nowhere to go. The corridor led down to the manicured part of the garden, with a fishpond and perches for the wild birds that ornamented the trees. But its fringes descended into the thick, dense jungle that cloaked the island in its tight embrace. There was no escape.
The stone tiles gave way to grass, cool and damp in the evening dew. She ran a few steps, then felt a strong arm catch her around the waist, almost knocking the breath from her lungs. The baby! If he knew about it he’d never have grabbed her there. But he couldn’t know.
She wriggled, instinctively trying to free herself, but his grip was too strong. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her from behind. “Lani, stop running. We need to talk.” Her nerve endings snapped with the desire to run on, but she knew it was hopeless. “I know you’re scared but we’re in this together.”
His deep voice reverberated in her ear, oddly soothing. But she didn’t want to say anything. What else could she say but I’m pregnant. Yet she’d sworn to keep the baby a secret.
“I didn’t intend to spring the whole thing on you. It took me by surprise as well.” He turned her in his arms until she stood facing him, no longer pressed against him, but with a couple of inches of warm air between them.
She tried to ignore the strange sensations in her breasts and belly, the odd pulses of desire that only worsened the strange situation. “I thought you were going back to L.A.”
That’s what she’d hoped for, though she hadn’t dared admit it to herself until just now—when the possibility was gone.
He frowned, features angular in the cool moonlight. “I did, too.” He drew in a long breath. “But tonight, surrounded by all those people, the air thick with our island’s past and heavy with its future, I knew my place is here. I couldn’t shirk my responsibility and still live with myself.”
Lani nodded. Again that little kernel of pride throbbed inside her. AJ truly was a man of honor. “Rahiri is lucky to have you,” she managed. The words sounded hollow, empty. Shame he wasn’t so lucky to have her, a woman who intended to keep a huge thing secret from him for the rest of her life. If she told him, though, he wouldn’t be king. She’d break Priia’s already suffering heart and put the entire burden of the monarchy’s future on herself and her unborn baby. And she’d still be expected to marry again.
AJ’s frown deepened. “I’ll do my best to be a good husband to you.”
He softened his grasp on her arms. He’d been literally holding her in place—preventing her from running off again—and perhaps he realized the grip was at odds with his soothing words.
Lani wobbled slightly on her feet. “I’ll do my best to be a good wife.” Her words hung in the still night air, the lie echoing off tree trunks and winding itself around them like a vine.
How could she be a good wife if she deceived him about the paternity of the child he’d raise?
Lani’s golden eyes shone with anxiety—and why wouldn’t they? AJ’s chest tightened. This poor girl had no say in her own fate. Of course she could refuse him, but she was far too polite and kind for that. He could have offered to take the crown but refused to marry Lani, but for some reason he knew marrying her was the right thing to do.
Maybe it was that first kiss?
In the kiss all pretense had fallen away. All the tension had evaporated and there was nothing left but… passion. Could that happen again now that they were pledged to each other for life?
Lani’s chin tilted high as she met his gaze. She looked so earnest, determined to meet her fate bravely. Everything seemed so awkward.
His synapses tingled as he contemplated kissing her. Perhaps that would cut through all the layers of ceremony and nerves and anticipation and jump-start the connection he’d felt between them that first night. “I have an idea.”
Dark lashes lowered, she looked coyly away, like a young girl who’d never been kissed. But he knew better. Somewhere beneath that demure surface lurked a smoldering cauldron of passion that he ached to taste again.
“What?” she murmured, daring to glance up.
He replied by lowering his face to hers. He did it slowly, to give her a chance to react and respond in her own time. At first she flinched slightly, as if to dodge him, then she seemed to steel herself and tilted her lips to his.
Their lips met like opposing magnets coming together, pulled by an unseen force. A shock wave of desire crashed through AJ as Lani’s mouth opened to greet his. Her body softened and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. Heat gathered between them and his skin hummed with awareness of her body. His fingers itched to tug at the embroidered fabric of her dress and pull it away to reveal smooth, golden skin.
Her mouth tasted like warm honey, delicious and inviting. He deepened the kiss, trailing his fingers down her spine. Lani kissed him back, tongue reaching for his, her arms wrapped around his waist and her slim body straining against him.
But something was different.
Her actions lacked the sense of raw abandon he remembered from their first kiss. No breathless moans pierced the night air. Her fingertips pressed into the muscles of his back, but with a forced quality, not the fevered intensity he remembered.
He pulled away slowly. Lani’s eyes opened, and he noted their look of curious alarm. Did she wonder if she’d put on a good enough show of passion?
AJ fought the urge to frown. It didn’t help that they were out here in the dark garden, while all the guests still drank and talked inside. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.” Then they could talk in private and get more used to their new situation.
“Okay.” She blinked. Quiet and accommodating as usual. Would he ever know what went on in her mind, behind that polite smile?
He took her arm and they walked down the corridor. “We won’t be missed at the party. They’ll have more fun talking about us if we’re not there.” He shot her a smile.
“Yes.” Her arm felt rigid in his.
AJ led her through the lamplit passages of the private quarters of the palace and into his private sitting room. It adjoined the bedroom; no one would come to disturb them here. The guests would stay until dawn, then stumble drunkenly to their chauffeured cars.
Priia had redecorated the room in his absence, in a simple, masculine style that he rather liked. No doubt now he’d be expected to move into the royal bedchamber, but there was no way he’d spend the night in a room where Lani had once slept with Vanu.
He gestured to a low chaise covered in soft leather. Lani perched stiffly on the edge of it.
“Would you like some wine?” He gestured to the stocked bar in one corner.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” Her rushed response surprised him. He moved to the cabinet and poured a glass for himself. He sat next to Lani on the sofa, each of them upright, formal, painfully separate. Even his favorite vintage tasted slightly bitter on his tongue.
What had he got himself into?
He set his glass down. “You don’t have to marry me, you know.”
Lani’s
