The children—two boys and a girl—sit on an overstuffed sofa and smile politely. The youngest, a girl, looks to be about nine years old. She’s staring at Margot with wide eyes.
When we’re brought to the dining room, I catch Margot winking at the little Princess. Margot takes a sweet out of her purse and hands it to the princess, putting her finger to her lips conspiratorially. The girl smiles, and my heart warms.
It’s rare to see Margot acting without any guardedness. She usually has walls up so high around her that it’s hard to see the person behind them. The three kids naturally gravitate toward her, surrounding her as we make our way to the dining room.
Children and animals are the two greatest barometers when it comes to judging someone’s character. Right now, watching Margot interact with the three little royals makes my heart skip a beat.
They see the same qualities in her that I do.
I know I’ve only met Margot a couple of weeks ago. I know the most we’ve done is little more than kissing. So, why is my mind racing toward a future with her?
I could see her beside me, lazing in bed on a Sunday morning with a few kids of our own one day.
Tearing my eyes away from the blonde beauty, I inhale deeply to try to keep my thoughts under control. I barely know Margot. Just because I’m drawn to her doesn’t mean she’s going to carry my hypothetical children.
Telling myself to get a grip is useless, though, because every time I look at her, I see a future I never thought I’d have. A future I never thought I wanted.
A future that, all of a sudden, seems possible.
14
Margot
When we get back to our own house, Luca and Ivy disappear upstairs. I glance into the kitchen, wishing I could have a glass of wine to unwind.
It’s not even just the fact that I’m pregnant. It’s what happened that night with Beckett. Since he’s gone on the run, I’ve thought that he’s the one that caused my overdose, but I just don’t remember. That hole in my memory tortures me, and I don’t want to feel out of control again.
Part of me thinks it was Beckett’s fault, somehow. The worst part is, I can’t say anything about it, because no one knows that Beckett was with me. If someone found out, they might put two and two together about the baby, and, well, that would be a disaster.
Alcohol used to be my favorite vice. Now, I don’t even want to touch it. Even when I’m lonely and emotional, which seems to be happening a lot these days.
Tonight, after seeing the love that the King and Queen have for each other, I feel lonelier than ever.
I head out to the pool in the backyard. With winter on the way, the pool technician drained the pool a few inches this week. There won’t be any swimming in it until next year.
I watch the vapor of my breath in the night air, letting my shoulders relax as I sink down onto a pool lounge chair. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I try to ward off the cold. In a way, it feels good to have the chill of the air seep into my bones. It makes me feel alive. Awake.
A noise behind me makes me turn my head.
“Mind if I join you?” Prince Dante asks.
I smile. “Of course not. I was just trying to unwind. Being on my best behavior tends to stress me out.”
The Prince’s smile widens. “I’d love to see you on your worst behavior.”
“Don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.”
The Prince grins, taking a seat in the lounge chair next to mine, his hand drifting over to me. He rests it on top of mine, and the warmth of his skin sends comfort flowing through my body.
How is it possible to feel so comfortable with someone I barely know?
“Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other for longer than two weeks?” Dante glances at me, quirking an eyebrow.
“Like we’re long-lost lovers that have somehow, against all odds, reunited at last?”
“Exactly,” he grins.
I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, actually. I do.”
“At least I’m not crazy.”
“I never said that,” I laugh. “Maybe we’re both crazy.”
“Crazy isn’t so bad.” His fingers curl around my hand. My heart thumps.
My other hand drifts to my stomach. I want to tell Dante about the baby. I want to tell him everything. All the pain that I’ve been holding inside me, all the anxiety and fear, all the hopes and dreams and silly visions that I have for my future.
I want him to know everything. I want him to be a part of my future.
Is it desperate? Maybe.
It’s true, though.
A lump forms in my throat, and the words stick. Closing my eyes, I let his presence comfort me until I can breathe again.
“Is it hard staying sober?”
The Prince’s question surprises me. I turn my head to look at him, frowning slightly. He noticed I’ve been sober?
He continues: “I mean, I’ve seen you refuse drinks at multiple dinners. I assumed it was something with your therapy. I just thought it might be hard, considering who you are and the kind of events you have to go to.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “No. It’s not really that hard.” With my hand still on my stomach, I think of my child. It’s not hard to stay sober for my baby.
The Prince’s eyebrows arch. “No?”
I chuckle. “I mean, not really. I only ever really partied, I was never a really heavy user or anything. I drank a lot at celebrity events. There are some embarrassing photos of me online.”
“Yeah,” Dante says, gazing at the pool.
“You’ve seen them?”
He stiffens, straightening up in the chair. “I mean, I don’t… I’m not…”
“Have you been Googling me, Your Highness?”
Dante swings his gaze to meet mine and a grin tugs at the corner of his full, irresistible lips. “Can you blame me?”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Plenty.”
His eyes linger on mine, sending pulsing heat rushing through my body. Whenever he looks at me like that, butterflies explode though my stomach. I clear my throat, tearing my gaze away from his. If I look at him much longer, I’ll be climbing onto his chair and straddling him right here, right now.
