Harlequin Romance April 2021 Box Set

by Rebecca Winters

  ‘I want to be there when my child grows up. I remember having two parents, but I also remember what it was like growing up with a single parent. And I have experience of rearing children, because I’ve acted as a parent to my little sister.’

  ‘I know you gave up university for Saoirse.’ Vittoria dragged in a breath. ‘But you said you didn’t want to get involved with anyone, that you didn’t want to settle down and start a family, because you wanted to focus on your career.’

  ‘Which is correct. But I’m at a place in my career,’ he said, ‘where I don’t have to chase after people. I can set the parameters. So I’ll accept appointments for shoots only when my child is at school.’

  ‘What if a shoot overruns?’

  That was an easy one. ‘They won’t. The contracts will have the kind of penalty clauses that’ll make even the most difficult of clients stick rigidly to the schedule.’

  ‘What if the shoot’s abroad?’

  He shrugged. ‘Either I’ll turn the job down, or I’ll reschedule it for a time when my child is staying with you.’

  ‘You’d give up your career for the baby.’

  ‘I’d work around my baby,’ he corrected. ‘Which makes it the best of both worlds. It means my baby has a dad and will know he or she is dearly loved; and meanwhile my career carries on as I planned.’

  She frowned. ‘But you said you didn’t want responsibilities.’

  ‘That was then. The situation’s different now. Like it or not, we made a baby. And that’s a game-changer.’

  * * *

  Where had this hard, cold stranger come from? There wasn’t a hint of a smile in those cornflower-blue eyes. Where was the man who’d told her that her smile was like sunshine, the man who’d carried her up two flights of stairs to her bed?

  And why did he keep calling the baby his child? The baby was theirs. And she was the one who was carrying the baby, not him.

  ‘Do you have a problem with that?’ he enquired.

  Yes. She had a lot of problems with it.

  And he hadn’t even asked her how she was feeling—if she’d got morning sickness, if she was bone-deep tired all the time, if her feet were puffy or if maybe she wanted a hug because she was tearful and struggling to deal with the hormones.

  Nothing.

  Obviously she’d just been a fling to him. Casual. Meaningless.

  And all that business of quoting poetry at her, at making her laugh in the bluebells and holding her close on the beach, kissing her under the stars—it had been mere flirtation to him. Just sex. Nothing deeper.

  What a fool she’d been.

  Particularly as he’d even told her straight out that he didn’t do relationships. He’d been honest with her. She’d been very stupid to think her news might change his mind.

  Well, it had changed his mind.

  Just not in the way she’d expected. It seemed that now he wanted the baby—but he didn’t want her.

  And that hurt.

  That really hurt.

  She’d thought he understood her. That they’d had a connection. But she’d been oh, so wrong.

  He hadn’t suggested trying to bring the baby up together. Because he didn’t love her? Or because it was the same situation as Rufus all over again—that he didn’t want to be constrained by the restrictions of a royal lifestyle?

  She’d never thought of herself as a coward, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him if they could work this out together. She didn’t want him to see her as his duty. She wanted to be loved. And she couldn’t see a single sign of love in the man facing her across the table.

  A queen never shows her feelings, she reminded herself. Cool, calm, collected. That was the order of the day.

  ‘I’ll give the palace lawyer your details. Perhaps you can put her in touch with your lawyer and they can come up with a workable solution between them,’ she said, standing up and pushing her chair back. ‘I don’t think there’s anything left to say. Goodbye, Mr MacCarthy.’ She just about resisted a sarcastic, ‘Have a nice day.’

  And she walked out of the meeting room with her chin held high, every inch the princess. Because she wasn’t going to give Liam MacCarthy the satisfaction of crying her eyes out and begging him to love her and their baby, so he could reject her all over again.

  * * *

  Liam stayed where he was as the door closed behind her, feeling as if he’d just been squashed by a steamroller.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Two weeks ago, he’d spent a few days in a secluded cottage near the beach with a woman who’d made his heart beat faster: a woman who was out of his reach, but he’d wanted her anyway. The more he’d got to know her, the more he’d liked her and the more he’d found himself falling in love with her. To the point where he’d broken some of his own rules and carried her to bed on that last night.

  They were from different worlds. He knew that. She had responsibilities she couldn’t walk away from—well, technically she could walk away, but he knew she loved Izzy and wouldn’t dump those responsibilities on her sister. And he didn’t come from a world where you needed a bodyguard, or where the world was watching you all the time, waiting for you to put a single foot wrong. But he’d hoped that maybe they’d find a way to bridge that gap—that they’d find a way together. He’d started flirting with her by photographs, and he’d been delighted when she’d flirted back. It had given him hope that they might just have a chance of working things out between them.

  But then she’d closed off. He’d assumed her silence meant she’d thought about it and changed her mind.

  And now she’d summoned him for a royal audience. There was no other way to describe what this meeting had just been.

