Seduced by the Stranger

by Allison Gatta

  "You take offense to this?" Antone asked.

  This time it was her turn to shake her head. "No, I understand that a lot of women, maybe even most women, would be excited by those things, but I just..." She took a deep breath. "When you spend your whole life trying to get away from the formality and suffocation that comes with a life like that, it's hard to dive back in."

  "Ah, you are thinking of the baby?"

  She didn't look at him as she nodded. "I spent my whole life going to play dates that had some sort of political maneuvering behind them. My personality was expected to fit inside these tiny confines and reach expectations that just didn't suit me. You're right. It's a privileged life with the best schools and the best clothes and the best of everything...but it was never what I wanted for my child. I wanted him or her to be able to get dirty and play when they went to the park. To be able to make mistakes without the whole world looking on. After what the press did to me..."

  She cleared her throat, then forced herself to meet his gaze. "I mean, you're in the garden practically every night fretting over the huge amount of responsibility you carry on your shoulders. Do you mean to tell me that if you had the choice, you would have lived this way on purpose?"

  Antone stared at her, thinking over each and every word she'd said and turning it over in his mind. There was no doubting the truth of what she'd said--a public life was a huge trade off for a life filled with opportunities and privileges. Still, there was no changing what had happened, nor was there any possibility of altering the fate of their child. He would be king one day, just as Antone would be. Just as his father was now.

  "I do not know that I would change my responsibilities. But I do know that my upbringing was better than any I could have asked for. My mother was patient and kind. My father, before her passing, groomed me to lead. I never felt that I was missing anything or that, if I chose another path, my family would not support me." He laid his hand on the tiny swell of Tess' stomach, then took her hand in his. "I cannot pretend to know what it is to be a father, but I know that whatever this baby wants, this baby will have--come hell or high water. We will protect him and keep him safe. And if you are even half the mother I think you will be, then I have no doubt he will be not only a good ruler, but a good and decent man as well."

  Tear glistened in the corners of her eyes and he reached up lo brush them away. Then, threading his fingers through her hair, he pulled her close and let her tears fall onto his chest.

  11

  The next day, her things were moved from her private quarters to Antone's, and the day following that neither of them dared to leave their shared bed. Each meal was brought to them on a silver platter and when they weren't eating or making love, they were talking.

  For an hour each day, he took to training her personally in her princess lessons--explaining to her how the parliament worked in conjunction with the crown and also going over a few of the social customs she wasn't familiar with. At their wedding, apparently, she would be expected to dance with the king and kiss his wife on both cheeks before making her way to the altar.

  "My father will walk you down the aisle. Unless you would prefer to have your family flown in for the event. I know you had said--"

  "No, no. Your dad will work out fine." A fresh roll of guilt washed over her as she considered her options. She was almost finished with her first trimester and her family still didn't know she was pregnant...or engaged...or not in the country anymore...

  She bit her bottom lip, knowing that the longer this went on, the harder things would be, but she still couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone and share the happy news with her family. God only knew what Lydia would think, her senate race being overshadowed by her screw-up sister. It was exactly what she'd expected of Tess all along.

  "What is bothering you?" Antone asked, and he cupped her chin gently before snuggling her close against his still-naked form.

  "Nothing."

  "Ah, but I know you are lying. Are you worried about the wedding being so close?"

  She shook her head.

  "But then, you are worried about marrying me? A stranger?" he asked, and though he said the words casually, she knew that his concern was weighing heavier on him than he was letting on.

  "Not...not as much." She shook her head. "I'm sure the wedding will be beautiful. Your sister will do a wonderful job, I'm sure."

  Ellaria, either because she didn't trust Tess to make the arrangements or because she simply wanted an excuse to avoid further princess lessons, had taken on the bulk of the wedding planning, right down to picking out Tess' dress for her.

  "I have no doubt about that, but I did not ask you about Ellaria or the wedding planning. I asked about you."

  "I haven't technically told my family about you. Or the wedding. Or...or the baby." She looked down at his chest, not daring to meet his eyes.

  "You fear they will condemn you for your actions?"

  She sighed. "I don't know what I'm afraid of anymore. But, you have to admit, it's going to be a hell of a call to make. I got pregnant with a stranger's baby and now he's going to be my husband? That's hardly every mother's dream. And my father..." She shook her head. "You don't know these people. They're not just going to have a cow, they're going to have like an ox. Or a buffalo. Maybe even Yak."

  Antone laughed. "But what does this matter to you? I know you want them to be pleased with you, but there is nothing to be done now. You will be having a child and you will be my queen."

  "Yeah, I will." She bit her lip again.

  "You are still keeping something from me." It wasn't a question, but her stomach flipped at the idea of telling him the truth. Even with as close as they'd become over the past week, it didn't change the fact that she'd known him for less than a month. Everything was a mad dash to the finish line, and in her quiet moments she would find herself panting just to keep up.

