Protecting Her Royal Baby Page 7

  “I was selling my car?”

  Hunter nodded. “Seems so. The paperwork was all on your kitchen table.”

  “Oh.” She grunted and glanced at the phone again. The last message was a video sent via text message.

  Curious, she opened the video, then gasped as a man filled the screen. Chris. Or rather, Prince Cristoff. “Oh, my God, it’s him!”

  She waved a hand at Hunter, motioning for him to come closer and watch with her.

  “Who?” he asked as he leaned close to see her phone. When he recognized the face, he shifted closer still, his body bumping hers, his head so close she could smell the toothpaste on his breath. “Start it over and turn up the volume.”

  She did as Hunter suggested, and with him hovering next to her, they watched Prince Cristoff smile stiffly from the tiny screen.

  “Hi, Brianna. It’s Chris.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” Pause. Deep sigh. “Let me start by apologizing for the scene at your house the other day. I know my news came as a big shock, and then to have those men storm in...well, I’m sure it was terrifying for you. I’m sorry.”

  On some level, Brianna acknowledged the apology, the admission that there had been an incident that precipitated her sense of danger, but at the moment, she was preoccupied with Hunter’s nearness. The sound of his breathing beside her ear, his body heat wrapping around her, his wide chest nudging her arm as he leaned close to study the small phone screen. He had a raw sensuality about him that she shouldn’t be noticing one day after giving birth. To another man’s baby. A man still speaking to her from her phone...

  “I never wanted you to be caught up in the politics of my life. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell you who I was.” His gaze darted away from the camera briefly, then back. “Look, here’s the thing. I know you’ve heard the reports by now about what’s happened in Meridan. The men who came to your house were sent by the palace police to protect me. They misread the situation at your house and assumed you were a threat.”

  Hunter grunted, and she felt the vibration from his chest against her back. A heady tingle answered and reverberated through her, all the way to her toes. She drew a deep breath, hoping to clear her head and focus on the video, but the tantalizing woodsy scent that clung to Hunter filled her nose and upped the coil of awareness in her core.

  “I set them straight,” Chris was saying, “and I’m now under their protection. Because of the sensitive nature of the situation in my country, I’m asking you not to call the American police. Please. That’s very important. This needs to stay quiet. I’ve...gone into hiding until further notice and...” Another sigh. “I want you to be safe. I want you to join me here, where my guards can help protect you. And our baby when he arrives.”

  A pang shot through her. So Chris knew about the baby, knew it was his. Now he should be told of the baby’s arrival...if she could find him.

  Chris’s brow furrowed. “You’ll both be taken care of, and we can be together again. As a family. Like we planned. Like we dreamed of that night at the coast. Remember? We had your favorite dinner—grilled shrimp and scallops.”

  Hunter shifted slightly, clearly unhappy with Chris’s familiarity in his reminiscence. But why shouldn’t Chris be nostalgic? They’d obviously cared about each other if they made a baby together. And according to Chris, they’d planned to have a family, to be together long-term.

  “Think about that night, and then join me here in New Orleans.” Chris gave the address of a hotel near the French Quarter, and Hunter wrote it down.

  “That’s all, Brianna. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

  The video ended, and Brianna lowered her phone. Her head buzzed with all the tidbits the video added to the puzzle. First and foremost, confirmation that she’d remembered correctly her relationship with Prince Cristoff. Confirmation that she was embroiled in an international political intrigue. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow.” Hunter dragged a hand over his mouth and chin, and his palm made a light rasping sound as it scraped across his stubble.

  The subtle noise skittered down her spine, and her skin tingled as if anticipating the sensation of that bristle brushing against her fingers, her cheek, her breasts. A steamy image followed the thought, and her mouth dried.

  Stop it! She gritted her teeth and focused on the issue at hand. Prince Cristoff. Meeting in New Orleans.

  “Do you think I should go? If I am in danger and he has guards who can protect me and Ben...” Her sentence trailed off when she raised her gaze to Hunter’s and met his bright blue eyes. Gracious, but he’s handsome!

