by Leah Ashton
Ana drew her legs up to hug her knees. Her own tears prickled. She was having a baby with a man who desperately wished he was having a baby with someone else.
The enormity of that realisation sat heavy on her shoulders.
All she had ever wanted for her future children was a father who adored them. It didn’t matter if he wanted her. He just needed to want this baby.
Rhys shifted in his chair to look at her. ‘I’m sorry, Ana, this must have been a shock for you too. I know neither of us planned it. I just...’
‘Need some time to process the news. I understand.’
She pushed herself up off the couch. ‘I’ll book a hotel room in Castelrotto. I can come back tomorrow and we can talk more then.’
She liked how calm and businesslike she sounded.
‘No,’ Rhys said firmly. ‘There’s a storm coming. You aren’t driving in this weather. Stay here.’
Ana nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll go to my room, then—give you some space. But before I do I just want to be really clear on something.’ She met his gaze. ‘I’m keeping this baby. And I’d really like you to be a part of his or her life. If you aren’t prepared to do that, I need to know.’
Rhys’s eyes widened. ‘Of course I want to be a part of this baby’s life. A big part. I’m its father and I intend to be a good one.’
Ana let go a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
Rhys rushed to his feet, and suddenly he was holding both her hands in his.
‘Oh, Ana, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about your situation, about your father...’
Ana’s gaze was steady on Rhys’s shoulder. He wore a dark grey T-shirt and there was a loose thread near the collar.
‘That’s okay,’ she said.
Rhys squeezed her hands. ‘Ana, honey, I promise I will never be like your father. I’ll be there for this baby. We’ll work it out. Okay?’
She looked up at him. His gaze searched hers.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’m glad. That’s all I expect from you, okay? Nothing more.’
Did he know what she was saying?
She didn’t expect a happy-ever-after from him. She didn’t want one. After Petar—gosh, after what her father had done to her mother—she knew that happy-ever-afters weren’t for her. Especially as nothing had changed from that one night together.
To want more from Rhys would be almost as bad as Petar wanting her only for her title. From now on she was back to being sensible, cynical Ana the librarian—who didn’t get caught up in fantasies and who only cared about reality.
All that mattered was that this baby had a father.
And besides, Rhys was still in love with a ghost.
* * *
Palace Security called Rhys within moments of Ana leaving the room. They arrived at his gates shortly afterwards.
Rhys couldn’t recall a thing he discussed with the head of security over the phone, or what he said to the two guards he set up in his guest house. They were different men from the two who’d been there last month—he did comprehend that at least.
But otherwise it was all a blank. His brain was pretty much packed full with one fact at the moment: Ana’s pregnant.
It seemed he could grasp nothing else.
Oh... Except maybe the sharp tone of the palace’s head of security when he’d asked one particular question.
‘Any idea why Ana has run to you?’
‘No, sir,’ he’d said. ‘None at all.’
He hardly felt that a man who’d allowed a princess to exit the country undetected was owed any explanation. Although he wouldn’t have told Marko either if he’d been the one asking—and he imagined at some point soon he would.
This news was just his for now.
And Ana’s, of course.
Their news.
Theirs.
It had been so long since he’d been part of anything: his marriage, the regiment, even his family... To suddenly be permanently, fundamentally paired with Ana... No, not even paired. There were three of them now.
After so many years of just being Rhys, just being I or my or me, he had suddenly become an our. An us.
Rhys walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and a glass but ended up leaving the bottle unopened when he remembered Ana couldn’t drink. It didn’t seem fair he could have alcohol to help him process this news when she couldn’t...
The realisation sent him back to his favourite chair—a soft tan leather armchair that had a swivel base—and once again he collapsed into it, his gaze focused on the ceiling.
He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be worrying about Ana and whether or not she could drink. He didn’t want a relationship—didn’t want someone else to worry about.
After all, he’d spent the past few years ensuring just that: he had no one to worry about. It was why he lived alone. It was why he didn’t have guests. And it was why he never went home to see his family for Christmas. Or for any reason.
At least Ana had made it clear she didn’t expect anything from him. She didn’t want a romantic relationship. That was good. He couldn’t have handled her wanting that from him and knowing he couldn’t give her what she needed.
But there had to be some sort of a relationship now. Between Ana and himself. Between his baby and himself.
‘Rhys?’
He shot to his feet at Ana’s soft voice. She’d taken only one step into the room, so she was more than five metres away from him.
‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I heard a car arrive, and I can guess who it is, but I just wanted to know for sure—’
‘Yes,’ Rhys said. ‘It’s exactly who you think it is.’
Ana’s shoulders slumped. ‘Oh,’ she said quietly. ‘So much for my disguise. I’d hoped...’
Her words trailed off as she stared at the floor. Then she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.
She met Rhys’s gaze. ‘I really need to stop thinking that running away from being a princess will actually work.’ She shrugged. ‘This is just my life now. No ducking off to Italy to tell my one-night stand I’m pregnant without anyone noticing.’
