Crown Prince's Bought Bride

‘I’m trying to tell you that I think your worst fears have come true,’ she announced.

Remi froze, a wave of colour leaving his face as his eyes grew a turbulent black. His fists tightened at his sides and a harsh breath was ripped from his throat before his gaze lanced over her, pausing for one ragged second on her belly before lifting to clash with hers.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed the question in his eyes. ‘I haven’t taken the test yet, but...well, call it female intuition. I’m carrying your child, Remi. Tomorrow we’ll know for certain, but at least you’ll have tonight to start planning how you can truly separate me from your life.’

Her voice broke shamefully, raggedly, on the last words. Unable to withstand the agony any longer, she hurried into her own suite.

She heard him follow, heard him pause on the threshold of their adjoining rooms. He’d never crossed it—not once since they’d said their vows. She whirled to face him as he stepped through and stopped in front of her.

His hands rose as if to touch her. She jerked away. ‘What are you doing?’

His face closed but determination blazed from his eyes. ‘We need to talk, discuss—’

‘Nothing that can’t wait till morning,’ she interjected bleakly, shifting her gaze away from the vibrant skin beneath his collarbone, from the towering vitality of this man who would never be hers.

She turned away. The result of fake smiling all evening while dealing with Margot and his coolly detached attitude had triggered a dull headache. She tossed her wrap and clutch on the sofa and massaged her temples with tired fingers.

‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded sharply.

Maddie started, unaware he’d followed her. For a tense moment she stared at him, her brain frozen at his closeness.

‘I have a headache. I also have to wake up early to talk to my father. I’d rather not do so with a headache...’

It was the first conversation she’d have with her father since she’d left England and he’d gone to Switzerland. She didn’t want to miss it. Right now he felt like her only tether to the real world.

Her words trailed off as he strode past her and headed for her bathroom. Curious despite her breaking heart, she stayed put.

He returned with a pill bottle, shook out two tablets. ‘Take these,’ he instructed gruffly, handing her a glass of water.

‘I’m fine—’

‘Take them, Maddie. It’s a low dose. It won’t affect you or the—’ He stopped, clenched his jaw.

Her heart lurched painfully. ‘The baby, Remi. Not saying the word won’t make it any less real.’

He inhaled sharply. ‘You think I want to pretend it doesn’t exist?’

The question was a stunned, ragged demand. One that drew a cloak of shame over her for even daring to voice the thought.

Unable to answer, or to stem the flare of hope inside her, she took the pills, her stomach pitching as her fingers brushed his warm palm.

He waited until she’d swallowed them before he returned to the living room. Then he turned on her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?’

‘It’s just a headache, Remi.’

‘Headaches can be an indicator of other things,’ he stressed, his tone deep and gravel-rough as his gaze dropped to her now healed arm.

She stared at him, her heart wrenching for him despite her own agony. ‘I’m not being blithe or dismissive, Remi. It’s just a tension headache. A good night’s sleep will take care of it.’

He didn’t reply, and the intense look in his eyes told her he wanted to argue. Eventually he gave a terse nod, then strode to her bed and pulled back the cover. For a long moment he stared at the sheets, seemingly lost in thought. Then he muttered a thick, ‘Goodnight,’ and walked into his own suite.

An hour later her headache was gone, but her desolation had grown exponentially when she started at the sound of their adjoining door opening.

Remi stood framed in the doorway, still dressed but minus his dinner jacket. His hair was in disarray, as if he’d spent the last hour running his fingers through it, and his eyes were dark pools of intensity.

Her heart leapt into her throat, as she blinked back the tears in her eyes. ‘Remi—?’

‘I won’t leave this,’ he said tersely. ‘Not another night. Fate hasn’t been good to me when I’ve let things be, Madeleine. You tell me I’m to be a father. Whatever that entails we tackle this. Tonight.’