asleep. He was someone she’d loved being around.
Too bad all of it had been a lie.
The man in front of her now was the Sebastian that appeared on the news. The one with a fixed smile and his arm around someone else.
That was what it was. That was what she’d always noticed. Even though she’d tried not to watch him on the news—she’d tried to always switch channel—on the few occasions she had seen pictures of him, something had never seemed quite right.
She’d always tried not to look too closely. Her heart wouldn’t let her go there. Not at all.
But little things were falling into place.
The smile had never reached his eyes.
Now, the look in his eyes seemed sincere. His tone much softer. ‘You can be whatever you want to be, Sienna. I’d just like you to do it as my wife.’
This look was familiar. She’d seen it so many times on the weekend they’d spent together. In between the flirting, fun and cheekiness there had been flashes of sincerity.
That had been the thing that made his untruthfulness so hard to take.
The room was starting to feel oh-so-small.
‘Why didn’t you call me later?’
It didn’t matter that she’d just sipped some water. Her mouth felt dry. He wasn’t going to let this go. He was calling her on it.
She licked her lips. ‘I wanted to. I thought about it. But we didn’t exactly exchange numbers. How easy is it to call a royal palace and ask to speak to the Prince?’
He shifted a little uncomfortably, then shook his head. ‘You could have asked Oliver. You knew we were friends. He was the one who recommended you. He would have given you the number whenever you asked.’
‘And how would that work out? “Oh, Oliver? Can you give me Seb’s mobile number, please? I want to tell him that I’m going to ruin his engagement by letting him know I’m pregnant. You know, the engagement to his childhood sweetheart?” At least that’s the way it sounded in the media.’
He smiled. He actually smiled.
‘You think it’s funny?’
‘No. Not at all. But that’s the first time you’ve called me Seb since I got here.’ He stepped forward.
She sucked in a breath.
She hadn’t even noticed.
Seb was too close again. She needed some space, some distance between them.
He touched her arm. Her bare skin almost caught fire. There was no opportunity to flinch or pull away. His palm surrounded her slim wrist. ‘I’ve told you. It was never like that with Theresa. We just didn’t think of each other that way. And we’d never been childhood sweethearts. We were friends. Just friends.’
‘You’ve told her about the pregnancy?’
He gave a little grimace. ‘Not exactly. Not yet anyway.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I wasn’t quite sure how to put it.’
‘You were sleeping with us both?’
She couldn’t help it. It just came out.
‘What? No.’ Sebastian shook his head again. ‘I’ve never slept with Theresa. I’ve told you. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. I don’t sleep with my friends.’
She hated the way that relief flooded through her. The sincerity was written all over his face. He might have lied by omission before but she was certain he wasn’t lying now.
She met his gaze. ‘How will she feel when she finds out? It will look to the world as if you’ve made a fool of her. As if we’ve made a fool of her. I hate that. I don’t want anyone to think I’d have an affair with someone else’s man.’
He sucked in a deep breath and reached up towards her face. ‘But I wasn’t in a relationship with Theresa. I was single. I was free when we were together. And if I’d known you were pregnant I would never have let my parents force me into announcing an engagement.’ His hand brushed her cheek and his fingers tangled in her hair.
This was what he’d done when they’d been together. This was how he’d pulled her into that first kiss.
The touch should have been mesmerising. But his words left her cold.
Forced. He’d never really mentioned his parents in their short time together.
‘They forced you? I didn’t think you’d let anyone force you to do anything.’ There was an air of challenge in her voice.
He recognised it and raised his eyebrows. He gave her a half-smile. ‘You haven’t met my parents—yet.’
It was her first truly uncomfortable feeling. The King and Queen of Montanari. They wouldn’t like her. They wouldn’t like her at all. She’d ruined the plan to unite the neighbouring kingdoms and was going to give Montanari an illegitimate heir. Her face was probably currently fixed to a dartboard or archery target in their throne room.
‘And are they forcing you to do this too?’ The words came out in a whisper. Every muscle in her body was tensed.
Duty. That was what she was sensing here.
He might be sincere. But there was no love—no compassion here. Tears threatened to fill her eyes. She licked her dry lips and stepped back, out of his hold. He hadn’t answered her question and she couldn’t quite believe how hurt she felt.
‘I think you should go back to Montanari, Sebastian. I’ll let you know when the baby arrives and we can sort things out from there.’
He looked surprised, his hand still in the air from where he’d touched her hair. He stared at it for a second, then shook his head. ‘Who says I’m going back to Montanari?’
She concentrated on her shoes. It was easier than looking at him. ‘Well, you will, won’t you? You’ll have—’ she waved her hand ‘—princely duties or something to do. You can’t stay here. There’s been enough tittle-tattle about who the father of my baby is. The last thing I want is for someone to realise who you are and gossip about us. I’m the talk of the steamie already.’
He shook his head in bewilderment. ‘The what?’
‘The steamie. You know—the washhouse.’
He shook his head. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you know what? Just keep talking. I’d forgotten how much I loved the sound of your voice.’
Ditto.
‘The steamie. It’s a Scottish term for an old washhouse—the place where people used to go and wash their clothes before everyone had washing machines. It was notorious. The women used to always gossip in there.’
‘So, that’s what we could be? The talk of the steamie?’
She
