The Future King's Pregnant Mistress

Under cover of the rooms darkness. Emily grimaced to hear the note of pleading in her own voice. Why, when she despised herself so much for what she was becoming, couldn't she stop herself? Was she destined always to have relationships that resulted in her feeling insecure?

'Nothings wrong.' Marco told her. There was a note in his voice that made her body tense and her emotions flinch despite everything she was trying to do not to let that happen. The trouble was that once you started lying to yourself on an almost hourly, never mind daily, basis about the reality of your relationship, once you started pretending not to notice or care about being the lesser' partner, about not being valued or respected enough, you entered a place where the strongest incentive was not to seek out the truth but rather to hide from it. But she had no one but herself to blame for her current situation, she reminded herself.

She had known right from the start what kind of man Marco was and the type of relationship he wanted with her. The problem was that she had obviously known Marco’s agenda rather better than she had understood her own. Although she tried not to do so sometimes when she was feeling at her lowest—times like now—she couldn't stop herself from giving in to the temptation of fantasising about how Marco could be different: he would not be so fabulously wealthy or arrogantly sexy that he could have any woman he wanted, but instead he'd be just an ordinary man with ordinary goals—a happy marriage, a wife...Her heart kicked heavily, turning over in a slow grind of pain. She thought of children—theirs—and it turned over again, the pain growing more intense.

Why had she been such a fool and fallen in love with Marco? He had made it plain from the start what he wanted from her and what he would give her back in return, and love had never been part of the deal. But then, way back when, she had never imagined that she would fall for him. At the beginning, she had wanted Marco so much, she had been happy to go along with a purely sexual relationship, for as long as he wanted her.

No. she had no one but herself to blame for the constant pain she was now having to endure, the deceit she was having to practise and the fear that haunted her: one day soon Marco would sense that deceit and leave her. She loathed herself so much for her own weakness and for not having the guts to acknowledge her love or take the consequences of walking away from him through the inevitable fiery consuming pain. But who knew? Maybe walking away from Marco would have a phoenix-like effect on her and allow her to find freedom as a new person.

She was such a coward, though, that she couldn't take that step. Hadn't someone once said that a brave man died only once but a coward died a thousand times? So it was for her. She knew that she ought to leave and deal with her feelings, but instead she stayed and suffered a thousand hurtful recognitions every day of Marcos lack of love for her.

But he desired her and she couldn't bring herself to give up the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, things would change, and one day he would look at her and know that he loved her that one day he would allow her to access that part of himself he guarded with such ferocity and tell her that he wanted them to be together for ever...

CHAPTER TWO

THAT was Emily’s dream. But the reality was recently, shed felt as if they were growing further apart rather than closer. Shed told herself yesterday morning she would face her fear. She took a deep breath.

‘Marco. I've always been open and...and honest with you...’ It was no good, she couldn't do it. She couldn't make herself ask him that all-important question: Do you want to end our relationship?' And besides, she hadn't always been honest with him had she? She hadn't told him for instance, that she had fallen in love with him. Her heart gave another painful lurch.

Marco was watching her, his head inclined towards her. He wore his thick dark hair cut short, but not so short that she couldn't run her fingers through it shaping the hard bone beneath it as she held him to her when they made love. There was just enough light for her to see the gleam in his eyes, as though he'd guessed the direction her thoughts had taken and knew how much she wanted him. Marco had the most piercingly direct look she'd ever known. He'd focused it on her the night they'd met when she had tried to cling to reason and rationality, instead of letting herself be blatantly seduced by a pair of tawny-brown predators eyes...

Emily knew she should make her stand now and demand an explanation for the change she could sense in Marco, but her childhood made it difficult for her to talk openly about her emotions. Instead she hid them away behind locked doors of calm control and self-possession. Was it because she was afraid of what might happen if she allowed her real feelings to get out of control? Because she was afraid of bringing the truth out into the open? Something was wrong. Marco had changed: he had become withdrawn and preoccupied. There was no way she could pretend otherwise. Had he grown tired of her? Did he want to end their relationship? Wouldn't it be better, wiser, more self-respecting, if she challenged him to tell her the truth? Did she really think that if she ignored her fears they would simply disappear?