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‘How long do you think they’re going to last?’
She shrugged. ‘Long enough. And when they run out, I can find myself a job as a housekeeper—somewhere which will provide a roof over my head for me and my baby.’
‘A housekeeper?’ he exclaimed in horror. ‘You think I would ever allow you to bring up the future prince or princess of Zahristan as the child of a housekeeper?’
‘But you can’t...’ Her fingers moved to her neck, spreading wide as if to disguise the flickering pulse there. ‘You can’t stop me.’
‘You don’t think so?’ He gave a cynical laugh. ‘I can certainly try. I can assign bodyguards and have you watched twenty-four-seven. Every move you make will be reported back to me and analysed.’ His eyes were dark. Dark as the coal at the bottom of a bunker which had never seen daylight. ‘And before you protest that such a move would be invasive—let’s just say I am protecting what is mine.’
‘The courts will ask you to pay maintenance.’ There was raw appeal in her voice now. ‘And I’m not too stupid or too proud to turn it down. Surely that’s enough to reassure you that the baby and I won’t be living in poverty.’
‘Yes, I will pay maintenance,’ he affirmed coldly. ‘I don’t need a court of law to make me honour my obligations. But my child will not have the life it is owed by royal blood. By turning down my offer of marriage, you are condemning he or she to a life of illegitimacy. Is that really what you want, Hannah?’
Hannah flinched as Kulal’s words pierced through her armour at last. Having worked his way through all other arguments, had he saved the most powerful for last? Oh, why had she told him about her sordid past? Had she really been naïve enough to think he wouldn’t store up that information and use it against her if needed? Because her illegitimacy—and Tamsyn’s—had always been the dull pain which had eaten away inside her. The shame which had provided the backdrop to their young lives. It had emphasised Hannah’s feelings of insecurity and although she’d pretended not to care about being born out of wedlock, she had cared. Things were different these days and nobody seemed to care very much whether a man and a woman went through a marriage ceremony before having a child, but it hadn’t always been that way.
And she was not carrying any child.
This was a royal child.
The flat of her hand drifted down to touch her belly, like someone touching wood for luck—but somehow Hannah sensed that there was no luck to be found. ‘I could run away and you could never find me,’ she breathed.
‘I would find you,’ he said.
He was beating down her arguments, one by one, and Hannah’s head was spinning as she tried to imagine what marriage to such a man would mean. A few minutes ago, he had taken her in his arms and kissed her and she had let him. She had done much more than let him—and he was experienced enough to realise how much she wanted him. She might have had the presence of mind to pull away, but what if he approached her during one of those vulnerable moments which seemed to be on the increase? What then?
Did she really imagine that a man like Kulal would be content to live a celibate life with his new bride?
Lifting her gaze to his, she tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but she could feel colour creeping into her cheeks as she asked the all-important question. ‘If I were to agree to this...marriage.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Do you mean a marriage in...in every sense of the word?’
He seemed to find her discomfiture amusing. ‘There’s no need to look so terrified, Hannah—I won’t be chaining you to the bed and demanding my conjugal rights. Unless that’s your secret fantasy, of course.’ He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘The purpose of marriage is procreation and since we’ve achieved that without really trying, that just leaves sex. And we’re both adults. We both need that release. In fact, I think the sex could work very well between us, since neither of us are blinded by emotion.’
‘I can’t...’ She shook her head, shocked by the matter-of-fact way he had just come out and spoken about release. As if they were nothing but a pair of rutting animals. ‘I can’t think about that right now. It’s all such a lot to take in.’
‘Indeed it is. For both of us.’ His gaze grew thoughtful. ‘And you still haven’t given me your answer.’
Hannah stared at him, knowing there was only one answer she could give him. Because she didn’t have the energy or the inclination to spend her life fighting all that royal power and might, not when she suspected that, ultimately, Kulal would win. ‘I will marry you, yes—to make our baby legitimate.’
‘Good.’
‘And if we find living together intolerable—what then?’
‘If we agree from the outset not to make unrealistic demands on each other, then I see no reason why we should find it intolerable.’
‘What kind of...unrealistic demands are you talking about?’
His face darkened, his hawk-like features tautening into a forbidding mask. ‘I’m talking about love,’ he said harshly. ‘I don’t ever want your love, Hannah. Do you understand?’
He said the word as if he had just sworn. As if it were a curse. And Hannah couldn’t decide whether to commend him for his honesty or chastise him for his arrogance. Did he just assume that every woman would end up falling in love with him, no matter how badly he treated them? ‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that, Kulal,’ she said. ‘But if we can’t make it work...’ she met the gleam of his eyes and said what needed to be said ‘...then I want your word that you will grant me my freedom and let me return to England.’
Kulal felt a wave of pity as she looked at him, but he didn’t comment. Did she really think he would ever allow her to take his child out of the country? That he would meekly grant her the divorce she would no doubt demand? Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, he clenched his fists. He had never imagined he could feel this way about something which didn’t even exist, but when he thought about his unborn baby, something fierce licked at the solid ice which had always surrounded his heart. Fatherhood had been thrust upon him without warning and his response to it had taken him by surprise. Because he wanted this child, he realised. Wanted it with a fervour he had never known before.
And this woman would not stand in his way.
‘We don’t have to think about that right now,’ he said silkily. ‘Let’s just get through the wedding, shall we?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE IMAGE WHICH stared back at her was strange and Hannah had never seen anything quite like it before. A woman clad entirely in a golden gown, the soft gleam emphasising the four-month curve of her fecund belly. The metallic shimmer looked more like armour than satin and her floaty veil of golden thread was held in place by a coronet of bright diamonds, which were fashioned to look like flowers.