  “May I?” He reached for her phone, then sat on the edge of her bed, giving her a little more space, as he replayed the message from Chris.

  “Well?” she prompted when he was silent for several seconds after the second viewing.

  “I’m not sure you should race off to New Orleans quite yet.”

  “Why?”

  “For starters, you just had a baby, you have a concussion with memory loss, and your body needs time to heal.”

  She gave a small nod of agreement, but inside, a flutter of expectation and longing stirred in her. If she didn’t go to New Orleans to meet Chris, did that mean she’d have more time with Hunter? And why was it she preferred Hunter’s company, Hunter’s protection over what Chris was offering? Prince Cristoff had power and connections. Hunter had only his good intentions and personal strength.

  “But beyond that,” Hunter continued, “something about this video bothers me. I can’t put my finger on it yet, but—” He twisted his mouth in consternation.

  In the plastic hospital bassinet by her bed, Ben stirred, making a squeaky whining sound that arrowed straight to her heart. She glanced at her son, enamored with every wiggle and mewl. “And Ben’s so small. I can’t imagine traveling with a newborn is wise.”

  Hunter handed her back her phone and rose from the bed. “Want me to get him for you?”

  She smiled and put the phone on her bed tray. “Would you?”

  “Sure.” He stepped around the end of the bed and smiled at Ben as he reached into the bassinet. “Hey, fella. Don’t fuss. Mom’s right here.” He lifted her son without the awkwardness or hesitation she would have thought a bachelor would. His large hands skillfully splayed behind Ben’s head and lower back, tucking him safely against his body to carry her son to her hospital bed. Hunter’s grin lingered, and his eyes were bright as he studied Ben’s face, which was red and scrunched up as he whined. Ben’s crying didn’t have Hunter panicking or irritated. He looked so at ease, so natural with Ben, that Brianna’s throat tightened with awe and regret. What would her life be like if Hunter were the father of her child instead of some stranger who’d apparently abandoned her after their affair? And why was it she felt this longing and connection to Hunter, who was, in fact, a stranger to her, as well?

  “You seem so comfortable with him,” she said as Hunter settled Ben in her arms. “I’d have thought most men would hold a baby more like a dirty diaper or ticking time bomb.”

  A warm chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I used to. But in recent years, my brothers have given me three nieces to practice on, one of whom I helped with from the day she was born.”

  No sooner had Hunter arranged Ben in her arms than her cell phone began playing a perky country song. The caller ID read Robyn Elyse Rosenberg. As she carefully rearranged Ben to free one hand, Hunter pointed to the phone. “Want me to get that or take the baby?”

  She shook her head. “I have to learn to juggle it all if I’m going to raise this rascal on my own.” She thumbed the “Answer call” spot on the screen. “Hello?”

  “Hi, darling. Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was with a patient. How are you feeling?”

  She tried to decipher the nature of her relationship with the woman from context clues. Darling indicated a f
amilial connection or close friend, but the comment about the patient could mean Ms. Rosenberg was her doctor. “Uh, pretty good. Sore.” Brianna paused, then added, “I’m in the hospital. I had my baby.”

  Robyn Elyse Rosenberg gave a loud cry of delight. “Oh, Bri, darling, how wonderful! Are you both all right? Boy or girl? Details. I want details!”

  Brianna filled the woman in on the birth, still feeling awkward about the blank in her memory about who the woman was.

  “You had him yesterday? Why didn’t you call my office? You know I’d have dropped everything to come be with you.”

  Brianna gave a wry grin she knew the woman couldn’t see. “That’s the thing. I didn’t know that. I hit my head in a car accident. I don’t remember anything about my life. I was brought to the hospital in labor from the car accident.”

  “Oh, my goodness! Brianna, how awful!”

  “So...could you tell me who you are to me? How do we know each other?”

  After a beat of stunned silence, Robyn said, “I’m your mother’s only sister, your aunt Robyn, honey. You really don’t remember anything?”

