The Future King's Love-Child (The Royal House 0f Karedes Book 6)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘I don’t want to go back to the orphanage,’ Sam said, starting to cry. ‘I want to stay here with Daddy and you.’

  Sebastian rubbed at his face, his throat tightening as he thought of how different things could have been if he had known six years ago what he knew now. He would have done anything to have avoided the pain he could see etched on his little boy’s face. What sort of father did Sam think he was that he hadn’t done a single thing so far to give him what he was entitled to?

  Cassie was looking daggers at him, piercing him with silent blame for upsetting their child, and Sebastian could hardly blame her. He had handled things appallingly. Sam was far too young to understand the dynamics of the situation. He would need careful nurturing and protection until something could be sorted out.

  For so long the search for the Stefani diamond and Sebastian’s future coronation as King had been his entire focus. He had thought of nothing else but how he could lead his people, and yet now he was faced with an agonising decision.

  How could he take Sam away from his mother, even for an access visit? Sam was insecure and painfully shy. Besides, what little boy didn’t need their mother at that age?

  And then there was Cassie. The young woman Sebastian had never been able to erase from his mind. The last two nights had brought it all back, the way she made him feel, the passion that flared so hotly between them. He had been surprised at how disappointed he had felt when he had woken to find she had gone back to her room some time during the early hours of the morning. He had lain there in amongst the crumpled bedclothes, breathing in her scent, his body aching to possess her all over again.

  The people of Aristo would never accept her as his bride. They were going to have enough trouble accepting her as the mother of his son. Cassie’s past was always going to be a stumbling block. But last night at the piano he had seen a side to her that was as far from the party-girl socialite as anyone could be. It made him wonder if he had been too hasty in his judgement of her, in fact if everyone had been too hasty. There was a haunting sadness about her, he had been noticing it more and more, especially when she thought he wasn’t watching.

  Eleni came in at that moment and with a few cheery words with Sam led him away to play with some toys she had found in the nursery upstairs.

  Cassie turned and glared at him. ‘Couldn’t you have waited until Sam was feeling a little more settled before dumping all that on him?’ she asked.

  Sebastian raked his hand through his hair. ‘What was I supposed to do?’ he asked. ‘There is no point lying to him. I am his father and I want him to know and accept that.’

  ‘You wanted to stake your claim on him, that’s what you wanted,’ she said, flashing her emerald gaze at him. ‘I won’t let you take him away from me, Sebastian.’

  ‘I am not going to do anything that will not be of benefit to my son,’ he said.

  Her eyes flared. ‘Oh, and what is that supposed to mean? That it will be of much greater benefit to him to be away from his jailbird mother?’

  ‘I didn’t say that, Cassie.’

  ‘You didn’t have to,’ she said. ‘I can see it every time you look at me. You are thinking how the hell am I going to tell the world who the mother of my son is—isn’t that right, Sebastian?’

  He set his jaw. ‘Look, Cassie, this is a difficult situation for both of us. I have so little time in which to get to know Sam before I have to announce his existence. I have missed out on so much and I need to do what I can to make up for it. Do you realise I haven’t even seen a photograph of him as a baby?’

  Her stiff stance relaxed a little. ‘I brought some photographs with me,’ she said. ‘I grabbed them when Stefanos took us via the flat.’

  Sebastian was surprised she had thought to do so, especially given the haste in which he had insisted his orders be carried out. ‘I would like to see them,’ he said, trying to disguise the lump that had risen in his throat.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ she said. ‘They’re in my room.’

  Sebastian’s mobile started to ring and he unhooked it from his belt and glanced at the screen. ‘I’ll have to get this, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Can you find your way to my study? I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.’

  She gave a nod and slipped out of the room while Sebastian took the call, keeping his voice low as he spoke to Stefanos. There was still no news about the Stefani diamond but neither had there been anything leaked to the press about Sam. There were some photographs in the paper of the party and a short piece about Sebastian’s role as royal patron, but thankfully nothing else, so far.

