Princess's Nine-Month Secret

by Kate Hewitt

  The knowledge jolted him, like missing the last stair. This wasn’t just about their baby; it was about him and Halina. Their relationship. Their marriage. Over the last few weeks he’d got used to having Halina with him; he enjoyed it, counted on it, even. And he wasn’t willing to give that up.

  But if their baby had died...there was no reason to get married. No reason at all, and with an uncomfortable, prickling sensation Rico realised that Halina would no doubt be glad to get away from him. She’d made it clear several weeks ago—hell, all along—that she was willing to marry him but she didn’t actually want to...because she wanted someone who would love her. Who could love her.

  And he couldn’t.

  ‘Signora Falcone?’

  Halina looked up, her face pale, her lips set in a firm line. Rico reached for her hand and together they walked towards the nurse, braced for the worst.

  The ultrasound room was dim and quiet as Halina lay back once again on the examining table and the technician squirted cold, clear gel on her bare belly, her baby bump barely visible. She looked so vulnerable lying there, waiting, worrying, and Rico’s heart ached for her. Ached for them, because he was so afraid it was all slipping away.

  He knew that fear. He knew it far too well, because he remembered feeling it when his father had dropped him off on the steps of the orphanage in Salerno, his face grim but determined.

  ‘They’ll take care of you here,’ he’d said while Rico had fought tears as he’d begged for his father to keep him. Not to leave him. He’d cried like a baby; he’d clung to his father’s sleeve and his father had had to push him off.

  Then he’d watched his father walk away; he hadn’t looked back once. And in that moment Rico had resolved never to let someone hurt him like that again.

  ‘Rico, look.’ Halina grabbed his sleeve, just as he had with his father, and he blinked back the memories as he was startled into the present. ‘Look, Rico. Our baby!’

  He focused on the ultrasound screen, and the beautiful sight of their tiny baby wriggling around like a jumping bean.

  ‘Baby looks fine,’ the technician said with a smile, and Halina let out an incredulous, shuddery laugh of joy. Rico’s smile nearly split his face. ‘It looks, Signora Falcone,’ the technician continued, ‘as if you’ve had a sub-chorionic haematoma.’

  ‘A what?’ Halina asked, her voice filled with nervousness.

  The technician gave her a quick, reassuring smile. ‘Basically a bleed between your baby and the uterine wall.’

  ‘Is it dangerous?’ Rico asked, his voice harsher than he’d meant it to be.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be.’ The technician gave them both a sympathetic smile. ‘Of course, any bleeding in pregnancy can be a cause of concern, and a haematoma of this size is definitely something we need to keep an eye on.’

  None of which sounded particularly good. ‘So what now?’ Rico asked. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘Signora Falcone can continue as normal,’ the technician said. ‘Which is what we’d advise. But we’d also advise slowing down a little if possible—not being on your feet too much, or carrying anything heavy, that sort of thing.’ She smiled at Halina. ‘Giving both you and your baby the best chance possible. And, if you have any more bleeding, don’t hesitate to call.’

  Rico’s mind was still spinning as they drove back home, dawn lighting the empty streets of Rome and touching them with rosy gold.

  Back in the penthouse Halina went straight to bed, and Rico tucked her in as if she were a child. ‘See?’ he said as he brushed a kiss across her lips. ‘I told you it was going to be okay.’

  Halina gave him a wan smile; she looked utterly exhausted. Within moments she was asleep.

  Back in the living area Rico pulled his laptop towards him and spent several hours finding out everything he could about sub-chorionic haematomas. The information was mixed, with some specialists saying they heightened the chance of miscarriage, and others saying they had no effect.

  His eyes gritty and aching, Rico stared out at the city and vowed to do everything he could to keep Halina and their baby safe. They’d come so close today to losing it all and it had scared him.

  It had scared him even more how devastated he’d been at the thought of not losing just his child, but Halina too. He was starting to care for her and that prospect terrified him more than anything.

