by Renna Peak
I can’t make Elle stay. Not when it would cause her pain. My head throbs as I watch the car pull away with her inside.
Go after her, something whispers in my head. Go bring her back, you fool.
But the other part of me knows such an attempt would be in vain—Elle is determined to go, and I’ve already said everything I could think of to say to her. The only thing that can save me now is the truth.
That’s what stings worst of all—the knowledge that all of this is happening because of a lie. Karina’s child isn’t mine. It can’t be mine. I know Elle has little reason to believe what I tell her about my use of condoms—but Elle is the only woman with whom I’ve ever been careless. Honestly, in my days of flitting from one woman to the next, nothing terrified me more than the thought of an accidental pregnancy, so I was adamant about using protection. I used a condom every time I was with Karina—and she said she was on birth control. Conceiving under those circumstances is next to impossible.
But what if she lied about the birth control? A voice whispers in my mind. What if there was something wrong with one of the condoms and you didn’t notice? What if it’s possible she’s telling the truth?
But it’s not possible. When I ran into her again a month ago at that resort on the Adriatic, she said nothing about a child. And though her curves were a little fuller than I remembered, I saw no obvious signs of pregnancy. This must be a hoax.
I jerk my hand through my hair. If she’s refusing to take a paternity test, then there’s no way to prove anything one way or another. Not to mention the fact that the longer this goes on, the more likely I’ll be forced to marry her for the reputation of both of our families.
At least now I know why she’s been calling me so much recently—she’s trying to wrangle herself a royal wedding. And she has the advantage—after all, who would believe the playboy prince?
There’s only one thing to do at this point—convince her to tell the truth herself. It’s the only way out of this.
I race back to my suite. Matthias is there, setting up a dinner tray.
“Matthias, don’t worry about the food. I need you to do something for me.”
He straightens. “Yes, Your Highness?”
“I need you to locate Karina. Then have my plane readied for an immediate departure. Wherever she is, I need to see her. Tonight.”
A hint of a smile appears on Matthias’ lips, though his eyes are still grim. “She’s in London, Your Highness. At the Centennial.” He must see the shock on my face because he adds, “I’ve worked for you a long time, Your Highness. I can sometimes guess what you might require of me. And your plane is already being prepared for departure. I suspected that after you learned of Elle’s plans to leave you’d probably be going after one woman or the other before the night was over.”
I take a deep breath. “I want to go after Elle. But she won’t listen to me.”
He gives a single nod. “The poor girl has been through a lot of hardship in her life. I can understand why she might be afraid of sharing a life with you, with all that it entails.”
His honesty does little to comfort me. “I’m not letting someone else’s lies come between me and Elle. I refuse.”
Matthias gives another nod. “The plane should be ready within the hour, Your Highness. I’ll inform the pilot that we’ll be heading to London.”
And true to his word, within an hour I’m on the jet, flying into the night toward the woman who put me into this predicament.
Karina. She’s been as prominent a figure in the tabloids as I have—like me, she enjoyed wild parties and late, scandalous nights. She and I did always sort of have an understanding of each other. But other than what I know of her family and what the magazines say about her, I know very little about the woman herself. We spent little time having actual conversations during the week I enjoyed her company, and we certainly talked little during our more recent encounter at that resort on the Adriatic. I cringe as I remember how that encounter ended—is that what this is about? Is this some sort of revenge for refusing to have sex with her again? This seems a little extreme, even for her.
The flight seems to take a lifetime, though in reality it can’t be more than a couple of hours. By the time we reach London, I’m restless and agitated.
Have faith in me, Elle. I will fix this.
Matthias made sure a car was waiting on the airstrip for us, so within minutes of touching down, we’re on our way into the city toward the Centennial.
I’ve stayed at this hotel a couple of times myself, and the concierge recognizes me the moment I walk through the doors.
“Your Highness,” he says, coming toward me. “I didn’t know to expect you this evening! I can arrange a room right away for you. The Executive Penthouse Suite can be prepared—”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say. “I’m actually here to visit a friend. My valet tells me she’s in the Regal Suite, where I usually stay.”
“I…” The concierge stammers then collects himself quickly. “The Lady Karina, yes, of course.” He ushers us toward the private elevator that services the two penthouse suites on the top floor of the hotel. “She is expecting you?”
Not exactly. Though she shouldn’t be surprised by my appearance here, either.
“That will be all,” I tell the concierge. “My valet will accompany me from here.”
The concierge nods. “Understood, Your Highness. Please do not hesitate to contact me should you have need of anything.”
Matthias and I ride up the elevator in complete silence. I wonder what he thinks of my decision to come here—what he expects me to say or do. Frankly, I’m not sure what to say or do myself. But I’m also grateful he’s here with me.
When we reach the corridor on the top floor, I take a deep breath before knocking on the door of the Regal Suite. I want this finished once and for all.
