Suddenly she wished, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since the funeral that her mother were there. Just so she would be able to hold her and receive her words of comfort. How she missed her soft voice and gentle smile.
She even wished Isabella were there but her younger sister had escaped the House of Fernandez’s Christmas festivities to spend the period with her husband’s family.
‘Who’s the father?’
She pressed her lips together.
‘A virgin conception? How fitting.’ His mouth curved into another hateful sneer. ‘Nathaniel Giroud?’
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop the little tremor that raced through her at the mention of Nathaniel’s name.
‘It is him.’
Such was the fury that spread across her brother’s face Catalina braced herself for another strike.
Instead, Dominic stooped down, close enough for her to smell his rancid breath. ‘You disgusting slut.’
She didn’t react. She wouldn’t react. It would only make matters worse. She didn’t even flinch when his spittle flew into her face.
‘Bad enough Helios dumped you, a pure-blood royal princess, for a commoner and that the whole world knows it, whatever the press release we issued might have said, but for you to then open your legs for that piece of scum...?’ Malice shone on his face. ‘You realise Johann was preparing to ask Father for your hand in marriage? That’s another prospect ruined.’
Bile crept up her throat, threatening to choke her.
‘You’re ruined; you know that? Johann won’t want you now you’re second-hand goods.’
She couldn’t breathe.
‘Giroud won’t want you either,’ Dominic jeered. ‘He screwed you to get one up on me. You were nothing but a game to him and an easy lay. I told you to stay away from him and now you must pay the price.’
He stared down at her, his face twisted in an ugly contortion. ‘Father will wish to speak to you. He will decide what needs to be done and what the consequences are to be.’
He made to leave then paused, turning back around to slap her other cheek. ‘That’s for disobeying me when I told you to stay away from Nathaniel Giroud.’
Straightening his tie, he left the room.
Alone, Catalina closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.
The screams in her head rang out.
Placing a protective hand to her stomach, she forced herself to look in her dressing-table mirror. Bright red finger marks marred both her cheeks.
There was no way to fix the damage before Marion came to her rooms. All the same, she applied foundation with shaking hands, hoping to tone down the worst of it.
Breathe, Catalina, breathe.
When Nathaniel had left her room that morning three weeks ago, she had felt an inexplicable wrench to see the door close behind him.
She hadn’t heard from him since and she hadn’t expected to. They had both known it could only ever be for one night.
But she’d been aware of him for years.
Friends with the Kalliakis Princes, if not Catalina’s own brother, Nathaniel had often attended the same functions she’d been at; a tall magnetic figure her eyes had always been drawn to. She’d experienced a little pull in the pit of her stomach whenever she’d met his eye and experienced an even greater tug whenever they’d greeted each other with the kiss on both cheeks that everyone used. But she had never allowed herself to think anything about it. They were part of the same social network but they were not friends. Male friends were not permitted for a princess from the House of Fernandez.
Until Helios’s wedding, when Nathaniel had taken it upon himself to act as her guardian angel on the day that should have been her wedding, she had never exchanged more than pleasantries with him.
He was intensely private, so she knew little about him other than that his parents had died in an accident when he was very young—she didn’t know the details—and that he’d been raised by an uncle and had attended the same boarding school as Dominic and the Kalliakis Princes. He owned a string of hotels and business developments, along with the Club Giroud, a private members club for the most affluent, which had made him one of France’s richest men and a self-made billionaire before he’d turned thirty. Gregarious and charming, he was a notorious womaniser and hell-raiser, someone who enjoyed the lifestyle his wealth brought to its fullest extent.
But he’d shown a different side to her that day. He’d seen that she was vulnerable and had made it his mission to get her through the wedding with a smile on her face. Whether his motive from the outset had been to bed her, she didn’t care. She’d wanted him too. For the one and only time in her life she’d thrown caution to the wind and embraced a side she’d spent a lifetime suppressing.
Even if she hadn’t been a princess and he a commoner whom her brother detested, she would never have expected more than one night. Commitment was an alien concept to him.
But she hadn’t been able to get him from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes she could see him. She could taste him. She could feel his skin under her fingers. In the privacy of her bed she would relive their night together, playing it over like a movie in her head. Every touch. Every caress.
She had assumed the next time she would see him would be at some function or other. She had assumed he would greet her with the usual kiss and that maybe his hand would press into her side a little longer than normal, a subtle acknowledgement of their time together. She had assumed she would hug their secret to herself for the rest of her life.
Since she could remember, it had been made plain her virginity was sacred, something to be saved for her wedding day. For twenty-five years she had accepted this.
She was a princess. She had a life of wealth and privilege. She was a representative of the House of Fernandez, expected to marry into a family that would strengthen her own family’s cultural links and power. She was expected to behave with decorum and propriety at all times and not once had she failed in this. She had never whispered a word of complaint that her brother was allowed to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted and neither had she complained that free spirit Isabella’s bratty behaviour was indulged by their brother and father alike.
