“And now you’re not?”
“I think Gabriel and Olivia’s news might have allowed us to dodge a bullet.”
“How so?”
“You didn’t really want to get married, and now you don’t have to. Marc is your son. As he gets a little older, we can figure out a visitation schedule that enables you to see as much of him as makes sense.”
“And in the meantime?” Christian was having a hard time keeping his rising anger out of his tone. “Am I supposed to just let you take Marc to New York and not see my son?”
“No, of course not. I’ll have to travel back and forth between New York and Europe. I have many clients on this side of the Atlantic whom I can’t afford to neglect. But I’ll be creating a collection to show at New York Fashion Week in February that will kick off my ready-to-wear line and I’ll probably be spending the bulk of my time in America leading up to it.”
“Marc should stay here with me.” It’s not what Christian had intended to suggest. He couldn’t imagine living without Noelle or his son, but once again he’d used Marc as a decoy to distract her from the full scope of his emotions.
“I can’t leave him in Sherdana. I’m all he’s known his whole life. He’s too young to understand why his mother is leaving him.”
“You don’t take him with you every time you travel for business. We’ll start small. How long are you going to be in New York next week?”
“A few days.”
“That’s perfect.”
“No.”
“You go to New York and meet with your investor while I stay here and take care of Marc. If we’d gotten married, it’s what would have eventually happened. The only difference is the lack of a legal document.”
She gave a soft gasp. “A custody agreement?”
“A marriage license.” Christian stopped the car in front of Noelle’s shop and put it in Park. Turning in his seat, he took her hand that held the ring and opened her fingers. “I’m not giving up on the idea of marrying you,” he said, slipping the diamond onto her right hand. “Take this ring as a sign of my faith in us as a couple and as a family.”
“I’ll wear it until I return from New York. At that point we will sit down and discuss what’s best for Marc and for you and me.”
Which meant he had a little more than a week to convince her to go forward with their plans to get married. If he hoped to convince her they belonged together, he’d better pull out all the stops. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting her go a second time.
* * *
The morning she was scheduled to leave for New York, Noelle woke with her stomach twisted into knots. She was about to embark on the most ambitious project of her career. To fail would mean she’d not only risked damaging her reputation as a designer and a businesswoman, but had created a rift between Christian and her for nothing.
She’d decided not to leave Marc at home with either his father or her mother. This wasn’t a two-day hop to Paris or Milan. This was a ten-hour plane ride and an ocean between them. Her son didn’t share her anxiety about their separation. Taking him with her meant Marc would be missing a field trip to the zoo. He’d protested vehemently, and reminding him that they’d visited less than a month ago had only made things worse.
“Marc, please go upstairs and brush your teeth. You must get dressed. The car will be here any moment to take us to the airport.” She turned to her mother. “Why is he being like this?”
“He doesn’t want to go. Why don’t you leave him with me? He shouldn’t be stuck in a hotel room in New York while you’re working.”
While a part of Noelle knew her mother was right, she couldn’t quell her uneasiness at the thought of leaving him behind. She’d made arrangements for a nanny to stay with Marc while she conducted business, but didn’t know if she was comfortable letting the woman roam around the city alone with him.
A knock sounded on the door. The car she’d arranged to take her and Marc to the airport had finally arrived.
“Marc, the car is here. There is no more time for games.” She experienced an uncharacteristic longing to bury her face in her hands and cry. “Mama, can you get him upstairs to change?”
Still in his pajamas, Marc was running the circle from the kitchen, through the dining room, into the living room and back to the kitchen, arms held out, pretending he was an airplane. Noelle glanced at the clock. She wore no makeup, had thrown her hair into a damp updo because tussling with Marc had robbed her of the time to dry it, and her blouse was stained with syrup.
Noelle went to answer the door and discovered not a driver, but Christian standing on her steps. His eyes narrowed when he caught sight of her, and she realized he’d never seen her in such disarray.
She gestured him in. “Good morning, Christian. Please come in. There’s coffee in the kitchen.” Behind her came Marc’s protesting wail and her mother’s warning tone. “As you can tell, my household is in chaos and I’m running late. I thought you were the driver I hired to take us to the airport. He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”
Rather than walk past her, Christian backed her against the entry wall and cupped her face in gentle hands. Her muscles went limp as his lips covered hers. The kiss was tender and full of longing. She opened to him, sliding her hands into his hair to keep their mouths fused together.
A low groan built in her chest. It was the first time he’d touched her like this since she’d broken off their engagement, and she felt like a spring flower coming to life after a long, harsh winter.
“Prince Papa.” Marc’s slippered feet thudded down the hall toward them.
Christian broke off the kiss and surveyed Noelle with enigmatic eyes before turning to scoop his son off the floor and lift him high above his head.
While her son shrieked in delight, Noelle put a hand to her chest and snatched several seconds to recover. In the long years apart from him, she’d forgotten that being kissed by Christian was an excellent way to begin her day.
As Christian set Marc back on his feet, Noelle nudged her son toward Mara. “Marc, please go upstairs with Nana and get dressed so we can be ready to leave if the car ever gets here.”
“Noooo.” And before Noelle could stop him, he’d bolted out the still-open front door, his howl fading as he raced away.
She started for the door, but Christian caught her arm. “I’ll get him. Why don’t you take a couple minutes and have some of that coffee you mentioned earlier.”
“We’re already running late. If we don’t get going now, we’ll miss the plane.” She thought of the appointments set up for later that day and bit her lower lip in frustration.
“I’ll get you there.”
She shook her head. “I have a car coming.”
“I mean to New York.”