  Cassie took the scrapbooks she had made and after a few wrong turns made her way to Sebastian’s study. She stood outside for a moment, holding the books against her chest, trying to prepare herself for yet another emotional journey through time. Every time she looked at the photos documenting Sam’s life she felt such an aching sadness that she hadn’t been able to give him a normal start to life. Everything had been against her from the very start. Sam had opened his eyes inside the walls of a bleak prison, not in the richly furnished palace where by blood he belonged. There had been no one with her when she had given birth after twenty agonising hours of labour, no one but a gruff midwife and a particularly unsympathetic prison guard who had stood and watched every intimate detail with a sneering expression on her face.

  Cassie had longed for Sebastian to suddenly burst through the door and come to her. She’d had to bite down on her lip until it was bleeding to stop from crying out for him as every contraction had rippled through her abdomen.

  She had never missed her mother more than at that point when Sam had finally been handed to her. She had never even held a baby before, never knew how tiny they were, how vulnerable and precious and totally innocent. Had her mother lived long enough to hold her? she wondered. No one had ever told her. Had her mother looked down at her as she had looked down at Sam at that moment, and sworn to love and protect her baby no matter what?

  The door of the study suddenly opened in front of her. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sebastian asked with narrowed eyes.

  Cassie clutched the scrapbooks against her chest, her mouth going dry at the hardened look in his eyes. ‘Not long…I got lost a couple of times on the way down…’

  He held her gaze for an infinitesimal moment, before indicating for her to go inside. He raked a hand through his hair in that edgy way of his. ‘I have a lot on my mind right now.’

  ‘I can come back later if you would prefer,’ she said, glancing back at the door.

  ‘No.’ He dropped his hand from where it had been to rub the back of his neck, the smile he gave her a little forced. ‘Take a seat on the sofa. Would you like coffee or tea? I suddenly realised I interrupted your breakfast.’

  ‘No, I’m fine…thank you…’ Cassie sat on the sofa and held her breath as he took the seat beside her, his thigh brushing against hers.

  ‘Show me,’ he said, his voice sounding rough.

  Cassie opened the first scrapbook, realising then how tawdry it looked compared to the gold-encrusted ones he most probably had of his childhood. She had never been able to afford anything more than these cheap books, although she had promised herself once she was off the island and had some money to spare she was going to buy some proper albums.

  ‘This is just after he was born,’ she said, the rustle of the page turning over the only sound in the room.

  Sebastian looked at the photo of his baby son lying on Cassie’s chest, his tiny body still streaked with blood and the waxy protective covering of vernix from the womb. He hadn’t cried since he was a small child but tears came to his eyes now and he had trouble seeing through them. The photograph blurred and he swallowed deeply.

  ‘And this is when he was about two weeks old.’ Cassie had turned another page, thankfully without looking up at him.

  He looked at the prison-issue blanket covering his son and felt another blade of guilt slice him. Photo after photo had the same d
evastating effect on him. Pictures of Sam playing within the barbed-wire-enclosed prison, inmates all around, some of them looking less desirable than others.

  Cassie reached for another scrapbook and showed him some clippings of Sam’s hair and even the minuscule crescents of his fingernails. Sebastian reached out and touched the hair with his fingers; the dark curls could have been his when he was the same age. Emotion clogged his throat and he had to swallow again to clear it.

  ‘I don’t have many photos of when he was four,’ Cassie said, still looking at the open book resting on Sebastian’s thighs.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked.

  She looked at him then. ‘Because that was the year he was taken away from me,’ she said with an embittered set to her mouth. ‘The foster parents didn’t think to take photographs for me. Why would they? I was just a prisoner.’

  Sebastian began to understand then some of what she had gone through. He had missed out on five years of Sam’s life but she, too, had missed out. She had lost six years of her young life, and a whole year of her son’s with not even a photograph to comfort her. No wonder Sam was as shy as he was and so frightened of being separated from his mother. In each of the photos up until he turned three Sam was a happy, smiling little baby and toddler. It was only when Cassie showed him the remaining photos, including the ones up to date, that Sebastian could see what that year without his mother had done to Sam.

