Pity he’d already betrayed the trust that would permit him to have, either.
* * *
Noelle couldn’t think straight with Christian and her son in the same room. Given Marc’s adverse reaction to Christian the night he’d shown up unannounced, she was worried that her son wouldn’t want to have anything to do with his father.
And that was the least of her problems.
Having a meeting with Christian’s mother sprung on her had been bad enough, but to then watch her transform from imperious queen to adoring grandmother in the space of ten minutes had made Noelle question her decision to keep Marc’s paternity a secret. Now that the truth was out, she expected the pressure to legitimize Marc by marrying Christian would increase tenfold.
Nor did it appear as if she would have a single supporter in the palace if she decided against marriage. Olivia had already said the twins would be so excited when Marc came to live in the palace, and Gabriel was obviously enjoying his nephew’s antics. The suspicion Noelle expected to encounter had been nonexistent. Everyone seemed to accept that Marc was Christian’s son.
Which meant whatever Noelle chose for her son’s future, she had no one to blame but herself for the consequences.
Her eyes hurt with the effort of keeping her gaze from devouring Christian. Whenever he was near, she had to fight to maintain a neutral demeanor. After a five-year drought, spending so much time with him was starting to eat into her willpower. It wasn’t fair how easily she regressed into familiar patterns. Back when they were lovers, she used to spend hours beside him in bed, content to work on her designs or lapse into frivolous romanticism and doodle their names, connecting the letters with intricate loops and flourishes. Looking back on it now, Noelle couldn’t believe she’d been that foolish.
“Marc,” she called, putting aside her memories of past imprudence, “come meet Prince Gabriel.”
The little boy gave a green sofa and several chairs a wide berth to avoid Christian before coming to stand at Noelle’s side and fixing solemn, unblinking eyes on the handsome, regal man beside Olivia.
Prince Gabriel put his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Marc.”
Most four-year-olds wouldn’t have known to be awed by the man who would one day rule the country, but Marc had his father’s confidence as well as his mercurial temperament.
“Nice to meet you, Prince Gabriel.”
Noelle was torn between relief and pride at her son’s exhibition of good manners, but she held her breath as he continued to speak.
“I like your palace. It’s very large. Do you ever play hide and seek?”
Prince Gabriel’s lips twitched at Marc’s earnest question, but he gave him a grave reply. “Not for many years. But my daughters are big fans of the game. Perhaps one day you can play with them.”
Marc didn’t look to Noelle for confirmation before nodding. “I’d like that.”
“Would you like to see the garden?” Olivia asked.
Christian stepped up beside his brother. “He might be interested in the stables, as well.”
“Are there pumpkins in the garden?” Marc asked, acting as if he hadn’t heard Christian. “We have three pumpkins at home, and they’re this big.” He demonstrated their size with his hands, adding about two feet to the actual diameter.
“No pumpkins, I’m afraid,” Olivia said, glancing from Christian to Noelle. “But we have a pond with goldfish.”
Noticing Christian’s taut expression, Noelle said, “Marc, why don’t you let Princess Olivia show you the pond and I’ll be out in a little bit.”
With an excited roar, Marc raced toward the French doors, Olivia and Gabriel trailing behind. As the trio exited the room, Noelle’s tension ratcheted upward. A muscle bunched in Christian’s jaw as he tracked Marc’s rambunctious dash across the lush, verdant lawn until he was out of sight. At last his hard gaze swung to Noelle.
“What have you said to my son to make him hate me?”
She wasn’t surprised by Christian’s question. “I haven’t told him anything at all about you.”
“Not even that I’m his father?”
Noelle sighed. “No, not yet. I’ve always said that I never told his father about him because I liked our family just as it was.”
“And he was satisfied with that?” Christian sounded skeptical.
“He’s four. For the moment it’s enough.” Noelle knew her son’s innate curiosity wouldn’t allow him to let the matter drop indefinitely. “He doesn’t hate you,” she added.
“Then why is it he gives me a wide berth?”
“You weren’t exactly charming when you showed up unannounced at my home.”
“I was upset to discover you’d been hiding a son from me all these years.”
“I wasn’t hiding him.” Noelle blinked in surprise as she took in Christian’s bitterness. “You would have known about him if you’d ever bothered to contact me in the months following our breakup.” She fumbled over the last word.
His dismissal of her hadn’t felt like a true breakup. He hadn’t said he was unhappy with their relationship or that he wanted to see other people. He’d just told her to take the job she’d been offered at Matteo Pizarro Designs in Paris. After she’d given him her heart and two years of her life, he’d not been the least bit regretful that she’d be moving so far away nor had he offered to keep in touch.
“See, you are still angry with me,” he said, pointing a taunting finger at her. “And you’re inferring I didn’t want to be a part of his life.”
Yes, she’d been hurt by his rejection, but that was five years ago. Granted, it still rankled her, but had she turned her son against his father without meaning to? Uncertainty put her on the defensive.
“You don’t know me at all if you think that.” The man was an insufferable egotist. “And may I point out that simply by your absence you’ve become alienated from Marc.”
“Did you ever try to contact me?” Christian persisted. “To let me know you were pregnant?”
“To what end? You made it pretty clear you were finished with me.” She shook her head, throat contracting in remembered pain. “And if I had, what would you have done? When would you have found time between work and play to be a father?” She was warming to her argument now. “Marc deserves someone who will be there for him all the time not when it fits into his schedule.”
“Someone like Coomb?” Christian grabbed her bare right hand and held it up. “Where’s your engagement ring, Noelle?”
