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She waved her hand at the scenery. ‘You say you’re trying to protect your family from the scandal you think my announcement will bring. But we could’ve had this conversation anywhere. Instead, you’ve brought me here to yet another symbol of your status. To what? Drive home the fact that I’m a mere commoner? You want to put me in my place, is that it?’
‘Yes. All of the above,’ he replied drily.
So drily, she couldn’t decipher whether he was serious or joking. Then she called herself ten kinds of fool for thinking he would deny the accusation.
‘I also intend to limit your access to the outside world, at least until we have a few things straightened out between us.’
‘There’s nothing to straighten out. I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. End of.’
She wasn’t aware of the full extent of his tension until his grip visibly relaxed on the steering wheel. ‘I believe we’ve just settled the first thing to my satisfaction.’
About to frown, her jaw dropped as she stared at him. ‘You brought me here suspecting that I wasn’t going to go through with this pregnancy?’
One shoulder lifted in an eloquent shrug.
‘Establishing there’s a pregnancy and telling a father of his child’s existence doesn’t automatically mean the state is willingly accepted. Not yet, anyway.’
‘What other reason could I...?’ She froze, then gasped again, growing a little light-headed as his meaning sank in. ‘You believe I told you about the pregnancy to leverage it? For what?’
‘Off the top of my head? Everything you’ve ever desired since you were old enough to desire it. But your outrage is duly noted. As is your protectiveness.’
The last bit was uttered in a gruff voice, his gaze dropping to where her hand had somehow found itself over her belly again.
This time she didn’t drop it or attempt to disguise the action. They were alone, and really she was done being the soul of discretion about the child she carried. Zak had brought her here just so she’d be out of the public eye. She wasn’t about to deny her child’s existence.
She was still absorbing the twisted cynicism that informed his every action when they crested a low hill.
The white, sprawling plantation style house sat on top of another hill, surrounded on either side by tall swaying palm trees. And sloping away on either side, lush grass rolled away several hundred feet before turning into the white sand of a pristine beach.
All that perfection was set against a backdrop of a sparkling sea that couldn’t have more stunning if it had been drawn by the world’s most talented artist.
As prisons went, it was magnificent enough to snatch her breath from her lungs. On any other occasion, Violet wouldn’t have stopped herself from vocalising her appreciation.
But this wasn’t any other occasion. She’d been brought here for the sole purpose of being kept away from the world, a problematic stain that Prince Zakary Montegova had yet to decide what to do with.
The stony ache in her chest bruised her but she managed, barely, to hang onto her composure. She’d displayed far too many weaknesses in his presence already. The even bigger battle was ahead of her, so she had to keep her wits about her. Remain calm in the face of his highhandedness.
And find a way off this gilded paradise as soon as possible.
The moment the car drew to a stop, she reached for the door handle.
‘Violet, wait—’
She ignored his growled instruction. And stepped out onto baking paving stones.
With a yelp, she sprinted towards the front door of the mansion, fleeing the suppressed curse that sounded behind her and Zak’s quick strides as he chased her down.
So much for maintaining her composure.
The doors opened smoothly and Violet skidded to a halt, her face flaming as she caught the stares of a dozen uniformed men and women who comprised the household staff.
A few glances at her attire reminded her that she was still in the gown she’d worn to Remi’s wedding. Despite the air-conditioned interior, the heavy silk stuck to her skin, the short train dragging and out of place in this place where shorts and bikinis were the norm.
With her feet bare and her hair in disarray, she knew she looked a sight. Nevertheless, she plastered on a tentative smile as Zak sauntered to a stop beside her.
In deep languid tones, he made introductions, the amusement in his voice as he introduced her as Lady Violet Barringhall setting her teeth on edge.
There was nothing ladylike about her appearance. And it was all his fault. Once the majority of the staff had disper
