The Baby Dilemma

Kellie took the seat opposite them and tried to look anywhere else while he kissed her. Talk about two people in love! They reminded her so much of the way it had once been between her and Philippe, she was wounded all over again.

“Raoul, darling?” she heard Lee finally say in a husky voice. “Meet Kellie Didier.”

“How do you do, your highness.”

His brilliant blue gaze flicked to Kellie. “Please—call me Raoul,” he said in English with hardly a trace of accent. With one arm still hugging his wife tightly, he clasped Kellie’s hand for a moment before letting go. “Thank God you came. Philippe is badly in need of his wife.”

Kellie struggled not to fall apart. “I need him even more. Thanks to you and the princess, I know what’s happened. You have no idea how grateful I am for all you’ve done to make this easier for me. As I told your wife, someday I’ll find a way to repay you.”

A grave expression spread over his attractive features. “The only thing of importance is that you’re here now. You do understand his fragile emotional state?” he asked with an underlying trace of demand.

She couldn’t blame him for being protective of his best friend. In fact she loved him for it.

“Darling,” Lee cautioned softly. “Kellie’s in a pretty fragile state herself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Kellie asked her.

Lee shook her head. “I didn’t think it was my place.”

Raoul stared at Kellie. “Tell me what?”

“I found out I’m going to have a baby.”

He shook his handsome dark-blond head. “Unbelievable.”

Her news had shocked him. But not as much as it had shocked Kellie who still couldn’t comprehend the fact that she was going to be a mother.

“I should be congratulating you,” he added. “Instead all I can think of is that when Philippe hears the news, he’ll believe it’s the only reason you came to Switzerland.”

“I’m way ahead of you,” Kellie’s voice shook. “That’s why he mustn’t be told about it until—until—”

“How can we help?” he broke in.

“You’ve already done so much, I’m ashamed.”

“Kellie— I know in my gut you and Philippe would do the same thing for us if our positions were reversed.”

“Of course we would,” she avowed. “Philippe looks on you as a brother.”

“The feeling’s mutual so there’ll be no more talk on that score.” He sat back in the seat while he clung to his wife. “Do you have a plan of what you want to do first? It goes without saying that our home is at your disposal.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed the hair out of her eyes. “During the flight I thought of several ways to approach him, but in the end I was afraid they’d all fail. Then Lee told me about Philippe’s plan to help you when you found out your marriage date to Princess Sophie had been brought forward. That’s when an idea came to me.”

“What a black day that was,” he confessed.

“As I understand it, Philippe talked you into luring the princess to your chalet in Zermatt with the hope she’d call off your wedding when she found out the two of you had nothing in common.”

Raoul nodded before smiling at his wife. “Then you showed up in her place.” He kissed her again.

Kellie cleared her throat. “I—I was thinking we might try his strategy in reverse?”

The prince was quick on the uptake. He turned his head and looked at Kellie with a shrewd regard. “So Philippe shows up at the chalet before the climb and finds you in residence.”

“Yes. For one thing, it might be better for us to meet on neutral ground where we’re away from his work or any associations to do with us. The apartment has too many memories that could tear both of us apart.

“For another, I left my keys on the dresser before I left Neuchàtel. I’d have to ask the concierge to let me in the apartment. He’d probably warn Philippe firs—”

“There’s no probably about it. The penthouse has become a fortress,” Raoul was swift to respond. It gave Kellie a deeper glimpse into Philippe’s tortured psyche. She shivered at the uphill battle ahead of her.

“Beyond surprising my husband at your chalet, I don’t have any other ideas yet.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re as inspired as Philippe was,” Raoul murmured.

She bit her lip. “I’m not at all certain it will work, but since he was already planning a climb, he won’t be suspecting any subterfuge. If the only thing I accomplish is to prevent him from going up on the mountain in his condition, I’ll be thankful.”

“We all will, believe me,” Raoul said in an emotion-filled voice.

“There’s only one problem. Philippe’s going to realize you made this possible for me. I couldn’t bear it if he turned on you. You’re his dearest friend.”

Raoul eyed her with a glint of what looked like admiration. “Let me worry about that.”

“When is your banking conference over?”

“Today’s the final day. My suggestion is that you and Lee get some sleep while I’m in attendance. I should be through around four-thirty. We’ll fly to Zermatt in the helicopter and spend the night. I’ll give the staff a few days off.