I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I have lots of reasons to stay sober. It kills me that I don’t know what happened the night that I OD’d.”
“Have you ever considered that it might have been Beckett?”
I gulp, keeping my gaze straight ahead. “Your Highness, I wouldn’t…” If I say yes, he’ll know I was with Beckett.
“Come on, Margot. My half-brother went on a murderous rampage. He was trying to get at Luca by any means possible. Why not through you?”
My mind spins circles around me. How am I supposed to answer this? If I say yes, it’ll be tantamount to admitting that Beckett was with me. If I say no, I’m lying, and I’ve never been a good liar.
So, I settle on the truth.
“I’ve thought of it, but I don’t know how he would have hurt me.”
He nods, gazing at me. “I’ll find out.”
“Dante, you don’t have to do that. You have enough to deal with already, between Luca and the security around here. You don’t need to add me to your list of burdens.”
“You’re not a burden. Never.”
I take a deep breath, staring up at the stars in the sky. My breath leaves little puffs of vapor, and I watch it dissipate. The Prince squeezes my hand.
“I mean it, Margot. I care about you.”
“Long-lost lovers,” I whisper, staring up at the night sky.
The truth is on the tip of my tongue. The Prince has shoved a wedge in the cage around my heart, and he’s slowly prying it open. I could open my mouth and tell him everything.
My diagnosis. The night I found out. The baby. Beckett. My suspicions about my overdose.
I can’t get the words out, though. I’m scared of losing what little affection he has for me.
“He
y,” Dante whispers, tugging at my arm. I turn to look at him, feeling the wedge in my chest split the cage open another fraction of an inch. His eyes are so kind. They make me want to spill my secrets, to share my entire life with him.
It wouldn’t be that hard. In a few words, I could rid myself of this awful burden. I could tell him everything. It’s like he said—it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Maybe he wouldn’t turn me away. Maybe I wouldn’t lose him. Maybe it would bring us closer together.
He opens his mouth to speak, but the back door of the house slides open.
Felicity, my publicist, calls out my name. She comes running across the grass toward us.
“Margot! I’ve been trying to call you!”
“I don’t have my phone.”
Throwing an apologetic glance at the Prince, I get up off the lounge chair. Felicity huffs, leaning on the pool fence. When she sees the Prince, her eyes widen. She curtsies awkwardly and then turns to me. “Hunter gave an interview.”
My ribs squeeze. The Prince slides his hand over my lower back, and I lean into him for comfort.
Felicity glances at him, and then back at me. “He told the Enquirer that you’re pregnant. I’ve drafted a statement to deny it, but…” She chews her lip, glancing at my stomach.
“But you want to know if it’s true or not,” I finish for her.
Felicity nods, and the Prince freezes beside me.
“He published medical records,” Felicity says, frowning. “They could be fake, but…”
My heart sinks. I wish I could have had a few more weeks with him. Maybe even just a few more days, the way things are going. I wish I could have laid in bed beside him and felt his naked body next to mine. I would have loved to have felt him inside me just once—just to feel what it’s like to orgasm with a man like him.
But now, I’ll never know.
The news will never bring us closer together. Once he finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll never want to keep up this…whatever this is between us.
I take a deep breath, dragging my eyes up to Felicity’s. I nod.
Her face falls. “Margot…”
“Just over eighteen weeks,” I say, running my hand over my stomach.
The Prince hasn’t said a word. His hand is still on my back, but I can sense the uneasiness pulsing from him. Gathering all my courage, I force myself to look at him.
I gulp. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Tears sting my eyes.
The Prince shakes his head, sliding his hand around to hold my waist. “You were never obligated to tell me.”
Felicity clears her throat. “Is His Highness the father?” Her eyes dart from me to Dante and back to me again.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Who…?”
“It’s not important. He’s not in the picture.”
Felicity lets out a breath. “Well, this complicates things.”
I snort. “I know it does. But that’s why you get paid the big bucks, Felicity.”
“What am I going to tell your sponsors?”
“Tell them I’m going to be a mother,” I shrug.
“So…you’re keeping it?”
I stare at my publicist, letting her words sink in. Heat rises to my head and I feel like steam is blowing out of my ears. “Of course I’m keeping it, Felicity. This baby saved my life. This baby is the one good thing about my life right now.” I gulp, stealing a glance at the Prince. “Well, one of very few good things. It’s everything to me. To be honest with you, I don’t care about the sponsorships, or this house, or what you’ll say to news outlets or what you want to post to my social media. Do whatever you want. Excuse me.”
I nod to the Prince, slipping past Felicity and making my way into the house. My heart is racing and my face feels hot. I clench my fists, climbing the steps up to the second floor as blood pounds in my ears.
I can hear Ivy and Luca kissing in the living room, and it only makes me feel worse.
I’m alone.
Again.
I was a fool to think it could work out. I was an idiot to let Dante get close to me.
