Chapter Three #2
Something else had replaced the shock of learning her real identity.
A spurt of adrenalin. Excitement. Caius had had no reason not to deduce that if she had come to him then clearly she still wanted something.
Him. Maybe she’d realised she’d been too quick to walk away.
Maybe she wanted to continue what they’d shared that night.
Feeling as if he was on firmer ground since the moment she’d walked into his office—for the first time in weeks—Caius had sat back in his chair and when she’d looked back at him, he’d smiled at her and noticed how her eyes had flared and widened. A response that had merely confirmed his suspicions.
‘I’m pleased that you came.’
She’d swallowed visibly. ‘You are?’
He’d nodded, and smiled wider, a smile that had never failed him before. ‘Yes, because I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. Clearly we still want each other, and I see no reason why we can’t pick up where we left off.’
And at that moment the plane landed in Valdere with a jolt and but not even that could pull Caius from the past, because, contrary to his arrogant assumption that Poppy had wanted to see him again, that was when she’d dropped the bombshell, saying, ‘I came here today not because I wanted to see you again but to tell you I’m twelve weeks pregnant. With your baby.’
For a long moment the words had hung in the air between them. Benign. And then, Caius had said hoarsely, ‘We used protection. I used protection.’
‘Evidently it failed.’
‘Not possible.’
‘Statistically, yes, it is possible. Can you be certain it didn’t fail?’
Caius had felt that sting of exposure again to acknowledge that he’d been so hot for her that he obviously hadn’t paid as much attention as he might have usually.
‘Your Highness?’
Caius looked up at the air steward. He realised he was scowling and rearranged his expression. ‘Yes?’
The steward cleared his throat. ‘Um, we’re here, in Valdere. If you want any help changing into your wedding suit, please just call me.’
Caius had arranged to have the wedding suit brought on the plane. He’d planned on changing before landing but the memories had haunted him the whole way across the Atlantic ocean.
He emitted a curse and undid his seat-belt buckle, standing up and heading for the bedroom where the suit was laid out. He could see SUVs waiting outside. Sleek. With the flags of both Sadat Sur Mer and Valdere fluttering in the warm breeze. They might as well be prison vans.
The fact that in spite of everything he was somehow still destined to be a king was ironic in the extreme. Of course, he’d challenged Poppy on the assumption that he was the father.
‘How do you know it’s even mine? You weren’t shy that night, you must have had other lovers.’
‘For your information,’ she’d gritted out, two spots of red high in each cheek, ‘you were my first and only lover.’
Caius had looked at her. And then he’d let out a bark of laughter in sheer disbelief.
She’d looked insulted. ‘What is so funny about that?’
He’d stopped laughing long enough to say, ‘Because virgins are about as mythical as unicorns. How old are you? Twenty-five? Where have you been? Under a rock? You’re a beautiful woman, it’s impossible you were still an innocent.’
To Caius’s surprise, he’d seen something like hurt cross Poppy’s face before she’d stood up and was almost at the door of his office before she’d stopped and turned around. ‘I didn’t come here to be ridiculed.’
Caius had been so shocked to see a woman walk away from him—for the second time—that it had taken him a moment to realise what was happening and go after her.
He’d taken her to his apartment because even if she had been lying about the baby, about her innocence, it was clear he had to know what her agenda was because he had slept with her.
As for whether or not he was the father, he’d had to concede uncomfortably that he did believe her because Poppy and her people had shut down engagement talks before he’d had to abdicate.
So if she was just looking for a convenient baby daddy, he wasn’t going to be top of the list, which made it more believable that he was likely to be the father.
When Caius had realised that, he’d waited for a sense of panic to hit.
A sense of rejection. But it hadn’t come.
What he had felt was something more ambiguous.
He’d always known he’d have to have children but he’d seen it as a necessary duty and he’d vowed to himself he would do his best not to put them through the same emotional trauma his parents had inflicted on him and his sister.
Caius had been pretty confident that, with choosing the right woman to be his queen and with the best staff money could buy, his children couldn’t possibly fare any worse.
But Caius was no longer a king. He no longer had to play by those rules.
He’d said, ‘If the child is mine, and of course that will have to be proved with a DNA test when it’s born, how do you want to proceed? We can come to some arrangement.’
Against the backdrop of his Manhattan apartment Poppy had looked at him and her eyes had widened. ‘The child? You mean your son, or daughter.’
Caius hadn’t liked the little jolt he’d felt in his gut to think of that. ‘I am aware it could be a child of either sex.’
‘You are going to be involved with your son or daughter, in a meaningful way. Not just as a financial support.’
‘What are you saying exactly?’ But even as he’d asked that he’d already known what she would say.
Because it was the only option for people like them.
He was still considered royalty even if his blood was more diluted than previously believed.
He’d been born into privilege and the knowledge that one day he would rule.
