Her King's Secret Baby

by Lynn, Sophia

  They had.

  Sarah rubbed her eyes. There were no more good morning texts, or notes in the middle of the day that he missed her. No calls at strange hours when they had a few moments. In the past week, her anticipation of hearing from him had turned into disappointment in knowing that a call wasn’t coming. She’d stewed about it, tried to be understanding. And then her boss had given her a huge assignment, and she’d gotten swamped. She’d stopped reaching out too because it skipped her mind in the middle of the million other things she had to do. She promised herself that it was temporary, that they would get past this “too busy” hurdle. She wanted to give him the space to do what he needed to. Besides, he wouldn’t forget about her.

  Would he?

  With a groan, she blinked a few times to clear the sleepiness and depressing thoughts from her head and plucked her cell from her night stand to check the time. It wasn’t quite time for her alarm to go off. She could sleep a little more. Her stomach clenched, the ceiling making another spin. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees to her chest, waiting for the sensation to pass. Betty had invited her out for hibachi last night. Maybe there’d been something wrong with the shrimp. She frowned. Come to think of it, she’d been a little nauseated at work yesterday morning, but half a bagel had mostly taken care of it. Ugh, it could be the stomach flu. Tom at work had had it less than a week ago, and he’d coughed all over her desk while they had been co-editing a piece. Maybe she’d missed a spot when she’d scrubbed down all her things.

  “Great,” she moaned and ran her hands over her face. Lying there a while longer, her brain refused to let her sleep. She thumbed through the news app on her phone, reading a bit about the workers’ turmoil in Brixton. She had an internet alert on William’s name, so anything related to him popped up on the app. It seemed his clean water program had been loosely buried by this latest drama, but she was determined not to let it remain that way. Her article had been published two weeks ago, and the response had been amazing. Her boss had been handing her large assignments since, and she’d been pulling fourteen hour days as a result. As soon as William had some breathing room, she planned to do a follow-up article to keep the initiative in the public eye. No way was she going to let attention for this die down. Not if she could help it. First, she had to get over this sickness, hopefully as quickly as it had come on.

  Suddenly thirsty, Sarah slid her legs out of bed. Her head spun. Concerned now that she really was getting sick, she rose slowly, carefully, and made her way to the bathroom, slightly bent over to keep the nausea down. She splashed cool water on her face, contemplating a shower but not convinced she was strong enough to stand that long. Something was up. Damn, Tom and his stomach flu! She was about to use the bathroom when she realized the toilet tissue holder was empty. She sighed and reached to open the bathroom cabinet.

  She grabbed a roll…and froze.

  What was the date today? She tried to run through dates in her head.

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  She eyed the box of tampons in the cabinet next to the tissue. She’d bought that box brand new before she’d left for Brixton. Things had been so hectic that she hadn’t realized she’d not had cause to use them yet. The heat drained from her face, and her hands began to tremble as her mind scrambled to make sense of it. It was her birth control; she’d started a new kind shortly before going to Brixton. Maybe it was messing with her, screwing up her cycle. Maybe…she was nauseous because her period was going to come on with a vengeance after being late. Her breasts had been tender, and come to think of it, the nausea had been there for a few days, just quietly hanging out. She’d felt crampy, too. So her period must be coming! She had all the signs.

  Another thought crossed her mind. One that buried deep and wasn’t budging.

  She was late. Really late. “Oh, no!”

  With a panicked sob, she carefully finished up and splashed more water on her face. Throwing her hair into a messy bun, she found a pair of joggers that she’d laid aside yesterday, and a hoodie hanging on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. She dressed and had to sit on the side of her bed for a few minutes until the nausea passed. Then she called in sick to work, and sat there for a long time, knowing full well what she needed to do. But she was too scared.

  She and William hadn’t been careful, not really. She was on birth control. She’d never had issues with it in the past. But they hadn’t used condoms, opting instead to trust each other. Checking the calendar on her phone, there was no denying that she was late. Late. Late late late. The panic returned. She’d never had this happen before, a pregnancy scare, but now she knew exactly how her friends who had must have felt. The quiet panic was all-consuming.

  “Get it together, Sarah.” Saying the words out loud helped. She could do this. She could.

  She thought about calling Betty but nixed the idea. No, she needed to do this on her own. There was a Walmart across the street from her apartment. Slipping into her sandals, she grabbed her purse and left. The sun was bright, but not hot enough yet to warm the cool air. She shivered as she shuffled down the block, her arms crossed over her middle as if she could hold the nausea back. It didn’t work. The store was bustling even at this early hour as she hurried in and went to the proper aisle. There, ten choices for pregnancy tests stared back at her. She didn’t ponder, just grabbed a brand she’d seen repeatedly on television. Grabbing a bag of peppermints, she paid and was back at her apartment before she could change her mind.

  Not that her bladder was going to let her. She hadn’t gone since last night, and the test box said she should test with the first urination of the morning.

