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In her ability to project an outwardly cool and dismissive demeanour when she caught him staring at her with blatant heat in his eyes, while every cell in her body thrilled to that electric look.
In the flaring of his nostrils when he asked, ‘Are you ready to give me your answer?’
And was met with an even-toned, ‘Yes. It’s still no.’
For the most part Violet congratulated herself on maintaining a decent enough composure. The only moments of vulnerability happened six days into her enforced stay, when she woke to hear the sound of a different sort of engine. The sleek speedboat had delivered a distinguished-looking Montegovan doctor and his two assistants, and myriad quantity of medical equipment, including a state-of-the-art portable ultrasound machine.
She hid her joy, unwilling to show Zak how much she’d been yearning to hear her baby’s heartbeat for the first time.
He threatened to ruin the moment when, watching the equipment being set up, he leaned low to rasp in her ear, ‘If you’re thinking of spilling your guts to the doctor or his team, don’t bother. He’s been my personal physician since birth. I trust him implicitly. But should he even consider being disloyal, trust that I have far more extensive resources to secure his discretion than you could ever dream up.’
She hated herself for her sharp, vulnerable intake of breath. For the arrow of hurt that lodged in her midriff. More than anything, she hated herself for having considered doing exactly that, then instantly dismissing it with no clear reason why she’d abandon such an expedient route off the island. ‘You’re a bastard, do you know that?’ she hissed.
His face hardened as he stared down at her. ‘I’m a lot of things, mia carina, but that label isn’t one of them. It’s also a label I wish to prevent my child from wearing, if only you’d see sense,’ he sliced at her, the edge in his voice momentarily setting hers aflame.
That she was absurdly glad for that glimpse of a deeper reaction from him only intensified when, stretched out in her bed minutes later, she watched the monitor in awe as she looked at the grainy picture of her child, and then redirected her gaze to Zak at his unfettered intake of breath.
His raw, naked expression, his inability to look away from the monitor or his complete unawareness that he’d grasped her hand, wrapped dangerously tender strings around her chest. She clung to him, aware that her guard had disintegrated, that she yearned to ask him how he truly felt about the baby she was carrying.
‘Everything is precisely as it should be,’ the doctor announced then, shattering the moment. ‘Congratulations, Your Highness.’ He turned to her, his professionalism not quite hiding the speculation in his eyes. ‘And to you, Lady Barringhall.’
Zak started, his stormy gaze dropping down to hers. The next instant, he’d reclaimed his composure, directing a dark frown at their entwined hands before calmly disengaging his. Then, arms stiffly folded, he proceeded to direct questions at his doctor.
Despite his withdrawal, Violet hadn’t been able to quite catch her breath, the notion that Zak might feel something deeper for his child other than as his heir threatening her composure.
Made her pause for a millisecond to consider...possibilities. Rationally, she knew his imperiously worded proposal was because of the child she carried. That he intended to wrap the tight cloak of royalty and privilege and years of history around his child.
But was there something more?
And what about her?
If she’d learned anything from her mother’s feverish ambitions to marry her daughters off to rich, titled husbands for her own selfish ends, it was that those kinds of marriages were shockingly common. And, more often than not, it left one or both participants jaded and miserable within a few years, resulting in infidelity or the kind of open marriages whispered about at dinner parties.
The very thing she’d striven for years to get away from.
But had this gone beyond her?
Was she holding out for what she wanted in complete disregard for the needs of her child? Would her baby despise her one day for the choices she’d made? For choosing her own path instead of bowing down to the decree of its father?
Was she allowing her own childhood experiences to cloud her judgement to the detriment of her unborn child? But wasn’t that what parents were supposed to do? Carefully weigh options and decide what was best for their child?
Was that what Zak had been doing? It occurred to her then that everything she knew about Zak had been mostly second-hand.
Except for that kiss.
Except for that unforgettable episode in Tanzania.
But that was just sex. She didn’t actually know the man. And...some of that blame lay with her. Didn’t it?
Do you even know anything about his childhood?
She pushed the thought away, the notion that she was beginning to make excuses for her chilly silence these past two weeks eating at her.
He’d kidnapped her.
Yes, but it hadn’t turned out to be the nightmare she’d envisaged, had it? While she’d refused to explore the island on principle, she’d availed herself of the extensive library adjoining Zak’s study, been secretly thrilled to discover a wealth of conservation books she’d been dying to read.
Not to mention the personal treats he’d showered on her.
