Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 6)

by Lilian Monroe

  Theo is painfully out of reach, locked in a study and protected by his staff. I’m out here, in the cold, with nothing but my grief and my pain to keep me warm.

  I turn around, trudging through the hallways toward the garages. Once there, I ask one of the drivers to take me to my parents’ house.

  On the way, I text my sisters, knowing that they’re busy with their own lives and they probably won’t have time for me, either. No one knows I came back. I intended to surprise my family once Theo and I had made preparations.

  The result? I’m alone.

  As usual.

  Yes, I’m wallowing. Allow me that luxury, at least.

  When I get to my parents’ house, I slip through the front door and make my way up the stairs and into my old bedroom. It’s been just over a month since I was here last, and as soon as I cross the threshold, I feel my body start to relax. I collapse onto my bed and curl up in a ball, falling asleep immediately.

  I WAKE up to the weight of a heavy palm on my shoulder. My father brushes a strand of hair off my face when I open my eyes, smiling softly at me.

  “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after seven o’clock in the evening.”

  I’ve been asleep for over three hours. I groan, pulling myself up to sit against my headboard. I rub my eyes, yawning. “I didn’t hear anyone when I came in.”

  My father frowns, staring into my eyes. “Cara, why aren’t you in New York? I thought your classes started a couple of days ago.”

  My lower lip trembles. My eyes mist.

  I won’t be able to contain the tears too long, but where do I start? How can I tell my father about everything that’s happened?

  I’d have to tell him about the baby. About how Theo and I thought we were pretending, until it all became too real. How I realized I didn’t want to be at Juilliard at all—but now that I’m gone, I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.

  In a few short weeks, my whole identity became wrapped up in being a mother. I could feel the life growing inside me. I knew that this was what I was meant to do.

  Now?

  I feel like I was kidding myself. My body rebelled against me. I failed.

  In the process, I got my heart broken and I threw away my chance to be at Juilliard. I successfully ruined every good thing that ever happened to me.

  How wonderful. Inspiring. I should write a self-help book. I’m sure my father would approve.

  My father swings his legs onto the bed and leans against the headboard beside me. We sit in silence for a few moments until he takes a deep breath.

  “My parents didn’t want me to be a swimmer.”

  I turn to look at him. I never met my grandparents, and Dad never really spoke about them much. “No?” I ask, holding back my tears.

  My father shakes his head, scoffing. “No. They wanted me to be a doctor, but I don’t know my ass from my elbow. I kept failing my biology classes because I was focusing all my time and energy at the pool. It wasn’t until I qualified for the Olympics that they stopped complaining and started acknowledging that I had talent.”

  I frown. My father has always been a swimmer. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s been a swimmer. Not just ‘a’ swimmer. The swimmer. He’s the face of swimming in Argyle. It’s his whole life. His business. His identity.

  My father lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “When I saw that letter from Juilliard, I knew I was doing the same thing to you that my parents had done to me. I was pushing you toward what I wanted you to do, not what you wanted. As soon as I saw that you’d applied to music school, I knew I had to let you go.”

  My bottom lip trembles, and I can’t speak. My throat is too tight.

  “Why are you here, Cara?” my father asks gently, nudging me with his huge shoulder. “Why aren’t you chasing your dreams?”

  I’m afraid to inhale too deeply, because it might turn into a sob. I just take a shaky, shallow breath and then shrug. “Things changed, and I realized I didn’t want to be studying there. I don’t know what I want now.”

  “Was it because it was more difficult than you anticipated?”

  “It’s because I see myself in the people around me. I couldn’t relate to anyone. I felt like there was something more important for me to do.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “You’re in love with King Theo.”

  I turn my head to stare at my father, who chuckles. He shakes his head, sighing. “How does the King feel about you?”

  Breathing is still hard. My tears try their best to break past my defenses, but I manage to hold them back for a few more seconds. “Well, I thought he loved me back, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “No? Because I am. The man loves you.”

  “How could you possibly know that, Dad?”

  “I saw it in his face when I told him you’d been accepted to a music school in New York. Pure devastation written all over his features. I almost felt sorry for him, but I thought you wanted to be up there.”

  “I did, I think. But it was for all the wrong reasons.”

  My father sighs. “What do you want now?”

  I stare at my stomach, and familiar, ugly words swirl into my head. Non-viable. Ectopic.

  My father lifts his arm and puts it around my shoulders. He leans his head against mine, squeezing me close. “If that man knows what’s good for him, he’ll be right here begging you to be with him and have all his children.”

  And there it is. The sentence that finally makes me burst into tears. Snorting sobs explode out of me as tears flow down my cheeks. Unstoppable. Like a dam bursting, letting the floodwaters gush through.

  My father freezes. “Cara? What is it? What did I say?”

  I shake my head, wheezing and sobbing and crying so hard I can’t see straight. I lean into my father’s chest, squeezing my eyes shut in the hope that it’ll stop the flow of tears pouring from my eyes. It doesn’t help. They keep coming and coming as my father holds me close, saying soft words and stroking my hair until I quiet down.

  Finally, I sniffle and stop.