Despite everything, Rhys laughed.
Ana’s smile was tentative at first, but then a giggle burst out, and that made Rhys laugh louder.
Eventually they both became silent, but Ana’s gaze had a hint of that cheeky sparkle again—a sparkle that he only now realised had been absent since she’d turned up in her wig and glasses.
‘I know you ran away the way you did so you could tell me first,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’
Ana closed her eyes and eventually nodded in response. When she opened her eyes again, she spoke. ‘I had to,’ she said. ‘I had to know if you were going to be part of our baby’s life before I could even begin to think about anything else.’
* * *
Unlike her very first night at Rhys’s villa, Ana had absolutely no problems sleeping on this second visit to the Dolomites. She probably should have had issues falling asleep, given she still had absolutely no idea how the whole ‘single mum princess’ thing was going to work, or how her family—let alone the royal family—was going to react...
But she didn’t. In fact, she had the best sleep she could remember having since Prince Goran had died.
Sharing her news with Rhys had been scary. It had been terrifying, really. What if he hadn’t wanted anything to do with their baby?
She’d told herself he was a good guy, that he wasn’t the type of man to ignore his own child—but of course she hadn’t known that at all.
But Rhys hadn’t let her down. And he wouldn’t let their baby down either—Ana knew that somewhere bone-deep inside her. He wouldn’t do to their baby what her father had done to her.
So it probably wasn’t all that surprising that she’d slept just
fine.
The media, her family, the royal family... She’d have to deal with all that eventually, but at least she knew that she—and her baby—wouldn’t be doing it alone.
Out in the lounge room Rhys was riding his bike on the wind trainer—a small contraption that held a standard bike in place so that Rhys could cycle like mad and not crash straight through his floor-to-ceiling windows.
He had his head down, his gaze focused firmly on the mountains in front of him. His pedalling didn’t let up as Ana helped herself to toast and sat herself down at the dining table.
In fact, he rode all the way through Ana’s breakfast and part way through the kettle boiling for tea.
He finally dismounted as Ana was absently dunking a teabag into a mug, her gaze firmly focused on Rhys.
She was having a baby with this man. She figured there was no point in playing coy. She needed to get to know him.
Although most likely there wasn’t any need for her to note how he somehow—remarkably—managed to look good in head-to-toe jet-black Lycra. Not just good...great. All rippling shoulders and biceps and powerful thighs...
Anyway... She decided to keep her gaze firmly above his shoulders.
And if Rhys noticed her attention straying elsewhere, he revealed it only by the slightest, slightest hint of a grin.
Which Ana ignored.
Rhys wiped his face and neck with his towel, then ran a hand through his too-long hair so it was swept back from his face.
‘Do you ride on the road too?’ Ana asked—just to say something, and also in the spirit of getting to know this man she was having a baby with.
He nodded. ‘Yes, when it’s not snowing. Do you ride?’
‘No,’ Ana said. ‘The roads in Vela Ada are cobblestoned and picturesque, but unfriendly for the uncoordinated. I barely manage to walk down the streets without tripping over.’
‘Uncoordinated?’ Rhys asked.
‘Completely,’ Ana said. ‘Let’s hope our baby inherits its athletic prowess from you.’
They both went completely silent after that comment. Ana had reminded them both of the reality of their situation. They really were having a baby together.
Rhys swallowed. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what are your plans while you’re here?’
Ana blinked. ‘Other than heading back to Vela Ada this afternoon?’
Rhys’s forehead creased. ‘Why so soon?’
‘Because I need to tell my mother I’m pregnant,’ she said. ‘And my family. The royal family. But my mother especially.’
Ana had kept too much from those who cared about her these past twelve months in her misguided quest to be the perfect Princess. She wasn’t keeping her pregnancy from her mother any longer than necessary. Even if she wasn’t looking forward to it.
‘But I’ve only just learnt that you trip over your own feet,’ Rhys said.
Ana raised her eyebrows.
‘I thought I’d have more time to get to know the woman I’m having a baby with.’
‘I want to get to know you better too,’ Ana said. ‘We’ve got this morning to talk—and maybe I can call you from Vela Ada regularly? Keep you posted on how the baby is doing? Or email you? I guess that’s probably the easiest way to share images from sonograms and stuff.’
‘Email?’
Rhys walked right up to Ana, close enough that she could smell his scent—sweat and deodorant and fabric softener—and he smelt good. Like everything he was: big, strong, solid.
‘Is that how involved you think I’ll be? A quick chat this morning and then an email here and there?’
Ana glared at him. ‘Of course not. But the baby isn’t here yet. We have time to work out access and other details.’
‘You don’t want me at the scans?’ Rhys asked, and the question hung between them. He sounded hurt.
‘I—’ Ana stopped. ‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘It’s my body, and I don’t know you that well. This is all new to me—’
She’d never imagined Rhys standing beside her as a sonographer rubbed gel on her pregnant belly. She’d assumed he’d want to stay in Italy, that he had his business to run...
