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He was quiet.
‘Did you think about how I’d feel?’
‘No.’ He swept his eyes shut. ‘I told myself you were just like me—looking for a weekend of pleasure. Casual, easy sex.’
‘I think the term “casual sex” is oxymoronic,’ she said stiffly, turning away from him so she didn’t see the way his expression shifted, the way a fierce blade of possession pressed into him.
‘If I had known you were a virgin...’
‘I didn’t lie to you intentionally,’ she muttered. ‘I just got caught up in how I felt. It was all so overwhelming.’
He dipped his head forward in silent concession. ‘It is in the past,’ he said. ‘What I’m interested in dealing with is our future.’
And here it was. The custody discussion she’d been dreading. And as the days had turned into months and her status as a single mother had been firmly established, she’d come to accept that it was a conversation she’d never need to have. Now, though, faced with the father of her baby, she had no interest in denying him his right to see their child. To be a part of his life. Even when his admission that he’d gone into their affair expecting it to be ‘casual sex’ had cut her deep inside.
‘After I left you, I went back to Tolmirós and took up the position that was my birthright.’
She frowned. ‘Just what kind of family business are you in?’
His smile was more like a grimace. ‘It is not a business, Frankie. My name is Matthias Vasilliás and I am the King of Tolmirós.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘I’M SORRY.’ SHE blinked slowly. ‘I thought you just said you were...’ She laughed, a brittle sound of disbelief. ‘I mean, is this some kind of joke?’
But she looked around the penthouse with new eyes, seeing the degree of luxury and wealth as if for the first time, understanding how uniquely positioned a person would have to be to enjoy this kind of residence. And it wasn’t just this ludicrously expensive apartment—how much would something like this even cost? More than she could imagine, that was for sure. And she saw everything through the veil of his words and her stomach dropped and her knees shook. Because it was so obvious now.
Even then, staying at a hotel, he’d been so different to anyone she’d ever known. He’d spoken to her of ancient myths and he’d weaved magic into her being.
He’d been totally unique. A king.
‘It’s no joke. That weekend with you was my way of trying to ignore the reality of how my life was about to change, of pretending I wasn’t about to take the throne and the mantle of King. But I do not believe in hiding, Frankie. And so I left you in order to return to my country, my people, and my role as ruler.’
His words came to her from very far away.
He was a king.
Which meant... Oh, God. She reached behind her for the sofa, dropping down into it with a thud and drinking her wine as though it were a lifeline.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, moving closer to her, the word drawn from deep in his throat. ‘Our son is my heir. He is a prince, Frankie.’
‘But...he’s not... We weren’t married.’ She clutched at straws desperately. ‘So doesn’t that mean he can’t be your heir?’
His expression darkened and he took a moment to answer. ‘It complicates matters,’ he agreed eventually, with a shrug. ‘But nothing changes the fact he is the future of my people.’
She swallowed, his certainty formidable.
‘Do you remember the Myth of Elektus?’
She swayed a little, the words he’d spoken that night burned into her memories. ‘No,’ she lied huskily, staring out at New York.
‘My family has ruled Tolmirós for over a millennium. Our line remains unbroken. Wars and famines consumed neighbouring countries but, within the borders of Tolmirós, life has been prosperous and stable. The myth of our First Ruler is one my people hold in their hearts, even now. It is believed that my family’s lineage is at the root of Tolmirós’s wealth and happiness. Leo is not simply a boy—he is the fulfilment of a myth and ruling Tolmirós is his destiny, as much as it was mine.’
The magic he’d wound around her heart was weaving into her soul once more, and her beautiful child, who was so kingly, even as a child, began to pull away from her as she saw him as a figure of the fabric of this faraway country.
But he wasn’t only the heir to Tolmirós?
?s throne: he was her son. A child she had grown in her belly and nursed through fevers and helped to take his first step. He was a child she’d read to every night of his life, played ball with, lain beside when night terrors had caused him to cry out.