  ‘Can I keep these for a few days?’ he asked after a moment. ‘I want to get some copies made.’

  Cassie wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see a hint of moisture in the darkness of his gaze. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘But please be careful with them. I’ve already lost a photo or two where the glue has come unstuck.’

  ‘I will make sure they are handled with the utmost care,’ he promised. ‘Thank you for showing them to me. I cannot tell you what it has meant to me.’

  Cassie compressed her lips, struggling to contain her own emotions. She got to her feet and, wrapping her arms around her body, faced him. ‘I wanted to give him so much more,’ she said. ‘He deserved so much more. I’m so worried he will never get over it…you know, being taken away from me. That year he went to the foster home…’ She released one of her hands to brush at her eyes and continued raggedly, ‘I couldn’t protect him. What if someone had hurt him? What if someone treated him roughly like my father did to me? I wasn’t there for him, Sebastian. I wasn’t there to protect him like no one was there to protect me…’

  ‘Your father…’ he swallowed over the word as he got to his feet ‘…abused you?’

  Cassie couldn’t speak. Tears were suddenly blocking her throat, burning, aching tears that were spilling from her eyes and rolling down her face.

  Sebastian reached for her, enfolding her in his arms, stroking the back of her head, murmuring soothing, meaningless words to her as the storm of her emotions passed through her. He felt every quake of her body; every broken sob tore at him until his own eyes felt moist and his chest too tight to breathe.

  ‘I’m sorry…’

  She tried to push away from him but, although he allowed her some room, he didn’t release her. He held her hands in his, his thumbs stroking over her fingers. ‘Tell me everything, Cassie,’ he said softly. ‘You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t allow them to.’

  She looked up at him, her chin trembling so like Sam’s he felt another deep wave of emotion swamp him. He had missed out on so much but he was starting to realise most of the blame for that was his. He’d fallen into the same trap as everyone else, judging her without really knowing her. All the clues were there now that he had the benefit of hindsight. Each letter to the unsolvable crossword now in place, and his gut churned at what those letters spelt.

  ‘He broke my arm.’ The words tumbled out and once they had started Cassie couldn’t seem to stop. ‘He broke my arm when I was four years old. On the way to the hospital he told me if I said a word to anyone about how it had happened he would do much worse. He told me to tell everyone I had fallen off my bed. I was so frightened. It wasn’t the first time he had hit me, far from it. He was always hitting me, but after that he toned it down a bit. It wouldn’t do to have anyone pointing their finger at him, now, would it? He was a high-profile man who made a great show of how much he loved his difficult daughter.’

  Sebastian kept on stroking her cold, lifeless hands. ‘Oh, Cassie,’ was all he could manage to say. ‘Oh, my poor, Caz.’

  She continued speaking in the same flat, emotionless tone. ‘By the time I was a teenager I deliberately set out to shame him. I couldn’t tell anyone about the physical abuse but I could still get at him that way, or so I thought. I guess I didn’t stop to think about the consequences for my own life…’

  ‘You were a child, for God’s sake,’ Sebastian said. ‘A terrified child with no one you could turn to.’

  ‘The night we broke up…’ She paused, her face a picture of pain at the memory. ‘I felt I had no choice. My father had so many times renewed his warning…I thought about going to the police, but he was best friends with the commissioner. He had powerful friends everywhere. I had nothing to fall back on but an already damaged reputation.’

  Sebastian’s frown deepened. ‘So you made up a parcel of lies about sleeping around to put me off the scent?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m sorry…It must have hurt you but I couldn’t think of what else to do. I couldn’t see any future in our relationship. I was going to leave as soon as I turned eighteen in any case. My father saw my packed bags and…and that was it.’

  ‘He attacked you?’ His words were more of a statement than a question.