Dominic had never raised a finger to Isabella.
Not once in her life had Catalina ever done anything that wasn’t for the good of the House of Fernandez. Not once.
And then she had.
She had cast aside duty for one forbidden night.
And now she would be punished for that moment of blissful madness for the rest of her life.
What she didn’t know and couldn’t begin to predict was what that punishment would entail.
* * *
Christmas was the one time of year Nathaniel detested. All that fake bonhomie, the commercialisation, the forced proximity with so-called loved ones. All of it.
It brought home as nothing else did that the three people Nathaniel had loved with all his heart were gone, had been dead now for twenty-eight years. On Christmas morning, the time traditionally spent opening presents and leaving a trail of discarded wrapping paper everywhere, the loss felt as fresh as it had the first morning he’d woken without them.
This year he’d made the decision to spend the period in Monte Cleure rather than in any of his other homes. Other than the fact it was the site of his most current development, Monte Cleure had a relatively temperate winter climate, situated as it was on France’s southern border with Spain, meaning there was little to no chance of snow.
He’d avoided snow for twenty-eight years.
The only sign of festivity in his apartment was the empty bottle of Scotch on the floor by the sofa, which was where he found himself when he was rudely awakened early on Boxing Day morning by the shrill tone of the intercom.
He sat bol
t upright, clutching his pounding head and cursing himself for not making it to his bed. If he hadn’t given his household staff four days off each to spend the holidays with their families, he would let one of them deal with the caller.
Stumbling to his feet, he punched the intercom.
‘Yes?’ he growled. He’d left instructions with the concierge that he was not to be disturbed until tomorrow when the madness of Christmas was over.
‘Monsieur Giroud, His Highness Prince Dominic from the House of Fernandez is here to see you.’
‘What does he want?’
The concierge’s voice dropped to a scared murmur. ‘It is not my place to ask.’ Nathaniel might be the boss and owner of the entire building, but Dominic was heir to the throne of the entire country.
Nathaniel left unsaid his thought that the Prince might not be such a self-satisfied moron if people asked questions of him.
‘Send him up.’
While he waited for the elevator to bring Dominic to him, he staggered to the kitchen and downed a pint of water.
Whatever the Prince wanted could not be good.
A loud rap on the door announced his arrival.
Nathaniel pulled the door open. The burly figure of the heir to the Monte Cleure throne strode in, followed closely by a bodyguard.
‘What can I do for you, Dominic?’ he asked, deliberately not using his title. Then, also deliberately, he turned his back and walked through to the living area. ‘Here to celebrate some festive cheer with me?’
When there was no answer, he said, ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
‘From the look and smell of you, you’ve already had enough to drink,’ Dominic sneered. He had the air of a junior silverback making a show of asserting its dominance. If his head didn’t hurt so much, Nathaniel would find it amusing.
‘If I’d known you were coming I would have showered. So, drink?’
‘I’m not here for a social visit.’
‘I didn’t imagine you were. However, I am of the opinion that even the most boring business conversation can be sweetened with a pot of fresh Columbian coffee.’ It could only help his pounding head.
‘I’m not here for a business meeting either.’
‘Then why don’t you tell me what’s so urgent you turn up unannounced at my home demanding an audience.’
‘Your home?’
‘Bought and paid for. The title deeds to the Ravensberg building are held with my lawyer if you wish to see them?’ Nathaniel hadn’t rented since the first apartment he’d had when he’d been seventeen and his landlord had dragged his heels over fixing the broken heating system during a particularly cold spell.
He liked to be master of his own destiny, reliant only on himself. All his properties, business and personal alike—and he had so many he’d lost count—were solely his. He didn’t owe a cent to any person, bank or organisation. His business was his and his alone. No one could take it away from him. Bricks and mortar he could count on; permanent fixtures in a fragile world full of horrors.
‘Title deeds are only worth something if you own the land the property is built upon. Take your development here in my country for example.’
‘For sure,’ he agreed amiably. He knew it infuriated Dominic that his father had overridden his objections and granted Nathaniel all the necessary permissions. ‘But I think you will need to use a different example with which to make your point. I always purchase the land itself for any development I undertake.’
Nathaniel was over halfway through the construction of a hotel and business complex that would be Monte Cleure’s highest landmark. It was his most ambitious project to date, a skyscraper of magnificence and beauty. Architect Monthly magazine had declared it a potential contender for Building of the Decade.
So far he had invested one hundred million euros in the development and fully expected to spend the same amount again by the time the project was complete.
‘Now why don’t we stop all this pussy-footing around and you tell me why you’re here, and then I can go back to bed?’
‘My sister.’
‘Which one?’ he asked with a nonchalant shrug, although his head immediately began to whirl.
