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She turned to Stella. “What do you think?”
“Wow.” The princess’s gaze widened. “You look hot. Perfect, sophisticated, pregnant, queen-to-be hot.”
Her stomach tightened. If she was to be queen. It had been two weeks since her and Nik’s blowout. Two weeks since she had tossed her ultimatum in his face and her heart along with it. Two weeks in which he hadn’t touched her, had spent all his time working on this summit while she worried they were done.
She bit her lip. “You’re sure about the dress? If there’s any doubt in your mind, I’ll wear Francesco’s.”
Stella poked her in the shoulder. “There is no doubt in my mind. You are amazingly talented. Now grab your bag. We’re late.”
They were indeed late as they met the event liaison in the lobby of the palace for the photo op, to be followed by lunch with the wives of the foreign leaders. The buttoned-up, stern-looking woman frowned at them. “Everyone is gathered outside already.”
“So we make a grand entrance,” Stella came back mischievously, hooking her arm through Sofi´a’s.
Sofi´a smiled through her misery as she and Stella stepped out into the bright Akathinian sunlight, the gods electing to greet their international guests with the country’s usual golden splendor instead of the bizarre rain they’d had for the past week. Stella tugged her to a halt halfway down the steps. “Show off your dress.”
The princess had a reputation for being a fashionista, too. The photographers swarmed to get a shot of her and Sofi´a, their flashes going off like mad.
“Stella. Is it true you are dating Aristos Nicolades?” a photographer yelled.
What? Sofi´a angled a look at Stella. “Tell me you’re not.”
The princess lifted a brow at the reporter. “Where do you get these ideas?”
Sofi´a’s gaze flew to Nik, who stood at the bottom of the steps with the gathered contingent, his eyes fixed on his sister. His furious eyes. They glittered an electric blue in the sun, set off by his dark suit, crisp white shirt and ice-blue tie. When he turned them on her she went a bit weak at the knees at the banked intensity in them.
It took her right back to the night in New York at the Met when he had looked at her like that, the night that had set in motion a chain of events that had landed them here. And still she didn’t know how it was going to end.
“Fabulous dress, Sofi´a,” a photographer called out. “Who’s it by?”
She lifted her chin, her heart swelling. “It’s mine. I plan to launch a new line in my New York boutique next year.”
“Would that be for a maternity line?”
She opened her mouth to fluff it off per usual, with the official announcement to come next week and who knew where she and Nik would be by then? Nik broke away from the crowd and climbed the steps to her side before she could find an appropriately evasive response.
“Yes,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. “Sofi´a and I are thrilled to say we are expecting our first child.”
Stella choked out a sound beside her at the breach in protocol. The paparazzi went crazy with their cameras.
“What did you do that for?” Sofi´a demanded beneath her breath. “Now they’re going to be a pack of wild animals.”
“Because we are having a baby, agapi mou. It was getting painful watching you try to skirt the question.”
She forced a smile to her lips as the flashes continued to go off. “Don’t you think a press release is a better idea if we’re not going to be together?”
He turned that ice-blue gaze on her. “I’m never letting you go, Sofi´a. Ever.”
“You don’t have a choice,” she pointed out, maintaining her smile. “I told you I’m leaving after this if you don’t let me in.”
“That gives me twenty-four hours to change your mind.”
She forgot about the cameras entirely, her heart tumbling to the concrete. “Nik—”
“Later,” he growled, releasing her. “Unless you would like an audience for this.”
No. No, she wouldn’t.
They moved on to lunch. In the afternoon the leaders sat down once again to hash out a solution to the issue at hand. The palace PR person was called in to handle the communications crisis that erupted around the coming royal baby. By the evening news, the story was splashed across every news outlet on the planet with all kinds of sensational taglines attached to it. Jumping the Gun seemed to be a favorite, followed closely by Out of Wedlock Shock.
