“Maybe it’s better to go into it alone,” I say softly. “Becoming King without a Queen means you can’t get hurt.”
“I used to think that,” Theo says, meeting my eye. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
The lump in my throat turns into a massive boulder. It’s hard to swallow, let alone speak. Our hands are still interlaced, and I’m worried that Theo can feel the violence of my heart banging against my ribcage.
“I don’t know if I can do it alone, Cara.” His voice is soft, and his eyes are full of pain. “My father will step down soon. He has to. Once that happens, who can I trust?”
“Your brothers,” I answer.
Theo snorts, shaking his head. “Luca might never come back. Dante is content to deal with palace security and stare at computers all day. Beckett still thinks he doesn’t belong here. I’m alone, Cara.”
“You’re not.” You have me.
The words stay stuck in my throat. The look on Theo’s face pierces through my heart as pain shatters across my chest.
I don’t ever want to see him in pain. Reaching over to stroke his jaw, I press my lips to his.
“You’ll be a great king, Theo.”
He gives me a tight smile. “Maybe.”
I want to tell him everything in my heart. Everything that has changed over the past week, and everything he’s made me realize.
I don’t need to leave to feel free. I don’t need an adventure. I don’t need independence.
Slowly, day by day, hour by hour, Theo is making me realize that the only thing I need is love.
We make love that night. It’s different from all the other times, slower and more tender. Theo stares into my eyes, and it feels like there are a million things he wants to say.
There are a million things I want to say. Like the fact that I don’t want to leave at all. Going to singing school or on some solo international adventure doesn’t seem so important anymore. The thought of leaving terrifies me, but not because I’m scared of the big bad world.
Because I’m scared of losing Theo.
For the first time in a long, long time, I feel like somebody sees me. Theo sees the real me. He took time out of his busy royal schedule to introduce me to one of our kingdom’s best musicians. He knows how important music is to me, and he wanted to show me he cared.
He took me out on the sailboat when he knew I had suffered from Luca’s silence.
He understood how much I wanted to leave, and instead of trying to convince me to stay, he took me on this trip to protect me from the pressure that might stop me from going.
No one else treats me like that. No one else sees me like a fully formed human being with thoughts and opinions and feelings. No one else respects me enough to really, truly see me.
My mother thinks of me as an investment. My father still acts like I’m four years old and learning to swim with him. My sisters are busy with their own lives and husbands, and they’re content to live the life that was set out for them.
As I lie in bed beside the future King of Argyle, I realize that Theo is the only person that has taken the time to get to know me—and he likes me for me. Maybe even more than ‘like.’ I’ve seen a different side of Theo. A different side of myself.
The energy changed on that sailboat, and it’s grown into something bigger.
Maybe the great tragedy of my life wasn’t losing Luca, after all. It’s that I’m falling for Theo, even though I have no right to be with him at all.
TWO WEEKS LATER, when we land back at the royal pier on Argyle’s main island, a feeling of dread curls in the pit of my stomach. As soon as I step off the sea plane, nausea rises up in my throat. It’s the same nausea that has started plaguing my days and nights. I thought I was just apprehensive of this trip coming to an end, but now I’m not so sure.
Stumbling to the edge of the pier, I throw up into the crystalline blue waters.
Theo yelps, rushing over to help me. His broad, warm hand stays on my back as I spit the last of my bile into the water, sucking in a deep breath. My fingers cling to the wooden pier and I squeeze my eyes shut. The nausea subsides and I’m able to inhale again.
I spit the last of my bitter bile into the water, frowning.
That was weird.
“Cara, are you okay?” Theo is still beside me. I turn to see concern written all over his features. Worry is etched into his face like a mask. He helps me to my feet, staring into my eyes. “I’ll call the doctor. Come back to the palace with me.”
“I’m fine,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s probably just seasickness.”
“You grew up on the sea, Cara. You’ve been flying in that plane almost every day for the past three weeks. You’ve never been seasick as long as I’ve known you. Even when we were being tossed around the ocean on that sailboat for the solstice, you never even got nauseous.”
“It’s nothing.” I try to shrug Theo off, but he won’t let go.
“Come back to the palace.” His lips flatten—and there it is. That commanding voice that I’m powerless to resist.
Slumping my shoulders, I nod. “Fine.”
“Good.”
Theo hooks his uninjured arm around my back, his other hand still propped up in a sling.
“I guess the doctor can have a look at your shoulder at the same time.” I accept a bottle of water from one of the royal staff with a grateful nod, swishing it around my mouth and spitting it out onto the sand.
How regal of me.
One thing’s for sure—I’m definitely not a future Queen. Theo doesn’t seem to notice, though. He just stays by my side as we walk down the white, pebbled path toward the palace.
My gut still churns, and an awful taste clings to the back of my throat. Worry snakes its way around the base of my skull. There’s one explanation for my nausea that doesn’t involve seasickness, but I can’t bring myself to think of it right now.
As soon as the word pregnancy pops up in my mind, I chase it away. It’s too complicated. Too messy. Too permanent.
We walk to the small outbuilding that acts as a medical clinic for the royal family.