  She wasn't queen material. Ellaria had made that plain from the first moment they'd met, and even if she hadn't, there was no denying the truth that Tess knew deep down. And, even if she was fit to rule, even if she had had all the training and poise that Antone's sisters had had, that her own sister had had, Antone hadn't opened up that side of his life to her.

  In the morning, when she woke and found him already sitting at his desk, she would ask what he was doing and he would say "nothing," quickly changing the subject to something else. When his father or an advisor would call him in the middle of the day, he would dress and leave the room, not allowing her to hear a single word of the conversation. And then, most nights, in the middle of the night, she would feel him shifting restless in the end beside her until, inevitably, he would grab his phone and his computer and make his way out the door again--probably headed for the garden for a late-night meeting.

  And then, in the moments when they lay in bed together, holding each other and breathing the salty-sweet sea air, she would see his gaze growing distant and know that he was slipping away from her, thinking over one issue or another that would need to be solved.

  If she was his queen, shouldn't he be sharing those moments with her? Shouldn't he allow her to bear the weight of responsibility, too? Or didn't he trust her? Didn't he think she was smart enough to handle that?

  Finally, choosing her words carefully, she responded, "I'm just...I don't know. I'm grappling with the idea of being queen, I guess. I've only ever been a waitress and, to be perfectly honest, I wasn't very good at that, either."

  "I doubt that. You seem to take commands easily enough." He pinned her hands over her head and rolled on top of her, kissing her deep, but she shook her head.

  "No, I just...I'm supposed to be the ruler of a country I haven't even seen, you know? Am I supposed to live the rest of my life inside this palace?"

  He considered her for a moment. "I do not know that leaving is the best idea. In your condition--"

  "I'm two months pregnant. I'm barely even showing." She shrugged. "I want to see the parliament building and I
want to see how things work. I want to see the people."

  "What you will see is the press. And a lot of them. Eclair has already sent out invitations to the wedding. The public is dying to see you and I doubt the photographers will be polite about getting such a valuable picture. If your family doesn't know, then it would be utter lunacy to go out in public and allow them to find out that way."

  She considered this for a while. "Okay. Maybe you're right." She stared at the stone walls, and he moved to cradle her against his chest. "Maybe if you told me about what it's like for you, then, I could get some idea? If you would just--"

  "I think you have plenty to be getting on with, don't you?" He kissed her hair, then smoothed it down her back.

  "There has to be something I can do."

  Antone's warm sigh tingled against her neck. "There's a private beach off the opposite wing of the castle. Would it make you feel less like a caged animal if we spent the day by the shore? If you like, I'll even leave my phone and computer here. It will be just for you and me." He kissed her again, this time on the shell of her ear, and she nodded.

  "Yeah, that'd be nice." She closed her eyes, picturing laying with him on the beach, feeling the sea mist brush against their skin as they walked along the water. It would be almost like a real date. Their first real date. "That would be really nice."

  As Tess changed into a flattering, simple dress and a bikini that someone borrowed from Regianna's quarters, Antone made all the proper arrangements with his guard. Normally, it was customary for the beach to have a regular patrol against onlookers and intruders, but he knew his recent disappearance from public life had made the press that much more voracious for news about him.

  But he could hold them off. Just a little longer, a little more time for Tess to settle into her role and they could have everything they wanted. He'd submit himself to interviews and chat show games, just so long as he could keep this little honeymoon period with his bride-to-be.

  Was that so much to ask?

  When he'd put the last touches on their security escort, Tess met him in the grand foyer and together they walked down the sloping stone steps of the castle to the beach below. Luca followed silently behind them, and a few times Tess turned around the glance at him.

  "Does he have to come?" she asked, her voice low to prevent Luca from overhearing. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like him, but can't we spend a little more time together with just, you know, you and me?"

  Antone offered her a smile. "Unfortunately, this is the best we can do for now, but once we're on the beach, he'll keep his distance."

  "So no chance of getting frisky on the sand?" She waggled her eyebrows and he laughed.

  "Not today, but trust me, it's going to be a struggle to look at you in a bikini and keep my hands to myself." He dropped a kiss on her check and felt the warmth of her skin beneath his lips.

  "Maybe I should keep my dress on. If someone sees me--"

  "Nonsense. You're barely even showing yet." He shrugged. "You're perfectly safe with me."

  She nodded, apparently thinking over his words as they finally made it to the sand. After her surveyed the shoreline for a long moment, she picked a place and laid out a blanket before pulling her dress over her head.

  And damn if he wasn't right about that bikini. Her curves practically spilled out of the tiny scraps of fabric, highlighting and accentuating her smooth, creamy skin. He clenched his hands, reminding himself of exactly how much security he had along the perimeter of the beach--exactly how many people would witness it if he pounced on her right here and now.

  "What?" She glanced down, straightening her bikini top, and a rosy glow highlighted her cheeks.

  He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just gorgeous, that's all."

  She rolled her eyes. "Come here." She laid down on the blanket, perching herself on her elbows so she could look out at the crashing waves.

  It wasn't a perfect day for the beach, he knew that. It was overcast, even a little chilly despite their generally warm climate, but as soon as he joined her on that blanket, there was still no place else he'd rather be.

