One Night Heir (By His Royal Decree 1)
Gillian thought perhaps both Maks and Oxana should have considered that reality before this moment; this entire night had been a strange one.
Maks frowned and insisted, “Our family is not broken.”
The queen merely smiled that enigmatic smile and walked toward the limousine. “Come, Maksim. Ivan can drive your car back to the palace.”
“I wanted…”
“Gillian is too fatigued for a nighttime tour of the capital city. Come, Gillian. Bring my son with you.” The imperious tone wasn’t one Gillian would think of dismissing.
Thankfully Maks showed he was smart enough not to, either.
Soon, they were all ensconced in the limo, Maks’s car in Ivan’s care. Despite the roomy compartment, Maks kept Gillian so close she was practically sitting on his lap.
She didn’t mind. Not a bit. The closeness, his constant touching, it all helped overcome that sense of despondency she’d been feeling on the plane.
Laying her head on his chest, Gillian snuggled in as she wouldn’t have dreamed she could do in front of his very proper royal mother.
Once the car was moving, Oxana said, “Maksim, I am very displeased.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mother, but I will marry Gillian.”
“Of course you will. She’s the mother of your child.”
“She is sérce moje,” he said with conviction.
“That is all well and good, Maksim, to say she is your heart. What she does not realize is that she fills your heart. Her reaction to my presence on her plane made that very clear.”
“Mother,” Maks warned.
Gillian didn’t know what the queen was trying to prove, but whatever it was, Gillian was afraid it was going to end up breaking Gillian’s heart all over again.
“Fine.” Oxana crossed her arms in most unqueenly like fashion, a stubborn glint in her dark eyes. “You told me you love my son, Gillian.”
“Yes,” she croaked out.
Her feelings had been laid bare already. It shouldn’t hurt to have them dragged into the light right now, only it did. Very much.
And she really wasn’t sure why.
Oxana nodded, like she expected nothing less than Gillian’s agreement. Then she pressed, “Enough?”
“Yes.” It didn’t matter what Oxana meant, what Gillian loved Maks enough for.
She’d loved him enough not to go to him with news of her pregnancy to protect him and his freedom. She loved him enough for whatever it took to put his happiness above her own.
And then Gillian knew; this was the great power of love he could not understand.
But she knew it was there and would never again doubt the strength it could give her.
“Enough to give him his freedom after your child is born and a sufficient period of time has passed?” Oxana asked.
Gillian didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“No,” Maks barked at the same time, his volume much higher than hers, his conviction laced with desperation she didn’t understand.
If she did not know better, she would think he was the one unsure of her feelings for him.
He turned to her, his expression wounded in a way she’d never expected to see. “You will not leave me.”
“She knows that you are better off without her if you do not love her.” Oxana’s eyes were filled with both certainty and compassion.
Maks sucked in a harsh breath. “No.”
“Yes.” Gillian felt the pain of that admission, but it wasn’t greater than the strength of her love. “You deserve to find love, to live with the glorious knowledge that there is one person in this world whose happiness will always come ahead of your own.”
“No. Damn it to hell! You are not leaving me.” He turned a sulfuric glare on his mother. “If she leaves me, I will never forgive you.”
The certainty in his tone left no room to question his absolute sincerity in the statement.
Oxana flinched, but she never looked away from her son’s anger. “Why, Maksim? What would make you turn from your family so completely?”
“She is mine.”
“And are you hers?” Oxana asked, her own voice sharp with pained censure.
Gillian understood only too well. King Fedir had never been hers, but Oxana had given the man her own heart and life.
He’d squandered both and never realized it, or if he had, did not care.
“Yes. I am hers.” The ferocity in Maks’s tone was matched by the way he pulled Gillian tighter into his body.
She squeaked.
He looked down at her, but did not relax his hold. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, completely lost for words in this conversation that seemed to be leading a direction she’d been absolutely sure no discussion between her and Maks could ever go.
The Rolls-Royce stopped and Oxana set a gimlet stare on her son. “You will give her the words. You will not hold anything back from a woman who loves you enough to give you your freedom for the sake of your happiness even knowing it will decimate her own heart finally and forever.”
The queen got out of the car, walking toward the palace without looking back.
Tension vibrating off him like the aftershocks of an earthquake, Maks followed. Gillian went with them.
She had no choice. Maks had a hold of her and he wasn’t letting go.
Full stop. Period.
Gillian barely noticed the austere beauty of the palace’s architecture, or the opulence within. Her attention was fixed entirely on the man leading her across the massive foyer, up one side of a double marble staircase and down a long corridor.
He stopped when they’d gone into a room that could belong to no one but him with its masculine luxury.
He turned to face her. “Would you like a bath before bed?”
“Don’t I have my own room?”
He shrugged. Like it didn’t matter.
“I thought the idea wasn’t to make a big splash in the media. Won’t someone notice I’m sleeping in your room? That can’t be appropriate, surely?”
“I am Crown Prince—no one will question me.”
“The media don’t have to question. They just have to report.”
“Let them report it then.”
“Maks! You’re not thinking straight.”
He stared down at her, his jaw taut with emotion she was beginning to think exceeded anything he’d ever admitted to. “I thought my mother would try to convince you to leave me.”
“Why? You said she approved of me as your potential wife.”
His paranoia was irrational, emotionally driven.
The concept blew her belief abou
t their relationship straight into space. Because Maks claimed not to be motivated by emotion with her.
Had he been lying to himself and her?
“She went to meet you. She didn’t tell me beforehand. That kind of subterfuge never ends well.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong, Maks.”
“She suggested you leave me.” The pained betrayal in his tone hurt Gillian’s own heart.
But it made those champagne bubbles of hope start fizzing again too.
“Only after our child was guaranteed his or her place in the House of Yurkovich.”
“Do you think that is all that matters to me?” he demanded, his eyes wounded. “Is it all that matters to you?”
“You know it isn’t.”
“Then why would you leave me?”
“So you can find love.”
“I have already found love,” he shouted, his entire body rigid with feeling he didn’t seem able to keep inside anymore.
Emotion she had been utterly sure he didn’t have inside of him. “You broke up with me.”
“I should not have done.”
Could it be that simple?
“You need heirs.”
“I need you.”
“You do?” she asked softly, her heart blossoming like a rose under the sun.
He stopped and stared at her. “Koxána moja. I live for you. My brain is clouded with thoughts of you. I forget my place in the middle of a meeting and find myself texting you while businessmen and politicians watch, believing I am contacting someone of more importance than them. It is the truth, but not in a way most would understand.”
From his tone, it was obvious Maks wasn’t truly understanding it himself.
“The prospect of you leaving me again fills me with dread.” The intense feeling lacing his voice brought moisture stinging to her eyes. “What would you call it?”
“Love. I would call that love.”
Could it be true?
He stared at her, his expression so dismayed it was almost comical. “I just called you my love.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I will teach you the words, so you can say them to our children.”
“All right.”
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his expression stricken. “I love you, more than duty, I love you. And I tried to deny it. There are no words for the depths of my sorrow at my own cowardice.”