of acting out. You and I both know that, deep down, you are too reasonable to throw your life away on some one night stand that you happened to knock up—if she’s even telling the truth.”

At that, Juliette’s eyes shot to Giancarlo. His calm was no longer absolute. She could tell that the King’s words were riling him.

He let go of Juliette’s hand and strode towards his father, towering over the older man like an angry giant.

“You think you can say these things about the woman I love?”

The King was beginning to falter now.

“I’m saying these things about the woman my son is throwing away his life for.”

And, with that, Giancarlo had no words. He just turned on his heel, and began walking away.

Before Juliette turned to join him, she shot one last look at the King’s face. There was disbelief written there, as well as anger, and something else Juliette couldn’t quite identify.

“Are you really going to choose some girl you barely know over your own blood? You’re going to get yourself disinherited just because you think you feel something for some foreign woman?”

The words his them just as they were about to go through the door of the lounge. Juliette stifled the urge to turn and look again. She saw Giancarlo do the same.

“I’m choosing to leave with my family,” came Giancarlo’s cool reply. “Whatever that means for you, that’s your business.”

And, with that, Giancarlo grabbed Juliette’s hand and walked through the door, back out into the bustling airport terminal.

They walked quickly to their gate, Juliette trying to catch her breath. She was beginning to doubt herself.

“Should we stop?” she asked, as the gravity of what Giancarlo was giving up began to sink in.

But he shook his head. When he replied, he kept his voice low, so that the people around couldn’t hear them. It was easy to tell that, even here, where people had things to do and places to be, they were drawing attention.

“No, we shouldn’t. We should never stop. If he doesn’t accept you, then I don’t accept him. That’s the way it has to be. If he comes to change his mind one day, so be it. But I’m not changing mine.”

And, with those words, Juliette felt a warmth begin to spread throughout her body. As they walked to their gate it spread to every part of her, making her feel safe, and happy and secure.

He meant it. She’d seen him lie, and she’d seen him telling the truth. Whatever else may happen, whatever they may encounter in their travels, she could always be certain of that.

She tried to put the King behind her. It was difficult. As they walked through the terminal, she kept catching snippets of all the little things about Italy that she loved—the language, most of all—and would never get to see again. Not if the King and her formerly-royal boyfriend had such a rift between them.

She tried to focus on the future. Morocco lay ahead of them, and who knew what that might bring. They reached the gate, and found somewhere to sit and wait until their flight started boarding. Juliette was hungry, but was still too excited and disturbed by the events in the VIP lounge to eat.

It felt like they were running. They were running towards something, perhaps, but they were also running away. And, even though she had deep confidence and trust in the man she was running with, that feeling still bothered her.

She thought it might go away when they were on the plane. When it was irreversible, maybe, and they were well and truly underway. She kept looking at her watch, counting down the minutes until she could feel at ease.

Giancarlo kept shooting her reassuring glances, which she was grateful for. Of all the people in the world, of course he would be able to pick up on how uncomfortable she was feeling.

For her part, Juliette didn’t want to talk to him about anything other than what had just happened, and they weren’t in a position to talk about such a private and sensitive matter in public.

So instead, in between the glances he gave her and the glances she gave the clock, she looked at the other people waiting at the gate. Watching their lives made her feel a bit more at ease in her own skin. Right up until the moment when she began seeing a mix of excitement and panic in their faces. Someone was coming.

She whipped her head around to see what the other passengers were looking at. There, along with a few members of his security team, was the King—looking a great deal more regal than he had back in the VIP lounge. He had his public smile on, and his arms open wide as though he were a kind father about to hug everyone in the terminal. When he addressed the crowd at large, the tone of his voice was much kinder than Juliette remembered it sounding.

“Everyone, I am sorry for the inconvenience. For those of you who may not know, I am King Rafaele of Campania, and this morning you will all be sharing a plane with my son, the Prince.”