Dominic swelled up like an overinflated balloon, and his eyes grew cruel and dark. ‘Catalina.’
Nathaniel made sure to keep his features neutral.
He hadn’t breathed a word about his night with the Princess. Not to anyone. He didn’t for a moment think Catalina would have spoken of it either, not when she had her virginal reputation to protect. From the moment she’d admitted him into her room she’d made it clear it was something that could never be spoken of or alluded to.
It had been the perfect one-night stand, one in which there would never be any danger of the woman waking in the morning and dropping casual hints about getting together another time.
He’d left Catalina’s room as the sun had risen, both of them knowing their goodbye kiss would be their last.
What they’d shared had been one incredible night that could never be repeated.
Dominic had to be here on a fishing expedition. His spies had probably reported that Nathaniel and Catalina had danced together at Helios’s wedding.
He hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t attended Helios and Amy’s Coronation last week. A few discreet enquires had determined that she’d had a stomach bug...
Something cold snaked up his spine.
He leaned back in his chair and inhaled. ‘What about her?’
Dominic’s eyes glittered with malice. ‘She’s pregnant.’
CHAPTER TWO
NATHANIEL’S HEART SHUDDERED to a halt.
His brain whirled and it took a few beats before he found his voice. ‘Catalina’s pregnant?’
Immediately his mind flew to those first glorious moments when he’d abandoned an adulthood of protection to enter her unsheathed.
What had he been thinking?
This could be a joke. A trap. It was no secret that Dominic hated him. Their mutual loathing had been a fixture of their lives since their schooldays.
‘Yes, you sick playboy. My “virgin” sister is pregnant and you’re the father.’
The way Dominic emphasised the word virgin made Nathaniel’s fingers itch to punch him. He restrained himself, sinking onto a sofa, hooking one ankle over his knee and folding his arms loosely across his chest in a pose he knew would infuriate the Prince far more than physical threats of violence.
‘What makes you think I’m the father?’
‘She’s admitted it. She sent one of her companions to get a pregnancy test for her. A different companion—one with more loyalty to the House of Fernandez—was suspicious and found the box hidden in her rooms. She informed me immediately.’
Every curse Nathaniel had ever learnt in every language he’d ever been taught flew through his mind.
‘Catalina took the test yesterday morning. Our personal physician did an additional test that also came back positive. Merry Christmas. My sister is pregnant and you’re the father.’
‘Where is she?’ He would not take Dominic’s word for anything, let alone something of such importance. ‘I want to see her.’
‘She’s at the palace. As you can imagine, the news quite ruined Christmas for us.’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’
Dominic gave a cruel smile. ‘Father and I have discussed the matter in great detail. Catalina can still have a future within the House of Fernandez but first we need to contain this situation. You will be required to marry her for a limited time to legitimise the child.’
Nathaniel laughed.
Was it possible he was locked in some alcohol-induced nightmare?
‘Oh, I’m being very serious.’ Dominic finally took a seat, spreading his leg
s out in a way meant to convey dominance. ‘You will marry her or you will find the title deeds to your development revoked and the building repossessed by the palace. The Ravensberg building will also be repossessed.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
Dominic paused before answering, clearly unnerved by Nathaniel’s placid tone. ‘I’m simply telling you of the consequences. I can have you removed from Monte Cleure at the snap of my fingers.’
‘I’m sure you can.’
A malevolent expression spread over the Prince’s face.
‘The stupidity of some people really does astound me.’ Nathaniel shook his head sadly. ‘To think someone would threaten to take away land legally bought and bring a halt to a development that will boost Monte Cleure’s economy exponentially... Why would someone make threats like that? If word was to get out that land legitimately purchased could be snatched away at the whim of a despot ruler, who would want to invest in such a place? Why would someone put their whole economy in peril?’
Dominic turned puce. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to confiscate your land and expel you from our country and to hell with the consequences. We would recover from any short-term financial hit. However, my father will not allow a bastard to be born into the House of Fernandez. Catalina has brought enough shame to our family in recent months...’
‘What, by ending her engagement to Helios?’ Nathaniel said scornfully, cutting him off. ‘Was she supposed to marry him knowing he loved someone else?’
‘We both know Helios ended it, whatever the world was told. If Catalina had done her duty and held his interest she would never have been dumped for a common whore and would now be Queen of Agon.’
How Nathaniel stopped himself from punching Dominic square in the face he would never know.
‘Your sister has spent her whole life doing her duty.’
‘Clearly not or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’ Dominic straightened in his chair. ‘And it’s not just Helios—Father had found another suitor for her.’
‘The Swedish duke?’ He felt fleeting satisfaction at the way Dominic’s lips tightened with displeasure as he realised Nathaniel was privy to private palace information.
Claiming His Christmas Consequence Page 2