I want to tell her that I’ve already thought about it. I already know what my answer will be. But the look in her eye stops me. I gulp, nodding.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Margot’s shoulders relax, and she lays a soft kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”
I smile, taking her hand and leading her inside. If only she knew that every kiss she gives me, every look she throws my way, every touch of her skin against mine—it just makes me more sure that she’s the one I want to be with.
I’m dizzy with emotion when we walk back into the bakery’s front room. Luca, Ivy, and her friends the twins all glance at us.
Ivy sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly turning her phone toward Margot.
Margot’s eyes widen, and she turns the screen to me.
It’s a picture of her and me by the dumpsters, kissing. It must have been taken and posted only a few minutes ago, and it’s already blowing up.
Is Prince Dante the Father?
My heart starts thumping as my thoughts get cloudy. Nausea starts rising inside me and I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself.
The comments under the picture are vicious.
She’s such a slut. All she wants is a prince like her sister.
Why would he want to be with a recovering drug addict? Didn’t she go to rehab after an overdose? Her baby is probably sick, anyway.
Isn’t Prince Dante a recluse? I heard that he killed someone when he was a kid, and that’s why he refuses to make public appearances.
Prince Dante is so ugly I want to barf.
The LeBlanc sisters are such gold diggers. I feel bad for the Argyle Princes.
I know I shouldn’t care. Why would it matter what some random person on the internet thinks of me?
Somehow, though, it does matter. Strangers’ words cut me deep, just like they did all those years ago. I hate seeing hateful comments. I hate seeing them criticize Margot, when she’s the strongest and best person I’ve ever met. I hate seeing spiteful words from people I’ve never met.
It makes me feel sick.
I’m still not used to my face in the media. I’ve spent so long keeping my privacy sacred, staying hidden away, that I don’t know how to react.
Then, the front door of the bakery bursts open, and a dozen cameras start flashing. They come rushing at us, screaming and howling as they take picture after picture of us. Margot shields her face, turning to the back of the bakery and slipping through the door.
I stand there, stunned.
Cameras flash in my face. Paparazzi reach over the counter, grabbing at me and screaming questions.
It’s not until Luca grabs me and drags me to the back that my body starts functioning again. I stumble over my feet, catching myself on the edge of the door before slipping to the relative serenity of the kitchens.
Margot has her hands over her face.
Luca stares at me.
I just stand there.
Margot’s words sink in, then, and I understand what she meant when she asked me if this was what I really wanted. She wasn’t only talking about her and the baby. She was talking about everything else, too.
Am I ready to give up my privacy? To be with the biggest star in Farcliff? Am I ready to be photographed and talked about, to be torn apart by the media and stared at under a microscope every time I go outside?
For the first time since I met Margot, I’m not sure.
I don’t know if I can handle a stampede of photographers bursting through the door every day. I’m not sure I can handle questions about the baby’s father, questions about my decisions, questions about my feelings for Margot.
Sure, my phone has lived in a drawer and I’ve avoided reading anything online since Hunter’s story broke, but that doesn’t solve anything.
Do I really want this to be my life from now on? Hiding in back rooms because I’m afraid of being trampled by bloodthirsty photographers?
When Margot drops her hands from her face and meets my gaze, I know she can read me like a book.
She already knows I’m not sure, and I watch her heart break in front of me.
18
Margot
I should have known it was too good to be true.
The minute Prince Dante walked into my life, I should have been the one running in the other direction. My therapist has been telling me to live my life with as much routine as possible. Avoid extreme emotions. Keep myself out of situations that might cause me to harm myself until I’m strong enough to handle them.
And what do I do?
I run head-first into Prince Dante’s arms.
Cracks splinter across my heart as Dante stares at me across the bakery. The distance between us grows, and I’m not sure anything can bridge it.
How stupid of me to think that he would want my child! He doesn’t even know me!
How could I presume that another man would step into that role? Why would he?
Not only that, how could I ask Prince Dante to give up the life he’s created for himself for me? Being with me is so much more complicated than being with anyone else. I’m damaged, in more ways than one, and all my flaws are displayed for the whole world to see.
He doesn’t even know the biggest flaw of all. He doesn’t know the secret that I’ve been hiding from everyone, including Ivy.
I turn away from him. I can’t withstand his stare any longer. His eyes are like an assault on my heart, throwing dagger after dagger into my chest.
Taking a trembling breath, I try to talk myself down. At least this happened now, and not after the baby is born. At least I have a few months to get used to being on my own again. At least I know how he feels for sure.
Isn’t it better to know now, than to find out later?
Then why does it hurt so fucking bad?
I lean against one of the stainless steel trolleys, sucking a breath in through my teeth. I slide a hand over my stomach, drawing strength from the life growing inside me.
I always knew I was on my own. All Prince Dante gave me was a quick distraction.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I ignore the pain in my chest as my heart starts to break all over again.
