by Maya Blake
Stormy eyes held hers for another ferocious second before he waved at the table. ‘Geraldine has prepared everything you like. Don’t let it go to waste.’
Suspicion that he was avoiding the subject jangled her nerves even more. She should be grateful for the brief reprieve to consider her decision. But with each morsel she swallowed, the giddiness grew, the urge to blurt that Yes, I’ll marry you, even entertain that very male satisfaction at finally extracting the answer he wanted, suffusing her.
She thought of what would come after, the many nights and days she would spend with Zak, welcoming their child into the world, nurturing him or her...
Her hand shook with sheer elation, a world removed from the initial dismay she’d felt minutes ago. Setting her teacup down before it spilled, she laced her fingers in her lap and cleared her throat. ‘It’s been seven days, Zak—’
‘Technically, it hasn’t. Label me pedantic but we have until mid-afternoon before our time is truly up.’
She couldn’t wait that long. She couldn’t wait another minute. ‘Fine, but I think you should know I’m...considering—’
The butler’s diplomatic throat-clearing interrupted her.
‘What it is?’ Zak asked, his eyes narrowed on her face, cataloguing the nerves eating her alive.
‘My apologies for the interruption, Your Highness, but His Majesty, your brother, is on the phone for you.’
He rose. ‘I have to take it. Excuse me, Violet.’
‘But—’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep the King waiting, do you?’ he said drily.
And yet as he walked away, she suspected he would’ve done exactly that if it’d suited him.
The real possibility that he’d changed his mind siphoned every scrap of joy she’d managed to fool herself into believing she would enjoy by agreeing to marry him.
She finished breakfast, eating more for sustenance than enjoyment. As if to match her mood, stormclouds rolled fast and frantic over the horizon, throwing dark shadows over the villa within minutes.
Torn between awaiting Zak’s return and retreating, she lingered until heavy raindrops began to hammer the pavestones. Then, restless, anxious and more than a little horrified at the sheer depths of a loss she hadn’t even suffered yet, she went up to her suite and opened her laptop.
There was still no word from her mother but her boss back in the UK had emailed, asking for a tentative date for her return.
The need to inform Zak of her decision resurged, propelling her from the room. As she’d done so many times since her arrival, she entered his domain via the library, a habit that drew a small smile.
The sound of Zak’s deep voice stopped her short. She didn’t want to interrupt his conversation with his brother. Deciding to wait rather than return to her suite, Violet froze as a painfully familiar voice answered Zak’s crisp query via speakerphone.
Zak was talking to her mother?
She barely registered moving closer to the study door, pressing her ear against the cool wood. The dulcet tones that announced her mother’s excitement contained another much-too-familiar pitch, one that spelled absolute triumph, a coup she couldn’t wait to crow about. A chill swept over her skin, seeping ice into Violet’s soul. Decades of shame lashed her as her mother continued, ‘You have my word, Zak. The interview will be tasteful and any that follow will be arranged in consultation with your people.’
‘And the nondisclosure agreement?’
Violet pressed her fist to her mouth to prevent an anguished gasp from escaping.
‘My lawyer looked it over yesterday and all is well. Your lawyers should have the signed copies by now. But it really wasn’t necessary. You’re going to be family soon enough,’ her mother gushed, ‘and you’ve already been so generous, paying off my debts and gifting me a house in Montegova for when my grandchild arrives. I should be offended that you’d even feel the need for a non-disclosure agreement.’ She laughed off the insult.
Violet couldn’t see it but well imagined Zak’s arrogant shrug. ‘I’m sure your sensibilities will recover from my need to ensure no loopholes are left in securing what’s mine.’
Violet’s soul shrivelled to dust.
‘Of course,’ Margot gushed even more. ‘The crew is arriving shortly. May I be excused?’
‘You may,’ Zach answered, his voice containing that edge Violet had heard at the breakfast table. ‘I look forward to seeing the outcome.’
‘You won’t be disappointed, Your Highness.’
Her mother’s voice was cut off abruptly, leaving only the sound of the blood rushing through Violet’s ears as the ominous death knell of the foolish dreams she’d harboured.
She stumbled back from the door, glad for the Aubusson rug that hid her footfalls, even while she prayed she wouldn’t be discovered, granting Zak the excuse to keep her here, devise another cold, calculated strategy to claim his child.
She didn’t take a breath until she reached the kitchen.
Geraldine took one look at her and went into mother hen mode, the exact reaction she wanted.
‘I’m not feeling great. I think the storm disturbed me more than I thought,’ Violet said.
‘Oh, don’t worry, miss. They tend to pass quickly here.’
Violet nodded abstractly. ‘I’m going to lie down. Can you make sure I’m not disturbed by anyone, including Zak?’
The housekeeper frowned but nodded. ‘Of course, miss.’
She fled, feeling a twinge of guilt at using her pregnancy as an excuse. A sob clogged her throat as she hurried up the steps. She held it in until she reached her suite.
Then the torrent came.
