Surprise Packages

by Layla Valentine

  Well, that’s fine. I’m not here to sell him out to his family or the press. The only one I want to tell the truth to is Alex himself.

  Chapter 11

  The drive to the ocean is surprisingly calm once we get out of the city. Without the hectic motion of other cars rushing around us, the speed at which Alex drives isn’t so nerve-wracking.

  I sit back in my incredibly comfortable leather seat and take in the beauty of Avaran. It’s a region of low-lying mountains with rolling green fields leading up to them. Now and then we pass an orchard and the smell of lemons permeates the air. A part of me wishes I was just here for vacation, with no stressful responsibilities to take care of. It really is a beautiful place.

  Of course, my ability to just relax and soak up the scenery is somewhat compromised by the fact that Alex is sitting next to me. My body is so aware of his. It feels like every cell in me is reaching for him, trying to close the distance between us. My hand is still warm from being wrapped in his.

  Every few minutes, he glances my way. Each time we make eye contact, a stupid grin comes over my face. I can’t help but smile. He smiles too, every time, but is he smiling for the same heart-pounding reasons I am? Or is he just returning the expression on my face?

  Eventually Alex parks outside a large white house with a screened-in, wraparound porch. I stare at it out the window.

  “I thought you said we were going to a cottage.”

  “This is it,” he says.

  “This isn’t a cottage; this is a mansion!”

  He shrugs. “We just call it the cottage.”

  I shake my head and climb out of the car. “I was picturing something small and quaint. Are you sure there’s nobody here?”

  “Definitely,” he says. “No one’s allowed to come to the cottage without a contingent of royal guards. It’s a whole production.”

  “We’re here without any guards,” I point out.

  “It’s different,” he says. “We’re just here for the day. For a few hours. If we were planning to stay, we’d have had to go through security procedures.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you want to take a walk?” he asks. “We can go down the beach a bit and talk. Or we can go inside, if you’d rather, and get something to drink.”

  I take one more look at the big, imposing house. I don’t want to go inside yet. I’m having enough trouble getting my bearings here in Avaran, where all the architecture feels foreign. To go into a building that belongs to the royal family and make my confession in their space would be downright intimidating.

  “The beach,” I say.

  The beach is familiar. It reminds me of home.

  He nods and starts off, slowly, letting me set the pace.

  I wait a moment, hoping he’s going to take my hand again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes off his shoes and picks them up so he can walk down to the surf and drag his toes through the water.

  After a moment, I follow his lead.

  The beach here isn’t like the ones in LA. The sand is rougher, a little rockier, and the waves are smaller and gentler. Even though being on the beach is a familiar feeling for me, I’m surprised by how different it is.

  The extent to which this is not my beach, not even my ocean, is very apparent. And suddenly it seems representative of everything that’s happened to me lately. How quickly my life has changed, and how completely out of my element I am. If someone had said to me two months ago that I’d be walking down a beach next to a European prince and trying to work up the courage to tell him I was having his baby…well, I wouldn’t have been able to fathom how such a thing might happen.

  And yet, here we are.

  Alex speaks first, after we’ve come several yards.

  “So what are you doing in Avaran?” he asks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course, but I have to admit I thought I’d seen a ghost when I first spotted you in the reception hall.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, taken aback. “I told you what I was doing.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he counters with his eyebrows furrowed.

  “I definitely did.”

  I’d told him I’d come to talk to him. I remember it clearly, because it was a difficult thing to say, not knowing how he would respond to my presence. I remember my relief at realizing that he wasn’t judging me for coming or wishing that I would go away.

  Maybe he was too surprised to see me. “I told you I came to see you.”

  “I know that’s why you came to the palace,” he says. “But I meant why are you in the country in the first place? Are you working? You’re not filming here, are you?”

  He misunderstood me, I realize. I told him I came to speak to him. I thought he understood. Didn’t he even say “you came all this way?” What was that supposed to mean, if it wasn’t an acknowledgment of the fact that I flew here from California to talk to him? Could he really have just been referring to the taxi ride over from my hotel?

  I suppose he very well could have. Maybe I should have been more clear. But now I’m going to have to tell him all over again, and it’s going to be that much harder because I’ve allowed myself to relax. Because I thought part of the hard work was already over.

  I turn away from him and face out to the sea for a moment. I’ve already done most of what I need to do. I’ve made the trip, which was a huge leap of faith since I didn’t even know whether I’d be able to see him once I got here. I’ve been to the palace, faced down the snotty receptionist, and by sheer luck, managed to actually gain access to Alex. If he hadn’t just happened to walk into that reception area at that very moment, I’d still be there arguing that I needed to see him. So far, everything that could have gone wrong has gone right instead.

  But now I’ve reached the most crucial point. It’s time to start the truth-telling, and I have no idea how he’s going to respond. I can feel myself shaking, anxious and terrified. But I’m not going to turn back now. I just have to rip the Band-Aid off.

  I take a deep breath and release it slowly, hoping my voice will be steady when I speak.