  How could he make Halina happy, love their baby and yet keep the emotional distance from her he knew he needed? The lines were blurring more and more every day. Soon it would be impossible...and what then?

  ‘What time is it?’

  Rico looked up, startled out of his thoughts, to see Halina standing in the doorway, her hair in a dark cloud about her face, her expression still sleepy.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He checked his watch. ‘About ten in the morning. You should get back in bed.’

  ‘I can’t spend the next five months in bed, Rico.’

  ‘You heard what the technician said.’

  ‘Yes, I did. Did you?’ With a wry smile she crossed the room and curled up on the opposite end of the sofa. ‘She said I needed to take it a bit easier, not that I needed to be bedridden.’

  ‘Still...’

  She turned to him, her smile gone, her expression serious. ‘Don’t you think I’m going to do everything in my power to take care of this baby?’

  Slightly abashed, Rico nodded. Yes, he believed that. Of course he did.

  Halina drew her knees up, resting her chin on top. ‘Still, it could all go wrong,’ she said quietly. ‘We have to be prepared for that.’

  ‘Just as we have to do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen,’ Rico returned. ‘I’m going to call off the wedding.’

  ‘What?’ She turned to him, startled, her eyes wide and dark.

  ‘It’s too much strain and pressure on you. We can have a quiet wedding later, or reschedule a big ceremony, if that’s what you prefer.’

  ‘But all the preparations...all the money you spent...’

  ‘What does money matter? Your health is more important. Our child’s health. Besides, perhaps if we wait a while your father will come round and decide to attend.’

  Pain flashed across her face and she nodded slowly. ‘Yes. Maybe.’ She sounded so sad that Rico ached to hold her, but he didn’t, because something about Halina right now was cool and brittle, as if she were trying to maintain a certain distance. Her next words confirmed it.

  ‘But Rico...if I do lose this baby...we need to talk about that.’

  He tensed, his jaw clenched. ‘Let’s not court disaster, Halina.’

  ‘Let’s also be prepared,’ she returned evenly. ‘Isn’t that your motto? Wasn’t that why you had all those provisions in the car when we were trapped in the sandstorm in the desert? Because you like to be prepared.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘So let’s be prepared for this,’ Halina said steadily. ‘If I lose the baby, we don’t have to marry. You’re free.’

  Why did he now hate that thought? ‘And what about you?’ he asked. ‘Are you free?’

  ‘Yes,’ Halina returned after a pause. ‘Yes, I will be. I told you before, I never wanted a marriage without love.’

  He fought to keep his expression neutral when everything in him wanted to cry out, to resist and deny. ‘So what will you do, in this worst-case scenario? Return to Abkar?’

  She let out a small huff of sad laughter and shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll get that apartment in Paris I always dreamed about, with a piano and a terrace.’

  But how would she do that? She had no money, no resources, and if she was free from him, her father might plan another marriage for her. But maybe Halina would prefer that, rather than be shackled to him for the rest of her life. The knowledge hurt, far more than Rico wanted it to.

  ‘Well, then,’ he said in a hard v
oice. ‘Now we’re prepared for the worst. So let’s hope for the best, hey? And keep you on bed rest.’

  She smiled faintly. ‘In control, as always.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rico answered, but he didn’t feel in control at all. Now, more than ever, he felt as if things were spinning out of his grasp...especially his own heart.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  TODAY WOULD HAVE been her wedding day. Halina gazed out of the window of her bedroom at the buildings and streets of the Eternal City, feeling more in limbo now than ever. The last week had been endless, lying in bed, waiting for the worst to happen.

  Since the first terror-filled visit to the hospital, thankfully she hadn’t had any more episodes of bleeding, but she still lived in fear, and so did Rico. They were both tiptoeing around each other, a constant strain between them, caused, Halina supposed, by the new uncertainty that had opened up like a yawning chasm, sending them both into tense isolation.

