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The barman laughed at something he said and it made Winifred want to smile too. Augustine was good with people. He was so charming and always knew the right thing to say to make people forget he was a king and treat him like a friend.
The people of Isavere loved him despite his playboy reputation. Or maybe they loved him because of it.
She loved him too, even though she shouldn’t.
She shouldn’t be noticing, either, the way the dim lighting of the bar found the gold strands in his dark tawny hair and set them alight. Or how the white cotton of his business shirt fit his wide shoulders, or the dark blue wool of his trousers pulled tight over his powerful thighs and showed off the span of his narrow waist.
She shouldn’t be looking at how that light outlined the beautiful lines of his face, the long aquiline nose and high cheekbones. The sensual curve of his gorgeous mouth as he chatted with the barman, giving one of his brilliant, charismatic smiles.
He gave that smile a lot. He was profligate with that smile. It was a lethal weapon, laying waste to his enemies and making slaves of everyone he met.
He never gave it to her, though, and she was glad he didn’t. Because that smile was also a mask and he didn’t need that mask with her. He didn’t need to be anything with her but himself, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
You still shouldn’t be noticing any of those things about him.
Her heart clenched tight behind her breastbone.
She’d thought she’d be able to put the night she’d spent in his bed behind her. She’d thought she’d never think of it again. It had been three months after all. Yet, despite everything, that night was all she thought about.
She couldn’t get it out of her head.
You have to. Your job, the future you want for your sisters, depends on it.
But that was the problem. The night she’d had with him was the whole reason she was standing here waiting to speak to him, her palms sweaty and nervous tension roiling in her gut.
The reason she was facing having to ask him for six months off. Six months he wasn’tgoing to give her and yet which she absolutelyhadto have.
She’d been putting it off and putting it off, and this morning, when she hadn’t been able to get the zip on her skirt even halfway up, she knew she’d couldn’t put it off any longer. He was going to notice and that couldn’t happen.
He couldn’t know she was pregnant with his baby. Everything would be ruined if he did. He’d find out it had been her that night in his bed, and that she hadn’t told him who she was. That she’d hidden her pregnancy from him for three months. He’d be so angry and he’d no doubt fire her, and she’d lose her job. She’d lose the potential to save more money for her sisters’ future.
And hedefinitelywouldn’t be happy at the news he was going to be a father. He’d always been clear that he didn’t want children, and while she’d debated telling him she was pregnant anyway, she’d decided in the end not to.
She couldn’t bear for her baby to grow up with a parent who didn’t want them the way she had. Her own mother hadn’t been interested in Winifred’s upbringing or in that of her sisters, and she’d often told Winifred that she hadn’t wanted children. Certainly, she’d never cared about them because if she had then Aaron, her mother’s boyfriend, wouldn’t have thought he could simply help himself to them.
Not that Winifred herself would be any better as a parent. She was a criminal just like her mother was, and she wouldn’t allow her child to suffer the same fate. She had to break the cycle somehow.
At the bar, Augustine half glanced in her direction, the lights striking yet more gold from his dark hair, while his sharp blue-green gaze swept over her. He wasn’t smiling now, his mouth hard and stern, the phenomenal intellect he liked to hide looking out from behind his eyes.
He was...breathtaking.
‘What is it, Freddie?’ he asked in the deep, melted-honey voice that always made her want to shiver. ‘I don’t need you tonight, in case you’re wondering.’
She’d been going to leave this conversation till they were back in Isavere—Augustine had just completed an official visit to the States—but then he’d decided he had a sudden hankering for Singapore and so they’d made a detour. She wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay here and since there was no telling whether he might want to go someplace else afterwards, she’d thought she’d better ask him now.
The sooner they had this conversation the better.
‘Sorry, sir,’ she said. ‘I need to ask you something. It won’t take longer than a couple of minutes.’ She paused then added, ‘In private.’
Augustine lifted one straight dark brow. ‘That sounds portentous.’ He stared at her a moment, then gave the barman an apologetic look. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’
The man inclined his head, then disappeared out the back, leaving her and Augustine alone.
Winifred resisted the urge to wipe her palms on the stretchy black skirt she’d had to emergency buy that morning. ‘Thank you, sir.’
He’d turned on his bar stool, one heel resting on the lower rung, the other on the floor. He had his elbow on the bar itself, his jacket thrown carelessly on the stool next to him.
He was so gorgeous, with his white business shirt open at the neck and no tie, shirtsleeves rolled up. Casual, approachable, effortlessly elegant.
