Her Prince's Secret Son. Линда Гуднайт
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He quelled the memory of his lips against those eyelids and the feel of her lashes tickling his skin. “Oh, I think you do.”
Her chin hitched up. “No, I don’t. All I know was that your father fell ill and you had to return home. You promised to be in touch, but I never heard from you again.”
Had he not known the lengths to which his mother had gone to contact this woman, he would have believed her lies.
“Nor did I hear from you.”
You didn’t even bother to contact me about the child you were carrying. My child. But he left those last words unspoken. He would let her lies continue while she backed herself into a corner. Then, when she met Nico, she would be forced to admit her transgression and agree to his demands.
“How could I contact you? You weren’t even honest enough to tell me who you were or where you lived. I thought you lived in Italy. I thought your name was Aleks Gabriel.”
He stepped down from the raised dais where his desk was situated. “Enough!”
“Don’t ‘enough’ me, Mr. Prince. I’m not one of your subjects. I demand to know what’s going on. Why the outlandish ruse to get me here?”
“Ruse?”
“Don’t play dumb. I didn’t win any all-expense-paid vacation to a health spa.”
“Are you certain of that? Have you not been treated well by my staff? Did the masseuse and hairdresser not visit your rooms? Do you not have a personal attendant at your beck and call?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“And this treatment shall continue for the duration of your stay. Whatever you need is at your disposal.”
She blinked again, confusion warring with the need to assert herself. Aleks felt victory at hand. A confused enemy was easy to defeat.
Feeling in total control now, his emotions ruthlessly in check, he moved to her side and reached for her hand. The skin was incredibly soft and silken and every bit as cold as he’d known it would be. As cold as her soul.
Sara snatched her hand away and glared at him.
Teeth tight, he took her elbow and forced her to stand.
“Come. I want you to meet someone.”
“Who?” She tried to pull away again but Aleks held tight to her arm, propelling her to the door.
“I think,” he said through gritted teeth, “you will be greatly surprised.”
Sara’s knees trembled as Aleks’s strong fingers dug into her skin. She recalled all the times he’d placed his hand exactly there, guiding her with such courtesy and grace across campus, into a movie or a restaurant, into a car. But today, his hold was impersonal, even cruel.
Her head spun with the impact of the last few minutes. She could hardly take everything in. For a brief moment, she had entertained the hope that Aleks had brought her here to set the past straight. As furious as she was that he would contact her now when it was too late, and as much as she wanted to hate him for all the anguish she had gone through, Sara could not deny that she was still very much attracted to the man who even now rushed her past stiff-backed guards, over marbled floors and down a furnished hallway to an elevator.
Everyone they passed stopped working to pay respects to their ruler, and Sara felt the curious stares of each one fall on her, as well.
Saints alive, the man who’d left her pregnant and penniless was a prince. She couldn’t take it in. Her Aleks, the man she’d loved, the man she’d given her innocence to, was a wealthy, powerful prince. He could have easily cared for her and their baby even if he had no longer wanted her. Surely, he would have wanted his son.
Why, oh, why had he left without a word?
The bitter taste of gall rose in her throat. It was too late now. Her baby was gone and Aleks would never know what he’d thrown away. Her stomach rolled with nerves and fear and loss. She wanted to stop at a restroom and throw up.
But Aleks seemed mercilessly unaware of her distress as he thrust her into a gleaming brass-and-mirrored elevator. The door pinged shut and he loosened his grip to push a number.
She’d dreamed of him for so long and now here he was, in the flesh. But oh, that flesh was hard and unyielding, not warm and loving as she remembered.
He loathed her. That much was evident. But why? He was the one who’d abandoned her.
She longed to ask, but right now she was still in shock and if she admitted it, more than a little unnerved. Something was very wrong here and until she understood, she would play her hand very close to the vest.
During the entire elevator ride, Aleks stared straight ahead at the closed doors, avoiding eye contact, and said not a word. He was as stiff and cold as an icicle but still as handsome and dynamic as ever.
But the years had altered him. Where he’d been a charming, carefree college student, engrossed in getting his master’s degree while embracing sports and cars and the American college life, today he was a solemn man with hard eyes.
He was so near, this man who’d broken her heart that she could feel the tension in his frame and smell the fabric of his navy blue jacket. But he was also as far away as her bookstore.
She should be demanding her release, filing a kidnapping complaint, or at the least, slapping his royal face. But here she was noticing the added lines around his mouth, his beautiful, dark skin, and remembering the time he’d buried them in autumn leaves and they’d kissed and cuddled in their leafy hideaway, content to be together and so completely in love.
Or at least, she had been.
“I never knew you at all, did I?” she whispered, surprised that she had spoken aloud.
Aleks slowly turned his head and stared at her with those icy eyes. “Ours was a brief romance. A fling I think you Americans call it.”
A fling. The word seared her heart like a hot iron against tender flesh. She’d given him everything she had to give. And he called their love a fling.
How could she have fallen for a man who had deceived her so badly? He had not only walked out with little explanation but he’d never been honest with her from the beginning.
He was a royal prince, but she was a royal fool.
The elevator eased to a stop and the doors slid open. Aleks stepped aside, holding the door with one hand while motioning with the other for her to exit. She did so, her mind reeling.
Who could he possibly want her to meet? Why was she here? And why didn’t he just tell her what was going on?
The floor they stepped out on was similar to the one where her suite of rooms was situated. A long, carpeted hallway lit by sconces and new lighting—a fascinating mix of old and modern—was guarded by a pair of uniformed men. Stunning murals graced the vaulted ceilings. Tapestry and gilded paintings lined the