Carrying the King's Pride

by Jennifer Hayward

  “All right,” she said to Nik. “I’ll go. We talk. And then you fly me back.”

  He nodded. “Efharisto.” Thank you.

  It occurred to her as they boarded the plane at a small private airfield outside of the city that she was putting herself on Nik’s turf, where he yielded complete power. The power of a king. Perhaps not the wisest of decisions, she acknowledged as the tiny jet took off and left the lights of Manhattan behind. But she couldn’t add any more stress to his life. Not now.

  She waited until she’d endured what was always a white-knuckle affair for her in the takeoff before curling up in one of the chairs in the seating area of the luxurious jet. Then she attacked the elephant in the room. Or aircraft, as it would be...

  “I know this has huge ramifications for you, Nik, but it does for me, as well. How do we deal with the distances? How am I going to juggle a baby and the shop?”

  He leveled his gaze on her. “You aren’t. You’re the future Queen of Akathinia, Sofía. Queens don’t work.”

  She stared at him. Queen? That would entail her being married to him... “You can’t be serious.”

  His mouth flattened, the determination on his face making her heart pound. “Unless this baby turns out to be someone else’s, which I highly doubt, then yes, I am entirely serious.”

  She didn’t like the edge to his voice or the look on his face. “Of course it’s yours. How can you even ask that?”

  He looked at her as if she was naive to be asking the question. “How far along are you?”

  “Eight weeks.”

  “A blood test will confirm it, then.” He lifted a brow. “Funny how we were obsessively careful not to allow a pregnancy to happen and yet, magically, it happened on that last night when you asked me not to wear a condom.”

  She stared at him. “Tell me you are not suggesting I manufactured this pregnancy.”

  He shrugged, his face as hard as she’d ever seen it. “It wouldn’t be the first time in history it’s happened.”

  The blood drained from her face. She yanked off her seat belt and launched herself at him, her palm arcing through the air toward his cheek. He caught her hand before it got anywhere near his face and yanked it down to her side, pulling her onto his lap.

  “Bastard,” she hissed at him. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to say that. To me, Nik. Me of all people. I was perfectly fine with the rules. I ended it.”

  “After you told me how you wanted to end it.” His eyes scoured her face. “Were you using a little reverse psychology on me, Sofía? Being the one to end it first so I’d realize my mistake? Then along comes a baby?”

  “You are insane,” she gritted out, unable to free her hands to claw his eyes out. “Have you lost your mind over the past few weeks, Nik, because clearly you know me well enough to know I would never do that.”

  His mouth flattened. “I thought I knew you. But I also know how you were acting that night. I know the signs. You were getting too attached. Women can do uncharacteristic things when they want to hang on to a relationship.”

  Her head felt as if it was going to explode. “I ended it.”

  “You knew I was going to.”

  He was crazy. She tugged hard on her arm but he held her tight. “I am not marrying you.”

  He gave her a weary look. “We will. It’s the only solution.”

  “No, it isn’t. I don’t want to get married. I live in New York. I have a business there. I’m not leaving it.”

  “What we both want doesn’t figure into this. The only thing that matters is that you are carrying the royal heir. End of story.”

  Her blood ran cold. “There are other ways to make this work.”

  “I’m afraid there aren’t.” His beautiful mouth tipped up on one side. “Think of it this way. There is now no limit to how many times we can have each other. In fact, the more the better. A spare to the throne is clearly ideal. We can work out the rest of that explosive chemistry of ours.”

  His hard thighs burned into her bottom. The memory of what they’d done in exactly this position in the back of the Bentley sent a heated flush to every inch of her skin. She pushed a hand against his chest. “You have lost your mind.”

  A wry smile curved his mouth. “Surprisingly, I think I’ve kept it over the past few weeks. And believe me, Sofía, it was no mean feat.”

  She stopped fighting. Her breath jammed in her lungs as her brain caught up with what was happening. “You set this up. You told me we were going to talk at home so I’d get in the car and you could get me on this plane and my will would be taken away from me.”

  “So smart,” he mocked, lifting a hand in an indolent gesture. “And so right.”

  She called him the filthiest name she could think of.

  His smile grew. “I’m a king, Sofía. I do what I have to do.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SOFÍA PACED THE palace library, oblivious to the stunning, chandelier-accented glory of the gold-and-mahogany-hued room. She wished she knew where among the exquisite first editions and precious bound volumes she could find a thesaurus. It might help her to put a label on her current set of emotions toward Nik, because fury seemed too little a word.

  Anger, rage, wrath—they couldn’t come close to encompassing the tempestuous feelings enveloping her in waves. How dare Nik trick her into coming here. How dare he assume she would give up her life in New York and marry him, just because she was having his child. Yes, she was carrying the heir to the Akathinian throne, but she wasn’t Akathinian. She had a business in Manhattan to run. A business that meant everything to her.