At these words, the few passengers who had not realized who Giancarlo was looked around and then giggled to each other, suitably impressed.

“My son is taking a trip with his…”

At this, the King seemed to stumble, unsure of how exactly to refer to Juliette. She braced herself for a public and embarrassing insult, but, when he continued, she was pleasantly surprised.

“…lady love. They left in a hurry, and I unfortunately did not get a chance to wish my son goodbye.”

Juliette almost couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes the same way the King had earlier. So this was how he was going to play it, was it?

“And so, if you would all be so kind as to leave the gate for a few moments, so that I may speak to my son in private, I would consider it a great favor.”

If they were in the States, Juliette thought, there would doubtless be a wisecracker in the group who asked why
they
couldn’t just go somewhere private instead of making everyone else move. As it was, though, there were a few grumbles, but people got up and moved.

With the other passengers having moved away, the three of them were alone in the enclosed gate area, except for a few flight attendants waiting to board, who all suddenly appeared very interested in something on their screens.

“Don’t make a scene, Father. They can still see us. And that’s what you care about, isn’t it? What they see?”

The tone was friendly, and Giancarlo’s face betrayed no sign that he was angry, despite his words.

For the King’s part, he didn’t seem to rise to the challenge.

“I probably deserve that.”

He looked like he was about to say more, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he shifted his focus to Juliette. He walked over to her, and Juliette felt powerless to stop him as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. He spoke to her in English, and she appreciated, now, how much friendlier his tone was.

“And you, Miss Combs. I believe I owe you an apology. As you are soon to be a parent, I think you will understand the desperation one can feel to protect one’s children. Sometimes, however, the best way to do this is not always clear.”

Juliette was at a loss. On the one hand, she’d spent the time since they left the lounge heading slowly towards the realization that a reconciliation between father and son would be best for her, and for Giancarlo, and for their child. On the other hand, she couldn’t be sure if the man standing in front of her was being entirely sincere.

“You’re sure that’s all it was?” she said, trying to make her face the perfect mask of public politeness that the two men with her seemed to have mastered.

The King’s lip twitched once, and he paused for a second. But then he continued, still with that same smile on his face. “I suppose you are right. My desire to protect my son may have been at the heart of it, but even though I am a king, I am still human. And some human…” he searched with the word in English for a moment “
…pettiness
may have gotten in the way of that. I suppose, in many ways, I can be a petty man.”

She smiled, trying not to show the jubilation she felt that the King of Campania has just apologized to her. And, though his regal persona was still intact, Juliette could see beneath it that some burden had been lifted off of him with her smile.

With this momentum, the King turned his attention to his son. His façade faltered just slightly as he prepared for what he knew he needed to say.

“My son, I owe an apology to you, as well. Although I fear that here and now is not the place to make a complete apology for all that I’ve done. And I’m afraid that I may never be able to say the things you want me to say in the way you want me to say them. I am an old man. Or, at least, I’m starting to feel that way. And how things were done in my day…”

He trailed off, lost in the train of thought. His public façade had almost melted off him while he’d been speaking, and Juliette could see that the onlookers at the glass walls around the gate were able to tell.

“Father,” Giancarlo interrupted, his face a mix of embarrassment and compassion, but the King held up a hand.

“No, there are some things I need to say. I need to say that I was wrong. You are my son, and you are a prince. Of course you should be able to fall in love with any woman you desire. I confess to thinking it more likely that you would just choose a great many women, and not just settle down with one… that is a situation I know how to handle.
This
is not. I handled it poorly. There have been other times in the past where I have not treated you the way you deserved. And for that, I apologize.”

This was about as close as the man would ever get to groveling, Juliette realized. His face was still haughty. He still held himself up straight as a rail. He still looked, for all the world, like the proud king he was. But looking into his eyes, and listening to his words, Juliette could see more. She could see a father, afraid of losing his son. She could see a man who was prone to acting rashly for the sake of his child—not so unlike the man she’d fallen in love with.