Claiming His Royal Heir

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Claiming His Royal Heir Page 10

by Jennifer Lewis


  “You have amazing insight. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, including Trevor.” Not even close. “And I know from my years of living on this planet that this kind of relationship ends in marriage or tears.”

  “Or both.”

  “Thanks for your support.” Stella rolled over. Vasco would wonder where she was if she didn’t leave soon. Maybe she should keep him guessing for a change, so he wouldn’t take her for granted.

  “Just ask him.”

  Stella laughed. “You make it sound so easy. Hey, Vasco, will we be getting married or are you saving yourself for someone hotter?”

  “Leave out the last part and you’ll be fine. Or ask him to marry you.”

  Stella sucked in a breath. She could never do that. The prospect of rejection was far too agonizing. But there was another possibility. “Maybe I could ask him if he intends for Nicky to be his heir. If he doesn’t marry me, then Nicky doesn’t inherit. At least not if Vasco has another child.”

  “Go for it. That could be a good deciding factor on whether you stay. Does Nicky seem happy there?”

  “Very. He’s gone from being shy and almost nonverbal to the most babbling and outgoing little boy. I think he loves being doted on by caring relatives rather than competing with lots of little go-getters in day care. The slower pace of life here works nicely for him.”

  “And for you.”

  She hesitated. “I do love it here. It’s a bit like living in a five-star hotel all the time. The people are so lovely and I have work most restorers could only dream of.”

  “And Vasco.”

  “For now.”

  “Go ask him.” Karen sounded firm. “Just find out what’s in his mind. And don’t call me back until you do!”

  The abrupt dial tone sent a frisson of anxiety through Stella. She peeled herself off the bed and slipped her feet into her shoes. Vasco would be waiting for her with that warm, seductive smile on his sensual mouth and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. She had to get her question—whatever it might be—out before she fell under the spell of his touch and his kiss and all sensible thought retreated into oblivion.

  She passed one of the porters in the hallway and nodded a greeting. She wasn’t even too embarrassed anymore about running into people on her nightly perambulations. Surely everyone in the palace knew what went on between her and Vasco. No doubt they accepted it as a normal and natural part of life in a royal house.

  With a royal mistress.

  She didn’t feel like a “girlfriend,” whatever that was. She lived in his palace and ate his food and wore designer clothes he paid for. Girlfriends took care of their own rent and phone bills and went out for nights on the town with their other friends. She was a kept woman right now, even if she did have a job that paid far more than the going rate.

  “El meu amor.” Vasco’s deep voice greeted her from the darkness of the round chamber. My love. Did he feel the same way she did?

  She closed the door behind her and searched for Vasco’s moonlit outline on the four-poster bed. Silver rays picked out his muscled torso and proud, handsome face. He lay naked on the covers, arms outstretched to welcome her. “Come here, I’ll undress you.”

  She steeled herself against a desire to climb right into his embrace and surrender herself. “I’ve been here a month.” Better spit it out before she succumbed. “I want to know where Nicky and I stand. Long-term, I mean.”

  “You live here and it’s your home.”

  Her heart beat faster and her courage started to fail her. Did she want to risk losing what they had? “I can’t be your girlfriend forever.”

  “You’re far more than that.”

  “I know, I’m the mother of your son, but what does that mean for us in the future?” She straightened her shoulders. “Will we marry? Will Nicky be king one day?”

  He laughed. “Already looking ahead to when I’m dead and gone?”

  “No.” The word shot out. How rude she seemed with her demands. “No, not at all.” The prospect of Vasco dying was unimaginable. A more vital and indestructible man would be hard to find. “It’s just that…I want us to be a real family and…”

  Her words trailed off. I want us to live happily ever after. Her face heated and she was grateful for the darkness. There, she’d said it. Put all her pathetic hopes and dreams out into the dark air, where they now hung in silence that stung her ears.

  “Stella.” He rose off the bed and moved toward her. “We are partners in every way.”

  She braced herself as he came close. The warm masculine scent of him drifted into her nostrils, taunting her. “I don’t want to be a royal mistress. People are talking. All the papers are speculating. It’s embarrassing.”

  “People always talk and write about members of the royal family. It’s just part of life in the public eye. There’s no need to read that stuff or trouble yourself with it. Our life is ours alone and no one else matters.”

  He slid a powerful arm around her waist and her belly shuddered in response. Why did he always sound so sensible and make her feel she was being silly?

  She tried to picture the worst-case scenario. “Do you plan to marry someone else one day? Another aristocrat perhaps?”

  Vasco’s throaty laugh filled her ears. “Never. Never, never, never. Our son will be king and you will always be my queen.” He pressed his lips to hers and a flash of desire scattered her thoughts. “Let’s enjoy tonight.”

  His hand covered her breast through her thin blouse. Her nipple thickened under his palm and her head tilted back to meet his kiss. How did he always do this to her? Already her hands roamed over the warm, thick muscle of his chest. Again she was intoxicated by the sheer pleasure of the moment.

