The Crown Prince's Bride

by Donna Alward

  She took several deep breaths while guilt crawled over him.

  “You’re right,” he finally answered, feeling slightly sick. “I was a total coward. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say, so I said nothing at all.”

  “But you hurt me anyway. Do you get that I loved you? That our week away I kept telling myself not to get my hopes up but I couldn’t help it, because being with you was so . . . so . . .”

  She looked away.

  He’d felt it, too. And that was what had scared him.

  “It was for me too. It’s just . . . I’m not ready, Steph.”

  “Then you should have said so, instead of acting like nothing happened. That I didn’t matter.”

  His head snapped up as he met her gaze. “You do matter! Of course you do!”

  “How would I know?”

  Tears had formed at the corners of her eyes now, and he felt panic mix with the guilt. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she cried. All the emotions of the past few weeks pummeled him. His feelings for her, his fear, his conflicting vision of the future, the sobering incident of his father’s heart attack, and what that meant for him personally . . . Now this. She was right. He hadn’t offered her one thank you, one bit of extra praise for taking up the slack. He’d been so stuck in his own head he’d ignored the one person who was always, always there.

  He pushed out his chair and paced to one end of his office, and then back again, running his hand over his hair. “Do you know how much I feel pulled in every possible direction? Everyone wants something from me! And there’s no way I can make everyone happy. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  She stood and faced off against him. “You were always so quick to judge your brother, but maybe you could try taking a page out of Diego’s book. You could put your happiness first, and realize that the rest will fall into place. But I don’t know if you can ever do that, Raoul. You’re too afraid. And until you can face that fear . . .”

  She swiped at her tears. “I can’t sit around and wait for something that might never happen. I deserve better. I deserve to put my happiness first, too. So I’m either going to Africa to help Diego and Rose or I’m putting in my notice and leaving.”

  His stomach dropped to his feet. He’d always admired her stubborn streak but not this time. “Leave? Where would you go?”

  Silence fell in the office. She lifted her chin and God, she was beautiful. That warrior look was one of the reasons he admired her so much. She was a woman who got things done. Who committed and saw it through. He knew that her words weren’t idle threats. If she said she’d leave, she’d do it.

  “I’ve had four job offers in the last month. A few might have expired, but I have options, Raoul. I’ve worked a very high profile job and my qualifications are excellent.”

  He sat back down in his chair.

  “Go to Africa,” he said weakly. “Take some time.”

  She stared at him for another moment, then gave a quick nod. “I’ll bring Sofia up to speed until I go. It’ll take a bit for arrangements to be made.”

  She left and closed the door with a firm click.

  Raoul put his head in his hands. How had he screwed this up so badly? He knew how. He’d been a coward, told himself he didn’t want to hurt her so he avoided talking about things altogether. He’d been utterly unfair, and the longer he’d remained silent, the harder it had been to imagine having that conversation. So he’d ignored it, pretending their problems would just go away.

  She was right to be angry. And he was ashamed. He’d definitely counted on the fact that she would always be there.

  And yes, his father’s sudden illness had been a jolt, making him realize how much the family and the people of Marazur relied on him. But that didn’t excuse his behavior.

  He went after her, unsure of what he would say but knowing he had to say something to try to set things right. Or if not right, at least honest.

  She’d wasted no time leaving. By the time Marco had brought the car around, Raoul figured she was already home at her flat. To his credit, Marco said nothing on the trip into the city. And when they arrived, he simply advised Raoul that he would wait in the car.

  Raoul climbed the stairs to her floor and knocked on her door.

  She answered it, but he couldn’t read the expression on her face. She’d shut him out. He deserved it.

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  She stood aside, and he stepped into her apartment. He was immediately assaulted with memories of his other visit here. The dinner, the balcony, the sofa. Their relationship had really started here.

  “I have no excuse for how I behaved, Steph. I’m sorry. I can make excuses, tell you what was going through my mind at the time, but the truth is I was wrong. I protected my own feelings at the expense of yours, and that was completely selfish and cowardly.”

  Her face softened a bit. “I don’t hate you. How could I? But I have to do what’s right for me. And I can’t figure that out if I stay here. I need some time, Raoul. Truth is, I was thinking of leaving long before we went to France.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d had no inkling that she was unhappy.

  “Sit down,” she suggested. “I’ll bring you some water.”

  When she returned from the kitchen, he’d found his voice again. “I can’t change your mind?”

  She shook her head. “You might have, once. If you’d told me what you were feeling, even if you’d asked me to be patient while you thought things through. I could have worked with that. But you shut me out, and you put my feelings and our relationship at the bottom of the list. I understood those first days that your father was in the hospital. But after that . . . it was avoidance, pure and simple. And that’s not good enough for me.”

  “I was going to talk to you when the call came about my father. You do realize that, right?”

