Chapter Nine
Sophaya
Dominic stares at me in silence. I’ve never seen him dressed so casually, but the black jeans, white shirt and leather jacket work, feeding into the bad boy image I first envisioned when I learned an ex-Army Ranger would be my private bodyguard for the foreseeable future.
My heart is thundering so hard I’m not even sure I’d hear if he said anything right now. But his lips haven’t moved. He hasn’t moved at all, not even so much as a blink. Did he hear me? Is he in shock?
Finally, his chest rises on the slightest of inhales. “I see.”
I return his stare for a shocked moment. Fury rises up inside me as seconds pass without another word.
This is the final confirmation I needed. The last bit of proof I needed that the plan I made back in Siravelle is the right one, for me, my child and my country.
Gathering strength, drawing on my shock and my anger and, yes, a small stab of hurt, I raise my chin and strive for calmness.
“I’m afraid I bear the responsibility for this.
My doctor informed me the herbal supplement I was taking to help me sleep while touring Europe can cause interference with the birth control pill. ”
“So what happens now?”
I breathe out. He’s not angry. Granted, I would have preferred a little more of a reaction. But at least there’s one small blessing in his indifference.
“For you, nothing.”
The mood in the room changes in an instant. Dominic doesn’t move, but I can feel the sudden tension gripping him. I nearly shrink away from the sight of his eyes hardening into chips of stone. “Nothing?” His voice is soft, lethal.
“I wanted to tell you in person. I apologize for my cryptic text, but I didn’t want to risk sharing anything that could be obtained by the media.
” I leave out my doubts about not being sure whether he’d show up or not if he knew my reason for being here.
“You made yourself clear in Venice regarding your feelings about relationships and commitment in general, so you needn’t worry about that.
I’ll be getting married in a few weeks—”
He’s across the room in an instant, shocking me into silence as I back up and run up against a wall.
“Who?” His question whispers across my skin as he towers over me.
Irritation has me straightening my shoulders and making myself as tall as possible, which still leaves me nearly ten inches shorter than him. But if Dominic thinks he can intimidate me, he’s in for a surprise. “None of your—”
“Who?” he demands, planting his hands on either side of my head, caging me between his muscled arms. I hate the threads of heat that ignite, burn through me as he lowers his head until his lips are so close it would only take a slight movement on my part to kiss him.
Two months apart, and all I can think about is our bodies tangled in bed, sweat-slicked skin pressed together as we uncovered each other’s deepest secrets.
“Don’t you dare try to threaten me, Dominic Hawke.
” I wrap ice around me like armor, sink into the cold that’s more like home to me than anything else since my grandparents died.
It’s constant, steady, numbing. “I’m navigating a labor strike, a shortage of staff at one of our most rural hospitals and enduring weekly meetings with an increasingly hostile Minister of the Interior. You don’t scare me.”
“I don’t give a damn about political prowess.” He leans down, his face coming within inches of mine. I hate the sensual thrill that runs down my spine at his nearness. “Give me a name.”
“I don’t have a name yet.”
If the situation weren’t so dire, I’d laugh at the sudden confusion on his face.
“What?”
“Do you want to ask why and where, too?”
“Don’t get cute with me, Princess.”
“My aide is creating a list of potential candidates who would consent to marry me and claim the baby as their own.”
The confusion evaporates, replaced by barely suppressed fury. “Over my dead body.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“If you think I’m going to let another man claim my child as his, you’ve lost your royal mind.”
A headache starts to build, a dull throb that quickly grows into sharp little pickaxes digging into my skull.
I plant my hands on his chest and shove.
It’s like trying to move a damn mountain, but after a moment he steps back, his arms dropping to his sides.
I brush past him, trying to find some sense of calm as I mentally plead with my body to not betray me.
Throwing up in front of my one-time lover and father of my child is not what I need right now.
“There’s no other option.” My world tilts a fraction. Not much but enough to make me feel dizzy. “I must be married before the pregnancy is announced.”
The nausea hits hard and fast. I double over, clutching my stomach as a long, low moan escapes.
“Sophaya!”
Dominic scoops me up into his arms and strides through the penthouse like he owns it.
“Put me down.” Instead of an imperious tone ringing with authority, my voice comes out weak and whiny.
His arms tighten around me. “Forget it.” He moves into the bedroom and gently sets me down. One hand cups the back of my head, gently eases me down onto the mound of pillows. “Are you taking anything for nausea?”
