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It would be too humiliating if he guessed how deeply their night together had affected her. She could still feel the whisper of his touch on her skin. Still caught phantom whiffs of his cologne. Still felt her insides clench to remember how wonderful his lovemaking had been.
A member of staff held the chair out for her and she sat with a nod of thanks and cast her gaze around every person sat at the large oval table. Her family—her parents and two brothers, who Alessia was sandwiched between—and the family lawyer, sat at one end. At the other end sat Gabriel and a woman she assumed was his lawyer. The only person her eyes skimmed over rather than meeting their stare head-on was Gabriel. She’d intended to but at the very last second been unable to go through with it. She didn’t think she could bear to see the expression in his eyes.
Skimming her eyes didn’t stop the blood pumping through her body as she still somehow managed to soak in every last detail about him, from the impossibly uncreased white shirt he wore to the perfectly positioned quiff of the black hair she’d thrilled to run her fingers through.
Jutting her chin, she rested her hands flat on the table, praying no one could see the tremor in them, and purposefully faced Amadeo. Channelling their long-dead grandmother, who’d taken regal haughtiness to heights that deserved to be acknowledged as an art, she said, ‘Has he agreed to accept his responsibility?’
Gabriel had watched Alessia make her grand entrance with his heart in his mouth.
Feelings he couldn’t begin to describe had clawed and fisted his guts and heart since Amadeo’s bombshell. When he’d driven through the castle gates, the usual photographers on duty hoping to get a shot of a Berruti family member or newsworthy associate bound for disappointment by his blacked-out windows, the clawing and fisting had reached a pinnacle. Damn it, unless he treaded very carefully, this would be his life again.
The woman he’d never wanted to see again was pregnant with his child, and it enraged him that the blame for it was going to be laid on his shoulders by Alessia as well as her family. He’d thought better of her.
He’d thought better of himself too. But they’d both been there. They’d both got carried away and failed to use protection. After their first failure there had been little point in bothering with it, and truth was, the first time had been so damn glorious that he’d wanted to experience every single aspect of it again. Maybe that’s why it had felt so good, he thought darkly. That was the first time he’d made love without a barrier. He was clean. He’d assumed the princess was too, something else that weighed on his mind—since when did he give the benefit of the doubt to anyone about anything, especially with regards to his sexual health? Keeping himself safe, aka Contraception, was his responsibility. This had the added benefit of him never having to worry that there might be miniature Gabriel Serres roaming the earth, and, as all these thoughts flashed through his mind, he found himself wondering if this had been her plan all along, to seduce him and get impregnated by him. Because she sure as hell hadn’t mentioned that she wasn’t on the pill. He could forgive the first time they’d made love—the madness had trapped them both—but allowing him to make love to her a second time knowing there was nothing to stop an accidental conception? Not taking action to stop any conception when therewasstill time? Unforgiveable.
Intentional or accidental, he was there, about to negotiate for his life and the life of his unborn child. He could play hardball and insist they wait until the birth for a DNA test but knew it would do nothing but delay the inevitable. He knew in his heart the child was his, but if Alessia wanted him to go along with her family’s demands then she’d damned well better start showing him some respect or he would walk out of there and make the whole damn family wait until the birth for fresh negotiations.
He exhaled the anger that had spiked through him at Alessia’s contemptuous tone as well as her unjustified blame. He would not allowanyemotion to show. He needed to treat this like every negotiation he’d taken control of since he was a teenage boy negotiating his warring parents’ divorce.
‘I am more than willing to accept responsibility,’ he informed the side of her head icily, before her brother could speak. ‘The extent of that responsibility is still to be decided, but whatever the outcome of these negotiations, I will support my child and be a father to it.’
‘What is there to negotiate?’ Marcelo asked, his eyes blazing. ‘You’ve got my sister pregnant. You have to marry her.’
Gabriel folded his arms across his chest. ‘Actually, I don’t.’
‘You took advantage of her,’ Amadeo spat.
‘I took advantage of a twenty-three-year-old woman?’ he drawled with a hint of disdain.
Angry colour stained the heir’s cheeks. He would have said something else had Queen Isabella not placed her hand lightly on his. ‘You have to see things from our position,’ she said.
‘I do,’ Gabriel countered, ‘and as I understand it, you fear news of the princess’s pregnancy will cause a scandal in your country which, coming so close to the recent scandals, will dent your already waning popularity and lead to more voices joining the chorus for Ceres to become a republic. Is that the measure of it?’
Barely a flicker of emotion crossed the monarch’s face. ‘Yes.’
‘Then allow me to state my position. I will marry your daughter, and I will marry her for one reason only—to enable my child to be raised with a parent who prioritises their emotional wellbeing rather than leave them to the mercy of a family who cares more about duty and public perception than what’s best for them.’
There was a sharp intake of breath from every member of the royal family. With the exception of Alessia, who didn’t react at all.
He failed to understand why they should be shocked at his observation. After all, Amadeo was marrying to salvage the public’s perception of the Berrutis and head off talks of republicanism. Marcelo, however happy his marriage appeared to be, had married for the same reason. And now Alessia was being asked to do the same—and so was he. Three marriages to save a monarchy.
‘However, before I commit myself to a loveless marriage, I have conditions that must be agreed in writing.’
There was a long beat of silence before the queen asked, ‘And those conditions are?’
‘That Alessia and I do not live in the castle but in a suitable dwelling elsewhere on the estate. I will not have my life dictated by protocol within my own home. I will not have my life dictated by any means. So there are no ambiguities between us or things that can be left open to interpretation, let me be clear—I will not be a working member of your family. I will not attend palace functions that have the press corps in attendance, and that includes family functions like Prince Amadeo’s wedding. I will not undertake royal engagements. I will never do anything intentionally that will cause harm to your family but I will live out of the spotlight and remain autonomous in how I conduct my life.’ Ignoring the latest collective intake of breath, he continued with his demands. ‘My word as my child’s father will be absolute. Alessia and I will raise him how we see fit and there will be no argument or interference from any of you.’
At this, Alessia’s eyes finally met his. He caught the surprise in them and...was that admiration? Whatever it was, one blink and it was gone, replaced by an indifference that bordered on contempt.
‘Anything else?’ Amadeo asked through gritted teeth.
‘Yes. If we marry, it will be a private affair, and by private I mean immediate family only. No guests, no photographers, no press, just a simple statement after the deed has been done in which you can clarify my intention to live as a private person, and which brings me to my final condition—I will only marry Alessia if I have her personal assurance that she is in agreement and, as such, I ask you all to leave the room so we can discuss the matter in private.’ He deliberately held Amadeo’s stare. ‘I need to be satisfied that she gives her consent freely, so if you will excuse us...’
He let his words hang in the air. He doubted any member of this family had ever been spoken to in such a manner before. He wasn’t being deliberately provocative or disrespectful but he knew perfectly well that he needed to set his stall out early so there could be no misunderstandings.
The queen was the first to react. Rising to her feet—she was so short that even standing while the rest remained seated she barely reached her husband’s and sons’ heads—she looked him in the eye. ‘Speak to my daughter privately, by all means, but as you have spoken so freely, allow me the same courtesy. Whatever you think, I love my daughter. Whether you marry her or not, I will support her. We all will. And we will weather any storm that comes our way in the same way we always do—as a family.’
With only the briefest inclination of her head, she summoned the men of her family to their feet. In silence, they followed her out, the two princes towering over their mother and throwing daggers of loathing at Gabriel, and were quickly followed by the lawyers and other assorted staff.