  “Damn it,” she sobbed as she pulled the kit out of the box. “This can’t be happening to me.” She scanned the directions. Followed them.

  Put the test on the side of the sink and watched her cell phone tick down the time. Her chest clenched as the little white results box began to change a light blue and then faded back to white. Letters started to develop as the box regained its clear color. Racked with nerves, Sara turned away from the test and walked into her bedroom. She paced a little, pressing a fist to her lips. Anxiety got the better of her, and she finally went back into the bathroom where the narrow stick was waiting with a bright blue word in the center of its results box.

  Pregnant

  Sarah’s face began to tingle. The word developed crisply, clearly visible. Unmistakable.

  Grabbing the box, she read the directions again, frantic that she’d made a mistake. Maybe she needed to give it more time, maybe she’d done it wrong and tripped an incorrect result. Maybe—

  A tear rolled down her cheek as she set the box aside. She was too smart to talk herself into further panic. No, she’d done the test exactly right. She was pregnant with the King of Brixton’s baby. Sliding down from her perch on the closed toilet seat, she gripped her cell phone in her hand and curled up on the bathroom floor. The tiles were cool against her cheek, almost comforting to her upset stomach. She wrapped an arm over her middle and struggled to keep more tears at bay. She was in shock, she thought. This was unexpected, completely, unbelievably unexpected.

  What would William say?

  They barely knew each other. Their feelings were real, at least, hers were. She hadn’t been with anyone else for months before him, nor after, so there was no question the child was his. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom being with another man, not after William. Not after what she’d felt for him. Yet the enormity of the situation pressed down on her. Reaching for the test stick, she pulled it down from the sink just to look at it again. Should she take a picture of it and send it to him?

  No, but she did need to tell him, and the sooner, the better. She should do it now, before the shock wore off and she overthought everything and made some stupid decision, like not telling him because she was too damn scared.

  Sitting up, she leaned against the wall and dialed William’s number. It was late afternoon there; he’d probably b
e in his office or even in his private quarters by now. She tried to rein in the sobs sitting in her throat and compose herself before he answered. If he answered. It had been days since she’d heard his voice. God, how she’d missed it. She’d probably lose it the moment he answered…

  “Yes?”

  The sharp voice took her off guard. Peeking at the number she’d dialed, she made sure she had the correct one.

  “Yes, is anyone there?”

  Sarah cleared her throat. “William, please.”

  “This is King Ravenshire’s personal phone. Identify yourself, please.”

  Sarah swallowed, not sure she’d be able to find her voice. “Sarah Jones. The king gave me this number.”

  “Ah, Sarah. The reporter.”

  The voice was familiar. It took a second before it clicked. Asher.

  “That’s right. Is he available? It’s important.”

  There was a pause, and she thought maybe she’d lost the call. Then Asher made an annoyed sound. There was a rustling in the background, the pause stretching on so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer her.

  “He’s not available.”

  “He’s not near his phone?”

  “No,” his sharp voice cut through her ear. “He’s left it in the conference room. May I take a message?”

  Her fingers curled around the phone. The unfriendly haste in his voice made her doubt he’d relay a single word she said. Then again, Asher was William’s direct assistant. Relaying messages was his job. Besides, her number would pop up on his call list. He’d see it.

  “I really need him to call me as soon as possible, Asher. It’s very important.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it is.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He clicked off before she could say anything else.

  She looked at the blank screen for a long time, the irrational part of her brain thinking William would call immediately. But as time went on, the rational side of her brain knew it would take time. He was a busy man with a million responsibilities.

  What would he say when he learned he had one more?

  Chapter Ten

  William

  Bloody hell, he’d left his phone.

  William flagged down his driver and asked him to stop. Luckily, they hadn’t made it more than ten feet from the palace entry. He smoothed his tie as he exited the car and trotted up the steps. His mind was obviously not all in one place if he could simply walk away without his phone. His entire life was on that thing, and he rarely left it anywhere but in his pocket.

  The stress of the workers’ union strife was high, and now he had to leave in the middle of it to attend an upended trade meeting in Switzerland. He’d be gone a week. Life had been an insane whirlwind these past weeks, more than he could recall in recent memory. It took everything he had to remain neutral and calm and not let the stress get to him. His body felt tight and one side-step from exhaustion. There’d been no time to swim or read or his normal activities to relax his mind. And yet the constant adrenaline high from one crisis after another kept him moving forward.

  He hadn’t even had time to call Sarah. His heart sank at the thought. He’d done a poor job of keeping in touch, a piss-poor job. She’d reached out a couple of times, but he’d been so busy, he’d completely forgotten to text her back. Their last true conversation had been shortly after she’d sent him the article she’d come to Brixton to write. It was a fabulous piece—he expected nothing less from her— and he’d promptly ensured that all his backers had received a copy. The feedback had been positive and exceptional. He couldn’t have asked for better publicity than Sarah’s article. He’d had to set the clean water initiative on the backburner for now until the smoke cleared from the many fires, and as soon as he was able, he’d appoint staff to keep the water program running.

