Chapter Eight #4
Looking down into her lovely face, he thought about the PR image she often projected, contained and calm, and in control.
The perfect palace spokeswoman. But she wasn’t always contained and calm and in control.
She’d kissed him as if he contained all the air she needed to breathe, and she’d got angry with him, shoving him as if he weren’t the King, as if he were just a normal man.
And when they were talking about work, and she was into the ideas they were discussing, she got animated and excited.
That was who she was deep down, he understood suddenly. She was a bright and stubborn spirit, who’d pulled herself ruthlessly in line to meet the expectations of people who didn’t even care about her.
That rankled. It was unfair and it was wrong, and it was…
Familiar perhaps? Isn’t that what you do? Keep yourself ruthlessly in line to meet your own expectations?
But there was nothing wrong with that, surely? His expectations of himself were high, it was true, but shouldn’t they be? He wasn’t in charge of just himself, but an entire country.
‘You’re not her, though,’ he said after a moment. ‘What you are is yourself. And you don’t need to be anyone other than that.’
‘Aren’t I, though? Sleeping with a man who was married at the time? And then having his child…’ She let out a breath, the warmth of it whispering over his skin. ‘I’m…not Carlotta,’ she said, a little hesitantly. ‘I’m not trying to sabotage the—’
But Isandro had heard enough. The doubt in her voice made the pain behind his breastbone even worse, so he reached down and took her chin, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes. ‘I don’t think you’re Carlotta,’ he said. ‘Why would you think I would?’
Her gaze had darkened. ‘Because I haven’t exactly been good, have I? A good person wouldn’t have had sex with you on that desk.’
He stared at her. Did she really think that she wasn’t a good person?
That one mistake made her irredeemable? ‘Wren,’ he said softly.
‘You’re the best person I know.’ And he understood that it was the absolute truth.
An inescapable truth. ‘You never had a bad word to say about Carlotta, for example, even when she was at her worst, and you treated her with nothing but kindness. And you shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened between us.
I mean it, little bird.’ He touched her lip gently with his thumb.
‘One mistake doesn’t mean you’re your mother.
If you truly were, you’d have had the child and left it with me. ’
She didn’t look away, a slightly challenging glint in her eyes. ‘Are you sorry that I didn’t? That I didn’t go and leave the child with you?’
The question caught him around the throat and for a second he found himself thinking of finding his newborn heir in a basket outside the palace gates, with Wren nowhere to be found.
Another person leaving you…
His chest ached and ached, but then of course he would be sorry if she left. A child needed their mother and he cared about Wren as much as he was able. He liked spending time with her, and he certainly enjoyed having sex with her.
‘No,’ he said and meant it. ‘I would be sorry if you did go.’
‘Why?’ Another blunt, direct question.
‘Because I’d miss you, and so would the child.’
‘But then you wouldn’t have to marry me. You could choose someone you actually wanted to be with.’
Again that tight squeeze around his throat, an iron band around his chest as he forced himself to think about that. To think about what would have happened if he hadn’t stopped Wren at the airport. If she had actually gone.
You wouldn’t have been able to bear it.
But he didn’t like that thought, so instead he said, ‘Why are you asking me this? That’s not what happened.’
‘I know that. But…’ She shifted on him, turning away and sliding off his lap.
‘This is my point, Isandro.’ She bent and picked up her dress, putting it on over her head without bothering with the underwear, before turning to face him.
‘Is this something you would have chosen yourself? A marriage founded on necessity? Because that didn’t make your parents happy, and it didn’t make you or Carlotta happy, either.
And that’s not what I want for you or for myself. ’
Isandro frowned, not understanding what she was getting at. ‘We can’t change the facts, Wren. It will be a marriage founded on necessity. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy.’
But she only stood there in front of him, her arms folded, giving him a direct, level stare. ‘Answer the question.’
He let out a breath. She wasn’t going to like his answer one bit. Another unpalatable truth. ‘Fine. No, I wouldn’t have chosen this for myself. I wouldn’t have married you if not for the baby.’
Her expression tightened. He’d hurt her, as he’d expected he would, but she’d wanted the truth and so he’d given it to her.
Is it really the truth, though?
Of course it was. He wouldn’t have even thought to marry Wren if she hadn’t been pregnant. Perhaps she might have become his mistress until he married again, but he wouldn’t have chosen her for a wife.
‘I thought so,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘At least you were honest with me.’
‘Wren.’ He reached out to her, but she was already turning away.
‘I have to go,’ she said as she headed towards the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow night.’