His Royal Love-Child Page 3

  Charlotte closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath to keep from letting any of her anguish show. “I have a job, and an apartment. I have responsibilities—”

  He swore. “I will take care of you, Charlotte! You know this.”

  Her throat ached. She squeezed his hand. “I know. But I can’t live that way. My mother tried it with your father, and it didn’t work out. I have to go home.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE HAD NO right to ask her to stay. He had a princess waiting for him to do his duty. Luca shoved a hand through his wet hair and lay back on the chaise. Always, he had a duty to fulfill. And since he’d become the crown prince, the pressures were greater. Not that he wasn’t prepared for it—of course he was.

  But there was something about Charlotte he enjoyed, and he didn’t want to give that up just yet. Still, his country needed him to marry and produce an heir. That was why he’d agreed to wed the woman his uncle chose, a neighboring princess who would come to them with trade agreements advantageous to Iria.

  It was a good match for the nation. A good match for him.

  Or so he’d thought until recently. After these last couple of weeks with Charlotte, he was no longer sure. It didn’t change the fact he had to honor the agreements—but for the first time in a very long time, he resented the notion he had to do something contrary to his personal wishes.

  “When do you want to go?” He spoke the words quietly, somehow hoping she would tell him they were a mistake.

  She was golden and beautiful lying beside him, her body slim in a one-piece suit—he adored her modesty, the way she insisted she wasn’t comfortable in a bikini even though she looked smashing in it. Her tawny curls, tinged with blond highlights, gleamed in the shade. He wanted to slip onto the chaise with her, strip her suit from her skin, and fill his senses with her.

  Her throat worked. She didn’t look at him. “As soon as possible.”

  His heart felt as if she’d jabbed a dagger into it. It was a surprising feeling and he reached up to rub his chest. “I will make the arrangements.”

  And then, when the import of the words sank into his brain, he shoved himself upright and stalked into the house. He couldn’t lie there beside her and not want her, couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t affected by her desire to leave him.

  He wasn’t gone very long when she came inside. Her eyes were wide, her expression shocked and hurt. His stomach clenched in anticipation. He’d been a fool to think this would work. That neither of them would be hurt by the necessity of making this thing between them temporary.

  She held out the hand clutching her phone. “Is it true?”

  He swallowed. “Is what true, cara mia?”

  “I called my mother back. She says it’s in all the papers today. She says you are engaged to a princess.”

  “That’s not quite correct.”

  She was trembling, but not with fear. Her eyes flashed. “Not quite correct?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Please enlighten me.”

  He swore. “I did not want you to know.”

  “Obviously.”

  “This arrangement was made before I saw you again.”

  Her spine went ramrod straight. “You think that makes it better? You knew you had an arrangement, as you so charmingly put it, and you seduced me anyway? You brought me out here and—”

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, and his heart squeezed at the pain on her face. He went to her, but she shrugged out of his grip.

  “Charlotte, forgive me.”

  “Forgive you? For lying to me?” She shook her head, her curls bouncing hard. “You are unbelievable.”

  He reached for her again, refused to let her go when she jerked against him. “I want you in my life, but you know I have no choice in this. I have to do what is good for Iria.”

  She’d gone still, but he could feel the tremors in her body. She smelled like sunshine and flowers and he wanted to turn back the clock an hour. Do this differently.

  “But not for yourself?”

  He stiffened against the power of her words. “What is good for Iria is good for me.”

  She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “I should have known.” She shook her head. “I won’t be your m-mistress. I can’t live that way. Not for you, not for anyone.”

  “I know, but I’m not free to offer you more.”

  They stood there for a long moment, him holding her, waiting for her to change her mind. To say that she wanted him in her life, too. He was dying for those words. But she didn’t say a thing, didn’t look at him.

  And when he finally eased his hold, she pulled free and left him standing.

  Alone, with only his obligations for comfort. As always.

  *

  She had done the unthinkable. She’d fallen in love with Luca, again, and she’d given herself to him with abandon. She’d thought she could handle an affair with him.

  She’d been wrong.

  From the moment she’d found out he actually had a prospective bride lined up, she’d felt utterly betrayed and sick. She’d never asked, never considered. She’d acted selfishly, foolishly, and she’d paid the price.

  Charlotte stood in the bathroom of her tiny apartment and waited for the test stick to give her a result. She’d been home for a month now, and she hadn’t heard a word from Luca. He’d put her on the helicopter alone. The last she’d seen of him was when she’d dared to turn her head as the craft lifted off the pad and she couldn’t bear to go without seeing his face one last time.

  She’d had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from sobbing. But the moment the helicopter was high over the island, winging its way to the airport, she’d let the tears out. She’d cried for hours, and then she’d gotten home and been determined she would not cry again.

  She’d gone back to work, throwing herself into the latest party design project. Heather shot her worried glances, but Charlotte pretended not to notice.