When several moments pass and no one answers, I give another knock. Already, though, the doubts are setting in. Why didn’t I give her any warning? For all I know, she’s out and won’t be home for hours. There were certainly a couple of nights during our affair that we didn’t stumble back to our hotel room until nearly dawn. Perhaps I should have given this a little more thought.
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. If I have to wait here all night, I will. I will talk to her. I will make her explain herself to me.
I knock one more time before glancing at Matthias.
“I can go back to the concierge and secure you the other penthouse for the night, Your Highness,” he says.
Just when I’m about to agree, the door finally opens a crack.
“This had better be pretty damned important,” comes a familiar voice. “What sort of treatment is this, waking up your guests in the middle of the night?”
Karina is standing there in a dressing gown, scowling out at us. It takes a moment for her to recognize me, but I see the exact moment that she does. She blinks, then says, “Oh.”
“Oh doesn’t begin to cover it,” I say, failing to keep the anger out of my voice. “We need to talk, Karina.”
She sighs and crosses her arms. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
“It most certainly cannot. If you’d just answered the calls from my press secretary—”
“You’re one to accuse me of ignoring calls. I’ve called you at least half a dozen times over the last week.”
My jaw tightens, and I try to keep my temper in check. “Well, I’m ready to talk now. I’d appreciate it if you let me in. Or do you expect me to just sit by and do nothing after what you’ve done?”
She gives another sigh and steps back, opening the door a little more.
“Fine, you can come in,” she says. Her eyes dart to Matthias. “But only you. This is a conversation we need to have in private.”
I almost protest, but when I look at Matthias, he gives a small nod. He won’t go far, I know.
I walk into the room, still trying to control my temper. I didn’t come
here thinking I’d yell at her, but now that I’m here, now that I’ve seen her, all my anger has come bubbling forward. Control yourself, Leo. This won’t be won with anger.
When the door has closed, she gestures toward the sofa. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“I prefer to stand.”
“Suit yourself.” She walks over to the seating area and sits down on a thick armchair. As she does, I find myself looking at her closely. At first glance, she looks little different than she did when I saw her a few weeks ago—but it’s hard to see much of her shape through her dressing gown. Her face seems a touch fuller, too, but again it’s difficult to tell.
“Shall I order you something?” she asks. “Food or beverage?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Stop stalling, Karina. I need to know why you’re doing this.”
“Leo, sometimes accidents happen—”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I say, still keeping my voice level. “I used a condom. Every time.”
“Condoms aren’t effective one hundred percent of the time.”
“And you said you were on birth control. Or was that a lie? And speaking of lies, if you’re pregnant, then why the bloody hell didn’t you say anything to me when we saw each other a month ago? I must say, I’m not entirely convinced that this isn’t an attempt to get back at me for how things ended between us.”
She gives a careless wave of her hand. “Leo, none of that matters now. What matters is that I’m pregnant, and we need to decide what to do about it.”
“Are you certain it isn’t someone else’s? I know I’m not the only one who—”
“Leo, please. Let’s be civil about this.”
Something about her voice makes me look at her a little more closely. For the first time, I notice the dark circles under her eyes—dark circles that were almost certainly caused by more than being woken up in the middle of the night. She looks completely exhausted—not tired, in need of a night’s rest, but truly exhausted. As if the weight of the world is bearing down on her—and has been for some time.
And then she moves slightly. The thick fabric of the dressing gown shifts against her body, and suddenly the shape of her body is unmistakable. Maybe she wasn’t showing the last time I saw her, but she’s definitely showing now.
Maybe it’s a prosthetic stomach, I tell myself. But I know that idea is absurd. Besides, she seemed genuinely surprised to find me at her door at this hour, and I doubt she was sleeping in a fake pregnancy belly on the off chance I might appear.
One thing is certain—she’s not lying about the pregnancy part of this scenario.
Shame floods my stomach. What if she isn’t lying about any of it? What if this child truly is mine? I charged in here throwing accusations at her—thinking the absolute worst of her—without ever stopping to hear her side of the story. But if she’s telling the truth…
What sort of man does that make me? I think about the things Elle said to me just before she left. What sort of man loses his temper with the woman carrying his child, whether or not it was an accident? Until now, Karina has been enduring this alone. I can’t leave her alone now that I realize she’s actually pregnant.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the tension sliding out of my body. “It’s just—this was a bit of a shock, as you can imagine.” I start pacing. “I never thought—I mean, I know there’s always a remote possibility, I just didn’t want it to be true. Not that… I’m not trying to be heartless, you understand. God, this is coming out all wrong.”
“Sit down, Leo.”
“No, I need to… I need to say this.” I’m not even sure how to word this, but I need her to hear this, to understand. “I shouldn’t have said anything until I heard your side of the story. I understand that.” I stop pacing and grab the back of the sofa. “I… The truth is, this news has cost me more than you know. But I understand that I have a responsibility to fulfill, and I want you to know that you won’t have to endure this alone.” It’s strange, but knowing that this is what Elle would want me to do, knowing this makes me the sort of man she deserves, makes saying these words slightly easier—even though I know it also means I might never see Elle again. “It’s just… Fuck, Karina. I will do the right thing by you, I promise.”