  Any day, any week, and it could all be over. Their child’s life, the little family they’d been creating, the marriage they’d both intended to embark on. All of it could be reduced to nothing. It was exhausting, living with that kind of uncertainty, and Halina spent most of her enforced bed rest sleeping, in part just to escape the strain. How long would it last? The next five months? Or maybe not long at all. Maybe today would be the day it ended. It was impossible to know.

  What she did know was that she’d fallen in love with Rico and it was tearing her apart. At every turn her fears were confirmed and the knowledge that he didn’t love her, didn’t want to love her, reverberated through her all over again, a loss she could never get used to. A tiny, treacherous part of her almost wondered if losing this baby would bring its own bitter relief, because then she wouldn’t be faced with a loveless future with Rico. She hated herself for thinking that way for even a single second, and guilt scorched through her, making her even more miserable.

  Rico had berated her for not taking care of herself, and had tried to make her eat when she had no appetite due to fear and worry. She knew he was feeling it too, and she wished they could comfort each other in their shared anxiety and sorrow. But that never seemed to be the case; like the ninth circle of Dante’s terrible hell, they were frozen in their own isolation, doomed to a life of loneliness.

  The sound of the intercom of the flat buzzing had Halina turning from the window in surprise. Rico was at work, and no one called at the flat; deliveries were left with the building’s doorman.

  Cautiously she went to answer the intercom. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Signorina?’ The doorman’s disembodied voice came through the speaker. ‘You have a visitor.’

  ‘A visitor...?’

  ‘Sultan Hassan Amar,’ the doorman said in a tone of utmost respect. ‘He says he is your father.’

  For a few seconds Halina couldn’t think. She couldn’t even breathe. She simply stood there, blinking, one finger pressed down on the intercom.

  ‘Signorina?’

  ‘Yes, I’m here.’ Her voice sounded strangely tinny and faraway. ‘Send him up.’

  As soon as she’d said the words she half-regretted them. What if her father was here to take her back home against Rico’s wishes? What if she got kidnapped yet again? But then she reasoned that he wouldn’t have come to do such a thing on his own. And in any case, if he was on his own she could resist. If she wanted to.

  The treacherous flicker of wanting made her pause. Could she really be thinking that way, even for a moment?

  The lift doors pinged open and then her father stepped into the open area of the penthouse. Halina turned to him, her mind spinning, her heart beating wildly as her throat dried.

  ‘Father.’

  ‘Halina.’ His gaze dipped down to the gentle swell of her belly. ‘You are looking well.’

  ‘Am I?’ She laughed uncertainly because lately, despite all the rest, she’d been looking as worn out as an old dishrag. ‘I don’t feel all that well.’

  ‘You don’t? Is something wrong?’

  The note of alarm in her father’s voice caught her on the raw. ‘Why do you care?’ she couldn’t keep herself from retorting bitterly. ‘You never wanted this baby to live.’

  Her father’s face contorted with a spasm of grief and he started towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘Halina, habibi...’

  ‘Don’t.’ Halina stepped back quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. ‘Why are you here, Father?’

  ‘I was intending to come to your wedding, and then Falcone informed me he’d called it off.’

  She flinched, in part because of the stark fact of her father’s words, and in part because Rico hadn’t even told her that her father had called, or that he’d changed his mind and had been planning on coming to their wedding after all. The relationship between her and Rico, if she could even call it that, had broken down even more than she’d realised... But perhaps nothing had been built up enough to be broken. It had all been in her head, the intimacy, emotion and love. All on her side.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down, Halina?’ her father suggested gently. ‘And let us talk.’

  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold despite the warm October day. ‘What do we have to talk about?’

  ‘There is much I wish to say to you. Much I sincerely regret.’

