Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  “Just so you know, I’ve kept my promise and not told anyone what I told you on the beach,” I write. “But that can’t go on forever. It’s going to be obvious pretty soon. People will be able to see, and then there will be questions. You know which questions I mean.”

  I send that text, think a moment, then text again:

  “Are you expecting me to come up with a lie? People are going to ask me for a name. I’m going to have to say something. These are things that have to be decided sooner rather than later.”

  There. I think that gets the point across without making it too obvious what I’m talking about, in case the message falls into the wrong hands.

  I hit send again and cross my fingers that he’ll finally respond with something I can actually work with.

  Chapter 16

  The day passes, and no response comes. I am tortured by my silent phone. I put it in my bedside drawer and walk away from it, hoping to distract myself, and then moments later I run to retrieve it, terrified that I’ve missed my chance to talk to Alex.

  This is crazy. I must be losing my mind.

  When the phone finally does ring, around seven o’clock in the evening, I’m so sure it’s finally Alex that I dive across the room for it and bang my knee on a chair, yelping when pain spikes through me. My dignity has completely evaporated at this point. But it’s not about me, I remind myself. It’s about the baby.

  Right. Nice try, Erica. Of course, this isn’t about me wanting to hold onto the best sex I’ve ever had, the best connection to a man I’ve ever had. No, I’m just being a good mother. I have to roll my eyes at myself as I answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Erica?”

  My heart sinks like a stone. The voice is brusque, businesslike, female. The voice of my agent.

  “Hi, Debra.”

  “I have an audition for you, hon. You’d be perfect for it. Can you come into the office so we can discuss?”

  I sigh. “Deb, I told you. I’m taking some time off.”

  “Yeah, you told me,” she says. “Thing is, I’m not sure you’ve really thought that through. You need to keep working, hon. You’re not going to be able to coast on that Royal Blue gig forever. You saw what happened to Gary Breyer this season. His character was killed off, and now he’s out of a job.”

  “Gary’s going to be fine,” I say. “He’s a great actor and a big name.”

  “Yes, he is,” Debra says, her voice thick with false patience. “But you aren’t, are you? You’re new to the industry, and no one knows you as anything but Aeryn Redfall. If you don’t use this time off to prove you can do more, you’re going to end up getting typecast. Or worse, not cast at all.”

  “I just did a movie,” I protest.

  “And that wrapped, and now you need to put yourself back out there. I have a four-episode guest spot on a crime series, and your combat training would really come in handy.”

  Combat. There’s no way I’m going to involve myself in combat while I’m pregnant.

  I close my eyes, wishing more than ever that Alex had come through with a plan so that I’d have something I could say to Debra right now.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say. “I can’t do it now.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “You know, I took a chance on you,” she says, her voice chilly. “Do you know how many girls come to LA looking for their big break?”

  “I think I’ve been worth your time, Deb,” I say, a little more sharply than intended. “We’ve made plenty of money from my work on Royal Blue. I’d say it’s been a solid return on your investment. And I really don’t appreciate being called up and chastened by you like all I ever do is sit around. I work hard on that show, and I know I’m one of your highest earning clients.”

  “You’ve been successful so far,” she admits. “But that comes of listening to me. Following my guidance. If you’re not prepared to keep doing that, maybe you should consider finding new representation.”

  I’m shocked. “You don’t mean that,” I protest. “Deb, I’ve been with you since the beginning.”

  “I’m thinking of your career,” she says. “I want you to keep growing as an actress. But if that’s not what you want for yourself…” She trails off.

  I say goodbye, barely able to hold back tears. I’ve been extra emotional since becoming pregnant, so I’m not surprised to find myself dissolving like this, but my stunned sadness is real. I hope she’s bluffing as a ploy to get me to take another role. I love working with Deb. She’s gotten me every break I’ve had since coming to Hollywood. If only I could tell her the truth, I know she would understand.

  If I lose her because of the way Alex made us handle this, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I do know that I’m becoming more frustrated with him by the minute.

  At some point, I sleep. My sleep has been heavy and dreamless these past few weeks, and I don’t wake easily, so when a heavy pounding works its way into my dream, it’s several minutes before I realize it’s actually happening in the waking world.

  “Hang on,” I call, still half asleep, fumbling around for my bathrobe and slippers.

  I squint at my bedside clock. It’s seven thirty in the morning. Who would be here at this time?

  It must be Debra, come to fight me on her audition proposals. How will she react when I turn her down in person? Will she be able to tell I’m pregnant?

  I stumble to the door and pull it open.

  And gasp.

  Alex, my Alex, is standing at my door.

  And the moment I see him, I know I’ve been wrong, wrong about everything. All my doubts and worries fly away. Of course, he cares about me. He always has. Whatever the explanation for his distance over the past three weeks, I will hear it and accept it, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s here. The two of us are together at last.

