A pulsating silence filled the cabin.
His body didn’t move, but she saw a flicker in the depths of his eyes, turning them the green of a stormy ocean.
“Do you have pictures of them on you?”
She’d thought he’d deny it was his son, or at least question her outrageous suggestion that he might have been the father.
He did neither. Instead he’d responded in a forthright manner that astounded her.
“I have a packet in my wallet. The photo of Melissa is her junior year high school picture. The rest are pictures of my son taken on every birthday in case I ever found his father and he wanted to see them.”
One dark brow lifted. “Your son?”
“Yes. I adopted him.”
“You never married?”
“No.”
Her hands trembled as she opened her purse and pulled the packet from her wallet.
He got up and reached for it.
She held her breath while he stood there with his legs slightly apart, studying each photograph with an intensity that held her spellbound.
The likeness of his son to him couldn’t be disputed.
“What day was he born?”
“February 27. He’ll be thirteen on his next birthday.”
He examined the pictures for a long time. “What did you name him?” His voice revealed a husky quality that indicated he was deeply moved. Another surprise.
“When Melissa had an ultrasound and found out she was going to have a boy, she named him after you.”
His gaze shot to hers. “I have several names.”
Darrell’s mouth had gone dry. “I know. I saw the long list on the Internet. You told her you were Phil from New York. So Melissa called him Phillip.”
A haunted expression crossed over his features, making the thirty-three-year-old monarch appear older than he was.
“Now that I see her picture, I do remember visiting a dude ranch in Colorado Springs in June thirteen years ago. A college girl a little shorter than you with hair several shades darker than yours worked there.”
“Yes. That was Melissa. She was a room maid for the summer. Except that she wasn’t in college. She was only seventeen, and had another year of high school ahead of her.”
His lips thinned.
“Don’t worry,” Darrell murmured. “I’m sure she lied about her age. She looked older and couldn’t grow up fast enough. She said you’d both been drinking and got into a sleeping bag under the stars. That’s when you parted with the ring.
“Knowing Melissa, she probably begged you to let her put it on. Especially after you told her you were really a prince.
“I thought the whole story was bogus. But two weeks ago when I consulted a heraldry expert who identified your family’s coat of arms, I had to take it seriously.
“The Internet articles and pictures of you helped me with the rest. Not only was one of your names Phillip, I read that you were the prince of Bris before your coronation six years ago. Suddenly everything fell into place. But like all fairy tales, her glorious interlude with you came to a bitter end.
“When she reported for work the next day, you’d already disappeared without a trace. All she had of you was the ring. Before she died, she begged me to find you. After the funeral, I hid it away.”
His jaw hardened. Darrell could feel the tension emanating from him.
“How you must despise me.” His deep voice throbbed with self-abnegation. “Under the circumstances, why didn’t you tell the police what you’ve just told me? It was the perfect opportunity to expose me.”
Though she didn’t want to feel any compassion for him, there was something innately honorable about him owning up to his past behavior without offering excuses.
She hadn’t expected it of him. She hadn’t expected to have a positive feeling anywhere in her body for this man who’d made her sister pregnant, indirectly bringing on her early death.
Darrell rubbed her eyes with her palms.
“The last thing on my mind was creating a scandal for you. What happened between you and Melissa has happened to millions of couples since time immemorial. The difference is, not every child turns out to be the son of a king.
“Phillip wants his father more than you can imagine. Lately he’s been angry over the fact that you’re out in the cosmos someplace, unaware he’s alive. He’s wishing with all his heart and soul that he had a dad like his friends. He’s become quite inconsolable.
“But now that I’ve found you, I realize it was a mistake. I had no right to disrupt your life even if my son is suffering. He wouldn’t be the only child in the world to grow up without a father.
“The problem is, after raising him from birth I love him too much. The saying about a mother rushing into a burning building to save her child is truer than even I knew until now.”
She lifted her head and stared up at him with glistening eyes. “In this life there are some things that happen which are better left alone. This is one of them.”
“How can you say that?” he asked in a low voice. “I’m responsible for her pregnancy. I wish I’d known of Phillip’s existence from the beginning.”
“It would only have complicated your life. While I was checking out of the Hotel Otter, I overheard the desk clerk telling a tourist that there’s going to be a royal wedding at the end of July. I heard him say you were marrying a princess named Isabella.
“Learning you’ve been betrothed for several years, that news made me glad I hadn’t been able to talk to you. Please be assured neither you nor your intended bride will ever see or hear from me again.”
Alex moved as if to speak but Darrell rushed on, not giving him the chance to interrupt her. “If you’ll wait before flying back to Bris, I’ll drive home and ask one of the agents to bring the ring to you.”
She jumped to her feet, “Forgive me for forcing you to fly all this way. I’m so sorry—” she whispered before rushing out of the cabin and down the stairs of the jet.
“Please take me to my car, then follow me home. I have something of the king’s you need to return to him before he leaves the airport.”
The agent looked surprised, but he helped her in the car and instructed the man at the wheel to go back to the main airport’s parking lot.
A half hour later Darrell was still trembling as she pulled into the driveway of her small, two-bedroom condo. The agent’s car pulled in behind her.
She dashed in the house and hurried up the stairs to her closet. The ring was inside a little velvet pouch she kept in the pocket of an ancient winter coat she’d never thrown out.
Within seconds she’d run back outside and handed it to him through the car window. He nodded to her before they drove off, taking all incriminating evidence with them. Only then did she realize the king still had the pictures of Melissa and Phillip.
That was all right. Whatever he did with them, it didn’t matter. She had duplicates.