Sudden panic streamed through her and she pushed it down. She was contemplating marriage to Frederick, for goodness’ sake—so panic over a mere two days was foolish, to say the least. She needed to focus on Amil.
She glanced across at Frederick, wondering how he must feel about taking Amil out. Perhaps she should ask, but the question would simply serve as a reminder of the fact that he had missed out on the first fourteen months of his son’s life.
So instead she faced forward and maintained silence until the limo pulled up outside the hotel.
* * *
Frederick stood outside the hotel bedroom door. His heart pounded in his chest with a potent mix of emotions—nervousness, anticipation and an odd sense of rightness. In two minutes he would meet Amil. Properly. Terror added itself to the mix, and before he could turn tail and flee he raised his hand and knocked.
Sunita opened the door, Amil in her arms, and he froze. He didn’t care that he was standing in the corridor in full sight of any curious passers-by. All he could do was gaze at his son. His son.
Wonder entered his soul as his eyes roved over his features and awe filled him. His son. The words overwhelmed and terrified him in equal measure, causing a strange inability to reach out and hold the little boy. His emotions paralysed him, iced his limbs into immobility, stopped his brain, brought the world into slow motion.
Determination that he would not let Amil down fought with the bone-deep knowledge that of course he would. He wasn’t equipped for this—didn’t have the foundations to know how to be a parent, how not to disappoint.
But he would do all he could. He could give this boy his name, his principality, and perhaps over time he would work out how to show his love.
Amil gazed back at him with solemn hazel eyes and again panic threatened—enough that he wrenched his gaze away.
‘You OK?’ Sunita’s soft voice pulled him into focus and he saw understanding in her eyes, and perhaps even the hint of a tear at the edge of her impossibly long eyelashes.
‘I’m fine.’
Get a grip.
He had no wish to feature as an object of compassion. So he kept his gaze on Sunita, absorbed her vibrant beauty, observed her change of outfit from casual jeans and T-shirt to a leaf-print black and white dress cinched at the waist with a wide red belt. Strappy sandals completed the ensemble.
‘Bababababa!’ Amil vouchsafed, and a well of emotion surged anew.
‘Do you want to hold him?’
‘No!’ Think. ‘I don’t want to spook him—especially just before the photo call.’
It wasn’t a bad cover-up, but possibly not good enough to allay the doubts that dawned in her eyes.
‘You won’t. He’s fairly sociable. Though obviously he doesn’t really meet that many strange me—’ She broke off. ‘I’m sorry. Of all the stupid things to say that took the cake, the biscuit and the whole damn patisserie.’
‘It’s OK. I am a stranger to Amil—that’s why I don’t want to spook him.’
His gaze returned to the baby, who was watching him, his eyes wide open, one chubby hand clutching a tendril of Sunita’s hair.
‘We need to go.’
‘I know. But first I have a couple of questions about the press conference and the Kaitlin question.’
Frederick frowned. ‘What question would that be?’
‘A couple of reporters said, and I quote, that you are “broken-hearted” and that perhaps I can mend the chasm. Others have suggested you would welcome a dalliance with an old flame as a gesture, to show Lady Kaitlin you are over her.’
‘I still don’t understand what your question is.’
‘Two questions. Are you heartbroken? Are you over her?’
‘No and yes. I need to get married for Lycander. My heart is not involved. Kaitlin understood that—our relationship was an alliance. When that alliance became impossible we ended our relationship. Since then she has met someone else and I wish her well.’
Sunita’s expression held a kind of shocked curiosity. ‘That’s it? You were with her for months. You must have felt something for her.’
Momentary doubt touched him and then he shrugged. ‘Of course I did. I thought that she would be an excellent asset to Lycander.’
Kaitlin’s diplomatic connections had been exemplary, as had her aristocratic background. She’d had a complete understanding of the role of consort and had been as uninterested in love as he was.
‘I was disappointed when it didn’t work out.’
‘Yes. I see that it must have been tough for you to have the deal break down.’ Sarcasm rang out from the spurious sympathy.
‘It was—but only because it had an adverse impact on my position as ruler.’
And that was all that mattered. His goal was to rule Lycander as his brother would have wished, to achieve what Axel would have achieved. Whatever it took.
‘So all you need to know about Kaitlin is that she is in the past. My heart is intact.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And now we really need to go.’
A pause and then she nodded. ‘OK. This is our chance to change the mixed reaction into a positive one. An opportunity to turn the tide in our favour.’
‘You sound confident that you can do that.’
‘Yup. I’m not a fan of bad publicity. Watch and learn.’
One photo call later and Frederick was looking at Sunita in reluctant admiration. He had to hand it to her. By the end of the hour she had had even the most hostile reporter eating out of her hand. Somehow she had mixed a suggestion of regret over her actions with the implicit belief that it had been the only option at the time. In addition, she had managed to make it clear that whilst two years ago Frederick had been a shallow party prince, now he had morphed into a different and better man, a worthy ruler of Lycander.
No doubt Marcus had been applauding as he watched.
Hell, even he had almost believed it. Almost.
‘You did a great job. And I appreciate that you included me in your spin.’
‘It wasn’t spin. Everything I said about you was true—you have worked incredibly hard these past two years, you have instigated all the changes I outlined, and you do have Lycander’s future at heart.’
The words washed over him like cold, dirty water—if the people of Lycander knew where the blame for Axel’s death lay they would repudiate him without compunction, and they would be right to do so. But he didn’t want these thoughts today—not on his first outing with Amil.
He glanced down at Amil, secure now in his buggy, dressed in a jaunty striped top and dungarees, a sun hat perched on his head, a toy cat