  His eyes drink me in for a long moment that seems to go on for an eternity, and during all that time I’m held paralyzed in his gaze. Then, suddenly, he crosses the threshold, catching me up in his embrace, crushing the air from my lungs and squeezing a few unexpected tears from my eyes. They trickle down my cheeks, and as he holds me away from him, he sees.

  “Oh, Erica,” he whispers, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  I shake my head, swallowing hard. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “Of course there is.” He pulls me to him again, resting me against his broad chest. “I’m sure you must have been confused all this time. Maybe even angry. I anticipated it. I knew that with every day that went by, you’d be feeling more and more alone. I knew, and yet I was distant with you. And then, when my flight landed and I saw your most recent message…”

  “So that’s why you never answered?” I interrupt. “You were on a plane?”

  “That’s why. And when I landed, I rushed straight here so that we could talk face to face rather than by text. Erica, please, please tell me I haven’t ruined everything. Tell me you’re not planning to cut me out of your life, and our child’s life.”

  “What?” I pull my head back to stare at him. “Of course I’m not. I would never do that.”

  He sighs, closing his eyes. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

  “I was afraid we’d lost you.”

  “No,” he says. “Never.”

  “Come inside,” I suggest, taking his hand. “I’ll make some tea. You must have had a long journey. You can lie down in the bedroom if you want to.”

  He shakes his head vigorously. “I’m not going to sleep until we’ve had a chance to talk.”

  He follows me into the kitchen and leans up against the counter as I start preparing the tea.

  “I should have expected it, Erica,” he says. “They’ve been watching me, and closely.”

  “Who has?”

  “Parliament. And they’ve set members of my own household guard to keep an eye on me, too. Those men and women are supposed to report to me, to fol
low my orders, but I know some of them feel more loyalty to Parliament, and their eyes are open. If I spend too much time on my phone, someone appears over my shoulder to see what I’m doing. The last thing I wanted in the world was for them to find out your name.”

  “Did they?” I ask. I set the kettle on to boil.

  “No. They know I’m having an ‘affair’”—he puts the word in air quotes, as if it’s rotten and distasteful to him—“with an American woman, but that’s all they know. And that you’re pregnant, of course. But they don’t know it’s you.”

  “So you told them about the pregnancy?”

  “I did. That’s why they’ve been monitoring me so closely. When I refused to give up a name, there was a bit of an uproar.”

  “You’ll have to give my name eventually,” I point out, wondering at his long-term strategy.

  “I want to secure royal protection for you first,” he says. “If you’re under the protection of my name, there are limits to what the press can write about you. You’ll also be able to come and stay at the palace. I’m not going to let them rake you over in the tabloids. I have to know they’re willing to work with us.”

  I frown. “I thought you said getting Parliament’s support wouldn’t be a problem. You said the people who had a problem with situations like ours were all old and out of power now.”

  Alex sighs. “It didn’t go exactly the way I’d hoped. But let’s sit down and talk about it. We have plenty to discuss.”

  The water boils, and I pull down two mugs, faintly embarrassed when I realize they’re both novelty gifts from my father. Nothing else is clean right now. I hand Alex the one that says “vodka” on it, and he reads it and laughs.

  “I hope not,” he says. “I’m afraid I’d pass out on your couch at the first taste.”

  I drop a tea bag into his mug. “It’s blackberry. Come into the living room, and we can talk.”

  We settle ourselves on the couch. Whatever’s coming isn’t going to be good news, I know, and yet I can’t stop smiling at him.

  He smiles back.

  “What?” he asks.

  “I’m just so happy to see you!” I say. “I know it’s ridiculous, and that we have a lot to work through, but…I don’t know what I can say. Every time I see you, it’s as if everything I’m worried about disappears. It’s been that way every time.”

  He nods. “I feel the same way.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s very hard to be worried about Parliament when you’re sitting in front of me,” he says. “But I can’t allow myself to be distracted. We need to talk about this, Erica. You were absolutely right in your message to me.”

  “Okay,” I say. “What happened when you told them?”

  “I was sent out of the chamber so that the ministers could discuss the matter,” he says. “Even then, I assumed it was only a formality, and that when I was called back, I would be congratulated. I thought everyone would be pleased that I was expecting a child, happy that there would be a new member to the royal lineage.”

  “I’m guessing that’s not what happened.”

  “Far from it. When I was brought back in, the ministers were in the midst of a fiery debate. About half of them were ready to support me—support us—and bring you over to Avaran right away. Introduce you to the people, and reveal the story publicly. They said the same things I’ve been saying. In this day and age, there’s nothing shameful about a man and a woman having a child outside of marriage, and plenty to respect about their standing by each other and committing to giving that child a good life.”

  “So, that’s good,” I say. “That’s what we were hoping for.”

  He nods. “But then there was the other half. And, I’m sorry to say, they were actually the scant majority. They didn’t like it. I expected that the younger members of Parliament would support us, but many of them are from the same families as the older members who have retired. There are also many who support my uncle, who gained their government seats thanks to his help. So they weren’t happy at the thought of me being supported for the very same action that got him condemned and forced him to abdicate.”

