Frederick frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

Reaching out, he plucked the pictures from her hand and she forced herself not to clutch onto them. Think. Before he looked at the pictures and figured it out. Think. Because even if he didn’t work it out she couldn’t share a room with him—that would take intimacy to insane levels, and Frederick was no fool. He’d realise that she had done the unthinkable and fallen for him.

As he scanned the pictures desperation came to her aid. ‘I wondered which bedroom you wanted.’

His head snapped up and his eyebrows rose. He placed the papers on the table. ‘I assumed from these pictures that we would be sharing a room.’

Picking up her wine glass, she met his gaze. ‘As I understood it, royal tradition dictates separate bedrooms and I assumed you’d prefer that.’ Or at least she should have assumed that. ‘However, obviously there will be some occasions when we do share—hence the design. If you want that bedroom I’ll design the second one as mine. But if you don’t then I’ll take that one and we can discuss how you want yours to be.’

Stop, already. He’d got the gist of it and now she sounded defensive. Worse, despite herself, there was a hint of a question in the nuances of her tone, and a strand of hope twisted her heart. Hope that he’d take this opportunity to persuade her to share a room.

‘What do you think?’

He sipped his wine, studied her expression, and she fought to keep her face neutral.

‘I think this is some sort of trick question.’

‘No trick. It’s a simple need to know so I can complete the design. Also, as you know, I’ll be giving an interview once the renovations are done, so it depends what you think the people of Lycander would prefer to see. We can pretend we share a room, if you think that would go down better, or...’

Shut up, Sunita.

Just because full-scale panic was escalating inside her, it didn’t mean verbal overload had to implode. But she couldn’t help herself.

‘And then there is Amil to think about. I’m not sure that he should grow up thinking this sort of marriage is right.’

‘Whoa! What is that supposed to mean? “This sort of marriage”? You say it like there’s something wrong with it.’

‘There is something wrong with it.’

It was almost as if her vocal cords had taken on a life of their own.

‘Is this the sort of marriage you want Amil to have? An

alliance? Presumably brokered by us? A suitable connection? Perhaps he will be lucky enough to get his own Lady Kaitlin. Hell.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Perhaps we should get dibs on her first-born daughter.’

‘Stop.’ His frown deepened as he surveyed her expression. ‘What is going on here? We agreed how our marriage would work—we agreed what we both wanted.’

‘No, we didn’t. I didn’t want to get married at all. You did.’

‘And you agreed.’

‘Because there was no other choice.’ She closed her eyes. ‘There still isn’t. But when Amil gets married I don’t want it to be like this.’

For her son she wanted the fairy tale—she wanted Amil to love someone and be loved in return and live happily ever after. The End.

‘There is nothing wrong with this.’ His voice was urgent now, taut with frustration and more than a hint of anger. ‘Amil will see two parents who respect each other, who are faithful to each other, who are polite to each other. There will be no uncertainty, no banged doors and no voices raised in constant anger. He’ll have two parents who are there for him—I think he’ll take that. God knows, I would have. And so would you.’

Touché. He was right. The problem was this wasn’t about Amil. It was about her. She wanted the fairy tale. Her whole being cried out at the idea of a marriage of civility. Her very soul recoiled from the thought of spending the rest of her life tied to a man she loved who would never see her as more than the mother of his children—a woman he’d married through necessity not choice.

But she’d made a deal and she’d honour it. For Amil’s sake. She wouldn’t wrest Amil from his father, wouldn’t take away his birthright. But neither would she stick around and moon in lovelorn stupidity. The only way forward was to kill love before it blossomed—uproot the plant now, before it sank its roots into her heart.

So she dug deep, conjured up a smile and said, ‘You’re right. I just had a mad moment.’ She gave a glance at her watch. ‘Anyway, don’t you need to go? I thought you had a meeting about the casino bill?’

He hesitated. The frown still hadn’t left his face. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’

‘Sure.’

Pride kept her cool, enigmatic smile in place as he turned and left the room. Then, ignoring the ache that squeezed her heart in a vicelike grip, she picked up her mobile.

Tags: Nina Milne Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net