  He’d simply run out of available time for anything that wasn’t imperative right now.

  Walking into his office, he paused to see Asher there, back turned, bent over something on William’s desk.

  “Asher?” William strode over with big strides. “Seems I’ve forgotten my phone. Have you seen it?”

  Asher looked up, pen in hand. He had a slim piece of paper on the desk and looked as if he’d been writing. “I found it on your desk. I took the liberty of taking messages for you.”

  He handed William the phone.

  “Anything important?” William looked very briefly at the call list. There were at least five new calls there; numbers he didn’t recognize occupied the screen. He glanced up to find his nephew staring intently at him, his face and shoulders tight. William slid the phone into the breast pocket of his suit coat and gave Asher a pointed look. “Were any of these calls important?”

  “Oh,” he broke out of it. “No, sir. Nothing of importance. Requests for media appointments. And a spam call from a desperate sounding twit.” Asher handed William the paper with a few phone numbers and names written on it. He put it in his pocket.

  “Very well. Anything else for me before I go?” His phone rang; he ignored it.

  Asher folded his hands behind his back and fell into step beside William as they walked back to the front entrance. “No. I’ll be in touch if something pressing arises.”

  William gave a nod and slipped back into the car. His phone rang again, another number he didn’t know. He’d been bombarded with calls from acquaintances and staff in light of the recent goings on. He simply didn’t have time to take them all. Maybe he should have had Asher accompany him on this trip, just to deal with his phone calls. He thumbed through his text messages, hoping to have one from Sarah. A pang of disappointment went through him to see nothing. Maybe this would be too hard, this distance between them. She was a smart, beautiful woman. Any man would be eager to win her over. He was a king, but even that wouldn’t be enough to hold her if distance became too much. He didn’t want to let her go, but pressing matters wouldn’t allow him to do a damn thing about it right now. His middle clenched at the thought of Sarah in another man’s bed.

  Glancing out the window, he reined in those thoughts. They’d made no firm commitments before she’d left. They’d made no promises save for keeping in touch. Maybe she didn’t want more with him, and who was he to stop her from seeing other people if she didn’t?

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

  Being a king wasn’t so good for his love life.

  ***

  Sarah

  Sarah logged out of her computer and popped a mint into her mouth. It had been two weeks, but the shock of being pregnant hadn’t yet worn off.

  She’d managed to keep it a secret, though she’d almost caved and told Betty a couple of times. Her friend and coworker had asked why Sarah kept running to the bathroom. She’d brushed it off as getting sick, though she’d really wanted to confide in her friend and have some support.

  Seems she wouldn’t be getting that from William, after all. He’d never called. She’d immediately called back after hanging up with Asher, concerned that he couldn’t be trusted to relay the message. The call had been denied. And still, nothing. She’d been an idiot to think he’d continue to want her once she’d left Brixton. He was gorgeous, a king, as desirable a man as you could get. Why in the hell would he wait around for her?

  Sarah scrubbed her hands over her face and laid her head on her desk. Everyone else had long left the office, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to go home to her empty apartment. The box for the pregnancy kit was still in her bathroom garbage can, and every time she went in there, it was the first thing she looked at.

  She was going to have the King of Brixton’s baby. A quiver went through her. Inside her body, the heir to the royal throne was fighting its little way into life. Tears hit her eyes. More than that, this child was hers. Hers! God, she was going to be a mother. By the looks of it, she was going to be a single mom, raising the bastard child of a royal from an ocean away. Tears fell freely now, and she let them come. Wallowi
ng in misery helped a little. Only when the janitor banged his way inside the office, rolling a mopping bucket behind him, did she pull herself together. Wiping her face, she grabbed her canvas bag and keys, hurried to the parking garage, and slipped into her car.

  She couldn’t do this alone. Not really. Without William? Of course. It would be hard, but millions of women raised their children alone. It was more than that, though. They might not have a man in their lives, but every single mom needed her girlfriends by her side. Sarah needed to offload this secret, needed to confide in someone. She pulled out her cell and dialed Betty.

  “Hey, are you home?” It was Friday night, and Betty was keen on making her rounds at tap rooms and eating up cheese trays like they were going out of style.

  Betty was chewing on something. “Home. Where are you?”

  Sarah tapped a finger against her steering wheel. “Just left work. No craft beer and hard cheddar for you tonight?”

  “Nah, I’m cutting back on carbs. Why were you at the office so late? What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice.”

  Sarah held back a sob. “How about a movie at my place tonight? I could use the company.”

  Betty’s voice came closer to the phone. “Sarah? What gives? You’ve been acting weird at work all week.”

  “No, I…nothing’s wrong, it’s just…” She didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know if she should. Mind whirling, she took a breath and gripped the steering wheel. “I’m pregnant with William Ravenshire’s baby.”