She’s staring at me, mouth slightly agape.
“Who are you?” she says finally.
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“Because you’re definitely not Leo. The Leo I remember would have taken a lot of convincing before he agreed to take responsibility for a baby, let alone agreed to marriage. That is what you mean when you say you’ll do the right thing by me, isn’t it?”
I straighten my shoulders. “If that’s what you need, then—”
“What’s going on?” she says, her eyes narrowing in something that looks almost like suspicion. “What have you done with the man I knew a few months ago?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“I knew you’d be angry,” she says. “I was prepared for it. I was not prepared for…” She waves her hand up and down, indicating me. “For whoever this is. What’s happened to you these past few months? First your weird behavior the last time we met, and now this…”
Elle happened. But saying that out loud right now feels like a betrayal to them both.
She’s still watching me closely, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Then, suddenly, her eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh my God,” she says. “It was a woman, wasn’t it?”
“I’d really rather not discuss—”
“It was a woman,” she says, looking almost delighted by this. “Oh my God, Leo, did you get your heart broken? Who was it?”
“I’m here to discuss my relationship with you, not anyone else,” I say.
Her joy at discovering my secret seems to be fading quickly, replaced by a frown. “Fuck, Leo, when you said that this news cost you more than I could know, did you mean…her?”
My fingers grip the back of the couch. “As I said, I’m only here to discuss—”
“Damn it, Leo, you loved her, didn’t you? Whoever this girl was?”
Love her. Present tense. Now and always. But I refuse to discuss Elle with another woman, and Karina refuses to change the subject, so I just stay silent. Finally, she shakes her head.
“God, this complicates things,” she says. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t expect you to be in love, Leo. Maybe it really is best if you sit down for this. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Elle
I sleep on the flight home. I had no idea how tired I was—I haven’t let myself think much about it, but I haven’t slept very much since Leo came to get me for our first date. I can’t really remember how long ago that was—less than a week ago, I think.
Less than a week. That’s all it took for everything in our lives to change. It was all it took for our lives to change after our first meeting in Rio de Campo, too. And it was all it took for Leo to father a child with some wannabe royal. I don’t think I could have ever imagined that my entire life could change such a short space of time—then change again. And again.
My fairy tale is over now, though. After almost a full day of travel back to the tiny town in Arizona where my car and all my things have been sitting in a parking lot for almost a week, I realize I have nowhere to go. My house in Los Angeles is currently occupied by a couple with a young child who signed a year-long lease. I gave up the interview I’d had arranged in Oklahoma which means I pretty much gave up the chance to ever work for the medical agency I had been working for before.
I realize for the first time in my life I don’t have a plan. I don’t have anywhere to go—anything to go to. I suppose I can make my way back to Rio de Campo and check on Owen at some point, but I imagine he would have called me for help by now if he had wanted it from me.
But I am going to have to go back to work. My mortgage and student loan payments are a few days late—I’ve been a little
distracted this past week, and I haven’t thought about something as mundane as bills while I was playing dress-up in the palace.
I pull out my phone and plug it into my dashboard to charge for a few minutes. I might have bills—and nowhere to call home—but I do have an interview with the reporter tomorrow. She had wanted to speak to me by video conference when I first spoke with her when I was in Montovia—I hadn’t known where I would be or even how I could meet with her in person, but now that I’m here, maybe I should find out where she is. It wouldn’t hurt to speak to someone in person—to have a real-life acquaintance. It might be nice, actually.
My exhaustion is catching up with me again—it’s probably just the thought of having to drive from this tiny desert town to anywhere else. I’m not sure what I had been thinking, being out here in the middle of nowhere. I know I was hiding—trying to hide, anyway—and look where that got me. On a private jet to New York City with a free week’s trip to the palace in Montovia, only to end up humiliated by Prince Leopold.
Yeah, I haven’t come very far.
My phone is finally charged enough to use and I check my bank account to be sure my last check from the medical agency is there. I see that it is and I log myself into my student loan account to pay my monthly bill.
I have to check it three times, though—something is wrong. The balance—the enormous balance of medical school loans that I’ve had—the amount that has kept me up more nights than I’ve ever wanted to admit—is now zero. Zero. It isn’t a number I thought I would ever see in the ‘amount owed’ column on the website. There has to be some sort of mix-up—I click the button to pay the bill, but it says there is no balance owed. It won’t even let me fill in an amount to pay. I suppose I’ll need to call them after I get the mortgage paid.
But when I log in to that account, the balance there is also zero.
It takes me a few minutes to realize what’s happened. I had said something about these bills to Leo. I remember telling him that first night how I had bills to pay—how I lived in the real world and that I had to go back to work so that I could meet my obligations. And he had waved his hand like it was nothing. Those dollar amounts—those enormous bills probably are nothing to Leo. But I can’t let him do this. It amounts to prostitution as far as I’m concerned. He only paid these bills for me because I agreed to stay in the palace with him until that damned state dinner.