Perks of being royalty: on-site doctor visits.
The doctor and nurses take blood and urine samples and runs a few basic tests. I get asked a dozen questions, and by the end of the examination I’m more exhausted than when I started.
I only threw up once. Sure, I’ve been near the ocean since I was a little girl and basically grew up swimming and running around sailboats, but a bit of seasickness shouldn’t warrant this much fuss.
As the doctor examines Theo’s shoulder, a nurse pokes her head back into the room.
She clears her throat. “Doctor, could I have a word?”
The doctor grunts, and then helps Theo back into his sling. “Looks good for now, but we’ll need at least two more weeks in that sling. You were lucky that nothing tore badly. Should be a quick recovery. Six weeks should do it, and then we can start physical therapy.”
The man nods at us, then follows the nurse out the door. I lean back in my chair, sinking into soft cushions as exhaustion settles into my bones.
“I’m fine, Theo. Really. I should just go home.”
“So why do you look pale? People don’t just puke for no reason, Cara.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just need some sleep.”
A soft knock on the door tells us the doctor is back. Theo calls him in, and the old man shuffles back through the door with his chin tucked against his chest.
He clears his throat before running his fingers through his hair. The doctor finally raises his eyes to mine, and my stomach drops.
I know what he’s going to say before he even speaks a word. Call it female intuition. Call it a premonition. Call it whatever you want.
Before the doctor says a word, I already know I’m pregnant.
17
THEO
WHEN THE DOCTOR asks to speak to Cara alone, my heart drops.
Something’s wrong. Very wrong.<
br />
Cara’s face is white as a sheet, and I can sense the tension rippling off her in waves. She meets my eyes, dipping her chin down a fraction of an inch to let me know it’s okay.
I clear my throat, wanting to say something. What can I say, though?
Both the doctor and Cara are staring at me, waiting for me to step out of the room. I hover near the door, trying not to eavesdrop but still listening to the muffled sounds of voices on the other side.
The sound of footsteps makes me lift my head. My brother Beckett walks toward me, his trademarked scowl permanently carved into his face.
“Hey, brother,” he says. “Or should I say Your Majesty? Not yet, eh? When’s the old man stepping down?”
I let out a sigh, reaching out to shake Beckett’s hand. He’s always had a chip on his shoulder, and I don’t understand why. He may be a half-brother, technically—the love-child of my mother and my father’s brother—but we’ve always treated him as family. Even after my mother left with my uncle, there was no question that Beckett should be here with us. He’s my brother.
Yet, I’ve always gotten the sense that deep-seated jealousy is embedded in his heart.
“How was your trip?” I ask, ignoring my brother’s question.
Beckett shrugs. “It was fine. Father told me I’d find you here. How’s your shoulder?”
“Doctor thinks I’ll be able to take the sling off in two weeks.”
Beckett grunts. A wicked grin twists his lips. “I’d pay good money to have Cara Shoal dislocate my shoulder,” he guffaws, and I tense.
I don’t like hearing him speak about Cara like that. Heat flows into my chest. Anger flares inside me, flushing my face and making my ears burn. Protective, animalistic instinct wakes up inside me, lifting its ugly head and staring at Beckett.
He notices.
“What?” He frowns, his lips twisting into an ugly grin. “You don’t care about her, do you?”
“She’s been a friend of the family for years.” Somehow, it feels wrong to deny my feelings, even if I’m just talking to my brother.
Beckett arches an eyebrow, smirking. An uncomfortable feeling gurgles in my stomach.
I love my brother. I do. But sometimes, there’s something about Beckett that doesn’t sit well with me. He always seems like he’s holding back. Like he’s not telling the whole truth.
When his eyes meet mine, Beckett arches an eyebrow. It’s almost like a challenge, daring me to say something.
I ignore it.
Just then, the door opens and the doctor steps through. He bows to me and my brother. “I’d like to follow up with you in three days, Your Highness. We can keep an eye on that shoulder and make sure we get you out of the sling as soon as possible. Excuse me.”
With another bow, he walks down the hallway. The door to his examination room opens again, and Cara appears in the doorway.
My stomach bottoms out, and I’m falling through space. How is it possible to get that feeling every time I see her? Like the rug is pulled out from under me anytime she comes into view.
But the ground comes rushing back up toward me when Beckett opens his mouth to speak.
“Cara,” he says, taking a step toward her. His voice is low, and his movements predatory.
It takes all my self-control to stop myself from launching at him. I’d tackle him to the ground and pin him there to stop him touching Cara, injured shoulder or not.
But I hold back.
What’s going on with me?
Beckett doesn’t want to hurt Cara, and I have no right to feel this protective over her. As real as the past three weeks have felt, we’re not together. Not really. Soon, she’ll be gone.
Her eyes flick to me, full of pain and fear.
I gulp. “Is everything okay? What did the doctor say?”
“Everything’s fine. Just need to drink water.” Her voice is tight, and I can tell she’s not telling me everything.
Beckett glances between Cara and me, his brows drawing together. “Why are you here, Cara?”
