She had reverted true to form by falling for a man who was not only unsuitable, but he was also as unattainable as the stars.
Then something struck her, something so profound that she sat back and sucked in her breath in horror. In all the excitement, the heat, the pleasure, unbelievable pleasure, they had both forgotten to do one very important thing.
"Oh God," she whispered, closing her eyes in despair. She had not protected herself. At this very moment, she could be carrying the prince's baby. She was thirty-two, rapidly going on thirty-three years old, and one of the significant reasons she had for wanting to get married was to have a child. She had laughingly told Brian that if he was not careful, she was going to fill the house with children. How could she have been so stupid? So careless? And what the hell was he thinking, not using protection?
He was a prince for crying out loud. He should have acted with more responsibility. Shoving from the desk, she marched over to the refreshment stand and poured some tea. She could only pray, pray hard and long, that God spared her from hercarelessness. Taking the tea with her, she went to sit back down and contemplated her quandary.
She could leave, but her feelings would still be there. She could not run away from them. And it was obvious. She was in love with him. Head over heels, hopelessly in love with Prince Tomas.
She could not go back and undo it. The fact was there. She was in love with him. And the longing, the urge, the yearning, they were all there.
She just had no idea what she was going to do.
The phone rang just then, rudely jolting her back to the present and reminding her that she had work to do.
*****************
"It's been a madhouse." Queen Sofia breezed in at a quarter of five, a lovely chinchilla thrown over her arm and a harassed expression on her face. "You cannot believe the day I had." She heaved a sigh as she walked straight into her office and sat behind her desk. "Please tell me I have the rest of the evening easy."
"I..." Antoinette had spent the last two hours coming up with a way to tell her that she had to leave. "Just correspondences, and the caterers were trying to get in touch with the chef to finalize the menu."
"My dear, I gave you carte blanche to deal with all of that." Waving a dismissive hand, she stared at the email with a slight frown. "Sir Everet Whitfield will be coming for a visit on the weekend." She glanced up briefly. "He's a dear friend of mine. Even though I've told him repeatedly that he stays here whenever he's in town, the man is too polite to take it for granted. Will you see to it that he's assigned the purple room? He likes the view from there."
"Of course." Antoinette jotted the information on her iPad.
"And there's a bicentennial ceremony next week, seven days of celebration that my husband insisted on keeping in place." She grimaced. "I'll leave that with Tomas; he's in charge of the military and the pomp and ceremony that goes along with it. Has he been here? He was supposed to stop by the bank and give me an update."
"He did."
"And?"
Antoinette sat down heavily on the chair facing the desk. "I have to tell you something."
Leaning back in the chair, Sofia gave Antoinette her attention. "What is it, my dear? You look pensive."
"I am." She fiddled with her device and took a deep breath. "I did something foolish and am going to have to leave."
"Pardon?"
"I love my job," she rushed on to say. "It's just that I cannot stay here anymore. The prince..." She swallowed the lump inside her throat. "He... we..." She closed her eyes briefly. "We had sex!"
Queen Sofia was an expert in keeping her expression completely stoic after years of practice. She thanked God that she had years of experience. "I see. And based on that, you think you should leave?"
Antoinette stared at the woman in shock. "I did the unthinkable. The unforgivable. Surely you cannot condone what we did. What I did. I should have known better. I should have been more firm in telling him to stay the hell away from me." She rose in agitation and started pacing. "But I didn't. And now, oh God,now he wants... he wants... I don't know what he wants, because I'm not his type."
"Are you in love with my son?" the queen asked gently, interrupting the desperate flow of conversation.
"What?" Antoinette stopped abruptly, her eyes huge. "That's... that would be foolish. It would be insane. I'm not his type and I'm sure he's just having a fling. I don't have flings. I told him I was involved with someone and that did not make a difference."
"My dear, I'm still waiting on an answer."
She sat down heavily. "I can't be in love with him. It would make no sense. It would be one-sided and I cannot do that to myself again."
"Are you certain it is?" the woman asked her gently.
"What are you saying?"
Sofia leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk. "I know my son and for the first time in his life, he's confused and out of sorts. He has never been this way with a woman before." She smiled slightly. "Women pursue him, part of it is the way helooks and the fact that he's a prince. He also has money, lots of it. Those details tend to attract the opposite sex. He had a bad example through his father. My husband was never a good father or husband, and he tried to mold our son into his own image."
