“I’m glad it wasn’t all danger and intrigue.”
Julia forced herself to smile, but it was growing more difficult. “Then back at his palace-” She blinked her burning eyes. “Well, that was-”
Melanie came to her feet, a worried expression on her face. “Julia?”
Oh, no. Julia could feel her chest tightening. She clenched her jaw and fought the rising emotions. But all she could see was Harrison in the palace bedroom, comforting her after her nightmare, kissing her, holding her, making her feel as though an insane world would really be all right after all.
“Julia?” Melanie asked again. “What the hell happened over there?”
Julia looked up at her friend.
Melanie’s shoulders slumped. “You fell for him.”
Julia nodded miserably.
How, oh,
“And he’s gone back to propose to another woman?”
“Yes,” Julia squeaked out. “She’s a lovely woman. She has a title, and she looks like a movie star. And she’s nice.” A couple of tears escaped, and Julia swiped them away. “She’s genuinely nice. I don’t blame him for wanting her.”
“Do you want to go after him?” asked Melanie.
“No!” Julia frantically shook her head. “That would be a disaster.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I do. He’s a baron. He actually has the title ‘The Honorable’ in front of his name.”
“So what?”
“So
“Yeah.” Melanie nodded.
“You don’t know what he said to me last night.”
Melanie waited.
“He said being his wife was a really hard job, and Brittany knew how to do it. She could help both him and their children.”
Melanie sat back down. “Oh.”
“So, you see. He’s gone back to his own world, and I can’t go after him.”
Melanie didn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure he didn’t mean-”
“It was pretty clear what he meant.”
Melanie slumped back on the couch. “What can I do to help?”
Julia gave a watery smile. “Thanks for listening.”
“There’s got to be more than that.”
“There isn’t. But thanks.” Julia set the muffin aside. “I think I’ll head home now. I hope you get Leopold’s Legacy figured out soon.”
“This sucks,” said Melanie.
“Life does sometimes,” said Julia, trying desperately to be tough and pragmatic. “But at least I’m not in a jail cell.”
She’d cling to that reality. Even if Harrison hadn’t fallen in love with her, he got her out of jail in Dubai, and he saved her life. She’d always be grateful for that.
Chapter Sixteen
Harrison spent most of the trip across the Atlantic telling himself to buck up and be a man about it.
Sure, he’d missed Julia last night. But it was obvious she was ready to walk away, and he’d had no choice but to respect her wishes. Although every minute took him farther away from her, he tried to remind himself he was also heading toward something else, a course of action that would ultimately make the most sense.
But, by the time they crossed the Azores, he knew he had to stop in London. He also knew he had to tell both Brittany and his grandmother the engagement wasn’t going to happen. He’d betrayed Brittany in the most fundamental way a man could betray a woman. It wasn’t that he’d slept with Julia. Problem was, he’d fallen in love with Julia.
He’d asked his pilot to refile the flight plan, and now they were easing onto the runaway at Heathrow.
He’d also forced himself to go over a backlog of business e-mails, composing answers while they were in the air. Once the jet was taxiing at Heathrow, he hooked up his connection and sent everything off.
There was some good news on the pipeline front. France and Turkmenistan were ready to start formal talks. Harrison would have to be in Paris for that at the end of the month. He’d also contacted a top-notch, international private investigative firm. They’d get started on the investigation around Millions to Spare’s death immediately and, hopefully, have some information for the Prestons soon.
His jet stopped at the private boarding gates, and he headed down the gangway into a blustery fall evening in London. There was a limo waiting for him, and he made a few calls while half watching a news station on his way to Brittany’s family home near Hyde Park.
“We’ve arrived, sir,” the limo driver informed him as the car came to a halt.
One of the Livingstons’ footmen quickly opened Harrison’s door, and Harrison thanked him as he got out.
Another staff member greeted him on the lighted, stone porch and offered to announced him to Brittany. The Livingstons had always lived on the formal side, even for the aristocracy, and Harrison couldn’t help but contrast their lifestyle to the cozy little cabin where he’d spoken with Julia just last night.
Brittany appeared almost immediately in the marble and gilded entry hall.
“Harrison.” She smiled politely, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “How good of you to stop by.”
Again, Harrison’s brain brought up a contrast to Julia. If he’d arrived unannounced on her doorstep at nine in the evening, she’d probably ask him what the heck he wanted.
“Shall we go into the parlor?” Brittany offered.
“I came to apologize,” said Harrison as he fell into step with her. “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly.”
They crossed through a set of double doors to a dark paneled room with French provincial furniture, heavy oil paintings and ornate, antique crystal chandeliers.
Brittany gestured to a burgundy upholstered chair. “I understand completely,” she told him.
He waited for her to sit down in the opposite chair before taking his own seat.
A butler arrived.
“Would you care for a cocktail?” asked Brittany. “Or perhaps some tea?”
“Tea would be nice,” said Harrison. “I’m time zone challenged at the moment.”
“Of course.” She nodded to the butler, who exited the room.
Immediately a trio of maids appeared, setting out cups and spoons, sugar, cream, honey and lemon. Then another maid arrived with a tray of sweets, and yet another with a pot of tea.
Harrison waited until the little flurry had calmed down and Brittany had poured the tea.
He took a sip and nodded his appreciation. “I am sorry our visit in Dubai didn’t go as I had planned.”
Brittany’s cup rattled against the saucer.
He peered closely at her expression and realized she was nervous about something.
He had a horrible thought. Was she expecting him to propose here and now?
“Harrison.” She set down her cup.
What could he do?
What could he say?
He didn’t want to hurt her.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” she continued.
He set down his own cup and leaned forward, relieved to have her keep talking a little while longer. “Please,” he invited.
“This is difficult,” she said, smoothing her hair back from her face.
