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‘Another word for a sham? Been there, done that,’ she said tiredly. The emotional and physical stress of the past days, and maybe the pregnancy hormones, were making their strength-sapping presence felt and her fight was being replaced by a dangerous fatalism.
Perhaps sensing her defences were failing, he leaned in towards her, bringing their faces level; she met his eyes and felt guilty for doubting his sincerity. There was nothing sham about the emotions rolling off him.
When she thought about it later, she decided it was the emotion in his face, the concern and self-recrimination that made her stop fighting the inevitable.
She lifted her chin. ‘Things will have to change…if I come back,’ she tacked on quickly.
‘I promise there will be no managing.’
‘I want to be more than a decorative accessory; I want to be treated as an equal, not patronised. Oh…’ Her head dropped a little as she looked at him through the veil of her dark lashes. ‘I don’t want you to tell anyone, not until I’m three months along and things are…safer.’
‘My parents?’
She gave a tiny laugh that left her blue eyes sombre. ‘Especially your parents.’ She did not think she could stand any of their insincerity. They wanted a royal baby and for a while she’d be flavour of the month, but she knew that before long they’d be planning behind the scenes how to detach her from the baby.
Did the conviction make her paranoid? Well, better that than naive.
‘They don’t like me, they never liked me…which is fine, because I don’t like them either.’
After a moment, he nodded. ‘This waiting, secrecy…did the doctor indicate that anything was amiss? That there is a potential problem with this pregnancy, with you?’ The tautness in him rose visibly as his sharpened glance moved across her face.
‘No, it’s just early, and if anything did happen like before…’ She felt the tears form in her eyes and looked away, the muscles in her pale slender throat working as she fought to contain her fears. ‘I don’t want anyone else to know. I don’t care what you tell them, just—’
Dante dropped the hand that lay curved around her cheek and, rising to his feet, stepped back. The ferocious surge of protectiveness he was experiencing as he watched her was less easy to step away from.
‘Nothing will happen.’
‘You can’t say that,’ she choked back, looking at him through glistening blue eyes. ‘Because it does, for some people, over and over and—’ Her voice cracked as she swallowed and felt a big fat tear trickle down her face as she felt his hand slide to the back of her head. ‘I really don’t think I could bear that,’ she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.
Helplessness and a fierce wave of protectiveness arched through him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her silky head and stroked her hair as she wept out her fear.
The sobs that shook her subsided but she allowed herself a few moments of lying there, taking comfort from the solidity of his chest, the strength of his arms, finally heaving a deep sigh as she pulled free.
‘Thank you,’ she said with a loud sniff.
Dante felt something nameless twist hard inside him as he rose from the kneeling position he had fallen to beside the sofa. ‘You are welcome.’
‘I must look terrible.’
‘Horrific. That’s better,’ he approved as she gave a watery smile. ‘And soon you will get fat and you won’t be able to see your feet.’
Will you still love me?
The words stayed in her head because he didn’t love her now.