  Brianna fingered the edge of the bedsheet. “I really don’t.”

  “Well,” Robyn said with purpose in her tone, “I’ll fill in as many blanks for you as I can when I come see that precious baby. But not now. I have to go. Full schedule of surgeries this afternoon.”

  “So...you’re a doctor?”

  Her aunt chuckled. “You really have lost your memory. No. No M.D. after my name. I’m a surgical nurse. In Houston.” She grunted. “Listen, sweetie, we’ll cover it all when I get there. Take care and kiss that little boy for me. Bye!”

  “I—” Her phone beeped and “Call ended” lit the screen. “Bye,” Brianna said with a twitch of her lips. She glanced to Hunter. “So my mother’s sister, Robyn Elyse Rosenberg, is a surgical nurse in Houston. She says she’s coming to see the baby, but didn’t say when.”

  Hunter’s face brightened. “So you do have family, someone who can help you with the baby, help you remember your past. That’s great!”

  His wide smile and obvious relief caused a funny tug under her ribs. Though she, too, was pleased to learn she had family, she could tell Hunter saw Aunt Robyn as his escape hatch. He was loyal enough and compassionate enough to stay with her as long as she seemed to be alone in the world, but his kindness had to have its limits. Hunter couldn’t stick around until Ben left for college. As much as she enjoyed Hunter’s company, she had to let him go. She needed to stand on her own two feet, amnesia or not, and figure out how to care for and protect her son on her own.

  The idea of protecting her son from political militants seesawed in her gut. She was out of her league there. Chris could help, but she was in no condition to travel alone with a small baby for several days. Maybe a couple of weeks.

  She just prayed she could keep a low profile, regain her memories regarding Chris and figure out what to do about her royal baby before the people responsible for the bullet holes in her car caught up with her.

  Chapter 6

  The next afternoon, the staff doctor consulted her chart, then divided a look between Hunter and Brianna. “Obstetrically, I see no reason why you can’t go home this evening, but I’m still concerned about that knock on your head. It will take a while to heal fully, but I’m willing to sign your release papers, provided you have someone stay with you around the clock for the first week or so.” He looked straight at Hunter. “That means, if you don’t get paternity leave, you’ll need someone to cover for you when you go to work.”

  Paternity leave. Hunter swallowed hard, remembering he’d told the hospital he was Brianna’s husband when she’d been brought in. And he’d been by her side since the baby was born. Of course, the doctor would assume he was Ben’s daddy. Not for the first time, Hunter’s gut somersaulted at the idea of being a father, even a pretend one. A doting uncle was one thing, but a dad?

  “Oh. He’s not—” Brianna started, and he jumped in.

  “Not going to leave my wife unattended. No, sir.” He shot Brianna an “I got this” smile and a silencing, raised-eyebrow stare.

  “Good.” The doctor checked his notes, then launched into an explanation of how to sterilize bottles and nipples for feeding Ben and the importance of keeping the baby in a germ-free environment for the first several weeks.

  Brianna frowned and interrupted the man, “Um, sorry to stop you, but...you do remember from medical school that there isn’t such a thing as a truly sanitary home environment, right? Microorganisms are everywhere, and not all of them are bad. A person’s immunity is built because of the presence of microorganisms in the body.”

  “Uh...well, yes, but—”

  “As far as sterilizing bottles...as soon as you remove the bottle from the sterilizing bath and it is exposed to the air, it will technically be unsterile again. And once it touches another surface—” She stopped midsentence, blinked and divided a glance between Hunter and the doctor, who’d folded his arms over his chest and now studied her with a cocked head.

  She grimaced and sent the doctor a rueful look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’ll be careful about germs, of course, but...NIH studies have shown that children overprotected from microbes have higher levels of IgE antibodies later in life and suffer more allergies. If children aren’t exposed to common illnesses as children, they never develop an immunity to common germs and may be sicker as adults.”

  The doctor narrowed his eyes. “And you know this because...?”