  She pulled up a chair and sat across from him. “I know that’s where it was leading. I love you, Raoul. It’s because I love you that I have to do this. I gave you opportunities. And the only time you came forward with your feelings was because you had to. Because I said I wanted to leave.”

  He put the water on the table beside him. “Then I think you should go. Maybe we both need to think about what we want. How we feel.”

  “I know how I feel. I don’t think you can say the same. And until you can, I need to start living for me.”

  He nodded, feeling oddly like crying himself. She was a special woman and he was throwing his chance away. Dios mío, she’d said that she loved him, and it humbled him and scared him all at once. But she was right. He hadn’t treated her as she deserved. And that had happened because he wasn’t ready to fall in love and he’d been too afraid to admit it. His father’s illness had only been an excuse. She would have stood beside him if he’d allowed it, and they both knew it. Because Steph was the kind of woman who would be there, no matter the consequences.

  He thought back to how she’d made sure he ate and how she’d tried to hold his hand on the plane and in the car. How she’d taken over the resort report on their return, and even made adjustments within the household for Alexander’s return home.

  She did deserve better, and he hadn’t given it to her because he was too afraid.

  He looked into her eyes and said the words he should have said that morning in his suite. “I’m not ready, Steph. I care about you and the time we spent together was so amazing. But I’m not ready to love anyone. I thought about our relationship being in the press or even within the family and staff and I just froze.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “And as disappointed and hurt as I am, I do understand.” She reached up and touched his face. “Now let me go.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  They sat that way for a few moments, because leaving meant leaving whatever potential they might have had behind. Finally he got up. She did too, and he leaned forward and kissed her cheek
.

  “Whatever arrangements you need to make, do it. We’ll accommodate.”

  “Thank you, Raoul.”

  He nodded, then turned to leave.

  Marco was waiting in the car, saw Raoul approaching, and got out to open his door. Once Raoul was inside, he slumped against the seat.

  “Home, please, Marco.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The car pulled away from the curb. They were out of her neighborhood and on a main street when Marco spoke again. “This will be completely out of line, sir, but you’re an idiot.”

  Raoul wondered if Marco expected him to disagree or be angry. Instead he met his driver’s eyes and simply said, “I know.”

  * * *

  Stephani’s days were jam-packed with arrangements. There was handing things over to Sofia, setting up interviews for a new assistant, getting up to speed with the project in Tanzania, travel arrangements. She felt tired all the time, and at the end of the day she often felt like crying as she ate a late dinner before falling into bed.

  She credited the fatigue to both the long work days and the emotional toll it took to be in the same office with Raoul day after day. She’d said she loved him; he hadn’t said it in return. He focused on his work and the children and his father’s recovery, but barely spared her a glance or a word.

  Three weeks had passed since they’d jetted off to Nice. She’d been taken right to the top of the roller coaster and then plunged to the bottom again.

  There was a reason she didn’t like roller coasters.

  Before she could make her trip, she needed a physical. Dr. Sanchez, the palace physician, set up an appointment for her at his office. She walked in at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday and was immediately ushered into an exam room. The nurse gave her a soft cotton gown and she lay down on the bed, a thin sheet covering her.

  She woke when Dr. Sanchez entered the room.

  He smiled at her. “Working too hard again?”

  “Long days. It’s a lot of prep, getting ready to move for six months.”

  “But exciting.” He moved to the side of the bed, and his face turned serious. “Stephani, I think you should reconsider your trip.”

  His statement was surprising and she gaped at him. “What? Why?”

  “Well, your records show that you’re not up-to-date with some of your vaccines.”

  Relief flooded through her. “Well, that’s part of why I’m here.”

  He nodded. “And some of them I could give to you safely. But not yellow fever, and the anti-malaria medication approved for you isn’t as effective in areas of Africa.”

  “Why do you mean, approved for me? Why aren’t they safe?” She sat up on the bed.

  He looked at her evenly. “By the look on your face, I’m going to assume that you don’t know that you’re pregnant.”

  The room swirled around for a moment or two, and she saw black dots. “Put your head between your knees,” Dr. Sanchez advised. He rubbed her back for a few moments, then went to the little sink and got her a paper cup of water. “Drink this, and we’ll talk.”

  She nodded and took the cup from him. The water was cool and revivifying, and she took a deep breath while the word ran on repeat in her brain. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

  “I didn’t know,” she said weakly, then leaned back against the pillow again. “It’s only been a few weeks. I haven’t even missed my period yet. I’m due in a few days.”

  “I always do a test on a checkup urine sample,” he answered. “We can confirm it with a blood test, but I’d trust it.”

  A baby. Raoul’s baby. Oh God. This was horrible . . . and wonderful . . . and if she thought things were complicated before, they’d just be ratcheted up to about nine billion.

  “And so the problem with the vaccine is that I’m pregnant?”