  “What’s wrong, Cara?” my father says softly. “Tell me.”

  29

  THEO

  I HANG up the phone when a commotion starts outside my office door. At least two people shout, and someone manages to bang on the door.

  Then, I hear scuffling, and the sound of a very large body landing on the floor.

  My head drops. I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve just been on the phone to the staff at the Arlian villa to get it prepared for Cara and me to go. I want to give Cara some time to recover after the doctor gives her the injection, and give us some time alone, away from the public eye.

  I need to delay the wedding, which we were rushing to have before the baby started showing. Now, we have time.

  And we need to mourn. Preferably together, in private.

  I shake my head, not wanting to let my thoughts take me down that dark path. As soon as the doctor told us about the ectopic pregnancy, I’ve felt like my heart is held together with nothing more than old Scotch tape. A gust of wind could shatter it into a million pieces.

  So, I’ve been doing what I do best. I work. I take care of my responsibilities. I do what needs to be done, if only to stop my mind from spinning back to the visions of the baby that I’ll never hold in my arms.

  My eyes mist, but I’m pulled from my thoughts by another thump outside my door. Someone grunts, and a female voice yells. It’s hard to hear words through the thick, sound-proof door.

  “Don’t come out, Your Majesty,” a guard calls out through the intercom. “Stay inside. We have the suspect under control.”

  I frown, immediately getting up. When I open my office door, a mammoth of a man is pinned to the ground by three men. Just beyond, another man has his arms around Cara, holding her back.

  “Let go of her,” I command. The man drops his arms, and Cara stumbles forward.

  On the ground, the
three guards struggle as the big man bucks. He manages to free one arm, flinging one of the guards across the hallway. The guard slams into the wall with an oomph. Plaster crumbles around him.

  The other guards shout. One of them presses his knee into the man’s neck. Cara screams.

  “That’s my father!” she cries out. “Get off him!”

  In a flash, my hands are on the guards. I pull the guard off Tristan Shoal, letting him stumble to the ground behind me. The other guard gets up, taking a step back. His face is painted in shock.

  “We were only trying to help, Your Majesty. These two came barreling in, and—”

  “And what?” I ask, helping Tristan to his feet.

  Not a great entrance for my future father-in-law. He towers over me by a foot, glaring down at everyone around. He bows his head ever so slightly in my direction, his nostrils flaring as anger flows off him in waves.

  Cara goes to her father, putting a hand on his arm. “See? Didn’t I tell you this was a bad idea? Dad, come on. Let’s go home.”

  “The only bad idea is this sorry excuse of a King turning his back on you,” Tristan spits, snarling at me.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask, holding out my hands. “What do you mean, turning my back on Cara?”

  The guards have picked themselves off the ground. Three more guards come jogging around the corner, hands on their holsters. I hold up a hand, stopping them.

  “Your Majesty, we apprehended these two as they—”

  “Apprehended?” I interject. “Do you have any idea who these two are?”

  “They are intruders, Your Maj—”

  “Stop.” I hold up my hand. “Leave us.” I turn to Cara and Tristan, motioning to my office. “Please.”

  “I’d like to stay here, if it suits you, Your Majesty.” Tristan spits out my title, sneering as he says it. “I’d like a few witnesses to hear what I have to say.”

  “Dad.” Cara steps forward. She puts a hand on her father’s chest, shaking her head. “Stop it. This isn’t your fight.”

  “What fight?”

  “This piece of shit—” Tristan motions at me, and my guards tense. One of them steps forward until I stop him with a look.

  “Dad, stop. Let me deal with this.”

  “Deal with what? What is going on?” I stare at the carnage around me. A wall sconce is smashed, and one of the walls has a big dent where my guard smashed into it. My team is red-faced and panting, and Tristan looks like he wants to put a hole through me. His shirt is torn at the shoulder, with a thin stream of blood rolling down his arm.

  Tristan’s chest is still heaving, his eyes flaming. Not the kind of man I like to see angry.

  “You have a lot of nerve, asking what’s going on,” Tristan says darkly. “You leave Cara on her own after she gets news like today. You should be ashamed of yourself, Your Majesty.”

  “I didn’t leave her on her own.”

  “Dad, please.” Cara pulls him away. “Just let me deal with this.”

  “You didn’t deserve the baby.” Tristan shakes his head and then turns around. His steps echo in the hall, and his words rattle in my head. Cara turns to face me, her eyes wide.

  She gulps, motioning to the office. “Shall we?”

  I follow her inside, closing the door behind us. Cara walks to the window and stares out, wringing her hands. I stand near the door, watching her.

  “What was that about, Cara?”

  “I told him about the pregnancy.”

  “I thought we agreed—”

  “To what? Keep it secret? Let me suffer in silence, alone in your chambers? Is that all you’re worried about? How this looks for you?” Her words bite, and I don’t know what to say. She shakes her head, tears shining in her eyes. “I thought you might just be doing this out of duty. You might be afraid of the repercussions of an illegitimate child. But I didn’t think you’d turn your back on me so quickly.”

  “Turn my back on you?” I repeat, taking a step toward her. “When did I do that?”