  According to her, he had the right to the knowledge that she was expecting his baby, but he didn’t need to be involved with the child in the slightest. She’d suggested that his lawyer should get in touch with hers to come up with a workable solution.

  It made him so angry that he wanted to punch something.

  This was a baby they were talking about, not a piece of property.

  If she was going to take that kind of attitude, why hadn’t she just communicated through her lawyer in the first place? Or delegated the task to the palace secretary? Why had she asked him to meet her face to face?

  He had no idea. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want him. That night under the stars, she’d told him she wanted a partner who loved her—a partner she loved back.

  Obviously, she hadn’t meant him. That flare of desire between them had been just that: desire. Sexual attraction. Nothing that involved deeper emotions. He’d been stupid to hope otherwise.

  If she’d wanted him, she would’ve said so. Or at least shown some warmth. But she’d been every inch the unapproachable queen-to-be. She wanted to communicate with him only through their lawyers.

  And he was shocked to realise how much that hurt.

  Vittoria was expecting his baby. They could have made a family—something he knew they both missed. And for a second he could almost see their child at the beach, building a sandcastle: a little girl with her mother’s smile and amazing eyes, and his own unruly hair. Vittoria herself, barefoot and smiling at the scene, her knees drawn up and her hands clasped loosely by her ankles. A dog next to her, with his chin resting on her feet. Himself, capturing the joy of the moment with his camera, and then going over to his wife and kissing her...

  He blinked the vision away. Stupid. It wasn’t going to happen like that. And how utterly ironic that he’d only realised what he really wanted when it was completely out of his reach.

  * * *

  ‘Where to now, ma’am?’ Giorgio asked.

  ‘The airport,’ Vittoria said.

  ‘I’ll have the car brought round,’ he said. ‘Do you need anything while we wait?’

 
Yes. She needed Liam. But he’d made it clear he didn’t want her. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  She didn’t say a word on the drive back to the airport. She just about remembered to thank the driver—being a royal meant having good manners, not being rude and entitled and taking things for granted.

  To her relief, the private flight meant using a different entrance to the airport and an extremely quick boarding time. Although their flight time couldn’t be moved, being on the plane was much better than being stuck waiting in the airport. One step closer to home.

  ‘Rina.’ Giorgio almost never used her pet name, but right at that moment he took her hand and was looking concerned, almost like a big brother. ‘I might be speaking out of turn, but is there anything I can do?’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m fine,’ she fibbed.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve known you for more than a decade.’

  She knew what he was being too tactful to say. The last time she’d been this upset was when Rufus had walked out on her. For a moment, she considered confiding in her security detail—but it wouldn’t be fair to burden him.

  ‘OK. I’m not fine,’ she admitted, ‘but I will be.’ She’d have to be fine. There was no other choice.

  Their country might not approve of her being a single mum, but they’d all have to make the best of it. And she’d have to learn to stop yearning for something she couldn’t have. Stop wishing for love. Maybe her mother and grandmother were right after all; for a royal, an arranged marriage was the only workable option. This whole thing with Liam had underlined that a relationship with someone not from a royal background would only end in tears.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WITH HIS SISTER in Edinburgh, it meant Liam didn’t have to put on an act and pretend nothing was wrong. He could just go straight into his darkroom and bury himself in work—because at least if he did something where he had to concentrate, he wouldn’t have the headspace to think about Vittoria. Vittoria and their baby.

  At least, that was the theory. In practice, he couldn’t concentrate, and even developing some simple prints appeared to be beyond him. Everything he touched went wrong and he had to repeat everything.

  Eventually, there was a tight band of tension across his eyes, and he had to acknowledge defeat. But when he went downstairs to make himself some coffee, he could hear chattering—and he could smell pizza.

  He walked into the kitchen. ‘I thought you weren’t due back for a couple of days?’ he said to Saoirse.

  ‘I wasn’t. But it seems I have a job interview in a couple of days, so we came home early.’ She walked over to him and hugged him. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yes.’ The lie was automatic. He glanced at Izzy. Did she know about the baby? Did Saoirse? Did they know Vittoria had come to London today, so that was the real reason why they’d come back early?

  Probably not, he thought, or one of them would’ve said something by now.

  This was a mess. Fighting with Vittoria wasn’t making either of them happy, and it would hurt their sisters, too.

  He didn’t even know where to start unpicking this and making it right. Maybe he needed to sleep on it.

  ‘So, what’s this interview?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s at the V&A—in the department where I worked on that exhibition.’

  She’d loved that, he remembered. To the point where she’d added more textile modules into her degree. ‘And the interview’s in a couple of days? They’re not giving you much notice.’

  ‘The notification was in my spam box,’ she said. ‘Luckily I had to check something else and found it. So I’m home early to give me some time to do the prep.’

  ‘Well, it’s good to have you home. I missed you.’ And he meant it. Though he was glad she hadn’t been there when he’d come back from that meeting with Vittoria, feeling bruised and rejected and utterly miserable. ‘When do you plan to go back to San Rocello, Izzy? Or are you staying in London for a bit?’ It was like picking at a scab, and he only just stopped himself asking her when she’d last seen her sister or when she was going to see her again. Whether she could maybe make Vittoria see sense...