  “Actually, I came to Avaran to see you.”

  He seems not to register what I’m saying for a moment. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I don’t have any other reason to be here,” I say. God, my hands are shaking. “I’m not here for work or on vacation or anything like that. I came to see you.”

  He’s quiet for a long moment. Too long. I can’t look up from the sand. I dig my toes into the beach as if I’m getting a grip on the earth, desperate not to be washed away. I can’t deny that that is sort of how I feel.

  Then he speaks, and his voice is husky with emotion.

  “I’m glad you did,” he says.

  I look up quickly. “You are?”

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” And he reaches over, hesitantly, and takes my hand again.

  My heart beats double time. It’s the first time he’s touched me since we’ve arrived at the beach. I feel my skin heat up, spreading from my hand to the rest of me more quickly than I would have thought possible.

  Behind me, a wave crashes. The sheer noise and power of it seem to press up against me, driving me closer to Alex.

  His eyes. Those deep brown eyes. I’ve thought about this feeling dozens, maybe hundreds of times—what it was like to look into his eyes and feel the force of gravity shift, so I was falling forward instead of being held down, drawn irresistibly in by him. I’ve thought about it, but I’d forgotten what it actually felt like, how heady and wonderful it felt to surrender.

  “I’ve missed you,” Alex says. “Leaving you…it hurt, Erica. It was painful. The night we spent together was the best of my life.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. After all this time. He’s been suffering just as much as I have.

  “Mine, too,” I say, unable to do more than whisper.

  “It may be unwise,” he says. “I’m sure it’s unwise. But I can’t deny I’m happy t
o see you. And my God!” he laughs suddenly. “You were so bold! To walk right up to the palace and demand an audience! Not many people would have had the confidence to do that.”

  “I had to do it,” I say. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “No,” he agrees. “Once you’d flown all the way over here, I suppose you didn’t. I can’t believe you did that! What on earth made you decide to do it?”

  “I needed to talk to you…” I trail off, hesitating again.

  I need to force the words out, but they won’t come. He’s being so kind, so welcoming. It’s more than I ever expected and more than I had any right to expect.

  If I tell him the truth now, the spell will be broken. This won’t be about the strange surprise and pleasure of seeing each other again after believing we’d said goodbye forever. We won’t be able to hover in this place we are right now, pretending the future doesn’t exist, just enjoying the moment.

  “I should have given you a phone number,” Alex says. “I don’t know what I was thinking, forcing a clean break on us like that. Well, no, that isn’t true. I was thinking that it would be easier. That we’d be able to put each other out of mind. But that didn’t work, did it?”

  “No,” I agree. “That didn’t work out.”

  “I wish I’d been the one to come to you,” he says. “I should have. I shouldn’t have pulled away from you like I did. And when I realized I couldn’t just forget you, the way I had planned, I should have been the one to seek you out again.”

  That surprises me. “Why should you have been the one to do it?”

  “Because you’re easier to find than I am,” he says. “And besides, I already knew where you lived.”

  “It’s not exactly hard to find a palace,” I point out. “I didn’t have any trouble tracking you down.”

  He laughs. “I suppose not.

  “Alex,” I say.

  “Erica?”

  I take a deep breath. I know this is the moment. I need to do it before I lose my nerve and decide it’s better to just stay in this safe, easy place where he’s happy to see me.

  “Alex, I’m pregnant.”

  He doesn’t respond.

  I dart a look up to his face. He’s staring at me, eyes wide, mouth just slightly open and working as if he’s trying to say something but not finding words. Is he angry? Afraid? My breath is coming faster, and my heart is pounding, and I’m suddenly very, very nervous.

  “Alex?” I whisper, hardly daring to speak.

  When he moves, it’s so sudden I can’t process it, can’t keep up. His arm is thick and heavy around my shoulders, wrapping me in toward his chest, and I can feel the massive rise and fall as he breathes deeply and unevenly.

  “Oh my God,” he whispers.

  He’s startled. He’s overwhelmed. He’s all the things I felt when I first found out. But he’s holding me.

  I wrap my arms around his broad torso and hold onto him too, hanging on as if I’m gripping a sturdy tree in a storm. His hand finds the back of my head and strokes my hair.

  He’s not angry.

  And it doesn’t feel like he’s about to send me away.

  And I’m still thinking he’s probably alarmed, probably at a loss for what to do, probably downright scared, when he finally speaks again. His voice is thick. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was crying.

  “That’s wonderful, Erica,” he says. “That’s such amazing news.”

  I pull back so I can look him in the eye. I search his expression, wonderingly, expecting to see some shadow of worry or disappointment there, at least something that complicates this moment, but there’s nothing. There’s nothing written on his face but pure joy.

  “You’re happy?” I say, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

  “It’s mine, isn’t it?” he asks, suddenly uncertain. “That’s why you came? You wanted to tell me?”

  “That’s why,” I confirm. “It’s definitely yours. There aren’t even any other contenders.”

