were three floors up. The glass atrium dome above them and the Christmas decorations directly underneath them. People flowed all around them. The Royal Cheltenham Hospital was world renowned. People begged to work here. Posts were fiercely contested. Three other surgeons she respected and admired had interviewed for the job that she’d been appointed to.
That had been the best call of her life.
She sucked in a breath. Teddy’s was her life.
She loved her job, loved the kids, loved the surgeries and loved the people.
A gust of icy wind blew up through the open doors downstairs. The chill felt appropriate.
The kids’ book character in front of her right now was threatening all that.
Would she really get any peace once people found out her child was the heir of Montanari?
Her hands went protectively to her stomach. ‘What happens once he or she arrives?’
He looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’
So much was spinning around in her head that the words stuck in her throat. After her childhood experiences she’d always vowed to be in charge of her own life, her own relationships and her own destiny.
Finding out she was pregnant had only made her sway for a second or two, then it had just put a new edge to her determination to get things right.
She’d made so many plans this Christmas—almost as if she were trying to keep herself busy. Carolling. Helping on the children’s ward. Wrapping presents for army troops stationed away from home. Oh, her house was decorated as usual, and she opened the doors on her advent calendar every day. But she’d pictured spending this Christmas alone so was scheduled to be working over the holiday. She hadn’t counted on Sebastian being around.
Seb was still standing straight in front of her, looking at her with concern in his eyes. He reached up and brushed her cheek with the gentlest of touches—the most tender of touches. It sent a whole host of memories flooding through her.
Seb. The man she’d shared a bed with. The man who kissed like no other. The man she’d thought was someone else entirely.
The man who’d thought he could walk in here and sweep her off her feet.
She shivered. She actually shivered.
‘What are the rules in Montanari? Did you propose to me because an illegitimate child can’t inherit the throne?’
He shook his head. ‘No. No, of course I didn’t. And no. There’s no rules like that in Montanari. I’m the heir to the throne, and my firstborn son, or firstborn daughter, will be the heir to the throne once I’m King.’ He gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head. ‘But let’s face it, it would be much better if we were married.’
‘Better for who?’
He held up his hands, but she wasn’t watching his hands, she was watching his face.
‘Better for everyone. I have a duty—a duty to my people and my country. I want to introduce our son or daughter as the heir to the throne.’ His gaze softened. ‘And I’d like to introduce you as my wife.’
She had an instant dual flashback. One part caused by his word ‘duty’. An instant memory of just exactly how both her parents had felt about their ‘duty’ and the look of absolute relief on her father’s face as he’d packed his bags and left. The second part was caused by the first. A memory from months ago—those first few weeks when apparent morning sickness had struck at any second of the day or night. She wanted to be sick right here, right now. Right over his brown boots.
Duty. A word that seemed to have an absolute chilling effect that penetrated right down to her soul. Every time she heard people use the word in everyday life she had to try and hold back her instant response—an involuntary shudder.
Her insides were curled in knots. He’d just told her he wanted to marry her—again.
But not for the right reasons.
It didn’t matter that her back had ached these last few days, she drew herself up to her full height and looked him straight in the eye.
It was almost like putting blinkers on. She wouldn’t let those forest-green eyes affect her in the way they had before.
‘I have a duty. To myself and to my child. We aren’t your duty. We belong to ourselves. No one else. Not you. Not your parents. Not your people. I spent my childhood watching two people who should have never got together barely tolerate each other.’ Fire was starting to burn inside her. ‘What did you get for your eighteenth birthday present, Sebastian?’
The question caught him unawares. He stumbled around for the answer. ‘A car, I think. Or a watch.’
‘Well, good for you. Do you know what I got? I got my father packing his bags and leaving. But that didn’t hurt nearly as much as the look of complete relief on his face. As for my mother? Two months later she moved to Portugal and found herself a toy boy. I can honestly say I’ve never seen her happier.’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘I did that to them, Sebastian. I made two people who shouldn’t have been together spend eighteen years in what must have been purgatory for them.’ She shook her head fiercely. ‘I will never, ever do that to a child of mine.’
Sebastian pulled back. He actually pulled back a little.
She’d done it again. Twice, in the space of two days, she’d raised her voice to Sebastian in a public place. Perfect. The talk of the steamie again.
But she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t finished.
There was no way Mr Fancy-Watches-For-His-Birthday could sweep in here and be part of her and her baby’s life.
While she might have had a few little day dreams about the guy who was engaged to someone else, her reality plans had been way, way different.
This was why she’d negotiated new hours for the job she loved. This was why she’d visited four different nurseries and interviewed six potential childminders. This was why she’d spoken to her friend Bonnie—a fellow Scot who’d transported to Cambridge—on a number of occasions about how best to handle being a single mum.
This man was messing with her mind. Messing with her plans.
She didn’t need this now. She really didn’t.
She held up her hand. She knew exactly how to get rid of him. And not a single word would be a lie.
‘I don’t want this, Sebastian. This isn’t my life. This isn’t my dream. I will never, ever marry a man out of duty.’ She almost spat out the word.
She lifted her hands towards the snow-topped atrium. ‘When, and if, I ever get married, I’ll get married to the man I love with all my heart. The man I couldn’t bear to spend a single day without in my life. The man who would walk in front of a speeding train for me or my child without a single thought for himself—just like I would for him.’ She took a few steps away from him. She was aware that a few people had stopped conversations around them to listen but she was past the point of caring.
‘You don’t know me, Sebastian.