He’d used the truce to pull the wool over her eyes, while orchestrating her mother’s co-operation with financial incentives and the limelight Margot adored so much. He’d made Violet believe they had a foundation to build a relationship on. And she’d fallen wholesale for the illusion. Given her body, soul, mind and one vital part she desperately feared would never be reclaimed.
She’d given Zak Montegova her heart.
And he’d shattered it.
CHAPTER TEN
VIOLET FEARED SHE would never be whole again.
But gluing her shattered pieces together would have to come later. Right now, she was still trapped on this island, her every vulnerability exposed.
She pulled herself up in bed, her jaw clenching tight. He may have imprisoned her, but hadn’t she turned the tables on him for two weeks? She scrubbed at her eyes, blinking when further tears threatened. All she needed was to stage the performance of a lifetime once again, and finally convince him that she would co-operate.
Her heart screamed with agony, strenuously fighting the thought of being separated from the owner, who had no regard for it. Fists clenched tight, she rehearsed her role, acted out every imaginable outcome in her head.
Rising, she entered the bathroom, washed away all traces of tears and touched up the blotchiness with make-up.
The sooner she confronted Zak, the sooner she would gain her freedom.
The gown she wore to Remi’s wedding had been dry-cleaned. Matching shoes located, she hurriedly dressed and retrieved her weekend bag. She exited, denying herself one last look at the room. The staccato echo of her heels fell in tandem with her racing heart as she approached the hallway leading to Zak’s study.
Her heart lurched when the door was wrenched open.
Zak stood framed in the doorway. ‘Cara, I was told you weren’t feeling—’ He stopped, his expression morphing from false concern to shock to fury when he took in her attire and the case in her hand. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.
‘What does it look like? I’m leaving.’
For a fraction of time she fooled herself into thinking she glimpsed utter bleakness in his eyes. Then his arroga
nt head reared up, his gaze icing over. ‘What happened to talking?’
‘I think we’ve said everything that needs saying.’
He jerked away from the doorway, bringing that deceptive, irresistible magnificence one step closer. ‘Violet—’
She stopped him with a dismissive flick of her hand, silently congratulating herself for emulating his imperious gesture. ‘There’s no point rehashing this all over again, Zak. As you said last week, it’s grown boring and tedious.’
Aquiline nostrils flared. ‘This has gone infinite ways beyond that and you know it.’
‘All I know is that you’re holding me here against my will. Your time’s up, Zak. Let’s end this now before any of this comes back to bite you.’ He opened his mouth but again she stopped him. ‘Think of the scandal that you’re courting by perpetuating this farce, and let’s be sensible about it.’
Eyes narrowed, his strong jaw worked as he stared at her with a ferocity that nearly unseated her performance. ‘You wanted to talk to me at breakfast. Was this what you intended to say?’ he asked, his voice a blade of ice.
She pretended to frown. ‘Possibly. I forget now. Blame my hormones.’ Again she sent a tiny plea for forgiveness to her baby. ‘It’s inconsequential now.’
Laser beam eyes probed her. ‘What the hell is going on here, Violet? What exactly are you trying to achieve with this performance?’
Terror struck at the threat of discovery. Somehow, she dredged up a scornful laugh. ‘You keep saying it’s a performance. Is it really so hard to accept that I’ve had enough of this place? Enough of you?’
His face grew tight, the skin surrounding his lips whitening. Still he came at her, as if he wanted to test her determination up close.
Violet stood her ground, barely holding it together when every cell in her body wanted to retreat from the overwhelming potency of him. She didn’t even dare breathe for fear that his addictive scent would demolish her. She raised her chin a fraction higher and met his gaze. ‘You have no choice, Zak. You gave me your word. Now let me go.’
For the longest time he didn’t respond. His gaze blazed with fury, but Violet caught another emotion in the grey depths. Uncertainty. A hint of vulnerability.
But soon they evaporated as his gaze dropped with sizzling intent to her belly. To the hint of a curve where their child grew. ‘You won’t get very far with what’s mine, Violet,’ he vowed.
Her heart lurched at the throb of deep possession in his voice, but it was nothing compared to the leap of her senses at the thought that leaving here today wouldn’t quite be the last time she encountered Zak. They would be tied together for ever by their child.
But at what cost? Her sanity? This deep craving she knew in her bones was more than lust? More than simple enthralment with every single thing about him?
It would shatter her completely. She knew that too in her bones. ‘I had a feeling you would say that. Expect a letter from my solicitors in the next week or so.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘Are you sure you wish to engage in legal battles with me?’ he enquired, his tone deadly.
‘Of course not. I expect a civil discourse between us concerning this baby. It’s up to you if you wish to turn it into a battle.’
He shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite grasp her response.
Violet wanted to laugh but she daren’t, fearing she’d most likely dissolve into more sobs. She’d cried enough already.
His face turned into a cold mask. ‘You should really reconsider. You don’t know what you’re inviting on yourself with this course of action.’
‘I have. You may have wealth, but I have the power and I suspect you won’t want to drag your brother and his sparkling new reign through the dirt, all in the name of taking my child away from me. Try it and I’ll tell the world everything you’ve done to me in the last three weeks.’