  Hunter was wondering the same thing. He remembered the scientific journals he’d seen at her house. Obviously they weren’t just for show. She read those journals.

  She sat back in the bed and stammered, “I...I don’t know. It just...came to me as I listened to you.”

  The doctor twisted his mouth. “Interesting. Perhaps this is an indication that your memory is returning. And you’re technically correct. But let’s keep the little one healthy for the first couple of months until his body develops the strength to fight the bad germs. Deal?”

  She nodded. “Right, of course.”

  “Okay, then, moving on.” The doctor looked down as he scribbled his signature on Brianna’s release form and continued with his checklist. “Mom, no driving for two weeks. No lifting anything heavier than the baby. No strenuous exercise until your regular doctor releases you for that, and—” he paused again and aimed his pen at Hunter “—no sex for at least six weeks.”

  Hunter blinked and shifted awkwardly on the chair. “I—”

  “I mean it. I hear stories from new moms all the time about getting flak from their husbands, pressure to fudge on that six-week restriction.” The doctor narrowed his gaze on Hunter. “No sex for six weeks. Got it?”

  “Uh...” Just like that, an image of him tangling his naked body with Brianna’s flashed in vibrant color and clarity in his mind’s eye. Heat swept through him, and he cut a glance toward the bed, where Brianna gaped back at him. Her cheeks had flushed, and she nervously licked her lips, drawing his attention to their plump, bow-shaped perfection.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Do you understand?”

  Hunter jerked his focus back to the man in the white lab coat and raised his hands as if surrendering. “Yeah. Sure. Six weeks. Got it.”

  The doctor stepped closer to the side of the bed and, in a lower volume, addressed Brianna directly about medications, hygiene issues and follow-up appointments.

  His head buzzing with adrenaline, Hunter leaned back in the chair and swiped a hand over his face. Sex with Brianna? Thanks for putting that picture in my brain, Doc. As if he wasn’t having a hard enough time keeping his thoughts about the beautiful new mother on a gentlemanly track.

  Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and scoffed at himself. Yeah, right. You didn’t need
the doctor’s warning to push your mind into the bedroom. His thoughts had never been far from that erotic path since he’d first looked in the window of her overturned car and had been poleaxed by her gorgeous eyes and stunning face. Knowing the gentle soul behind her appearance only made his attraction to her stronger. An attraction he needed to rein in and get over if he didn’t want to get his heart squashed down the road.

  Brianna’s son was heir to the throne of Meridan, for cripes’ sake. She’d had a relationship with a prince. She had a life in a palace waiting for her, with wealth and bodyguards and all the best life had to offer, thanks to Ben’s royal heritage. He was crazy to think she’d ever settle for a construction foreman from Lagniappe, Louisiana. Disappointment plucked at him, but coming in second was nothing new for Hunter. Being the youngest brother to two high-achieving, good-looking Mansfield men often meant being overlooked or getting hand-me-downs.

  “All right, then,” the doctor said as he handed Brianna her discharge paperwork. “The records department has the little guy’s birth certificate ready for you to verify and sign, and then you’re free to go. I’ll send an orderly in with a wheelchair.” He leaned over Ben’s bassinet, and a grin curled his lips. “Take care of your mama, sport.” As he slipped out the door, he gave a small wave to Brianna and Hunter. “Congratulations, you two.”

  Brianna slanted a glance toward Hunter. “Sorry about that.”

  “About what?” Hunter pushed out of the chair and started gathering the items the hospital was sending home for Ben. Hunter was well versed in hospital discharges, having helped Darby, his best friend and now his sister-in-law, with his niece’s many stays in the hospital during her battle with cancer.

  “The awkwardness when the doctor assumed you were my husband. The...sex stuff.” Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink again.

  A woman shuffled in, giving a sharp rap on the door, and she held a clipboard out to Brianna. “Ma’am, if you’ll just read over this and sign at the bottom. Please check the spelling and dates for accuracy. I’ll be back in a moment to collect it.”