“Tomorrow morning I’ll have Philippe flown in. After I bring him to the chalet, I’ll conveniently disappear and the rest of us will wait things out at Roger’s condo.”

Tomorrow Kellie would see Philippe.

Her heart thudded so hard with excitement and anxiety all rolled into one, she feared something was wrong with it.

Lee moved forward to touch her arm in concern. “Are you all right?”

She let out a shaky breath. “There’s a strong possibility he won’t let me into his life again. I’m petrified our marriage could really be over.”

When neither of them refuted that statement, her fear escalated.

Weary both physically and emotionally, she rested her head against the back of the seat. Her eyelids felt heavy. Before they closed, the last thing she saw was Raoul’s grave countenance.

Like a revelation it came to her he knew things about Philippe he hadn’t told his wife or Kellie. She didn’t know what exactly, but a frisson of terror attacked her body worse than before.

CHAPTER THREE

KELLIE walked Raoul and Lee to the back door of the chalet to see them off.

“I’ll be praying for you,” Lee whispered, giving Kellie a hug.

“Thank you. I’m going to need it.”

Raoul placed his hands on her shoulders. “You have my cell phone number. Call us at anytime.”

She nodded.

His eyes looked a darker blue beneath the overcast sky. “Do your magic as only you know how to do.”

Kellie let out a half sob. “I’m afraid I’ve destroyed that for him. But if loving him desperately counts for anything—”

“It counts.” He kissed her forehead before throwing an arm around his wife’s waist to walk her to the car. It was one of those little electric ones, the only kind allowed to get around Zermatt.

She watched until their car disappeared down the slope. Then she ran through the hallway to the front of the rustic chalet where the picture window gave out on the Swiss resort town famous for its skiing and mountaineering.

Raoul had told her that in good weather she’d be able to view the Matterhorn. Kellie had never been to Zermatt, and had always wanted to see the mountain. But this morning it was shrouded in gray mist.

Another reason why she wouldn’t allow Philippe to attempt a climb, she’d do anything to prevent him from leaving.

She propped herself on the couch near the window trying to imagine what she’d say to him when he arrived. When an hour had passed and there was no sign of the car yet, she began to worry that bad weather might have prevented the helicopter from landing.

However if that were true, Raoul would have phoned to let her know there’d been a delay.

Her gaze wandered to the end of the room where a circular staircase wound its way to the loft. Philippe had spent many nights up there before a climb, or a day of skiing.

She’d been put in the guest bedroom on the main floor. Though she knew it was impossible, there was still this tiny part of her that fantasized about a reconciliation. After a month’s deprivation, she was dying with love for him. Whenever she thought about them sleeping together, she could hardly breathe.

Too nervous to sit still, she walked to the bathroom down the hall and ran the brush through her hair one more time. She’d put on tan wool pants and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater he hadn’t seen her in before. They were colors he particularly liked on her.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she remembered what Lee had said.

Philippe has changed. He wants the divorce now.

A sharp pain pierced her heart to realize he wouldn’t care what she was wearing because he wasn’t going to look at her the same way again.

Almost immobilized by the fears plaguing her, she hurried from the bathroom to the kitchen at the rear of the chalet. From the window over the sink she’d be able to see Philippe arrive.

Earlier she’d prepared fruit and ham and cheese croissants for him. The coffee was hot. She knew he’d lost weight during the last month, but was determined to get him to eat.

She wanted to do everything for him.

She wanted to be all things to him.

She wanted to be his wife again.

It had been so long…

Just when she decided something had gone wrong and Philippe wouldn’t be coming, she heard the sound of a car.

With her heart pounding out of control, she moved to the side of the sink where she could still see out the window without being observed in return.

Pretty soon she saw it pull around the slope and stop about thirty feet from the back door. The plan was for Raoul to let Philippe out and tell him to go inside the unlocked door while Raoul did a quick errand he’d remembered at the last minute.

So far it seemed to be working. Raoul kept the car running, but by this time her eyes were riveted on the man climbing out of the passenger seat.

If she hadn’t known it was Philippe, she wouldn’t have recognized him. His black hair was overly long. In the last month he’d grown a moustache and beard.

He’d always been heartbreakingly handsome to her. He still was, but in an entirely different way. The change in him fascinated and terrified her all at the same time. She felt distanced from him by his outward appearance; it was symbolic of the trauma he’d experienced in the last month.

Six feet two inches of powerful muscle beneath his climbing clothes, the noticeable weight loss gave him a lean, hungry look. Kellie was so mesmerized by the transformation, she hardly noticed the cane he used to help keep the weight off his left leg.