“I threw up when I got off the plane.”
“The plane?” he repeats.
Cara glances at me, questioning.
I clear my throat. “Cara was with me on the tour of the Kingdom.” Beckett’s head whips toward me, and I clear my throat. “As a guest,” I add.
“A guest.” Beckett’s eyes darken. It seems the only thing he’s capable of doing is repeating everything we say.
“Yes, Beckett, a guest. Do you have a problem with that?” My nerves are frayed. I’m worried about Cara. I’m worried about becoming King. I’m worried about everything that will happen once Cara leaves the palace gates, and if I’ll ever see her again once she does.
I don’t have the energy to deal with my little brother and the mammoth-sized chip on his shoulder.
“I’ll take you home,” I say to Cara, extending my hand toward her. She keeps one arm wrapped around her stomach, side-stepping around Beckett. When her other hand slips into mine, I swear I see Beckett vibrating with anger.
Why would he care?
I shake my head, jerking my chin at my brother. “Check in with Dante. He has some updated security protocols for us to go through. You should go and see Father, as well.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” he says, giving me a low, insolent bow.
I ignore him. Instead, I put my arm around Cara’s shoulders and lead her out of the doctor’s pavilion. Once we step out into the sunshine, Cara takes a deep breath. It rattles on the way in, and when she exhales, her shoulders drop.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, frowning. My arm stays slung across her shoulders as I hold her close. The royal vehicle is waiting for us, with a new driver standing next to the open door.
“I’m fine. Just need to go home and get some sleep.”
I nod. A lump forms in my throat, and I’m not quite sure how to respond.
Her home should be here. She should be coming to my bed to rest. Cara’s place is beside me—why doesn’t she see that?
When we reach the car, Cara puts her hand on the open door. She turns to me, giving me a pinched smile. “You don’t need to come with me. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do at the castle, what with the coronation to plan and all. I’m sure Dante will want to talk to you, too. Hopefully he has some good news for you.”
My heart sinks as my stomach twists. It feels like a weight is crushing my chest, making it hard for me to take a full breath. This is goodbye. I know it is, and I knew it was coming. As soon as the sea plane landed back at the main island pier, I knew that Cara would be slipping away like sand through my fingers.
I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.
I clear my throat. “When will you leave on your trip?”
“I don’t know. As soon as I feel better, I guess.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to be going soon.”
Cara sucks in a breath and shrugs. “I don’t know what I want anymore.” Her eyes flick up to mine and her lips drop open, but then she glances at the driver, who’s waiting a few feet away from us. Instead of saying anything, she takes a step toward me and lays a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you for a wonderful three weeks, Theo. You’ve given me so much, and I’m not sure I can ever repay you.”
“You don’t need to repay me. Having you with me made the whole tour better.”
Why is it so hard to speak? It’s like a hand is wrapped around my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs. I can hardly breathe, let alone make words.
“Let me know what Dante says. I’ll be in Argyle for a little while longer, and I won’t leave until you tell me you don’t need me anymore.”
Yep, this is definitely goodbye. My chest feels hollow as I struggle to keep my composure. Cara gives me one last sad smile and ducks her head into the car. I close the door behind her and nod to the driver.
Then, I step back and watch Cara Shoal drive away from me. The car rolls down the long driveway and through th
e tall palace gates, and my heart sinks down, down, down.
I knew our relationship was temporary. I knew I had no right to be with her, or to stand in the way of her plans and dreams. I knew that this was going to come to an end.
I didn’t know it would hurt this much to watch her leave.
18
CARA
WHEN I GET BACK to my parents’ house after being away for just three weeks, I feel like a completely different person. Before I left, I was convinced that I’d be gone by now. I’d be in Los Angeles or New York or Farcliff. Either that, or stay and be miserable in the life that’s been built for me.
Now, I’m not so sure.
I’m carrying Prince Theo’s baby. That changes everything.
Leaving seems silly. Staying seems crazy.
How am I supposed to tell Theo? This whole relationship was meant to be temporary. It was a way for me to stay protected from family pressure while he sorted his problems out. A way for me to leave Argyle on a good note. It was a final goodbye to the islands of my youth.
But leaving with a newborn baby on the way? Exploring a new country with an infant in tow?
Insanity.
The royal chauffeur opens the car door for me, and I stare up at my parents’ sprawling home. It’s the only place I’ve ever lived. The only home I’ve ever had. I’ve memorized every crack and crevice in these walls.
After spending three weeks with Theo, I’m realizing that there’s a lot to Argyle that I haven’t seen. I want to visit the rest of the world, of course, but my need for adventure was quenched with our tour through the islands.
Maybe Theo himself helped cure my itchy feet.
Thanking the driver, I make my way up the steps toward my childhood home. I push the front door open, listening for noise in the house. It’s quiet, except for the distant sounds of the cooks in the kitchen. I slip through the open door, closing it silently behind me.
I need some time to myself to untangle my chaotic thoughts.
Being with Theo feels good…but is that enough? Is it enough to feel good with someone for a couple of weeks to then commit to a lifetime with them?
Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 6) Page 11