But as she imagined it now, the image was appealing. Seductive, even. A fantasy of the loving, caring partner, holding her hand...
But he wasn’t that—not really. Ana gave herself a mental shake. She needed to remain practical. She needed to keep some distance between them. She couldn’t get lost in fantasy once again.
Again Rhys ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, holding her gaze. ‘That wasn’t fair. It is your body, and it’s your pregnancy. But it’s our baby, and I really would like to be a part of your pregnancy...as much as you feel comfortable.’
Ana nodded, turning this information over in her head. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I haven’t even seen a doctor yet. I don’t know when the scans happen. I’ll do my best to keep you involved, and I’ll think about having you there at some of the appointments.’
Something flashed across Rhys’s gaze, so brief Ana almost felt she’d imagined it. But she hadn’t—she had seen it: pain. Sadness, even.
Her gut felt tied up in knots as she warred against bursting out with: Sure, come to all the appointments! But she should be taking this slow. And not just for the sake of keeping her distance... Ana quite simply needed time to comprehend what was happening to her. She hadn’t planned any of this, and she’d assumed she would have nine months to get her head around it—both the idea of having a baby, and also the idea of having Rhys in her life.
‘Thank you,’ Rhys said. ‘That’s fair. But can I ask something else of you?’
He was looking at Ana so intensely she fought against the instinct to drop her gaze, or to tangle her fingers together like she often did when she was nervous. But she didn’t allow herself to. She held his gaze right back.
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘Stay another night,’ he said, his words low and strong. ‘I need time to get to know you, more time to absorb this news with you before you disappear back to Vela Ada and your princess life.’
Instinctively Ana shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she said.
‘Please?’ Rhys said, his voice hoarse.
His gaze travelled over Ana’s face, tracing the shape of her nose, her lips, her jaw. Then it dropped down lower—to her belly—and it was so tempting to say yes. To stay.
But she couldn’t.
If she stayed here with Rhys—alone here with Rhys—would she be able to ignore the way she still felt so drawn to him? The fact he had become no less handsome, no less masculine, no less overwhelming to her senses in every possible way...
She couldn’t. She knew that.
‘Rhys, I’m sorry,’ Ana said. ‘But I think it’s best if—’
‘If you stay,’ Rhys interrupted, ‘I’ll take you to the Christmas market in Castelrotto.’
Those words were so unexpected that Ana took a step backwards. ‘I thought you hated Christmas,’ she said, confused.
‘I never said that,’ he said. ‘I said I avoid it. That I don’t like it. That I don’t like the way it reminds me of what I’ve lost.’
He had turned his head to look out at the mountains and Ana could only see the tension in his jaw, not whatever swirled in his eyes.
Was he thinking of his wife? Jessica? As he stood here with the almost-stranger he was about to have a baby with?
Ana swallowed in a failed attempt to loosen the sudden tightness in her throat.
Eventually Rhys looked back at Ana. ‘You told me you love Christmas,’ he said carefully. ‘And I want our baby to love it the way I once did.’
He paused, his eyes once again falling to Ana’s still flat belly. Then looked up and caught her gaze again.
‘I need just a little more time, Ana. Our worlds have been turned up
side down, but I’d like to hit “pause” for just a while longer. For us to have a bit more time to absorb this together before we get caught up in the realities of it all. The paperwork and the logistics and how people are going to react.’ He shook his head and his lips quirked upwards in a humourless smile. ‘It sounds stupid, but I’ve just realised our child is going to be a prince or princess! How the heck is that going to work?’
Right now, Ana honestly had no idea.
‘That’s all coming,’ Rhys continued, ‘and we both know that. But, please, stay a little longer. Let’s talk, let’s hang out—let me take you to the market tonight.’ His grin was genuine now. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘you know you really want to go.’
Ana realised she’d tangled her fingers together, and deliberately separated her hands, shoved them into the pockets of her jeans.
She took a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘One more night.’
Rhys’s smile lit up his face. His gorgeous, handsome face.
‘I hear the market is enchanting,’ he said, echoing Ana’s words from a month ago—from for ever ago.
Ana couldn’t help but smile back. And as she did, she realised that, despite everything, she was very glad she was staying.
Rhys wasn’t an easy man to walk away from.
No matter how stridently she told herself she should.
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER HIS SHOWER, Rhys made them both hot chocolate and he and Ana sat at opposite ends of his big L-shaped couch as they talked the morning away.
It felt weird at first—almost as if they were interviewing each other. Although, Rhys conceded to himself, it wasn’t as if either of them had a choice: they had both unexpectedly obtained the role of parent-to-be—regardless of how well they answered the questions they asked each other.
Maybe that was why they slowly began to relax—with the realisation that neither of them was walking away. And also maybe because—by unspoken agreement—they weren’t exactly asking hard-hitting questions, just questions about hobbies, movies, university, travel...
‘Favourite dessert?’ Rhys asked.