Free Stolen Kiss From a Prince by Teresa Carpenter Page A

separating herself emotionally from Sammy. And his uncle. “Will you sit with Sammy? He shouldn’t be any trouble. I expect him to fall asleep soon.”
    Neil agreed and stepped inside. Katrina wiped her hands over her hips and headed for the lounge.
    Julian stood, hands clasped behind him staring out the window. She experienced a moment of déjà vu and slowed as she remembered her new resolve to keep her emotions out of the job. She stared past him to the view, which consisted of a lot of snow and a smattering of trees. She doubted very much he saw any of it.
    “Your Highness.” She stopped a respectable distance behind him.
    He tensed at the sound of her voice, making his posture even more rigid, if such a thing were even possible.
    “Donal and Helene are dead.”
    At the stark announcement she closed her eyes, fighting the burn of tears. Though expected, it still hurt to hear the news. But she quickly persevered and focused on Julian. The words held a harsh quality, sounding as if he’d swallowed a handful of granite.
    “My condolences,” she whispered. And then, because that seemed so inadequate, she added, “What can I do to help?”
    “We will be stopping to collect the bodies before traveling on to Kardana. There will be a delay while we wait for them to be delivered off the mountain. It could take a couple days. Jean Claude has approved the use of the train car for the full journey. You should prepare for an overnight stay perhaps more.”
    “Of course, my lord.” So clipped, so unemotional. Her fingernails dug into her palms with the effort to stay uninvolved. “Will there be anything else?”
    He turned then and her breath caught in the back of her throat. The clenched line of his jaw, the sheen of despair in his golden eyes told of his struggle for composure. Here was a man who had lost his brother.
    “Yes.” He stood straight and proud before her. “I realize it is highly inappropriate to ask.” He fixated on a spot over her shoulder, as if unable to meet her gaze. “You are, of course, at liberty to refuse.”
    His uncharacteristic hesitancy tore at her heart, drew her forward. “What can I do?”
    His eyes met hers, and his Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed hard. “Would you hold my hand for a minute?”
     

CHAPTER SIX
    “J UL — IAN .” H ER voice broke. Not hesitating, she went to him, wrapped both hands around his. He was cold, shaking. “I am so sorry.”
    “I didn’t really believe it until now.” His head bowed so his breath fanned over her cheek. “I knew the probability, but it wasn’t real. My big brother is gone.”
    “He is in a better place,” she offered, knowing it was too little, too mundane. She squeezed his hand, wished she could do more to ease his pain. No longer a Prince worried about duty, this was a man hurting for the loss of a dearly loved brother.
    He shook his head less in denial than hopelessness. His forehead nearly touched hers, and she lifted a hand to his cheek and took the necessary half step to complete the connection, the comfort of skin to skin. A strangled noise came from his throat at the same time he clutched her to him.
    “He’s always been there for me. Such a bruiser, but he had the kindest heart. I don’t want him to be gone.”
    “I know.” She stroked his back; he shuddered under her palm. “You will always have him in your heart.”
    He didn’t say anything more, just continued to hold her. She let him, holding him, too. So much stretched ahead of him. He’d been preparing for this—had felt guilty for doing so—but many would look to him now his brother was gone. Just as King Lowell had looked to his heir when he took sick last year. Those duties would now fall to Julian, as well. This time on the train might be his only opportunity to grieve in relative privacy.
    Poor King Lowell. How awful to lose your son and heir. She could not imagine his sorrow, his grief. She’d seen him on the news yesterday talking of hope and