It’ll never work out. His murderous half-brother is the father of my child, and the minute he learns about it, he won’t want anything to do with me.
It’s not until I’m undressed and under a hot shower that I let my shoulders relax. I cradle my tiny baby bump, sending all my love and strength inward.
Then, I realize that I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone.
I have my baby.
15
Dante
I watch Margot walk away in stunned silence. Her publicist stares as well, and then turns her gaze to me.
“Did you know?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Scanning my body, I try to figure out what I’m feeling. Shocked, of course. Protective.
A little turned on?
The thought of Margot being a mother makes my heart thump. I saw the pain in her eyes when she looked at me—but also the determination.
Now, I feel like I understand the strength inside her. I understand how she can face her fears, her anxieties, and her worries. I understand how she can recover from her past and keep moving forward.
She’s a mother.
To my surprise, that fact doesn’t change my opinion of her, or how attracted I am to her. I watch Margot walk into the house as my heart grows in my chest.
I nod to the publicist and follow Margot inside. Voices draw me toward the living room, and I see Luca and Ivy in deep discussion. They both look up when I walk in.
Ivy’s face is tight. She gives me a small smile. “You found out about Margot?”
“Did you know?”
They both nod. I frown at Luca. “You didn’t tell me?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”
I sit with them, leaning against the sofa as I mull over this development. How does this impact Beckett and his attack on Luca? Is Margot in more danger now, or less?
Luca answers my unsaid question. “We’ll keep security tight on the two girls,” he says, nodding to me. “And continue trying to draw Beckett out to face us. Now, more than ever, it’s important that we keep Ivy and Margot safe. Who knows—maybe the news will be enough to get Beckett to show himself. Maybe he’ll think it’s mine.”
Tension ratchets up in my body at the thought of Luca touching Margot.
I take a deep breath. “Theo said they’re not having much luck searching Argyle. He’s had to open the ports and let planes fly on a normal schedule again, but security is still tight.”
“Who knows where Beckett is?” Luca shakes his head.
“I’m more worried about Hunter.” Ivy wrings her hands, staring between us. “Did you read the article? He was clearly vindictive and hoping that revealing Margot’s pregnancy would cause her pain. He even said she wasn’t fit to be a mother and took a jab at her sponsorships and brand partners, saying they should drop her.”
“Is he the father?” I try to ask the question casually, even though my throat tightens. The thought of a vindictive, hateful man like Hunter being the father of Margot’s child makes me sick. If he would willingly poison Ivy’s bakery just to spite her, who knows what he would do to his own child.
Ivy barks out a laugh, shaking her head. “I seriously doubt it. Margot wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.”
“So, you don’t know who the father is?”
Ivy shakes her head. “Haven’t been able to get it out of her.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know.” Luca runs his fingers through his hair.
“Let’s stop gossiping.” Ivy sighs, shaking her head. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do about this, and if it affects this whole mess with Beckett in any way.”
“Well, it might make Margot a target. He could see her as a weak point,” I say, lacing my fingers behind my head.
“She won’t want to leave the house.” Ivy chews her lip, sliding her hand into
Luca’s. “And this is happening just when she was starting to be herself again. Margot’s been so sad for so long, and just these past couple of weeks, I’ve seen the old Margot come out. She’s been happier. Calmer. She’s actually smiled multiple times.”
Ivy lets out a heavy sigh. My knee bounces up and down, and I glance toward the staircase. It feels wrong to be talking about Margot without her here. We should be comforting her, not outlining our security plans without her.
I excuse myself and stand up. Heading up the stairs, I turn toward Margot’s end of the hallway instead of my own. As I stand at her door, I raise my fist to knock.
I hesitate.
Who am I to offer her comfort? I’m just a guy who’s been living with her for a few weeks. Sure, we’ve kissed—and done a little bit more—but does she actually want to see me?
With a deep breath, I ignore my hesitation and rap my knuckles on the door.
“Yeah?” Margot’s voice calls out on the other side.
“It’s me.” I lean my forehead against the door, praying that she’ll let me in.
When I hear her footsteps on the other side, my breath catches. I lift my head as she opens the door, my heart racing behind my ribs. I stare into her bright, blue eyes, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and tell her it’ll be okay.
It’s not like me to be this sentimental. It’s not like me to search out someone just to comfort them. I’ve spent my entire life on my own, and it’s never bothered me.
But Margot is different. She’s gotten under my skin, and I need to make sure she’s okay. Her pain feels like my pain, and until I know that she’s feeling all right, I won’t be able to do anything.
“Hey,” she says, opening the door wider.
I step inside, inhaling the scent of her that clings to every surface of her bedroom. She gestures to a plush chair for me to sit and takes a seat at her vanity.
She’s wearing a light blue silk pajama set. The sight of the matching camisole and shorts makes my mouth water, even though I know it’s not the time to be thinking about these things.
Royally Unexpected 2: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection (Surprise Baby Stories) Page 30