  ‘Yes…I thought he was going to…to…’ She screwed up her face as if she couldn’t bear to say the word out loud.

  Sebastian felt another sickening wave of nausea roll through him as he suddenly realised what word she was avoiding. He put his arms back around her, holding her close, trying to comfort a pain that could not be comforted. ‘I’m so sorry.’ The words seemed so inadequate and yet he kept saying them. ‘I’m so very sorry. I wish I had been able to protect you. I wish I had known. I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me.’

  He put her from him again, looking down at her reddened eyes. ‘Did you ever consider telling someone during the trial about what you had suffered?’ he asked. ‘You could have shown them the X-rays from when you were a child. Surely someone would have listened.’

  She gave him the bleakest of looks. ‘I considered it a few times but I could see the disgust in everyone’s eyes. I was a tramp, a rebellious little slut who had brought shame and disgrace on her poor, hard-working father. It was all so daunting.’ She sighed and carried on sadly, ‘When I found out I was pregnant I realised why I hadn’t put up much of a fight. I was so tired and sick and so overwhelmed with it all I just sat there like an automaton without offering a word in my own defence.’

  Sebastian gripped her hands. ‘I will speak to my legal counsel,’ he said. ‘I’ll have your name cleared. I will do everything within my power to see proper justice is served.’

  ‘No,’ she said, pulling out of his hold. ‘I don’t want to go through it all again. I just want to leave Aristo.’

  Three beats of silence passed.

  ‘You will not be leaving.’

  Her eyes flared and a pulse began to beat at her throat. ‘What do you mean I won’t be leaving?’ she asked.

  ‘I will not allow you to take my son away,’ he said. ‘I have only just met him. I need time to get to know him before I announce to the press my intentions where he is concerned.’

  Cassie tried to keep her panic contained but it bubbled up inside her. She could see his point of view, but she couldn’t allow herself to be imprisoned again, even in such a gilded cage as the Karedes private villa. ‘I will not allow you to keep me under house arrest,’ she said, glaring at him. ‘I want to be able to come and go as I see fit.’

  ‘I am afraid that is impossible,’
he said with an intransigent set to his features. ‘I have to take every precaution that this situation is dealt with in the utmost secrecy.’

  ‘It’s all about you and your precious throne, isn’t it?’ she threw at him.

  ‘It has nothing to do with the throne,’ he ground out in frustration. ‘I want to spend time with Sam without the paparazzi shoving cameras in his face. He’s shy and—’

  ‘So that’s my fault, is it?’ she asked. ‘It’s all because of the terrible mother he has—that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

  He shook his head at her, his eyes going upwards as if for patience from some higher source. ‘I wasn’t implying anything of the sort,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘When the time is right I will have no hesitation in announcing to the people of Aristo you are the mother of my child.’

  She gave him a churlish look. ‘Yeah, well, I bet you won’t do it until you have the paternity test results in your hands.’

  He let out his breath in a whistling stream, a signal Cassie knew from past experience, he was nearing the end of his tether. ‘What would you do if the tables were turned? Answer me, Cassie. What would you do?’

  Cassie felt herself backing down. ‘I—I would do the same…’ she said, so low it was barely audible.

  ‘Say it louder.’

  She lifted her chin. ‘You heard.’

  ‘Say it louder,’ he commanded again.

  Cassie tightened her hands into fists, her anger rising up like lava, her voice rising along with it. ‘I said I would do the same. I said I would do the same. I SAID I WOULD DO THE SAME.’

  Sebastian captured her flailing hands before they could connect with his face as he supposed she intended. ‘Stop it, Cassie. It’s over…shhh, agape mou, it’s over. I’m not fighting with you. I pushed you too far. I’m sorry, OK?’

  She choked back a little sob. ‘Don’t you dare be nice to me…I can cope with you when you’re not nice…’

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘That is the problem, isn’t it? You are not used to people treating you with respect and consideration so you put up a prickly don’t-mess-with-me front.’