  He closes his eyes and doesn’t say anything for a moment. I wonder what he’s thinking. Was he worried, perhaps, that I’d found someone else? That I was telling him about this pregnancy out of obligation while my heart belonged to another? Is it possible he’s been as worried about losing my affections as I have been about losing his?

  Then, without warning, he takes me in his arms and kisses me.

  And all my thoughts are lost.

  I forgot about his kiss, I realize. I forgot about the strength and the passion and the power behind it, the way he makes me feel like he’s the only thing in the world. I’ve been dreaming about this kiss for six weeks straight, and yet the real thing makes my dreams seem washed out and pale by comparison.

  How could I have convinced myself that what existed between us wasn’t real? How could I have let myself believe that I’d exaggerated it in my mind? Something this intense, this wonderful—there’s no way he doesn’t feel it just as much as I do.

  “Alex,” I murmur, my lips moving against his.

  “Mmm?”

  He doesn’t want to stop kissing me, I can feel it. He wants to let me talk, to hear what I have to say, and yet he doesn’t want to disengage. I’m so in tune with him that I can feel that conflict taking place. Or maybe it’s just that I’m struggling with the same thing myself. It’s not like I want to stop, either.

  But I need to know. I need answers.

  “You said we weren’t going to pursue anything long-distance,” I point out. “When you were leaving California. Remember? You said it would be impossible for us, since you live here and have to rule, and I live there and have to be on set. You said we’d drive ourselves crazy trying to make it work.”

  He nods. “I did.”

  “Well,” I bite my lip, not wanting to continue, knowing that I have to. “I’m glad you’re happy about this. I really am. And I’m very relieved. So please don’t get me wrong here. But it doesn’t make sense to me. A child…that’s a huge commitment. And all the problems you mentioned…all the problems that were going to keep us apart…those all still exist. You’re a prince, and I’m the star of a TV show in Hollywood. Our lives are still going to come between us.”

  “I know,” he says quietly, his hands sliding down my arms to catch mine. He grips them, and it feels like the two of us are our own world, like the only problems in the universe are the problems the two of us are facing right now, like the only solutions are the ones we come up with together. “I know that’s all still true.”

  “And what about your uncle?” I ask fretfully. “I’m sorry, I know that might be sensitive, and I didn’t really plan to just blurt it out like that. Truly. But it’s all I’ve been able to think about for days now.”

  “Hold on,” he says, a frown crossing his face, brow furrowed in confusion. “My uncle? Which uncle?”

  “Your uncle Enzo,” I say. “I read all about him online. How he used to be king, before your father, but when his girlfriend became pregnant, he was forced to abdicate the throne. According to the articles I read, he was disgraced, and he lost all his power.”

  “You read all that?” Alex asks, sounding impressed. “You really did your research.”

  “Well, I had to, didn’t I?” I ask. “You left me no way of getting in touch with you. My only recourse was to go online and turn up everything I could find about the Avaranian royal family. I found out plenty about the history of your country, and what happened with your uncle.”

  “I see,” he says.

  “And I’m afraid, Alex,” I continue. “Aren’t you worried about it? If your uncle was forced to abdicate because of what happened to him, what are they going to do to you? His girlfriend was royal, at least. She was a countess. Me, I’m a commoner. I’m not even Avaranian. I’m not even your girlfriend, for God’s sake. Isn’t that going to be ten times more shameful than what happened with your uncle? He was judged incredibly harshly, and I’m sure many of the same people who were in power then are still in power
today. What are they going to do to you if you stand by me and the baby now?”

  Chapter 12

  Alex takes me by the hand and leads me down the beach a little bit. I can see right away where we’re heading. There’s a series of large rocks that jut outward into the ocean, a natural draw for anyone exploring the beach.

  If I was here on my own with nothing but time, I’m sure I would choose to head this way too. But in the moment, it’s frustrating.

  I don’t want to look at rocks. I didn’t come all this way for that. I want to talk about the future. I’m glad Alex is happy to hear about my pregnancy, but I can’t help but notice that he hasn’t actually made any suggestions regarding what we’re going to do yet.

  But as we walk along, hand in hand, my frustration begins to shift.

  Here I am, in a country I’d never thought to visit, walking along a beautiful beach that’s so different from the beaches I know back home, the sexiest man I’ve ever met beside me. And for a moment, I allow myself to forget everything I’ve been worrying about since I discovered my pregnancy.

  I just focus on the moment. His hand in mine. The sound of the waves lapping the shore. The electricity crackling between us, giving me the sure feeling that even now, even after all that’s been revealed and even with all that has to be solved, anything could happen between the two of us.

  I must be out of my mind to think something’s still possible. And yet, something within me takes flight every time he touches me. I can’t give up on the idea.

  “I used to come here when I was a child,” he says as he leads me out onto the rocks.

  I step carefully so as not to slip, paying attention to where he places his feet and following behind him. When we’ve reached the farthest rock, Alex sits down and dangles his feet over the side. We’re just barely high enough up that the water doesn’t splash our toes as it crashes against the rock face.