“Ginger tea.” I scrunch my eyes shut as the dizziness worsens. “Lemon drops.”
“Do you have any?”
“Lemon drops in the nightstand. Tea in the kitchenette,” I manage to gasp out.
I hear the drawer softly whooshing open, followed by the crinkling of a wrapper. “Here.”
I force my lips to open.
Dominic places the lemon drop on my tongue. The tart sweetness fills my mouth.
“I’ll be right back.”
Minutes pass. Gradually the nausea starts to subside, as does the dizziness. I finally open my eyes just as Dominic walks back in with a steaming mug.
He eases himself down onto the edge of the bed and slides one arm around my shoulders, gently helping me sit up. “Slow sips.” He holds the mug up.
I hesitate. I don’t like this. Don’t like being so vulnerable, dependent on someone else, especially when this is short-lived. Once Dominic and I straighten this mess out, we’ll never see each other again.
“Drink.”
I allow him to press the rim of the mug against my lips. The first taste feels like heaven. Gradually I sit up on my own and accept the mug from him.
He stands and moves over to the window.
“Thank you.”
“You said there was no other option.”
I stiffen as my other hand settles on my stomach. “I’m keeping the baby.”
He waves a hand. “I meant about getting married.”
“Oh.” My breath comes out on a long, slow sigh. “No. There is no other option.”
Dominic nods once. “I see.”
“I know this isn’t ideal. But by doing this, you’ll be free to pursue your own life. You won’t be tied down to me or the baby.”
Dominic crosses his arms as he leans against the window. “You’ve forgotten one option, Princess.”
I frown. “What?”
“Marry me.”
Dominic
Sophaya gapes at me. When she doubled over and uttered that terrible moan, I tasted a bone-deep fear I’ve never experienced before. Yes, I’ve been scared. But never like that.
Now, though, she no longer looks like a corpse. There’s a spark in her eyes, one that tells me I’m in for a fight.
I knew as soon as she told me she was marrying someone else that I wouldn’t let that happen.
But the fear when she nearly passed out confirmed what I already knew I had to do.
The idea of another man claiming my son or daughter makes me want to wrap my fingers around the phantom intruder’s neck and squeeze.
Just as the idea of that man touching Sophaya, especially when she’s carrying our child, makes me want to lock the door to the penthouse, close the curtains and keep her hidden. Safe.
I stop that train of thought. I’m thinking with my emotions, not logic. Yes, the baby changes everything. But just because my life is about to change doesn’t mean I have to cede control. If anything, I need more of it.
Regret lances through me. Sophaya deserves more than I’ll ever be able to offer.
She deserves someone who can care about her, even love her.
But given that she was about to sell herself to the highest bidder, I can offer the next best thing; our child having its real father in their life.
And Sophaya will have a man who will support her in her royal role just like I did during the time I served as her bodyguard.
And there is no way in hell I’m not going to be a part of my child’s life.
“Are you insane?” she finally says, her incredulous tone letting me know that’s exactly what she thinks. But I’ve never felt more certain of anything in my life.
“You’re not marrying someone else.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Is it possible?”
She frowns. “What?”
“Is there a law or edict saying you can’t marry a commoner?”
Her frown deepens. “No.”
“Then I fail to see the problem.”
Color blooms high in her cheeks. I’m grateful for it. As I watch it spread through her face, I’m reminded of the same blush stealing over her when we made love.
I curl my hands into fists. What kind of a selfish bastard am I? She nearly passed out, and I’m thinking about sex.
“The problem,” she grinds out, “is you don’t comprehend the enormity of what marrying a royal entails.”
“Try me.”
“Whoever I marry will have to move to Siravelle and take on the title of Prince Consort.”
I manage not to frown, but just barely. Aiden and Cassian will never let me live it down.
“Your life will revolve around the palace and the country.” Her voice softens. “You could retain ownership of Hawke Security, but you couldn’t lead. Couldn’t take on jobs.”
The thought of not being in charge of Hawke Security anymore is a hard blow.
But not being involved in my child’s life takes precedence over anything, including my firm.
I won’t become my parents, won’t abandon my child the way they left me.
Ever since I took to the streets, I showed up for those who depended on me.
Now, when it matters more than ever, I will not shirk my duty, no matter the cost. “And?”
Her eyes widen. “You’d give it up? Just like that?”
“Yes.”