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“My turn to what?” he asked.
“Tell me about your childhood.”
“I only lived at home for five years before I got shipped off to boarding school,” he said dismissively. “There’s not much to tell.”
Elizabeth set down her food and her green eyes began to flash. “I know evasion when I hear it. This getting-to-know-you bit was your idea to start with, so don’t try to wriggle out of your half of the deal.”
He shrugged. “There really isn’t anything exciting to tell. I was sent to boarding school, went to Eton over in the U.K. from there and eventually to Oxford. That was when I decided to come to the States for further study at Harvard University.”
“You have a brother. I know him.” Elizabeth was prompting him as if he were slightly slow and he sighed, having learned enough about her by now to know she wouldn’t give up—or shut up—until he had satisfied her curiosity.
“Roland. I was nine when he was born. You probably know him better than I ever will. Each of us was raised virtually as an only child.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “I can’t imagine not being close to my family. You must have missed them terribly when you went away to school.”
“No.” When she turned startled green eyes on him, he realized his answer had been too immediate, too final. “My father and I are like oil and water,” he said, shrugging to indicate how little it mattered. “It was a relief to everyone, I’m sure, when I was at school. When I came home on holiday, we only seemed to get on each other’s nerves.” An understatement of the greatest proportion. But there was no reason for her to know the rest. He’d forgotten half of it himself.
She was looking at him speculatively, and he could see that she wasn’t done with the topic. So it was a surprise when she spoke again.
“So what shall we do this afternoon?”
“That depends on you,” he said. “Are you tired? If you’d like to nap, we can go home.” The sound of the phrase struck him forcefully. What would it be like if Elizabeth lived with him? If they really could go home together?
She wouldn’t be napping alone.
The basic truth annoyed him. He wondered how many men thought a pregnant woman was the sexiest thing they’d ever seen.
It was only that his body remembered Elizabeth’s, he assured himself. It was normal to wonder if that first time had become better in retrospect than it had really been. Just because he couldn’t ever remember better sex in his life was no big deal.
Then the significance of the earlier thought drowned out all others. If Elizabeth lived with him…! Where had that come from? True, he fully intended to marry one day, which would certainly entail sharing his home with a wife. But why was it that he could so easily picture his pregnant princess in the role?
Could there be a woman anywhere on the globe less suited to his life-style than a blueblood who’d known luxury every waking moment of her life?
The incongruity of it would be laughable if it wasn’t so damned irritating. He’d spent the better part of his adult life running from his aristocratic status and here he was, about to become a father to a child who would have even more ties to royalty.
He and Elizabeth might not agree on many things, but they’d always be stuck with each other now, all because of his irresponsible behavior. For the rest of his life, he’d have royal ties that could never be broken. That much he was sure of. No child of his would be raised in the rigid, duty-demanding manner that he had been. He intended to be a warm, loving father in every way.
“I’m not tired,” she said, interrupting his racing thoughts. “For the first three months all I wanted to do was sleep, but now I feel great most of the time.”
The first three months.
Before he could squash the curiosity that welled, he asked, “How long was it before you realized our night together had lasting consequences?”
She slanted him an enigmatic look even though he could see the pretty pink blush deepening in her cheeks again. “You mean other than losing my virginity? That I realized right away.”
“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” He pushed his plate aside, no longer hungry. He’d been a cad and he knew it; she didn’t have to keep reminding him of how careless and thoughtless his actions had been. “When did you first suspect you were pregnant?”
She finished the last bite of her taco and set her plate aside as well, then took her sweet time dabbing at her mouth with her napkin and studiously wiping her fingers before laying it aside. She didn’t look at him. Instead, her eyes were unfocused as she looked into the past. “I was worried about it right away. So I took a pregnancy test as soon as it was recommended. It confirmed my fears.”
“What did you do then?” His conscience jabbed even more sharply.
Unexpectedly, she smiled. “After the first day or so of panic, I realized I was happy about it. I’m looking forward to being a mother.”
“Even without a husband?”
Her smiled dimmed slightly. “Even without a husband. Though that’s going to make it difficult when I tell my parents.”
“Don’t you think you’ve waited a bit long?”
