“What are you thinking about?” A finger hooked a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.
“I can’t tell you. It’ll go to your head.”
A dark eyebrow lifted. “And you say I’m the tease.”
Laughing, Juliette took his hand and tugged him towards the house. Along the way, he released her fingers to slide his hand around her waist. He fit her into his side as they climbed the steps together. Their hips and shoulders bumped in that familiar way she was so used to from years of being tucked into that place of comfort.
“I got a postcard from Vi this morning,” she remembered. “She’s loving the museums in Paris and the art classes she’s taking are coming along great.”
Killian pressed a kiss to the side of her head before moving ahead of her to help a struggling Callum shut the faucet off. He grabbed a towel and lightly patted the boy’s hands dry before scooping him off the stool and moving back to her.
“That’s good. How’s her French coming along? Any better?”
Juliette grinned as she pulled Callum’s chair out. “Well, it’s apparently good enough to land her a date with some smoking hot French guy. Her words, not mine.”
Shaking his head in amusement, Killian set Callum into his booster and scooted his chair under the table. “Does this mean she’s not with that British guy with the spiky hair?”
“I guess not.”
Grinning, Killian turned to her. He opened his mouth when a cry ripped through the house. Aniela, her face was as white as her apron, tore into the room calling for Killian in frantic squeaks.
“Sir, there’s a man at the door and he’s trying to get in—”
“Get Callum.” Killian didn’t even wait for the maid to finish. He snatched a knife off the table. “Now, Juliette.”
Heart hammering, she dragged the boy’s chair back and scooped him into her arms.
“Mommy?”
“It’s okay, baby.” She clutched him tight. Her panicked gaze went to Killian’s.
“Go,” he told her, already circling the table towards the front door.
Not waiting to be told a second time, she took Callum and ran from the room. The place was designed for that exact situation. It was how they’d built it, with ways to get in and out that only they knew about. Juliette cut through the dining room and into the library. Her fingers trembled as she dragged the third bookcase open on its hinges and set Callum inside.
“Remember what we talked about?” she whispered, her voice rushed and urgent.
Callum nodded, his little face white beneath his freckles.
“I love you.” She kissed him. “So much.”
“Mommy…?” Dark eyes brimmed, breaking her heart.
“It’s okay. I promise. It’s okay. Just be very quiet until Mommy comes back, okay?”
His bottom lip quivered. A tear slid down his cheek, followed by a sob that she quickly shushed.
“Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”
With a last kiss, she shut the door. Then ran to the bronze lamp perched on an antique table. She tore the shade off, spun it around and hefted it against her shoulder. Her heart thundered in her throat, sounding ridiculously loud between her ears. It muffled the world around her, irritating her as she pushed her back against the bookcase and waited.
The wait wasn’t long. She spotted the shadow before the footsteps. Her limbs trembled as she waited, breath held, counting every second.
“Juliette—”
With a scream, she swung. The figure lurched back just in time to keep from getting their brain splattered by the jagged base of the lamp. The metal rebounded off the wall, chipping paint and creating a hole.
“Juliette!” Killian grabbed her arms.
The lamp dropped from her grasp with a deafening thud. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she stared into her husband’s face.
“Killian…?”
“Jesus, you’re supposed to be in there with him!” But he hauled her into his arms, crushing her close as she trembled against him. His hands smoothed over her hair and down her back. “It’s all right,” he promised softly.
She pulled out of his arms and rushed to the bookcase. Callum peered up at them. His face tearstained and blotchy. His little arms flung up and she pulled him to her.
“I was quiet, Mommy,” he croaked into her shoulder.
“You were,” she whispered, her own voice wavering. “You were such a good boy.” Her filmy eyes went to her husband. “Who … who was it?” she stammered, fighting like crazy to keep from throwing up.
Rather than answer, Killian went to them and pulled them both into his arms. He kissed the side of Callum’s head, then Juliette’s lips before drawing back.
“Are you okay?” His palm settled on her stomach.
She nodded. “Just tell me who was at the door.”
Pausing long enough to search her eyes, Killian took Callum from her, perched him on his hip and took her hand.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
He was right. She wouldn’t have believed him, not unless she’d seen it with her own two eyes and even then…
“Maraveet?”
The woman hadn’t changed a freckle since they saw her all those years ago. Her hair was shorter, but her eyes were still that cat green Juliette envied. She wore tight jeans tucked into soft, leather boots and a flowy top that complimented her full chest. In her hands was a purse she dropped unceremoniously when she spotted Juliette.
“Surprise!”
That was an understatement. They hadn’t seen the woman in six years. Occasionally, Killian would get a text on the untraceable phone Maraveet had given him the night they blow up his manor and set off into the sunrise. It never made any sense to Juliette, but he would tell her Maraveet was in China or Prague or Canada. It was always somewhere new. She knew Killian had told Maraveet where they were in that weird cryptic message of theirs, but Maraveet had never, not once dropped by.
“What are you doing here?” Juliette asked, still not fully steady from the scare Maraveet had given them. “And what the hell are you doing trying to break in? You scared the hell out of us.”
Maraveet had the decency to grimace. “Just testing your reflexes.”
Heart refusing to slow, Juliette could only glower at the woman.
“It wasn’t funny,” Killian said for her. He shifted Callum higher on his hip. His hand rested carefully against the boy’s back. “You know that.”
Maraveet was no longer listening. Her eyes had fixed on Callum with wide fascination. “Who is this?”
“This is Callum.” Killian turned his body so she could catch a glimps of the face Callum had squished into Killian’s neck. “Callum, this is your Aunt Maraveet.”
Callum refused to move. His thin arms tightened around his father and he remained stubbornly hidden.
“He’s shaken,” Killian stated, looking hard at his sister. “Someone decided to break into his house.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know he was here?” Maraveet demanded, still watching Callum like he were a unicorn. “I didn’t know he existed.” Her gaze went to Juliette’s stomach. “Either of them.” One corner of her mouth twisted. “Jesus, I’m an aunt! I’m an aunt twice!” With a giddy laugh, she turned to the man standing at her shoulder, tall and quiet “I’m an aunt!”
The man chuckled. It was a nice sound, a kind sound that matched his handsome face. He had the flawless tan of a European with thick, glossy black hair and golden brown eyes set in a movie star chiseled face. Juliette didn’t recognize him, but the way he stuck to Maraveet’s side, the way he had his hand settled on the small of her spine, she had a feeling they would be seeing a lot of him in the future.
“Here I thought I would be surprising you guys.”
“I’m surprised,” Killian said, chuckling. “So, who’s your friend?”
That caught Maraveet’s attention. Her cheeks flushed pink as she turned so they could see the seven foot man towering drastically over her.