  ‘I’m staying in London for a bit,’ she said. ‘While I was away, I was offered an internship with a design agency.’

  ‘And your family’s OK about it?’

  She nodded. ‘I talked to Rina about it. Being her, she asked me all kinds of awkward questions—to make sure I was doing the right thing for me. She’s scary when she’s in Winter Queen mode.’

  Something like he’d seen today. ‘Uh-huh,’ he said.

  ‘She doesn’t mean it when she’s being all cold.’

  Didn’t she? ‘How do you know?’ The question came out before he could stop it.

  ‘When I was younger, sometimes I thought she was freezing me out—and later I realised she was doing it to protect me,’ Izzy explained. ‘There was this one time, when I was fifteen, and I desperately wanted her to take me to this party because I knew this guy in her set, a guy I really fancied, was going. She flatly refused and went all Winter Queen on me. Every time I knew he was going to be somewhere she was going, I asked her to take me. She always refused and froze me out when I tried to discuss it with her. I resented it for months. But about a year later I heard a rumour about him. It seemed he wasn’t very good at understanding the word no. Rina knew I liked him, but she also knew I was too young to listen to her warning me off him—that I’d probably think I could change him—so instead she froze me out. She refused to take me to any social events with her, so I wouldn’t be anywhere near him and risk being alone with him. She did it to protect me.’

  Freezing Izzy to protect her...

  Vittoria had frozen him, this afternoon. Completely.

  And that still hurt. He turned the subject back to art, until Izzy left for her own flat and Saoirse had gone to run herself a bath.

  And then, when he was alone, he let himself think about it.

  Vittoria had frozen him out after he’d sent the bluebell picture.

  Was there something about bluebells that might have upset her?

  He couldn’t think of anything. So what, then? Had she not known how to reply?

  He couldn’t work it out.

  But he did know she’d planned to talk to her family about the arranged marriage. And there was the fact that she was pregnant. Did any of her family know about the baby? Or was he the first person she’d told?

  He thought about it some more. Was she freezing him out to protect him, the way she’d frozen out Izzy to protect her? Did she have to marry the Spanish duke’s son, after all?

  No. That didn’t feel right.

  He was missing something—like when you cropped a photograph in the wrong place. What was in the gap?

  He flicked through the photographs in his private portfolio and found the one of Vittoria in the library: the bookworm, the woman who lit up around words. Another of her at the beach, when she’d been looking for fossils and beachcombing without a care in the world. Another, in the bluebell wood.

  And then there was the portrait that was only in his head: the woman who’d woken in his arms.

  All of those pictures were warm.

  None of them—not even the formal ones he’d taken for the palace—was like the woman he’d faced today. The scary Winter Queen.

  Had today been an act?

  He’d taken her words at face value, and he’d been hurt and angry. But had he misunderstood?

  He thought about it.

  Vittoria was facing a dilemma that countless women had faced before her: an unplanned pregnancy. It was the twenty-first century and attitudes towards single parenthood had changed—unless you were a royal. The new queen being a single mum would cause a massive scandal in San Rocello.

  What choices did she have?

  The obvious one was a
termination. But she’d made it clear that she planned to keep the baby.

  And she wouldn’t step down from taking over from her grandfather, because she’d spent years in training to be queen. And Liam knew she felt the same way about her little sister as he did about his: a fierce, protective love. She’d never just dump her responsibilities on her little sister and expect Izzy to take over as the queen. Apart from the fact that Izzy had never had the training, Izzy wanted a career in art. Vittoria would support her.

  She’d love the baby, too. Her ‘resources’ weren’t just financial. Of course she’d want her child to have a different upbringing from her own—one where the baby felt loved and valued for him or herself, not just because this child was next in line to the throne.

  And she’d been well aware that if Liam was her partner, he’d have to give up his career and the life he’d worked so hard to make for himself. So had she pushed him away so he didn’t have to choose between the career he wanted and the family he’d said he didn’t want? Had she given him what she thought he wanted—what he’d told her he wanted?

  But now he realised that wasn’t what he wanted. At all.

  He wanted her. He wanted their baby. He wanted to make a family with her.

  And he needed to tell her.

  The only thing was, if he phoned her he had the strongest feeling she’d let his call go to voicemail and push him to talk to her solely through their lawyers.

  Izzy had been her normal self with him today, which he didn’t think would be the case if she knew about the baby and what a mess he’d made of seeing her sister today. It wasn’t his place to break the news to her, so he couldn’t ask for her help in setting up a meeting with Vittoria.

  But there was one person who might be able to help.

  He grabbed his phone and dialled the number.

  ‘Mr MacCarthy?’

  ‘Yes. Mr...’ Liam realised then that he didn’t actually know Giorgio’s surname. ‘Giorgio. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I need your help.’