  Maybe she wanted too much. Couldn’t it be enough to enjoy life here in this lovely place with a man she was crazy about? Vasco undressed her slowly, working over her body with his tongue. She arched her back, letting herself slide into the ocean of pleasure he created around her. Most women would kill for a lover this sensitive and creative, let alone all the other things she enjoyed in the palace.

  She ran her fingertips over the hard line of his jaw, enjoying the slight stubble that roughened his skin. Vasco’s eyes gleamed with desire as he looked up at her while sliding her pants off. The chemistry between them was undeniable. She’d never felt anything like it. Would she seriously walk away from Vasco because he didn’t plan to marry her?

  Her whole body shouted “No!” Vasco took her in his arms and they rolled on the bed together, wrapped up in each other. Her body craved his and judging from his arousal and the soft words he breathed in her ear, the feeling was mutual.

  She exhaled with relief as he entered her, and they moved together in a dance of erotic joy that swept them both up into their own world of bliss, where no one else existed. Afterward, she was too tired to think, let alone speak.

  But she phoned Karen the next day, as promised.

  “He said I’ll always be his queen.” It sounded pretty promising when you said it out loud like that.

  “What more could you want?”

  “A wedding date. You remember how Trevor always put me off with excuses and reasons for delay. All that We’re too young. We have our whole lives ahead of us. You can’t rush these things. Maybe he even meant it at first, but he got comfortable with the way things were and decided not the change them.”

  “Vasco’s not Trevor, thank goodness.”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last decade, it’s that a man who’s determined to dig his feet in can stand like that forever. After we broke up, Trevor got more honest and admitted that he’d never have married me or had a child. He didn’t want the responsibility.”

  “I always told you he was a creep.”

  “He’s comfortable living in a pleasant limbo between carefree boyhood and the responsibilities of family life. He wanted the reassurance of knowing he had a date on Friday, but not the commitment of diapers to change or college fees to
pay.”

  “Or a wife to still cherish and adore when she had silver hair and crow’s-feet.” Karen chimed in. “He’s like my ex. They like to keep the escape clause open.”

  “I can’t live like that. Not anymore. I decided that when I broke up with him and made the choice to start a family by myself. I chose a life on my own terms and embraced it, and I’m not going to turn around and live life on someone else’s terms that I don’t agree with, and that’s what I’m doing right now.”

  “One month, Stella. It’s not exactly the same as nine years.”

  “That nine years happened one month at a time, because I just kept waiting. Never again. It’s worse now because people I don’t even know are curious. You should see the headlines—‘Royal wife or royal mistress?’ It’s totally humiliating.”

  Karen sighed. “I think I could get used to being a royal mistress, if there were enough diamonds involved.”

  “Oh, stop.”

  “But I have a crazy idea.”

  “Knowing you it really will be crazy.”

  “Listen, if you asked him whether you’re getting married and he fobbed you off with some fluff about being his queen, then maybe you can call his bluff.”

  “How so?” Already a nasty sense of misgiving writhed in her gut.

  “If you told one of those gossip rags that you and Vasco were getting married, would he deny it?”

  Stella shrugged. “Probably not. He’d just nod and smile and say ‘one day’ or something like that.”

  “But what would he do if you told them you definitely weren’t getting married?” Her voice had a calculating tone.

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “He’s used to running his life the way he wants it and having everyone follow along nicely. If you, the mother of his child and heir and the woman he sees as his queen, says she won’t marry him, he’s bound to protest, right? Men always want what they can’t have. It’s reverse psychology.”

  “Well…” Karen had a point. He probably would be upset by an outright refusal.

  “And he’ll want to prove you wrong.”

  “By proposing and making me his wife within the week?” She laughed, but the idea was oddly intriguing. “I don’t know, Karen. It’s not my style.”

  “You’ve tried your style and it’s not working. If he won’t discuss your future with you in private, flush him out in the open. At least then you’ll get your answer one way or the other. If you really want it, that is.”

  Stella bit her lip. “You’re right. If he’s not going to marry me I’d rather know now, so I can move on with my life. Your idea is crazy, but it just might work.”

  Nine

  Getting the information to the press was easy. Stella had figured out that the “mystery” gossip editor of the local paper was a rather glamorous older widow who lived on an estate near the town. Anything she printed had a way of getting out into the mainstream media, too. Probably because she couldn’t resist telling everyone she knew when she found a piece of actual gossip.

  Since this woman, Mimi Reyauld, was constantly fishing for new items, she would be easy to leak it to. After only three expeditions to the local town for magazines or a new toy for Nicky, Stella managed to “run into” her in the market square.

  “Stella, my dear, don’t you look lovely?” Mimi had a bouffant blond ’do that didn’t move in the wind. “How is that gorgeous boy of yours?”

  “Nicky’s having his afternoon nap. It’s a great time for me to come stretch my legs and do some shopping.”

  Mimi’s gaze raked her hand. “He’s such a dear. I’m sure he’ll be the spitting image of his father one day.”

  Stella smiled. She hadn’t openly acknowledged Nicky as Vasco’s, but she knew people assumed he was. Clearly Mimi was fishing. “I’m sure he will. Are you coming to the masked ball on Friday?” Almost every adult in Montmajor was invited to the legendary annual festivities and the palace was abuzz with preparations.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Vasco throws such wonderful parties.” She leaned in and her expensive scent stung Stella’s nostrils. “When will we be celebrating your engagement?”