  Halina hesitated, then she nodded. ‘All right.’ They moved towards a pair of luxurious grey suede sofas; she’d spent many happy evenings there curled up next to Rico, watching television or reading a book, pleasant hours they’d whiled away together. It felt like a dream world now.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I want to apologise for my conduct to you,’ Hassan said seriously. ‘I regret the way I acted very much.’ He bowed his head, seemingly overcome, and Halina stared at him, too shocked to feel gratified or hopeful. Yet.

  ‘Do you...do you really mean that?’

  Hassan looked up, tears gleaming in his dark eyes. ‘Yes, I do. Events overtook me, my daughter, and I let them carry me away. I couldn’t think properly with everything that had happened. Prince Zayed’s kidnapping attempt, your situation... There was so much to deal with.’

  ‘I know,’ Halina whispered. ‘For me too, Father. And I... I know I acted improperly. Recklessly. I regret that very much. I do.’

  ‘And I acted recklessly as well,’ the Sultan returned seriously. ‘But let us have no more regrets, Halina. Now that the wedding is called off, I am here to take you home.’

  Halina stared at her father in shock, his words penetrating her overwhelmed state and leaving her cold. ‘Take me home...?’

  ‘Where you belong. Where you’ll be happy. This is no place for you.’

  ‘Rico Falcone is the father of my child.’

  ‘I have had investigators research his past,’ Hassan returned, his tone becoming cold. ‘Do you know this man, Halina? Do you really know him?’

  She loved him. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘That he grew up a gutter rat, and then made his fortune in property investments, and has been known for years as being a cold, ruthless, heartless man. That he has had many women, more than you can imagine, and they never lasted for more than a week. That he has been quoted as saying he doesn’t believe in love and he doesn’t have time for marriage. This is not a man you want to marry, habibi.’

  Nothing her father had said about Rico was a surprise to her, but to hear it spelt out so plainly, so terribly... It was hard to bear. Hard to accept. And yet Halina knew she had to.

  ‘This is not the man for you,’ Hassan said definitively. ‘Or for your child.’

  ‘Rico would never leave his child,’ Halina said, unsure what she was really saying. That he would leave her? That she wanted to go but couldn’t? She felt a welter of confusion and grief, and it didn’t help that things had been so strained between Rico and her recently. She was fill
ed with doubt and fear.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ Hassan asked, his tone gentle. ‘Has he said so?’

  ‘He took me from the Palace of Forgotten Sands,’ Halina reminded him bitterly. ‘Where you’d left me to rot.’

  ‘That is not true, habibi. I put you there to keep you safe.’

  Her father had a penchant for viewing things through his own singular lens. He always had. It hadn’t mattered when she’d been treated like a spoilt pet, but now it made a difference.

  ‘That’s what it felt like, Father,’ Halina said quietly. ‘And I don’t have any desire to return to such circumstances.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m suggesting at all,’ Hassan protested. ‘Halina, I am asking you to return to your home, your family. Your sisters long to see you, and so does your mother.’

  ‘You forbade me from seeing my sisters.’

  Hassan bowed his head. ‘An impetuous decision that I regret. Halina, come home. We all want you to come home. Falcone can’t force you to stay here, and in all truth I suspect he would be relieved if you left. Such a man is not made for marriage and family.’

  Halina flinched, because her father was only voicing her own terrible suspicions. What if they were both right? What if Rico secretly wanted her to go? Yes, he had a protective streak a mile wide, and he’d been determined to look after her and their baby. But she didn’t sense any joy from him, any gladness that he had to do it, that she was here. In her darkest moments she’d even wondered if Rico would be relieved if things ended, if they had no child together.

  ‘Halina,’ Hassan said gently. ‘I have the royal jet at the airport. We can be heading back to Abkar, to your family, in an hour.’

  She ached to see her sisters, her mother. To feel safe and loved, instead of restless and uncertain.

  ‘I can’t leave without telling Rico,’ she said, hardly able to believe she was saying the words.

  ‘Telling me what?’ Rico demanded as he stepped through the doors of the lift and surveyed them both with a dark glare.