The Scorsolini Marriage Bargain

One of the things that had hurt the most this past few months was seeing what a Scorsolini prince in love acted like and acknowledging it was nothing like Claudio’s behavior toward her.

“My brothers are not in line to be the next ruler of Isole dei Re. They can afford to put duty second on occasion. The country does not depend so heavily on them. And their wives do not have the same requirements put upon you as my wife.” He spoke like a teacher reciting a lesson to a student that he had recited many times before.

The practiced patience in his voice was worse than if he’d snapped at her.

“I miss you,” she said baldly.

“I have been gone less than a day.”

“Are you saying you don’t miss me?” she asked, wishing the question did not feel like a razor shredding her insides. So much for him wishing she was there.

“I will miss you tonight.”

If he had planned it, he could not have said anything more wounding. “In bed,” she said flatly.

“We are good there.”

“But nowhere else?” she asked, for once making no effort to hide how much that displeased her.

“Do not be ridiculous. You are my wife, not my concubine. Why would you even ask such a question?”

“Perhaps because that is the only place you deign to miss me.”

“I did not say that.”

“Excuse me, but you did.”

“I did not call you to get into an argument.” The frozen tone of his voice came across the phone line loud and clear. “But for the record, if you took what I said to mean such a thing, it did not.”

Maybe he didn’t know he meant it that way, but he had. The facts spoke for themselves.

“Why did you call? We both know it was not merely to say hello. I don’t rate those kinds of phone calls from you.”

“What is the matter with you? Perhaps that is exactly why I called.”

She wasn’t even remotely convinced. “Not likely.”

“I was thinking of you and wanted to hear your voice, all right?” he asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed with her.

Oh. Man. Did he mean it?

Of course he meant it. Claudio never consciously lied, but still she had to ask, “Is that true?”

“I do not make it a habit of lying to you.”

“I know you don’t. It’s one of the things I appreciate most about you.”

Her father had lied to her, to her mother, to anyone at all…all for the sake of convenience and had called it diplomacy. But she didn’t think that that kind of diplomacy belonged in a family. It was best saved for other politicians, all of whom were expecting it.

“Can you say the same thing?”

Shock coursed through her that he would ask such a thing. “Of course I can. You know I don’t lie to you.”

“Only perhaps you do not feel withholding information from me is the same as lying?” he asked.

Could he know about her condition? Impossible…she’d been far too careful to keep it a secret. “I don’t know what you mean.” That at least was no lie, but it was also not the full truth. Perhaps there was more of her father in her than she wanted to admit.

“Are you sure about that?”

“No one tells everything, but that doesn’t mean I lie to you,” she said, defending a position he did not know why she’d taken. But there was no way she could tell him the news of her infertility over the phone.

“I hope that is true, Therese.” He sighed. “I have another call coming in. I have to go.”

“All right. Goodbye, Claudio.”

“Goodbye, bella.”

She hung up the phone, but as she got ready for the day and then left her apartments to traverse the grand marbled hallways of the palace, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said, what she had said and what she hadn’t been able to say. She owed him the truth—both about her condition and what she planned to do because of it.

He would be relieved. He had to be.

But a tiny part of her heart hoped against all logic that he wouldn’t be. That he might even refuse to let her do the right thing…the only logical thing to do in the circumstances.

Walk away.

“Your Highness…”

Therese looked up from her musings to find her personal secretary standing in front of her. At one time Ida had worked for her mother, but the year Therese had married, her mom had sacked Ida in order to hire someone else. The other woman was younger and had connections high in the social set Therese’s parents were now moving in. Ida had been only too happy to accept Therese’s offer of a job.

Ida’s loyalty was unwavering, her discretion without equal and her finesse with a schedule second to none. She was the only other person besides Therese’s Miami doctor and his assistant who knew about the laparoscopy and the results.