  Stripping his shirt of his head, he mimicked the pose she'd struck, and together they listened as the waves came in and out and birds soared overhead.

  "This place is beautiful," Tess sighed. "Is the whole country this pretty?"

  Antone nodded. "The shops are a little more intimate than American stores. Lots of handcrafted soaps and foods. The grocery stores are smaller. But the streets are still the original cobblestone from when they were built and all along the island, you either have a view of the mountains or the shore."

  Tess whistled. "Wow. I can't wait to see it."

  "I cannot wait to share it with you." He leaned in, consumed by her sweet, flowery scent, and caught her bottom lip between his own. He'd meant it as a friendly kiss, but the second he touched her, he couldn't pull away.

  Gently, he brushed his hand over her stomach, deepening the kiss as his tongue swept out to meet hers and he remembered the way she'd felt beneath him the night before. The warm, wetness of her center as he sank deeper and deeper inside her.

  She let out a little whimper, and he pulled her down to him, tangling his fingers in her hair and closing his eyes to lose himself in the feel of her, the smell of her, but just as he did, something bright flashed behind his lids. He blinked, sitting straight up, and by the time he could focus on the cameras, the buzz of the reporters settled in.

  "Prince Antone, Prince Antone," They called, and he gripped Tess' hand, pulling her up as he swore in rushed Italian under his breath.

  "Things are getting steamy! Any comments to share?" A female reporter called and Tess stared at her, wide-eyed, her mouth slightly ajar.

  "Miss, miss, is that a baby bump? Is it the prince's baby?"

  At this, Tess looked even more alarmed, and though she opened her mouth wider, she only managed to make choking sounds.

  Antone shook his head at her, holding onto her hand still more tightly as he pivoted and hissed for Luca to handle the ever-growing stream of reporters. To another aid, he handed Tess off and commanded them to take her to her quarters as quietly as he could.

  Then, as Luca beat back the swirl of locusts, he marched toward his office, ready to make heads roll and control the damage that would inevitably come.

  How could that have happened? After all his precautions?

  But he'd known, hadn't he? He'd known it was a bad idea to take Tess into the public, and even with all his best efforts, he'd failed her. He knew how she felt about the reporters, and he'd exposed her anyway, just because he wanted her to feel better.

  But it had been foolish--reckless even. And worst of all, he'd promised her that it would be okay, that she could trust him.

  He swore under his breath again.

  Someone would pay for this, certainly, but the first person to blame was himself.

  12

  Antone was trying to shield her. It didn't take a genius to figure that much out. Still, there was no way he could block the constant stream of emails, notifications, and headlines that made the phone beep and bing every thirty seconds.

  It was just like when her father had run for president, but this time it was so much worse. Back then, it had all be hearsay and snide comments because nobody wanted to out-and-out slut shame their opponent’s daughter. Now, though? It was open season.

  The tabloids circled the pictures of her stomach, noting that the vague bump of her stomach must be the reason for her rushed, hushed-up engagement. Still more magazines printed pictures of a beautiful, raven-haired woman with a tiara perched on top of her head and the words "Betrayed!" splashed across the image. This, she found out, was the princess Annabella, the woman who Antone had been sworn to marry prior to the baby's conception. She knew it was only a political arrangement, and still her heart broke when she saw pictures of the princess, knowing that she had ruined a stranger's well-laid plans on top of her own.

  "The princess
understands. We have been friends for a long, long time. She has no ill will toward you," Antone soothed when she showed him the article. And then, none-too-slyly, he had tried to take her phone and hide it away. Along with, she suspected, all the rest of the newspapers and tabloids she couldn't find online.

  Worse, it seemed like he had placed everyone in the castle under oath to keep the outside world a total secret. No matter how long and hard she pestered him, Luca wouldn't say a word about the whole affair. On the few times she'd caught sight of Ellaria, she had only sneered and asked for the hundredth time if Tess had tried on her wedding gown yet--reminding her that the seamstress would be needing the measurements sooner rather than later.

  And so it went on. Antone tried to distract her at every chance, but the more she saw him, the more the guilt seeped into her bones. With every day, he looked more tired, more battered, and the day after the story broke, he held a press conference in the rose garden, which she was--in no uncertain terms--not permitted to attend.

  Yep, it was just like being her father's daughter all over again. But that wasn't the worst of it.

  Somehow, a few reporters had even managed to get her number and had called her in search of a quote or an interview. And when it wasn't the reporters or the notifications blowing up her phone? It was her family.

  Lydia had texted a few times, her mother had sent even more messages than that, and once even her father had dinged her. She hadn't had the nerve to call any of them. She hadn't even read the texts. She couldn't.

  The way she saw it, there were only two options--either they were mortified and outraged, or--worse yet--they were proud that she'd managed to snag a respectable husband to pull her out of her wayward lifestyle. None of them could possibly understand the torrent of emotions she went through every day--and with her hormones taking over her brain little by little, it was getting harder to keep her ever-changing emotions in check.