Alone, alone, alone.
He doesn’t even know the truth about my disease. Once he finds out, he’ll run. I know he will. And it’ll be my fault, because I didn’t have the guts to tell him.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
Then, a warm, strong hand sweeps over my back. I inhale Prince Dante’s scent, leaning into his touch. He spins me around to face him, cupping my cheek in his hand.
When he crushes his lips against mine, I sob. The Prince wipes my tears away with his thumbs, kissing me harder. Trembling against him, I don’t want to give in to the love he’s offering.
I want to lock myself away and never see anyone again. I want to suffer on my own. I never want to feel this disappointment again. Even for the few moments when I thought he was walking away, it hurt too much to face.
But Prince Dante wraps his arms around me, and I have no choice—I never had a choice with him. As soon as he walked into my life, he had my heart in the palm of his hand.
Pulling away from his kiss, I stare into the Prince’s eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve to be kissed.” His body is hard as he pulls me closer. His arms circle protectively around me, and I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before.
He wants to be let in, but I’m still hiding so much. Beckett is the father, and I have an incurable disease. I don’t deserve his love.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
Another tear falls from my eye, and he kisses it away. “Stop crying.”
“I thought you didn’t want this. The media. The gossip.” My breath hitches, and I force myself to say what I want to say. “The baby.”
Instead of answering, Prince Dante tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Come a
way with me.”
“What?”
“Come back to Argyle. Get away from Farcliff and all this paparazzi. Let me show you where I come from.”
My heart stutters.
The Prince’s eyes soften. “I care about you, Margot. I know it hasn’t been long, but I feel like meeting you was meant to be.”
He slips his hands into mine, staring into my eyes.
I take a deep breath, forcing a smile. “My whole life, I’ve been used by other people. Whether they meant to do it or not, it’s what’s happened. I was pulled out of school to start modeling. My father used me to generate income for himself. Then, everyone that I thought was a friend was just climbing over me to get more fame and fortune.”
The Prince tilts his head, listening. His hold on my waist tightens, and I feel a wave of affection rolling off him.
“The only person that I thought I could trust was Ivy, which is why it hurt me so badly when I felt like she had just used me to start her own bakery. Even my agent, Hunter, had worked with me for years. I knew being his client was a business relationship, but we worked together for so many years that I thought he genuinely cared about me. I was wrong.” I smile sadly. “That’s why it’s hard for me to believe you when you say you care about me.”
“What can I do to prove it to you?”
“You don’t have to prove it to me, Dante.” I shake my head, running my hands up his chest. “I just need to work through it in my own mind.”
“Does that mean you won’t come to Argyle?”
“I will,” I say slowly. “But I just need a few days to breathe. I don’t want to run away from the media. I don’t want to run away from my problems. My therapist says that I should sit with uncomfortable feelings instead of trying to mask them.”
Working on yourself is difficult. Facing your worst qualities and trying to improve them takes real effort, and not many people are willing to do it. I have to do it—for my sake and my child’s. I just hope Dante understands.
As soon as a smile tugs at his lips, I know he gets it. He nods, laying a gentle kiss on my lips. “You’re so strong, Margot. It never ceases to amaze me.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t feel strong.”
A security guard comes in the back door of the bakery, striding toward the two of us. “Your car is ready,” he says with a nod.
Luca dips his chin down at Dante and me. “Ivy and I will be back tonight. I’m going to stay here with her. I don’t like leaving her with this many people in the bakery.”
“See you tonight,” Dante says to his brother. He takes my hand and leads me through the back door. There are a slew of reporters waiting for us, but instead of hiding away from them, Dante flashes a smile. He waves to the cameras, and my heart grows.
This is the first time I’ve seen him comfortable in the public eye. Holding my hand and leading me to the car, he carries himself like a true Prince. The defenses I’ve built around my heart start to weaken, because I know the Prince is doing this for me. If it were up to him, he’d be hiding away in a palace in Argyle. The only reason he’s smiling for the cameras is because he wants to make me feel comfortable.
I don’t remember the last time someone did something like that for me.
Sure, I’ve been to lavish parties, and I’ve been paid for my time and presence. I’ve received boxes and boxes of gifts from companies. I’ve had people tell me what they think I’ve wanted to hear. I’ve been given the world.
I’ve never had someone stand beside me as proudly as Dante stands now, doing something that he hates, just because he wants to show me that he cares.
As we slide into the car, the Prince lets out a heavy sigh. He throws me a glance, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it. I was only in front of the cameras for a few seconds, and I feel exhausted.”
I smile, leaning my head on his shoulder.
I told him that he didn’t need to prove to me that he cared about me, but in those ten seconds from the door of the bakery to the car, he showed me more than he realizes. He put himself in an uncomfortable situation and stood by my side, even when he didn’t have to.