  Her insides roiled, sending the heat in her cheeks even higher. And then there was the utterly inconceivable accusation he’d thrown at her. That she’d planned the pregnancy. That she’d wanted to trick him into marriage. She knew Nik was cynical in the extreme, hardened from his life in the spotlight and those who would have used him had he allowed it, but to accuse her of all people of that? It was ludicrous.

  Her fury and anxiety at being so helpless, so far from home, so out of control of this situation had her breath coming fast and furious. Throwing herself into one of the leather chairs near the windows, she forced herself to take deep breaths, to calm down as she watched the million-dollar yachts bobbing in the harbor.

  She might not be able to change the fact that she was here, but she could tell Nik how unreasonable he was being when he returned from his meeting with the Agieros, where he was attempting to avoid a diplomatic crisis as he broke off his engagement, given the results of the blood test had proved conclusively the child she carried was his. That giving up her business, uprooting her life and moving here to a little island in the middle of the Mediterranean to become his queen was a crazy, untenable idea.

  They would talk, she could get out of here before his mother and sister returned from a charitable engagement in Athens and all would be good.

  No need to meet his family when the idea of marrying Nik was preposterous.

  * * *

  Nik’s meeting with the Agieros did not go well. In fact, it went far worse than he’d anticipated. Clearly the family could be expected to be disappointed at the loss of the opportunity to marry into the royal family and the power and prestige that came with it, but he had not been prepared for the overt antagonism Maurizio Agiero, the head of the family, had displayed upon hearing the news Nik would wed an American and not the Countess of Agiero.

  He suspected it was Maurizio’s deep political ambitions that lay behind the animosity. Yes, the media was abuzz with speculation surrounding an announcement of an engagement, but Vittoria had seemed to take it in her stride, cool as usual, when he’d taken her aside to personally apologize, only raising an eyebrow when he’d referred to what was an “unexpected” turn of events.

  Pulling his car t
o a halt in front of the white Maltese stone Akathinian royal palace that stood set back from the harbor on a rolling hill that overlooked the Ionian Sea, he handed the keys to a palace staffer, then took the steps of the wide, sweeping stairwell two by two. The Agiero alliance eliminated, there was only one other partnership that would give his family the power it needed to fund a war, and it involved his arch nemesis, Akathinian billionaire Aristos Nicolades.

  His father would immediately reject the idea of an alliance with Aristos because of what the real estate developer would undoubtedly demand—a casino license for the island—but there was no alternative now. Akathinia had to protect itself.

  He expected to have a fight on his hands. Fortunately for both his father’s heart and Nik’s exhausted body, the former king had retired early. Which meant he could attack his other pressing issue: Sofía.

  He headed toward his private wing. Sofía was waiting for him in his salon, staring out the window that overlooked the gardens, the tense set of her body warning him he had a battle on his hands. She whirled around, antagonism written across her beautiful face. “You fly me here to talk and then you leave me alone all day while you go to a meeting? How is that solving our problem?”

  He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on a chair. “I apologize. My meeting took longer than I thought.”

  She glared at him. “I am not marrying you, Nik. You are off having all these conversations, deciding things, when you have no idea what I’m going to say.”

  He worked his fingers into the knot of his tie and pulled it loose. “I know exactly what you’re going to say. What you just did.”

  She blinked. “So you understand we need to negotiate how this is going to work?”

  “Negotiate isn’t the right term.” He pulled the tie off and tossed it on top of his jacket. “Come to terms with our situation is more accurate.”

  “I don’t have a situation. You do.”

  He started undoing the buttons of his shirt. “You are carrying the heir to the throne. You are on Akathinian soil. You most certainly do have a problem to resolve.”

  She stuck her hands on her hips. “You tricked me into coming here. This is a democratic nation. You can’t hold me here against my will.”

  “A democratic nation in which I retain ultimate authority.” He stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. “And I seem to remember you getting on that plane of your own free will.”

  “Because you played on my sympathies.” Her eyes narrowed as he undid the button of his pants. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a shower so we can eat.” He stripped the pants off, dragging his boxers over his hips along with them. Her gaze dropped to that part of him she loved so much. “Unless you’d like to join me in the shower first?”

  She shifted her attention back to his face. “No, thank you.”

  “Later then.” He turned his back on her and headed for the shower. “Pour me a drink, will you? I’m tired and I’m in a filthy mood.”

  * * *

  Later? Sofía fumed. How about never again? She threw a mental dagger at Nik’s beautiful backside as he walked into the bathroom. He could not force her into a marriage she didn’t want. She was going to say her piece and leave.

  His wet hair slicked back from his face, Nik joined her on the terrace a few minutes later. In jeans and a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves he didn’t do much for her equilibrium. He’d always been spectacular in a suit, but in casual clothes, he was all muscular, earthy male. Devastating.

  She lifted her chin. “Why are we not having dinner with your family?”

  He took a sip of the drink he’d poured himself and rested his elbows on the railing.

  “I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

  Her stomach tightened. “I’m sure they must be overjoyed to have me here. Your pregnant American lover who destroyed your alliance.”

  His mouth thinned. “I think we should focus on the point at hand.”