His limp appeared almost nonexistent. Once again she found herself thanking providence that he hadn’t sustained worse injuries in the accident.

Raoul waved to him, then took off. Philippe gave a slight nod before walking the rest of the way to the chalet.

As she heard the back door open and close, perspiration broke out on her brow. Her body went hot, then cold.

She detected the slight tap of his cane as he walked down the hall past the kitchen. Then suddenly, everything went quiet.

He’d seen her.

On unsteady legs, Kellie crossed the distance to the doorway, coming face to face with a man who bore a superficial resemblance to the husband she adored. But this close to him, those dark slits glittering with accusation couldn’t be his eyes.

Beneath his facial hair, the features she loved so well looked chiseled in stone. Combined with his forbidding stance, she sought the doorjamb for support.

“You should have come to the apartment instead of using Raoul to get to me,” he said in a wintry voice she didn’t recognize. “I would have signed those divorce papers before showing you the door.”

Dear God.

“As it is, you’ll have to go back where you came from and wait five more days for your long-sought freedom.”

“Philippe—”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you would stoop so low as to presume on my relationship with the prince in order to achieve your own ends. To think there was a time when I thought I knew you…”

His hostility went beyond anything she could have imagined. How in heaven would she be able to break through the formidable barrier he’d erected against her?

“Please, sweetheart—we have to talk.”

“Don’t.” His quiet rage was more terrifying than if he’d shoved her body against the wall. “I’ll give you ten minutes to leave the chalet. That’s nine minutes and thirty seconds more than you gave me in the E.R.”

Every word cut her like a knife before he jerked away from her. What happened next was like something out of a ghastly nightmare.

Tossing his cane aside, he started up the back staircase two steps at a time, the way he would have done before the accident.

“No!” she screamed, chasing after him, but he was too fast for her. As he reached the top, she saw him trip. He fell against the floor groaning in agony.

“Darling!” She flew the rest of the distance and knelt at his side where he was half-sitting half-lying there holding his bad leg. As much as she wanted to touch him, comfort him, she didn’t dare. “Don’t move. I’ll call for help.”

Already she could see perspiration beading his hair-line. Pain had drawn the color from his complexion.

He flashed her a withering glance. “I told you to get out!”

No way.

“This isn’t your house, Philippe. I have as much right to be here as you do. Right now you need medical help.”

Without waiting to take anymore of his cruel rejection, she hurried back down the stairs to her room. Raoul had left his cell phone number on the end table next to the guest phone.

She grabbed the receiver and punched the digits. To her relief he responded on the second ring.

“Raoul— I’m so glad you answered!”

“Kellie? I haven’t even reached Roger’s yet. What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.” There was alarm in his voice.

“Philippe has hurt his leg.” In the next few seconds she related what had happened.

“Your magic worked even faster than I thought it would. There’ll be no climbing for him in the foreseeable future, thank God. I’ll bring the doctor.”

“All right. Please hurry. He’s in pain.”

“That’s good. It means he’s feeling again,” Raoul murmured before clicking off.

Pondering that comment, Kellie hurried into the kitchen to fashion a makeshift ice bag.

As she rummaged around in the drawers for some plastic bags, it dawned on her once again how fortunate they were to be Raoul’s guests. In fact she agreed with their host that this latest accident was a blessing in disguise.

But when a stream of bitter French invective penetrated to the hall, it didn’t prevent her from shivering all the way to the loft to rejoin her husband.

By the time she reached him, he’d dragged himself to the nearest bed and had collapsed on top of it. If she hadn’t had the advantage for the moment, his withering regard would have paralyzed her.

She walked past him to pull a pillow from each of the other three beds. “Here. Let’s get these under your knee.”

The fact that he let her arrange the pillows to elevate his trousered leg indicated his degree of agony. She followed that action with the ice bag which she placed over his knee.

Without asking his permission, she unlaced his boot and carefully pulled it off. She repeated the process with his other boot. To be able to take care of him again in any capacity filled her with inexpressible joy.

It was an automatic gesture to put the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re hot, darling. Let me help you off with this sweater.”

Because he hadn’t tried to interfere with her ministrations, she didn’t think he would fight her for taking this liberty, too.

That’s where she was wrong.

As she started to ease it from his hips, his right hand seized her wrist in a viselike grip, hurting her. She’d forgotten he had muscles of whipcord strength.

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