My heart thuds in my chest. I believe Dante when he says he cares about me. It makes me feel exhilarated and alive…
…and vulnerable.
Thinking that he cares about me opens me up to so much heartache.
But I listen to my therapist’s words. I sit with the uncomfortable feeling, knowing that I can get through it. Knowing it won’t last. Knowing that whatever lies on the other side is worth it.
19
Dante
Media circus doesn’t come close to describing the two weeks that follow the picture of Margot and me. For the thousandth time, I realize how lucky I’ve been in Argyle.
Sitting in the living room with Luca, I watch through the windows as a member of our security team tackles a photographer to the ground in the backyard. His camera goes skidding across the patio, and another photographer’s head pops up above the hedge.
Click, click, click.
Even from inside, I can hear the camera’s shutter—but that might just be an echo in my mind. For the past two weeks, I’ve been dreaming of the sounds of cameras, and waking up thinking a flash is going off in my bedroom.
“I think we might need to move,” Luca grins, glancing at me. “I thought you being here was supposed to help my security situation.”
“So did I.”
The security guard lifts the photographer off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder as another guard rushes to the hedges. Within seconds, the privacy in the backyard is restored. With every day that goes by, the paparazzi are getting more and more daring.
My face, which was once hidden from the public, is now on every newspaper. My name, once a footnote in the history of Argyle, is plastered all over the headlines.
Being a recluse has had the opposite effect that I wanted. Now that my name is front and center, people only want to know more.
I glance at my brother. “At least if it’s me in the news, it takes the heat off you.”
Luca chuckles, shaking his head. He sighs, staring out at the now-empty backyard. “We can’t live like this. Let me call in a favor.”
My brother pulls out his phone. When he says the name ‘Damon,’ I frown. Does he mean Prince Damon? I listen to him say a few words on the phone before hanging up. He glances at me, nodding.
“The royal family of Farcliff will prepare a wing for the four of us at the castle. We’ll be safer up there.”
I let out a sigh. Moving to the castle means relinquishing a lot of control over the security team we have here. If Beckett was able to attempt to murder Luca in the castle once before, what’s to say that he can’t do it again?
But as a big, burly security guard talks into his earpiece outside, scanning the tops of the hedges surrounding Margot’s property, I know it has to be done.
It’s no longer safe for us to stay here.
Luca stretches out on the sofa, staring at me. “So, you and Margot, hey?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“You know, I kind of thought you were into men when we were growing up. You never had a girlfriend, never talked about girls, nothing.”
I chuckle. “Did you?”
“Yeah, Theo and I talked about it before my accident. We thought you might have been scared to come out to us.”
I shake my head. “Nah. Just never met someone I liked. I preferred to be alone most of the time. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.”
Luca grunts. “You took the whole thing with Mother really badly.”
My face sours. I’ve told Margot a bit about what happened with our mother, but not the whole story. When our mother cheated on our father, it caused a splash in the papers. When it came out that our father’s brother was her lover, the media were relentless.
When Beckett was born, photographers stormed the castle and every event where our family would be attending. They were vicious an
d completely shameless.
One morning, I woke up with a photographer climbing through my bedroom window. I had nightmares for weeks, and it started off the whole chain of events that led to my barfing all over my ceremonial uniform and becoming Argyle’s first meme.
Then, our mother, the Queen, ran off with our uncle, leaving all four of us kids to fend for ourselves with an angry father and a ruthless pack of reporters.
I shake my head. “I never understood how you could forgive Mother. And then Cara…” I trail off, not wanting to open old wounds for my brother.
To my surprise, Luca smiles. “You can choose to be guarded and lonely, or you can take life as it comes. I spent a few years angry and bitter about Cara’s betrayal, but when I think about it now, it’s what brought Ivy into my life. It’s what will make me a father. I could never be bitter about that.”
Moving to Farcliff Castle happens quickly. Prince Damon sends a car for us that same evening, and Luca, Ivy, Margot, and I move to the luxury of the royal estate. As soon as we cross the gates into the royal grounds, the air changes.
I no longer feel the ever-present eye of the reporters, but instead, the pressure of court life. Farcliff is much more formal than Argyle, and I immediately want Margot to take up my offer to show her what my home Kingdom is like.
With winter now in full swing in Farcliff, I’m craving some warm weather and palm trees.
The four of us are led to our own guest wing of the castle. Luca is given the same room he was in before, and I’m housed next door. The two girls are across the hall from us.
I glance around the room at the affluence, sighing. A massive four-poster bed dominates the room, with big double doors leading to an ensuite bathroom. The taps in the bathroom are gold, with little gold accents all around the room. Everything is ornate, opulent, over-the top.
A quiet knock sounds on the door. I open it to see Margot staring back at me with a soft smile on her face.
“Hi,” she says.
Royally Unexpected 2: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection (Surprise Baby Stories) Page 32