The fact that he could be free of that heavy burden of duty was a concept he’d still been getting his head around. The fact that he wouldn’t have to be responsible for bringing a child into this world for one reason only—to be of service and continue a bloodline—had been liberating.
Except that had no longer been the case.
So when Poppy had said, ‘Well, that we will be married, of course,’ Caius hadn’t so much as flinched.
Because he and Princess Poppy of The House of Valdun were not normal people.
They came from a world where their actions were held up to the public and scrutinised and discussed.
They came from immense privilege and wealth and this was their due.
To be held accountable for moments of weakness.
His newfound sense of freedom had already been dead in the water.
And then he’d remembered something and pointed at her. ‘You did this on purpose, because you can’t become queen until you marry.’
She’d gone pale, but two spots of colour had been high in her cheeks. ‘I did not set out that night to sleep with you, or conceive. Believe it or not, I have a little more integrity than that. I would never choose deception as a means to bring a child into this world.’
‘Yet you hid your idenitity.’
‘I already told you why I went incognito.’
Yes, she had. And Caius had had that unfortunate conversation in her earshot. He’d also just conveniently forgotten that she’d rejected him before he’d had to abdicate.
Something inside him had deflated. She hadn’t tried to trap him but she was evidently pregnant.
It would be a small matter to confirm the DNA when the child was born but Caius had known the chances of her lying were slim.
No one would invite the backlash that such a discovery would bring, and she didn’t strike him as the type to invite that kind of notoriety.
And he’d known that, after his own experiences, he could never let any child of his be born and grow up questioning their place in the world, or their identity.
They would know who their father was and where they came from. And that was the only reason he was here today to marry Poppy Valdun. They were to be married for a minimum of five years. She’d wanted for ever. He’d wanted one year. They’d compromised.
He’d figured that five years would give the child a chance to feel settled and secure and then Caius would have no problem cutting ties with the marriage and seeking out his freedom again.
He would of course maintain contact with his child—they wouldn’t suffer because of his moment of ill judgement.
At least his child would know who their parents were and even though he didn’t know Poppy all that well, he somehow sensed instinctively she would be a better mother than his own had been. So, as far as he was concerned, his kid was already winning at life.
As for them, him and Poppy? That one night had had too many consequences to even think about repeating. And they didn’t need to. She was already pregnant.
The fact that Caius still wanted her was an inconvenience, but one that he was sure would fade as soon as they spent time together. That was usually the best solution for killing any desire he had for a woman.
He stood at the door of the aeroplane and looked at the driver standing next to the open door of the nearest SUV down on the tarmac. Time to get married.
‘Poppy?’
Poppy turned around to look at Stephen. She’d completely forgotten he was even here, so lost in her thoughts and memories. But reality came crashing back. ‘Yes?’
‘Prince Caius has landed. He’s on the way to the church. We should get moving.’
Poppy’s insides clenched. He’d come. He’d overcome his resentment and anger for this whole situation and had come to marry her. For the sake of a baby he couldn’t stop calling it, or, the child.
He hadn’t been here himself in the run-up to the wedding but his staff had been on hand to help and money had been no object. Poppy supposed she had better get used to the message he was sending loud and clear—he would be available only for the absolute minimum of interaction.
Steeling herself for what lay ahead, Poppy drew herself up straight and said, ‘You’d better tell Clotilde and her team to come back in and finish getting me ready.’
As the glam team filed back in and started fussing around her, putting the tiara on her head and attaching the veil, something glinted in the reflection of the mirror and she lifted her hand to look at the antique diamond engagement ring.
Caius had had his people send over a selection of rings from the Sadat Sur Mer vaults and she’d chosen this one.
Something about it had called to her, in its simplicity.
A circular diamond in a square platinum setting with tiny emeralds on each side.
She dropped her hand. So much for a romantic proposal.
They couldn’t be more removed from that.
Poppy put her hand over the still discreet bump.
Her belly seemed to be growing daily and she knew that she would do anything for the baby within.
Her son or daughter would not know the awful rejection she’d faced just because of her sex.
She would do better and she vowed that Caius would do his bit too.
At least with a guarantee of a minimum of five years of marriage, their son or daughter would have both parents in their life for the formative years.
She pushed aside the voice that reminded her she’d had both her parents until she was six, not that it had proven all that beneficial in the end.
She tried to ignore the memory of the hurt she’d felt when Caius had made it apparent he wanted to marry for only a year. He’d eventually compromised. He couldn’t have made it more clear that he would prefer to be dragged over hot coals than marry her.
As the veil was arranged over her face, obscuring the room around her, Poppy thought to herself that now all she had to do was navigate the next five years living with a man who resented her.
Maybe even hated her. Not a problem. She’d done it her whole life with her father. Another few years would be nothing.
‘Ready?’ It was Stephen’s voice.
No, Poppy thought, suddenly dreading seeing Caius’s stony expression, but she pushed it down. She couldn’t be weak or show any vulnerability. That was why she was here in this situation and that was how you got hurt.
‘I’m ready.’