  “So they want you to suffer simply because your uncle had to suffer?” I frown. “That wasn’t your decision. You had no part in it. Why should you be punished for it?”

  “I don’t know if it’s exactly about punishing me,” he says. “But you have to understand, it’s only been one generation. My uncle is still around, and everyone knows him as the man who was once their king. Everyone knows me as the boy who came into his inheritance thanks to the king’s downfall. It’s been hard for some people to embrace my claim to the throne. And for those people, this feels like a double standard.”

  “You’re awfully understanding,” I say. “If it were me, I don’t think I’d be so willing to appreciate their side of it.”

  “It’s something I’ve been coached on my whole life,” Alex says. “Politicking is an important part of the role I was born to play. I’ve been trained to face a room full of angry people, listen to their complaints, and help them find a solution.”

  I sigh, cradling my cup of tea in both hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.

  “What are we going to do?” I ask. “If Parliament can’t come to a consensus, where does that leave us?”

  “For a while it left us deadlocked,” Alex says. “The two sides argued, back and forth, and heatedly, for hours. My father was called in, in his official capacity as king, to give counsel.”

  “Was he on our side?” I ask anxiously. If we don’t have the approval of the king, we’re lost for certain.

  “He supports us,” Alex says, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “But his motives seem suspect to a lot of the legislators. His position is the same as mine, after all, in that he only came to power after Enzo was forced to abdicate. There are people who consider his claim to the throne shaky. They say if he’s going to overlook this…this indiscretion, as they call it, that he should pardon Enzo and hand the throne back to him.”

  “Would he?” I ask.

  “No,” Alex says. “I asked him that too, and he says it’s not an option. The people might think of it as justice, but too many changes in who rules a country does nothing but make it unstable. It would be bad for Avaran if he turned the throne back over to his brother. My father is a strong king, and he’ll do right by his people.”

  “So what happened?” I ask. “Was your father able to persuade them? Or overrule them?”

  “No, the king doesn’t have the power to overrule Parliament,” Alex says. “The two seats of power are meant to keep each other in balance. That way nobody has too much control. But enough members of Parliament are against the idea of my being allowed to keep my title if I recognize this child that we’re going to face a problem.” He shudders. “They really did have some cruel things to say.”

  “What did you do?” I ask, even as I’m afraid to hear his response.

  “My father told me to be patient, but I was angry,” he admits. “I went to Parliament a second time, alone, to address them once again. I told them they would have to listen, that I would stay there in their chambers until they’d heard me out and given me a final answer. I told them my child was growing every day and that I couldn’t wait around while they debated what our life was going to be. I needed an answer.”

  I feel my breath catch in my throat. “That was very brave of you,” I say. “Or…very foolish.”

  “A bit of both, I’m afraid,” Alex says. “That was why my father didn’t want me to go. But I was stubborn. I stood before the members of Parliament and told them I wouldn’t be blackmailed into denying my own child. I told them the choice wasn’t mine to make, but theirs. They could accept me, and accept you and the baby along with me, or they could demand my removal from the throne and let their reason for doing so be known to all.”

  “You can’t,” I protest. “You can’t give up your title, Alex. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. You can
’t let them make you do that.”

  “I don’t want to,” he says. “But what kind of ruler would I be if I allowed bureaucrats to push me around and force me into actions I was morally opposed to? Avaran shouldn’t have a king like that. That’s a far worse thing than having a baby out of wedlock.

  “That’s true,” I agree.

  “The ironic thing is that I feel more capable of leading now than I ever have,” he says. “I feel aware of right and wrong. I feel confident in my choices. I stood up to Parliament. I stood up to my father, the king. All in the name of what I know to be right.”

  “And that would make you a great leader,” I agree, resting a hand on his arm. “Avaran would be lucky to have such a king.”

  He smiles. “I’m glad you think so. But I’m not sure they realize it. And if they give me an ultimatum, I know now that I’m strong enough to walk away from the throne.” He holds up a hand before I can protest. “It’s the right thing to do, Erica. It’s what’s best for the people of Avaran, and it’s what’s best for our family. I couldn’t possibly make any other choice.”

  Chapter 17

  The telling of Alex’s story, like a session of lovemaking or a good long cry, seems to have exhausted us both. I feel physically and mentally drained by it. I turn around on the couch and lean into Alex’s chest, my head on his shoulder.

  “I can’t believe all this,” I say. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

  He nods. “I can’t believe it either. The whole flight over, I never really processed what I was doing. I’ve never flown commercial before.”

  “You flew commercial?” I look up at him.

  “I flew coach, actually,” he says, grinning. “It was all I could get at the last minute.”

  “Poor baby,” I tease him, stretching up to plant a kiss on his jaw.

  In actuality, I am impressed. It’s a long flight from Avaran to LA, and for someone who’s never been on a commercial airliner before to spend all that time in coach just to see me…it’s a big deal.