AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Since when?”
Her frown deepened. “What’s this really about, Your Highness?”
“What?”
“Why are you here, at my private apartment, the morning of your sister’s wedding, asking about how I’ve organized the day when I’ve kept this palace running for seven years?”
Something flickered in the chilly, sharp depths of his eyes. But then he blinked and it disappeared as he straightened.
“Ensuring my sister’s wedding day is going smoothly doesn’t sound like an unreasonable request to me.”
She bit back a sigh. No, it wasn’t unreasonable. She had picked a horrible day to go off script and not be ready to go her customary thirty minutes ahead of schedule.
Plus, if she kept fighting him, he might start asking more questions. What if she didn’t have an answer or, worse, what if she became flustered and blurted out something she shouldn’t?
“I apologize, Your Highness. I just need to get dressed. I’ll be in the grand ballroom in ten minutes.”
She started to close the door, but Alaric put a hand up to stop her.
“I didn’t come up here to chastise you.”
The thinnest thread of apology in his voice nearly undid her. Exhaustion sank into her skin, penetrated her bones in one fell swoop.
“Whatever your reasons, Your Highness, you are entitled to them.”Now would you just go away?“If you’ll excuse me, I really must get dressed.”
She must be more tired than she initially realized. Because as she started to turn away, she could have sworn she saw frustration tighten his mouth and darken his eyes. Alaric Van Ambrose didn’t get frustrated. He didn’t get excited. He didn’t get anything. He was aloof, detached, unemotional.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d even imagined that night in the gym, read too much into what she had perceived as the more relaxed nature of their working relationship the past year. If it wasn’t for the very physical proof of their lovemaking, she probably could have convinced herself that she’d dreamed about the burning heat of his gaze, the simmering passion that had boiled over as their bodies had joined in a frantic dance of need and pent-up desire.
“Clara.”
It took her a moment to realize he’d said it out loud, the first time he’d used it since he’d growled it right before his lips had slanted over hers, sent a shock of electricity through her veins. She jumped, started to turn. A hand fell on her shoulder, pressed the fluffy material flush against her skin. She jerked away, her breath coming out in a sharp exhale.
“Clara!”
Hands closed over her arms, steadied her. She sucked in a deep breath. Her lungs filled with his scent, the woodsy smell calming the rapid beating of her heart.
“Clara, if you don’t speak now, I’m calling the doctor and—”
“I’m fine, Your Highness.” She blinked rapidly and her vision filled with him: strong jaw tight with worry, full lips stretched into a thin line, the fit of his black pants and navy sweater on his muscular build.
“You’re not fine.”
“Look, I didn’t sleep well, and I’m just feeling a little under the weather.” She stepped back but he didn’t relinquish his grip on her arms.
“You’re pale, you have bags under your eyes, and you just jumped out of your skin. ‘Under the weather’ is an understatement.”
This time she managed to wrench free of his hold and took a large, purposeful step back.
“Just the words a girl needs to hear when she’s sick.”
Sick. Pregnant with your illegitimate child.
“I’m sending for the doctor.” Alaric turned away. “You’re right. Meira can handle the initial setup until you’re cleared.”
She stood there, mouth agape, as he disappeared from view. Then common sense returned and she rushed to the door.
“Your Highness, I—”