  “Engagement?” Fear made her pulse skitter and she pushed back her hair with her ringless hand. “Vasco and I have no plans to be married.” So far she’d said nothing but the honest and sad truth.

  Mimi’s eyes widened. “Come now, dear. Don’t be modest. Everyone in Montmajor can see the two of you are madly in love.”

  Stella’s tongue dried. They could? How embarrassing. She knew it was true for her, if not for Vasco. “I’m not sure where they’re getting that idea. Vasco and I won’t be getting married.” It hurt to say it out loud, but if that was going to be the truth, better to find out now rather than months, or years, down the road when it would be harder to extricate herself from the awkward situation.

  “Oh.” Mimi’s mouth formed a red circle of surprise. No doubt she’d been hoping to be the first with the engagement scoop because she looked disappointed.

  “I imagine there will be a lot of other ladies who’ll be happy to hear that.” She hoisted her chic little bag higher on her shoulder. “And I look forward to seeing you at the ball, though I dare you to try to recognize me in my mask.” Mimi air kissed and walked away, leaving Stella feeling a little stunned.

  She’d done it. Other things she’d mentioned to Mimi even in passing had almost invariably shown up in print—there just wasn’t that much good gossip in Montmajor—so it was inevitable this latest tidbit would, too. It seemed very European to have the local gossip columnist be an old friend of the family.

  That night with Vasco she felt like a traitor. He hadn’t sworn her to secrecy about their relationship but she’d been very discreet until now, not telling anyone except Karen what was—or wasn’t—going on. Even his inviting embrace and his spine-tingling kisses didn’t entirely banish the sense of guilt she felt for talking about their relationship in public.

  The next morning, sure enough, the story had made it into the gossip column, and by the afternoon it had spread like wildfire through the European tabloids, culminating in headlines like “Dashing Vasco Montoya Still Europe’s Most Eligible Bachelor.”

  It didn’t take long until Vasco noticed.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” He brandished the local paper. “You told Mimi we’re not getting married.”

  “Mimi?” She played innocent. “What does she have to do with the local paper?”

  “She’s Senyora Rivel, the gossip columnist. Everyone in Montmajor knows that.”

  “And you still invite her to the palace?”

  “She’s a sweet old lady who never writes anything harmful. But why did you say this?” His eyes flashed. She’d never seen him look so serious. Not exactly angry, but…annoyed.

  Part of her was excited and grateful that he cared. “It’s the truth. We’re not getting married.”

  “Says who?” He strode toward her.

  “We’ve made no plans. Every time I ask you about the future you start kissing me or change the subject.” She couldn’t believe how bold she was being. She’d never be capable of it if Nicky’s future wasn’t at stake, too. “Since apparently everyone else is talking about our marriage plans, I thought I’d better start setting them straight.”

  Confusion furrowed his noble brow. “I think our relationship should be between us, and not anyone else’s business.”

  “I didn’t make a proclamation, I just had a short chat with Mimi at the market. Since it’s the truth, there’s no harm done.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “Now everyone will want to know why we’re not getting married.”

  Her heart contracted. He’d now confirmed what she said. Part of her wanted to die right now on the spot, or sink into the stone floor. She managed to keep a straight face. At least now she knew where she really stood.

  “Then tell them the truth.” She swallowed hard. “Tell them we’re not in love.” She held her breath
, while her chest ached with hope and despair and she silently begged him to argue with her and say that he loved her with all his heart and soul.

  But he didn’t. He simply stared at her for one long, searing moment, then turned and sauntered away.

  Crushed, Stella shrank against the nearest wall as she heard his footsteps recede into the distance. She’d hoped her little media revelation would be the catalyst that would draw them together. Instead it had just the opposite effect. At least she had an elaborate silver-sequined mask to hide her tears behind at the ball that night.

  Vasco, masked like everyone else, stood amidst the flow of arriving guests. Anonymity added a certain feverish excitement to the occasion, and champagne flowed like a summer rainstorm. Anger still thudded through him like distant thunder. He’d been surprised by how much Stella’s words wounded him.

  He hadn’t held up a magnifying glass to his feelings for Stella, but they were intricate and involving. She’d come here as the mother of his son but transformed into far more. Their nights together wove a web of passion that bound them tightly, even when Nicky was asleep on the other side of the castle. He loved her company and craved it when he was busy working or held up with other tasks.

  Stella had quickly become the center of his existence and he shared his life with her in the most intimate way imaginable. Only to have her coldly deny their relationship in public.

  There was no denying that he’d pushed back a little when she’d asked about the future. They’d known each other a short while and the future was a very long time. There’d be plenty of time to make decisions about that later. He’d been overwhelmed by the new emotions crowding him since he learned about Nicky, let alone his feelings for Stella. He needed time to adjust to the reality that his family had expanded and these new people were now closer to him than his own parents or siblings had been.

  Then she came right out and said that they didn’t love each other? Something unfamiliar and painful gnawed at his gut.

 

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