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But then, wasn’t it any wonder she was feeling so ill? She’d only just come from the doctor’s and was still reeling from the shock of finding out that she didn’t have a virus or the flu. What she had was a classic case of pregnancy. And probably facing Xerxes now was a terrible mistake, but she couldn’t in good conscience wait. He had to know and the sooner the better.
Your timing is awful.
Yes, but then, the whole thing was awful and there was never going to be a good time. And she’d wanted to tell him before his engagement was announced so he could decide what he wanted to do about it. Not that she expected anything from him.
He was a prince and she was a guard and their reputations—
Oh, God...
Another wave of nausea churned uncomfortably in her stomach. Her mouth was dry, her heartbeat through the roof. Her fingers had gone cold and they were tingling and she had no idea why.
Xerxes stood there, impossibly handsome in his black-and-gold uniform, the roaring lion pin that denoted him Defender gleaming against the inky fabric. The uniform suited him, accentuating his height and the dark charisma that surrounded him. His beautifully carved face was expressionless, his eyes as shadowed as the night around them, no gleam of gold hidden in the depths this time.
Longing coiled helplessly through her, the longing she’d been fighting for weeks. The physical pull that dragged on her whenever he was around. The need inside her that ached for one more night, one more touch. Even a glance in her direction.
But he’d done exactly what he’d told her he would: he’d ignored her.
She’d tried to do the same. Had thought it would be easy. That she could put the armour of the soldier back on, find her discipline and her commitment once again, go back to being who she was before that night with him.
Yet it had been impossible. Her armour had cracks running through it, vulnerabilities she hadn’t noticed before, vulnerabilities that he’d put there when he’d stripped it from her. And it didn’t protect her any more, not the way it needed to, the way it had been doing for years before he’d shown up.
That terrible longing had worked its way through those cracks. The ache filled her soul whenever she thought of that night and the freedom she’d found in his arms. And no matter how hard she tried to patch those cracks, fix those holes, those forbidden emotions somehow found their way in all the same.
She didn’t understand why. She’d been so sure one night would be enough for her to indulge those inexplicable urges of hers, get them out of the way and over for good. That what they’d shared was physical only. So why she still felt these things, she had no idea.
You know how that ends.
The nausea inside her doubled and she had to fight to keep it down.
The prince lifted his other perfectly arched brow. ‘I beg your pardon?’
Surely he wasn’t going to make her say it again? Surely.
She searched his face for any sign of the man who’d held her in his arms, who’d kissed her passionately, taken her fiercely. Who’d told her that she was killing him...
But there was no sign of that man, only the imperious prince, looking at her as if she was merely something dirty he’d happened to get on his shoe.
She wanted to meet that look with her usual steel, to ignore the tangling emotions inside her. And once upon a time that had been easy. Once, she’d been able to just pretend they didn’t exist.
But now it was as if her ability to do so had been broken and she couldn’t do it.
Her throat closed up, her eyes prickling. And all she could think of was that this had been a mistake, an awful, awful mistake. He didn’t want to know that she was pregnant. Of course he wouldn’t. Why would he? She was merely some guard he’d slept with and here she was, at his engagement party of all things, telling him she was pregnant with his child.
She was lucky she hadn’t been thrown out on the street, though there was still time for that.
It was a warm evening but she felt cold and sick to her stomach. And when she opened her mouth to repeat herself, he only raised a hand, silencing her. Then he turned his head and someone in royal livery appeared at his elbow, the same staff member she’d pleaded with to get him to speak to the prince just before.
And then things happened very quickly.
Without a word, the aide took her arm and hustled her into the palace and she thought that she was indeed going to be thrown out on her ear. But they weren’t going in the direction of the main entrance or even the staff entrance. She was being led down various stone corridors and up a flight of stairs, towards the wing where the royal family lived instead.
Then, much to her shock, she was led into a small room that was warm and furnished with a couple of plush armchairs, a small fire burning in the grate.
‘Wait here, please,’ the aide said, not unkindly, then withdrew, leaving her alone in the room.
It was very quiet, no noise at all from the engagement party penetrating the thick stone walls.
Calista shivered. Why had she been taken here? What was Xerxes going to do? She shouldn’t have come. She’d been shocked and probably wasn’t thinking straight; she wasn’t thinking straight now either. Perhaps she should simply leave...