  He nodded. “A lot of vaccines are safe, but some aren’t, or some lack the data to support it either way. I can’t stop you from going, but if you were to get sick, it wouldn’t be just you. It would be the baby, too.” He looked her square in the eye. “If you are going to keep it, that is.”

  Of course she was. This wasn’t how she’d planned it, but she wanted children. “I am. But wow. This just . . . changes everything.”

  He smiled again. “Babies usually do.” His voice was warm and calming. “I’m sorry about your trip, though.”

  “Me too.” She looked over at him. “Dr. Sanchez, you’re the royal physician. Will my condition be . . . that is, I mean to say . . .”

  He took her hand. “No. I am still bound by confidentiality, and anything we discuss here is safe.”

  She looked into his kind face and let out a breath. “Okay. The baby is Raoul’s.”

  If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “I see.”

  “I don’t quite know what to do about that, to be honest. It’s highly possible I’ll be leaving the palace. If I do . . . if I end up away from Marazur, could you recommend a doctor for me?”

  “As long as you’re here, you’re my patient,” he said. “And I’ve known Raoul since he was a teenager. Even if the two of you aren’t together, he’ll want the best of care for your baby. You’ll be taken care of, Stephani. I promise. Shall we get on with the rest of the appointment? We want you as healthy and happy as possible.”

  He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm, while Stephani scrambled to make sense of her thoughts. Healthy? Maybe. Happy? How could she be completely happy when her personal life was in such a mess?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The last thing she wanted to do was tell Raoul the news, but since her plans were all going to be cancelled right away, she couldn’t wait. She parked her car at the back of the palace and entered through the servant’s door, stopping at the kitchen first. It was nearly eight and she hadn’t eaten since noon; she’d been so out of sorts after seeing the doctor that she’d driven down to the ocean and sat on the beach, watching the waves break on the shore. She’d needed time to think.

  In reality, she should probably be panicking. She and Raoul weren’t together. She’d thrown a monkey wrench into the operations of the monarchy and was about to turn it upside down again. The crown prince was about to have an illegitimate baby. Even if she didn’t reveal the identity of the father, there would probably be speculation.

  She should be panicking, but she wasn’t. Because deep down she was happy. Oddly, she kept telling herself she shouldn’t be. She was single, her relationship with the father was in tatters, and all her plans were changing. But she was. Come what may, she was happy that she was going to have a child. Be a mother.

  The kitchen staff was still bustling around, but Señora Ortiz took one look at her, grinned, and fixed a plate. The chicken and salad was delicious and exactly what she needed. She turned down dessert, thought of the bottle of vitamins she now had in her purse. Even the way she ate was about to change.

  “Is the family still at dinner?” she asked.

  “They’re just finishing dessert.”

  Nerves bubbled around in her stomach. She had to simply get it over with, didn’t she?

  She gave Señora Ortiz an unexpected peck on the cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “Of course. You come to my kitchen anytime.”

  Stephani went upstairs then, toward the dining room. Raoul and Diego were still seated at the table, chatting, when she stepped to the doorway. Her heart tumbled a little. Her feelings for Raoul hadn’t changed. There was no question he’d disappointed her, but that was added pain. It had done nothing to stop how much she loved him. Now she was going to tell him they were going to have a child together, all the while knowing they would be raising him or her apart.

  “Raoul? May I speak to you for a minute?”

  He looked up and his face immediately fell into an expression of concern. “Of course. Are you all right?”

  She tried a smile, but nerves seemed to be getting the better of her. “I’m fine, but if we could talk in the library, that would
be great.”

  Raoul looked at Diego, who also wore an expression of alarm. Did she really look so bad?

  “I’ll catch up with you later, Diego,” Raoul said, rising from the table.

  She led the way down the hall to the library, which was just about as neutral a territory as could be found in the palace. When he was inside, she shut the door behind them.

  He was at her side immediately. “What is it? Are you okay? You look scared to death.”

  She nodded. “I am, a bit. But I’m okay, I promise.”

  “I know you saw Dr. Sanchez today. If you’re sick . . .”

  The fear on his face was real, and it made her feel better—and worse—that he truly did care.

  She took his hand and led him to a plush settee. Once they were seated, she dropped his hand and clasped hers together on her knees.

  “I did see Dr. Sanchez.” She lifted her gaze, her chest constricting as she forced out the words. “I’m not sick, Raoul. I’m pregnant.”

  All the color drained out of his face.

  “That was my reaction, too,” she said dryly. “Dr. Sanchez thought I was going to faint.”

  “Pregnant? But we were careful.”

  “Not careful enough, it seems. There’s been no one else, Raoul.”

  The blood rushed back into his face. “Of course not. I mean, not that you couldn’t . . . Oh my God. I can’t speak. I can’t think right now.”

  “Take your time,” she suggested softly. “I spent the afternoon sitting on the beach, working up the nerve to come here tonight.”