  And then she started having trouble waking up in the morning. When the queasiness began, she realized with a shock that she hadn’t had her period this month. She wasn’t regular as clockwork or anything, but it didn’t usually vary by weeks.

  Now, she waited for the result and prayed it would be “not pregnant.” Because if that first word was missing, she didn’t know what she would do.

  How did you call a prince and tell him you were pregnant?

  She held her breath as the little hourglass stopped spinning in the digital window. It seemed to take forever for the answer to flash—but when it did, Charlotte sat down on the side of the tub with a thud.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LUCA STOOD ON the balcony of his room in the palace and gazed out at the city below. A warm breeze, scented with lemons and lavender, ruffled his hair. He jammed his hands in his pockets and watched as the sun slipped toward the sea and the mighty cargo ships, which kept Iria supplied, as well as took their goods to other ports to sell, glided across the bay.

  He’d returned here immediately after he’d put Charlotte on the helicopter. Now it was time to fulfill his duty and get on with the business of marrying the princess he’d agreed to wed.

  Except that he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the task the way he should.

  A feeling had been building inside him, quietly gaining strength over the last few days since he’d watched Charlotte walk away from him, and it made him feel as if he would burst. If he had to endure another audience with his uncle or cut another ribbon or give another speech, he would lose his mind.

  He’d been born into the royal life, and he’d always known what an awesome responsibility it was. Being the heir to the throne was an even greater responsibility, one he’d never thought he would bear until his cousin had died.

  His choice of bride had never really been his, though at one time he could have married a woman without regard to treaties or alliances. A woman with pedigree, who would fit into the fishbowl of the royal family without hesitation.

  But he didn’
t want that woman. Not any longer. He swallowed hard.

  He wanted Charlotte.

  Impossible.

  Luca gripped the stone balustrade with both hands. Even if he could renege on the agreement with the princess, Charlotte wouldn’t have him. She wouldn’t forgive him for not telling her about the bride that had already been picked out for him while he’d been making love to her.

  Maybe it had been selfish of him, but for a brief moment, she’d made him forget that he couldn’t act for himself. That his desires didn’t come first. She made him feel like a normal man, like someone who got to choose his own life instead of having it dictated to him by what was best for his country.

  Church bells in the city tolled the hour. Each knell sounded in his soul, deep down, reverberating through his being until the feelings he’d been suppressing burst into bloom in his head. Until he couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

  He was in love. He needed a woman more than he needed to breathe, more than he needed to eat or sleep or drink. He needed Charlotte. He needed to have her in his life.

  Impossible, his brain whispered. Impossible…

  Rage grew in his belly, boiled and churned, until he knew what he had to do. There was only one choice for him. Only one choice that made any sense at all. And he would pay whatever price it required…

  *

  Telling a man you were pregnant with his child was not something that could be done over the phone. And yet, what choice did she have? Luca was in Iria, and she wasn’t. He was on the other side of the world, and she couldn’t call him and ask him to come over so they could talk.

  Nor could she fly halfway around the world to see him. His princess-wife-to-be wouldn’t appreciate that, she was certain.

  Charlotte clutched her hand over her belly. Oh God, Luca was getting married. To someone else. And she was the one pregnant with his baby.

  Charlotte sniffled. She had to be strong now. For this baby. He or she was hers, and she would do everything in her power to be a good mother. She would tell Luca—how could she not?—but she didn’t expect anything from him.

  Her phone rang then, but she ignored it. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. She had to think about how to deal with this, what to say. She couldn’t keep her condition a secret forever.

  And she would not let Luca convince her to move to Iria and live in a house somewhere near the palace. She absolutely could not bear to share him with another woman.

  When the phone stopped ringing, her doorbell started. She just wanted to go into the bedroom and hide. But she had to answer it. It was a delivery from Heather—she’d promised to work on some things at home this week—and she couldn’t ignore that.

  But when she whipped open the door, it wasn’t the deliveryman. It was Luca.

  He didn’t look happy to see her. In fact, he looked alarmed. He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms.

  “Charlotte, what is wrong? Are you ill? Do you need to sit down?”

  She clung to him, breathed in his scent, and felt the love and pain swirling around her heart. She pushed back, gently, until she could gaze up into his beautiful eyes.

  “Why are you here?”

  His expression didn’t soften. “Tell me you are well.”

  She licked suddenly dry lips. “Just a touch queasy. I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look mollified. “You have not been answering your phone.”

  “I’ve been tired.” Her heart was thrumming a thousand miles a minute and she needed to sit. “Why don’t you come inside and tell me what you’re here for.”

  He let her go and followed her into the living room. Charlotte sank onto her shabby couch and tried not to despair. He was here, the man she loved, and she couldn’t have him. Not only that, but she also had to tell him her news. And then she had to be strong when he oh so convincingly tried to get her to let him manage her life.

  He stood nearby, hands shoved into his jeans, his expression troubled. “I’ve missed you.”

  Charlotte swallowed and pasted on a bright smile. “It was fun, Luca. But we both know it had to end.”