Stark shock mingled with the fury. ‘How did I fool myself into thinking you were different?’ he rasped.
Violet allowed herself a small, stiff smile and no more. ‘Go easy on yourself, Zak. After all, I fooled myself into thinking the very same of you.’
He stiffened with rigid affront, thunderclouds rolling over his face as he stared at her.
Unable to stand it any longer, she pivoted away from him.
‘I’m happy to leave by speedboat if that gets me off this island quicker. I’ll be in the living room when it’s ready to leave. Goodbye, Zak.’
He didn’t respond. And with every step she took away from him, Violet felt his ferocious gaze boring into her skin. She prayed that he wouldn’t follow even as her shockingly traitorous heart prayed he would.
When he didn’t...when all she received was a message from the butler to say his plane would arrive in three hours to take her off the island, she cursed the silent, defiant tears that poured out of her broken heart.
* * *
Zak stood at his study window, eyes fixed on the plane poised at the start of the runway. The intermittent thunderstorms that had pummelled the villa throughout the day had finally receded and his pilot had been cleared for take-off.
His fingers clenched hard, shooting pain up his arms. He ignored it, the strain of remaining in control demanding every ounce of his willpower.
He couldn’t believe he’d spent the past week with an illusion. That Violet had taken exactly she’d wanted and then left him.
What he had offered her, the inner voice insisted.
He snarled under his breath, wishing with every bone in his body that he could move from the window, wrench his gaze from the plane taking her away from him.
She never belonged to you.
He’d taken steps to protect his family, his child, and it’d backfired. That was all.
No, that wasn’t all. At this exact moment she was taking his heart away from him and he didn’t mean the child she carried.
Her beautiful smile.
Her laughter.
Her intelligence, vitality and passion.
Everything he hadn’t known was essential to him until the moment he’d seen her in that blasted gown, clutching that godforsaken weekend bag. She’d walked away with everything he feared he would need to be able to breathe again.
Because somewhere between New York and Tanzania and the Caribbean, he’d fallen in love with Violet Barringhall. And once again he’d experienced the true depths of betrayal and shattered dreams.
But...had she really betrayed him?
She’d promised him nothing save the pleasure of the body she’d given selflessly.
In his supreme arrogance he’d believed he could sway her with his royal pedigree and the title of Princess, when the only thing that brought her truly alive was her work.
The irony of it, he reflected bitterly, that he’d thrown a proposal at the feet of the only woman who would reject him so resoundingly. What did Violet want that he lacked? The question echoed in his mind as he watched the plane gather speed.
Fingers unclenched, he braced them against the cool glass window, a deep rumble erupting from his chest, gaining momentum as the plane’s engines grew louder, forcefully announcing that he’d failed, that he’d gambled and lost, his very heart torn from his chest.
The pain grew. Unable to contain it, Zak released it in a loud bellow, both hands clenching in his hair as the aircraft lifted into the air and banked steeply. Its sleek wings caught the sunlight, delivering a mocking wink before righting itself again.
He barely registered stumbling to his desk, blinded by the overwhelming sense of loss hollowing his insides. Every sinew strained for action, specifically one that involved calling his pilot, ordering the plane back to the island. But what Violet didn’t know was that all his excuses for his actions were no longer valid.
His general had finally located the rebels.
And with Remi’s own news this morni
ng that his new wife was pregnant, and a public announcement was imminent, any immediate threat to Montegova and his family were effectively neutralised.
By ordering Violet back, wasn’t he compounding his sins by acting as his bloodthirsty ancestors had in centuries past? The simple truth was that she didn’t want him. Had no interest in his royal pedigree, his wealth...nothing.
Accepting the stark truth took several swigs from his favourite vintage cognac. But an hour later Zak was still clear-eyed, his pain just as all-consuming. With a grimace, he tossed the mostly full bottle aside. He’d suffered through his father’s betrayal, through the scandal of Jules’s arrival in their lives, had put out several different fires in the name of family since then.
He would handle this too.
First thing tomorrow he’d instruct his lawyers to begin the process of claiming his child.
And you’re happy with her hating you even more than she does now?
He growled at the inner voice. It persisted, his conscience...an almost evangelic need to make Violet happy despite her rejection of him forcing him to reconsider that action.
Desperate, he mentally replayed their last conversation at the breakfast table.
‘Zach, I think you should know I’m considering...’
His heart leapt, defying his usual circumspection and cynicism. Considering what? Accepting his proposal?
Had he shut her off too soon, fearing the very rejection she’d delivered such a short time later? He dragged frantic fingers through his hair. Had he destroyed any chance of making her his? Dio mio... Or becoming hers?
He reached for the phone, this time to summon his pilot to turn the plane around for a completely different reason. To plead for the woman he loved.
Instead, the phone rang.
Wild hope flaring in his heart, he picked it up.
Margot Barringhall’s panicked voice cut through his greeting. ‘Zak... Your Highness, we have a problem.’
Ice doused his veins. ‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know how it happened but... Violet just called me. I... She knows about you paying off my debts, about the house in Montegova... She knows everything—’
