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He stopped, pivoted towards her without approaching. ‘Tell me, Violet, was your intention in coming here to have a discussion with me?’

She slanted a glance at the guard, who stared into the middle distance, effectively mimicking a seen-but-not-heard stance most likely drummed into him as part of royal protocol training. Her gaze returned to Zak’s. ‘Yes.’

‘My duties are mostly finished but I cannot carve out the time for this without first going back to make my excuses. You will wait here for me to return.’

‘But—’

‘Unless you’ve changed your mind about the supposed urgency of this situation?’

For the life of her, Violet couldn’t see the web he was spinning even though silky threads whispered over her skin. She would’ve loved to flounce off after delivering the news, but she couldn’t sustain any more shocks. Couldn’t live in limbo as she tried to decrypt his full and eventual reaction to her pregnancy. She had to stay, see this through in order to better inform her next steps.

‘But we don’t have to do this right this minute, do we?’

‘And when do you propose we do it? That we get together at another state occasion, perhaps?’

‘That wasn’t my fault. If you had bothered to answer my emails—’

He waved that away with a flick of his wrist. ‘The past is past. I know what you have come to tell me now. And I am going to do something about it.’

She opened her mouth, but again he halted her speech with a slash of his hand. ‘I’m willing to bet my mother has noticed my absence and is already sending someone to look for me as we speak. Do you wish me to handle this and come back to you or not?’

What could she say to that except, ‘Yes. Okay.’

With an abrupt nod he walked out the door, leaving her with an icy dread she couldn’t quite explain. A wave of dizziness rushed over her, and Violet stumbled over to the nearest set of sumptuous matching sofas and sank into the nearest seat. Scenarios raced through her mind as an hour ticked by without Zak returning. She had the absurd thought that he’d abandoned her, was circulating the ballroom, secretly laughing at the absurd news she’d delivered.

The doors opened and a second guard entered. Violet watched, a little bemused, as the two guards exchange a low-voiced conversation before advancing towards her.

‘Would you come with me please, miss?’ one said.

‘Where are we going?’ she demanded suspiciously.

‘His Highness has requested that you meet him at a different location.’

Frowning, she glanced towards the double doors that led back to the wedding reception. ‘But...my mother...’

Her words were met with a blank stare.

Aware that returning to the ballroom now would attract questions, Violet concluded it was wisest to get this meeting with Zak out of the way. Rising, she smoothed at her hand down her thighs and nodded at the guards. ‘Lead the way.’

They led her away from where the reception was still in full swing, traversing a series of hallways until they emerged into an enclosed courtyard where a gleaming black unoccupied limousine stood idling. The back door was open with the driver poised at attention beside it.

She resisted the urge to ask the guards where the driver was taking her, suspecting that she’d be stonewalled. Sucking in a breath that did nothing to sustain or restore her equilibrium, Violet slid into the car and fought back a shiver as it was shut softly but precisely behind her.

The car rolled forward. Through tinted windows, she saw the palace grounds whizz past. Mourned the beautiful architecture and stunning city of Playagova she’d been too preoccupied to fully appreciate.

Within minutes they were pulling up to a building that looked suspiciously like an aircraft hangar. Her suspicions were confirmed when the car glided to a smooth stop next to a gleaming jet a size smaller than the one in which they’d flown to Tanzania.

Its tail fin bore the same royal logo. The driver opened the door, courteously holding out his hand. For a moment, Violet hesitated. Sensing she would get no answers from the driver either, she alighted, then watched in surprise as he rounded the bonnet, slid behind the wheel and drove off.

‘Hey, where are you—?’ Realising she was alone in the cavernous space, and that she was speaking to thin air, she turned and eyed the steps that led into the plane.

Apprehension eating at her, she climbed the stairs and entered another sumptuous, custom-designed interior. Aged cherry wood complemented gold-veined marble in a masterful display of opulence that would have completely bowled her over had the sight of Zak, lounging in a large club chair at the far end of the plane, not absorbed every ounce of her attention. She approached him only because she didn’t want to conduct this meeting by shouting the length of the plane, her feet moving soundlessly over the thick carpet. She stopped within ten feet, close enough to talk but not enough to be overwhelmed by his presence. Much.

‘What is this, Zak? What am I doing here?’

He didn’t immediately reply, instead looked past her and nodded.

Glancing sharply over a shoulder, Violet saw the pilot acknowledge Zak’s silent command and retreat into the cockpit.

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