  “I’m not marrying you, Nik. There has to be some other way to make this work. Why can’t the baby stay with me in New York? We’ll do regular visits back and forth, and when he or she is older, they can choose whether they want to live in New York or Akathinia.”

  He gave her a scathing look. “The heir to the Akathinian throne is not being raised in Manhattan. This child is a symbol of the future of the monarchy, one the people desperately need right now. Our child will grow up here. Learn the customs and intricacies of the country they will one day rule.”

  “But I don’t want to live here,” she argued. “I have equal say in this decision, and I live in New York.”

  “Don’t be naive.” His razor-sharp tone sliced over her skin like a whip. “We aren’t a stockbroker and an office assistant negotiating a custody settlement. I am the King of Akathinia. And if you think I’m letting you leave this country while you’re carrying my heir, you’re clearly deluded. Have the baby, then leave. It’s your choice. But the child remains here.”

  The blood drained from her face, a buzzing sound filling her head. “You aren’t suggesting what I think you are.”

  His expression was like the Hudson on a glacially cold day. “I’ve told you my preference. A child needs its mother. We are good together, Sofía. We were good together. We can make this work.”

  Her heart started to race, a frozen feeling descending over her. He would take her child away from her if she didn’t agree to marry him. She knew that look. Knew he was dead serious.

  She pulled in a breath, but the sultry, steamy air felt too thick, too heavy to deliver the oxygen she needed. Her head whirled, the strain of the past few weeks, of wondering what she was going to do, the press invading her every quiet moment, Nik’s threats, descending over her like a dark cloud. Inescapable. Unnavigable.

  She set a palm to the railing and pulled in another breath, but it was as if the air was being sucked out of her. A layer of perspiration blanketed her brow as the dusky night spun around her. She distantly registered she was going to pass out a second before Nik’s arms closed around her, catching her before she could.

  He sat her down in a chair and put her head between her knees. Knelt beside her, his hand on her back, commanding her to breathe. Minutes passed before the dizziness decided which way it was going to go. Finally, her gasping pulls of air slowed to rougher, longer breaths and her head began to clear.

  Nik sat her up in the chair, retrieved some water from the dinner table and pressed the glass into her hand. “A sip,” he instructed. She obeyed, hand trembling as she brought the glass to her mouth. When she’d taken a couple of swallows, she handed him back the glass. Nik set it on the table, sat down opposite her and pinned his gaze on her face.

  “What was that?”

  “Too much,” she muttered shakily. “It’s all too much.” She took another deep breath. “I hardly had any lunch. I get nauseated if I go too long without eating.”

  He shook his head. “Unless you’re an A-list Hollywood actress, that was a full-blown panic attack, Sofía.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Isn’t that what you’ve already established I am?”

  A glitter filled his eyes. “You know I have the patience of Jove. I will wait you out all night if I have to.”

  “It’s everything,” she said quietly. “Forcing me to come here, the plane ride, threatening to take my child away. It’s too much.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not forcing you to stay. I’m telling you my child will remain here. The rest is up to you.”

  “You know that’s no choice.”

  “Then stay. Marry me.”

  She gave him a frustrated look. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Then tell me. Make me understand.”

  Her gaze dropped away fro
m his. She had never told anyone about her panic attacks. Never told anyone what her father’s death had cost her. Only Katharine and even she didn’t know the depth of it. But if she was going to make Nik see reason, she had to tell him.

  She fixed her gaze on him. “My father was going on his first big business trip to London the night he died. He had worked his way up through the ranks of an investment banking firm after my parents emigrated from Chile to New York when I was two. His credentials weren’t recognized the same way there as they had been back home. He had to work his way up the ladder. He’d just gotten his first promotion before the trip. He was so excited. We were so excited.

  “I remember him telling me the night he left, before I went to bed, with this big smile on his face, ‘This is just the beginning for us, chiquita. It’s only up from here. We’ll be taking trips to all sorts of exotic places.’”

  A lump formed in her throat, tears scalding the backs of her eyes. She blinked them back, intent on getting through the story. “The phone call came at 3:00 a.m. from the airline. They told my mother my father’s plane had gone missing somewhere over the Atlantic. That they weren’t sure where it was or what had happened. My mother sat up all night waiting to hear. When she woke me up for school, I knew something was wrong. She looked like a...ghost.”

  She swallowed hard, but she couldn’t hold the tears back. They slipped down her face like silent bandits. Nik took her hand and curled his fingers around hers. “They found the first piece of the fuselage at two o’clock in the afternoon,” she continued. “My father’s body was recovered the next day.”

  “So long,” he said quietly. “That must have been torture.”

  Not the torture he must be feeling knowing he might never get his brother’s body back... Never get that closure.

  “I’m not telling you this story for your sympathy. It explains me, Nik. What I’m feeling. When you said that night in New York my father’s death must have affected me deeply, it’s hard to even describe what it did to me. I was so young. I was only eight. I didn’t really understand the concept of death. I was dependent on my mother to help me understand, but she wasn’t there.”