  “I know nothing of the kind.”

  Her heart thumped. “So when is the wedding?”

  He was frowning at her. “You look green.”

  “I’m not. My stomach is bothering me a little.”

  He turned toward her kitchen. “I’ll get you some water.”

  She leaned back on the cushions and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Luca was standing over her with a glass of water in one hand—and an empty box in another. “What is this?”

  Charlotte took a sip of the water and studied the edge of the glass. “You know what it is.”

  He dropped to his knees before her and she could no longer avoid his gaze. The pregnancy test box was a crumpled mess in his fist. His expression was hopeful and furious at once. “And what is the answer, amore mia?”

  She sighed. She’d never intended to hide the truth from him. “The answer is positive. I’m pregnant, Luca. With your child.”

  She was suddenly swept up in his embrace. The glass tumbled to the floor, soaking the carpet. He held her tight, and she couldn’t help but put her arms around his neck and hold him back. Tears flooded her eyes, and then they were spilling down her cheeks and she was sobbing on his shoulder.

  He got onto the couch with her, pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried. He stroked her hair, soothed her in Italian, and she knew she was doomed. Right then, no matter what he asked, she would do it. She would move to Iria, live near the palace, and take whatever pieces of him she could get. It was wrong and terrible and she was going to do it anyway.

  “Charlotte, my darling, why are you crying so much? You’ll make yourself sick.”

  Her fists clutched his expensive shirt. It was no doubt ruined, streaked with tears. “Because I love you and because I can’t have you. All I can have is this baby, and I’m keeping it, Luca. No matter what, I’m keeping it.”

  He squeezed her tight and then he tipped her chin up until she was forced to meet his gaze. “You love me?”

  She punched his chest, lightly, and then scrunched up the fabric again. “You know I do.”

  He was smiling at her, so tender and achingly beautiful. “No, I don’t. You never said it.”

  She sniffed. “I must have. I felt it every moment of every day since I saw you again. You fill my world with light and happiness and I don’t want to live without that.”

  “I’m glad because—”

  She put a finger over his lips. “I’ll go to Iria with you. I’ll live in a house near the palace and I won’t make trouble. I’ll take whatever stolen moments with you I can get.”

  He kissed her fingers. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “You are?”

  “Oh, not the part about going to Iria with me. I was rather hoping you would.”

  She dropped her gaze. “I’m a horrible person.”

  He laughed, and she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “You are anything but horrible, Charlotte. You are perfect, beautiful, the only woman I have ever—or will ever—love. I want you by my side. I want you to be my princess, my queen.”

  Her insides turned to mush. He could not possibly mean…

  “B-but your uncle. The throne. Your royal duties—you can’t marry me just because I’m pregnant.”

  He kissed her softly. “My uncle married for love. He could hardly object if I wanted to do the same.”

  “But marrying the princess is advantageous for Iria. I can’t let you do this—”

  “Would you rather I had my uncle reinstate the contract? Do you wish to see me wed to another?”

  Charlotte shivered. Her arms tightened around his neck. “You mean the contract is already canceled?”

  “As of two days ago, yes.”

  He’d canceled the contract. Before this visit. She was stunned—and filled with a sudden, fierce hope. “Why would you do that,
Luca?”

  He put his hand over her belly, stroked her softly. “Because of you. Because it gutted me when you left me. Because I can’t spend my life without you. Marry me, Charlotte. Be my partner in life, and my partner on the throne.”

  “You came here to say this to me? Before you knew about the baby?”

  His green eyes were serious as he nodded. “I love you. I need you. I can’t marry anyone but you. I was a fool to think I could. And I was wrong not to tell you that I was supposed to do so.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes as she tried to keep her emotions under control. But there was no control where Luca was concerned. There never had been. Her body hummed with electricity.

  “You were wrong to keep the truth from me.”

  “I know. I was selfish. I wanted you, and I knew that you would not come if you knew about the arrangement. Nothing had been signed at that point, so I convinced myself it was okay. But it wasn’t.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Tell me I haven’t ruined my chances. Tell me you will marry me, Charlotte—and not just because you carry the future king or queen of Iria, but because you love me and I love you and we cannot possibly be parted ever again.”

  Charlotte’s emotions got the best of her then. She shook and laughed and cried—and then she hugged him hard. “Yes,” she said, her lips to his ear, “I will marry you.”

  He turned his head until he could capture her mouth. “I love you so much.”

  “I hope so. Because I’ll be a pretty awkward princess.”

  His smile said he didn’t believe a word of it. “You will be you. And that’s all I have ever wanted.”

  “But what about your people? They will expect a perfect wife for their prince.”

  “Iria will love you as I do. I have no doubt.” He caressed her belly. “Are you happy about this baby, Charlotte?”

  She put her hand over his. “Stunned. Happy. Deliriously in love with the father.”

  “I’m happy, too.” He pulled her in close and tucked her head under his chin. They sat there for a long time, not speaking, simply holding one another.