‘I have some savings. I’ll take time off. Morning sickness doesn’t last forever.’
‘And after the baby comes, how do you expect to keep working when you have a child to care for?’
‘Like plenty of other woman in my situation do. I’ll cope.’
‘Not with my child. Simply coping is not an option. How long do you think you’ll keep the origins of your baby secret?’
‘Your mother obviously managed to.’
‘More than thirty years ago when there was still a measure of respect for privacy. Whereas these days, any hint of scandal, any hint of a royal baby born out of wedlock and the paparazzi will come baying at your door. How long do you think you can hide the truth?’
‘I won’t tell anyone if you won’t!’
‘And when I marry and have a wife and a family, and then the truth inevitably comes out because of something the doctor today tells his secretary or his wife, you would be happy to humiliate the woman I married with the news that I already had a child? How do you think that would look splashed across the gutter press? How do you think this child will feel when he learns that he was the rightful heir of Montvelatte and you denied him that birthright?’
‘Why do you assume it will be a boy?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Girl or boy, you will be denying this child its place in the Montvelattian monarchy.’
‘Only if it finds out. And who is going to tell?’
His arms came down on the bed either side of her, his face bare inches from her own, and it was all she could do not to cower back into the pillows at the anger and pain so starkly reflected in his features.
‘I will tell. Do not think you can deny me access to my child simply because you would rather forget who his father is. I am not like my father. I will not abandon a child I sired or hide it away merely because I was not married to its mother.’
Sienna watched his eyes while he made his speech, watched the way the pain coursed so deeply through them. He’d missed out on having a father all his life. He’d been cast away, exiled with his mother, unwanted by the father who’d sired him.
And he was right. One way or another, no matter how close she played her cards to her chest, there was no way she could shut Rafe out of her child’s life. But in allowing Rafe access to her child, there was no way its parentage could ever be kept secret.
So where did that leave her?
It was all too much to take in. She’d only just discovered she was pregnant, and now he was demanding that she marry him, a man she’d spent one short night with and the last twenty-four hours trying to get away from, a man who would, without a second thought, bully her into a marriage she neither wanted nor needed.
A shotgun wedding, just like her mother’s. Except this time there were no parents holding a gun to Rafe’s head to persuade him to do the right thing by their daughter. This time it was Rafe holding a gun to her head.
Was it because it was the right thing to do by their child? Or was it simply because it was convenient to him?
Either way, his wanting to marry her clearly had nothing to do with her.
‘You can’t make me do this.’ She’d wanted to sound strong and sure but her voice came out sounding more like a plea.
‘It’s the only thing to do. I’ll inform Sebastiano and have him make the necessary arrangements.’
The necessary arrangements? Rafe had it sounding like a royal wedding was no more hassle than a trip to the local corner store.
‘No! I haven’t agreed to anything. You can’t make me do this.’
‘You have no choice.’
‘I have a choice! I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.’ She scooted to the other side of the bed, swinging her legs over the side and pushing herself off, but he was already there, standing in front of here like a storm cloud, angry and potent and thunderous. But the hand he put to her face was gentle and warm, and she trembled into his touch. His eyes studied her face, his thumb traced the line of her lips, and her heartbeat jagged, and when his words came, it was more a promise than a threat.
‘Leave and I will bring you back. Run and I will catch you. There is no escaping the truth of this, Sienna. You will marry me. You will become my wife.’
She looked up at him, afraid to blink, afraid to breathe, lest she broke this spell he’d somehow woven around her. How long he stood there stroking her face, how long she allowed him to, she didn’t know. And only the sense that she was losing herself, spinning out of control into a place with no horizons, into a place she had no way of navigating her way out of, shot a burst of fear straight to her heart.
‘There has to be another way,’ she whispered.
His hand cupping her jaw, he dipped his face to hers and pressed the barest of kisses to her lips. ‘There is no other way.’
Sebastiano wasn’t so sure. He took the news of the cancellation of the remaining marriage candidates and the reason with the look of a man heading for the gallows. ‘Are you sure this is wise, Prince Raphael, to marry such a woman? The role of Princess of Montvelatte is a demanding one. What background and training has this woman had in the skills necessary to undertake such a role?’
‘I would imagine the same amount of training that I received in becoming Montvelatte’s Prince. And yet nobody questioned my qualifications.’
‘You have royal blood, Highness. There is a difference.’
‘And she carries it!’
His aide gave a brief cough into his hand, too pointed to miss. ‘You have something to say, Sebastiano?’
‘Merely that I think it would be wise to guarantee that fact before we make any announcements.’
Rafe had no doubt. The way she’d reacted to his accusations, the way she’d apologized and promised to keep it quiet—he had no doubt at all. But Sebastiano needed facts, and it was better that they did the digging before some gossip magazine got there before them. ‘Arrange for whatever tests you need—even a date will help to confirm the truth—and meanwhile find out all you can about her—her past, her boyfriends, and anyone she’s seen apart from me in the last eight weeks.’
Sebastiano nodded, looking more satisfied than he had all day, and gave a little bow. ‘It will be done.’
Rafe watched him take his leave and felt a pang of regret that one had to be so careful, knowing it had to be done, and knowing equally that if there was any dirt to be had on Sienna Wainwright, Sebastiano would dig it out.
He just hoped there was none.
Sienna picked up the telephone in the library and listened for a dial tone, hoping that, unlike the phone in her room, this one would not be switched through to the housekeeper. Satisfied, she nervously dialled the direct number of her boss at Sapphire Blue Charters and waited what felt like agonizing seconds for the call to be answered.
She’d