  “I can see it in your face, Theo. You don’t want me. Maybe you never did.”

  I jab my fingers through my hair as frustration rises in my chest. My face feels hot. “Cara—”

  “The only reason you came to New York is because you thought it was what you were supposed to do. You’ve always been the kind of guy to do the right thing, Theo, but this is different. I’m not just some responsibility that comes with being King. I’m not some task that you can put on your to-do list and tick it off at the end of the day. I don’t want you to be responsible right now. I want you to show me that you care about me.”

  Cara’s chest heaves. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes shine.

  “Cara, is that what you think of me?”

  “Why did you walk out of the room after we got the news? Why didn’t you hold me, or kiss me? Not even once? I’ve been up there on my own for hours, Theo. So, yeah. I went to my father. I told him everything that happened. He was the only person who actually gave a fuck.”

  She spits the last word out before turning away from me. My heart hammers as I struggle to take a deep breath.

  How can she think those things about me? How can she believe that I don’t care?

  “Cara, I didn’t leave the room because I don’t care about you.”

  “The first thing you said was that you wanted to delay the wedding.” She takes a shaky breath. “If you don’t want to do this, just tell me now. Don’t lie. Don’t drag it out.”

  I let out a long breath as I squeeze my eyes shut. Then, I take a step toward Cara, wanting to reach out and touch her but being afraid of what she’ll do.

  “I want you, Cara,” I say softly. Her face angles toward me, but she won’t meet my eye. I take a deep breath. “I want to marry you. That’s the only thing that matters to me right now. I love you, Cara.”

  Her gaze lifts to mine as her bottom lip trembles. “Why were you so worried about delaying the wedding?”

  I let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I should have explained. I just wanted to give you time to recover and time for us grieve properly before having to smile for an army of cameras.”

  I take another step closer to her, reaching for her hand. She feels cold, and I want to do nothing more than wrap my arms around her and hold her tight—but she’s too fragile. She’s like a wild animal, staring at me like she doesn’t know if she wants to bolt away or rip my head off.

  “Cara, I’d marry you right now if I could. You’re the only thing that makes sense in the world. I can’t imagine being King without you at my side. You’re my Queen. Always.”

  Her lip trembles as a tear spills onto her cheek. I reach up to her face, brushing it away. Cara angles her face toward my hand, sighing.

  “I thought you were only marrying me out of duty.”

  I chuckle bitterly, shaking my head. “No. I’m marrying you because I love you and I can’t live without you. I’m delaying the wedding because I need to be with you. Only you. I’m sorry I walked out. I should have explained.”

  Cara’s eyes suddenly snap open, and she shoves my shoulder back. “You need to talk to me, Theo. I need you to be there for me, and not just focus on doing the responsible thing. We can delay the wedding tomorrow. Right now…”—her voice is nothing more than a whisper—“I need you.”

  When Cara slides a hand over her stomach, my heart aches.

  She’s right. Of course she’s right. I pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I’ve been so focused on organizing details that need to be taken care of, that I haven’t focused on the most important thing. Cara. Grief. Being there for each other.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. I inhale her scent, feeling the wind pick up that will surely break my heart.

  Then, we both break down. Tears come, and don’t stop coming. All the emotion that I’ve been holding back comes rushing to the forefront. We cry on each other’s shoulders, mourning the child that we’ll never have.

&n
bsp; The Scotch tape flutters away, and I finally allow myself to break. Pain shatters across my chest, radiating through to my toes. Tears flow, and flow, and flow. Grief hits me like a sledgehammer, knocking me sideways.

  The only thing that keeps me upright is Cara. She reaches up, cupping my cheeks in her hands. “Don’t ever walk away from me again, Theo.”

  I shake my head. “I won’t. I promise.”

  She takes one of my palms and places it on her stomach, resting her head on my shoulder. We stand in my office, leaning on each other, mourning everything that we almost had.

  There’s only one thing that pierces through the darkness of that day—Cara. The fact that she’s here in my arms. That she’s knocked me out of my daze and forced me to stay by her side.

  We’re together. Still. No matter what.

  Always.

  30

  CARA

  WHEN I FIND out that Theo has organized a stay at the villa for the two of us to have some privacy and peace, I shake my head.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that you were organizing this? You just ran off after talking about delaying the wedding, and my mind went crazy. I thought you were leaving me.”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight. I kept thinking about the baby—” The King’s voice cracks. He swallows thickly, his eyes misting up.

  I nod, running my fingers over his scalp and holding his head to my breast. Grief weighs heavy on the two of us. It’s an odd sort of mourning. We never met the baby. It was no more than a couple weeks after conception, but the sense of loss is immense. Indescribable.

  Heartbreaking.

  When the haze lifts ever so slightly, I realize that Theo and I are still in his office, holding each other. He stares at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead.

  “We can try again, Cara,” he whispers. “The doctor said we could still have children later.”

  “Please,” I say, shaking my head. “Not yet. Don’t say that yet.”

  Theo nods, wrapping his arms around me to hold me close. We stay like that for an hour or three, I don’t know. A long time.