“What about Venice? Had you been there before?”
“Once, but it’s been years now.” He cracked a smile. “It was during my sightseeing phase. I traveled at every opportunity, up until my father had a heart attack.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Hannah said.
“He recovered well,” Kyril said, gazing out at the ocean. “But after that, running the country fell to me. And that always takes precedence over escaping to this gorgeous place. My brothers were generous in letting me get away this time.”
“Do you miss it?” Hannah watched the way Kyril’s eyes danced in the setting sun. “Traveling, I mean.”
He thought for a moment before he answered. “I miss the anticipation of it. I can understand, perhaps more than most, why this trip is so important to you. I need those moments, too.”
“It’s all in the journey,” she said sagely, and he laughed.
“Truer words have never been spoken.” Kyril leaned back in his seat. “I will admit that the…scarcity makes me appreciate these adventures even more.” His expression settled into a serious set. “I enjoy it every moment I can, and I want that for you, too, Hannah.”
She sensed a shift into a heavier topic and considered parrying—they could talk about anything in the world, couldn’t they? But Hannah was too invested in the lamb, too invested in the man, to fight. At least this time.
“What do you mean?” She asked, though she was fairly sure she knew what he meant.
“It’s time to make some plans.” He straightened in his chair, and with that one simple movement, his power radiated from him. “It’s wonderful to live in the moment, but we must think of the future. Our child—” His eyes flickered to her belly and back to her face. “He or she will be a member of the royal family. At some point, we need to discuss those implications.”
Hannah nodded. “I’m listening.”
Kyril’s eyebrows rose. “All right.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I know you don’t intend to give up on being a mother. I don’t intend to give up my role as this child’s father.”
“Reasonable enough,” Hannah said, and the image of him with a baby in his arms flashed into her mind's eye as suddenly as lightning. Not just a baby—their baby.
“If we’re both committed, the only solution is for you to move to Al-Dashalid.”
It struck her then—the full realization of Kyril as sheikh. Her stomach flipped. “Yeah. I guess so,” she said softly. She’d always known it was a possibility. She had even, in some distant part of her mind, known it was likely that moving to Kyril’s country would be in her future.
He cleared his throat. “I hate to be so blunt, but it would be…difficult for you there.”
Hannah folded her hands on the table. “Difficult?”
“As an unattached foreigner, with no family—with no father or husband—you won’t have many rights. And the law is clear in Al-Dashalid. When the parents are not married, the father gains custody of any children.”
Hannah’s jaw clenched. She had to look away. The thought of handing over her child was too much.
“Hannah, I’m not making a threat,” Kyril said, taking her hand, calling her gaze back to him. “I’m only informing you of the law. It will be much better for everyone if we are married.”
A fierce protectiveness blazed through her. She would do anything for her baby, and her rights. This proposal—a practical, unromantic one—was the only one she was willing to consider.
“I’ll marry you.” Her voice was harder than steel, not the giddy exclamation she’d always imagined. “Right here and now. No fanfare. No—” She waved a hand in the air. “This is a practical decision and nothing more. I won’t give up my rights. Or my baby.”
Kyril took a deep breath, his eyes shining despite the seriousness of his expression. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But…”
“But what?” Hannah held his hand as if it were a life preserver in a roiling ocean. How had he become her anchor?
“My family is already planning a wedding.” For once in his life, Kyril looked sheepish. “It’s part of marrying into the royal family. And with my thirtieth birthday being the deadline, the planning—well, it’s already well underway, even if the bride is still a mystery.”
“I won’t have it.” Hannah straightened up, imagining her spine was hard as diamonds. “I’m not joining the royal family. I’m only securing my right to parent my child.” She forced her shoulders to lower away from her ears. “You’ll get your inheritance, so we—we’ll both win. But I won’t be a royal wife. I’ll make my own life in Al-Dashalid.”
“We’re in agreement, then. We'll marry here and work the rest out later.”
Hannah let it go. He’d come around. After all, she wouldn’t give him any choice.
9