It’s mid-November, and the holiday spirit is starting to take hold. There’s music and decorations and a buzz in the air. Or maybe that’s just how I feel?
In a way, my life in Farcliff feels just like my life did in Argyle. I spend time with Luca, Ivy, and most importantly, Margot. I keep in contact with Theo through email, and make sure the security teams are working as they’re supposed to.
Besides that, I make love to Margot often and wholeheartedly. As the days go on, we become more comfortable with each other. It just feels right.
A week after Hunter’s revelation in the media, Margot and I decide to go to the bakery to visit Ivy and Luca. We drive ourselves there, bringing only two bodyguards. The streets are quiet, and Luca tells me most of the media attention around Margot has died down.
Just like anything, her pregnancy is a juicy bit of gossip that will pass. The media will latch onto something else. Everything will work out.
We make it to Ivy’s bakery, slipping in the back door. Ivy puts us to work immediately and Margot smiles, throwing me a sideways glance.
“If there was anyone who can make you forget that you’re a celebrity or royalty, it’s my sister.”
“I never felt like royalty anyway, so I don’t mind,” I grin.
Margot’s cheeks are glowing, and the way she smiles at me makes my heart grow in my chest. I help her bring a few big boxes out to the dumpsters out back, and then wrap my arms around her waist. We’re alone out here, behind the building.
Stealing a kiss, I run my hands over Margot’s ass.
“I can’t wait to see your body change,” I growl. “Is it wrong that it turns me on that you’re pregnant?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s wrong,” Margot laughs, nuzzling her nose to mine. “Fortunate for me, though.”
“The thought of your belly growing, your tits getting swollen and heavy…” I growl, nipping at her bottom lip.
She laughs, pulling away to look me in the eye. “You don’t care that it’s not yours?”
Margot bites her lip, staring into my eyes. I can tell that even though the question just slipped out of her, it’s something she’s been thinking about for a while.
I take a deep breath, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “No,” I finally say. “I don’t.”
“That’s a big responsibility to be taking on when you’ve known me, what? A month?”
“I know.” I inhale deeply, pulling her closer. “I can’t explain it, Margot, I just feel like we’re meant to be together. Did you know that I wasn’t even going to come to Farcliff? Theo was going to send his personal security advisor, but at the last minute I got over my fear of leaving and decided to come myself. It’s like something compelled me to come to Farcliff. Theo was shocked that I would even consider it, let alone want to come up here.”
“Your brother’s safety compelled you,” Margot smiles. “Not some destiny to meet me.” She shakes her head, running her fingers through my hair. “I just don’t want you to get into something and regret it later. I…I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’d resigned myself to doing this alone, and now…”
“Now, you have hope,” I finish for her.
Margot nods. “Hope is scary.”
“I’m here.”
“Just take a few days to think about it, Dante. Please.” Margot’s eyebrows draw together. “Really think about what it means to be with me and my baby. If it’s too much, I’d rather know now.”
I want to tell her that I’ve already thought about it. I already know what my answer will be. But the look in her eye stops me. I gulp, nodding.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Margot’s shoulders relax, and she lays a soft kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”
I smile, taking her hand and leading her inside. If only she knew that every kiss she gives me, every look she throws my way, every touch of her skin against mine—it just makes me more sure that she’s the one I want to be with.
I’m dizzy with emotion when we walk back into the bakery’s front room. Luca, Ivy, and her friends the twins all glance at us.
Ivy sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly turning her phone toward Margot.
Margot’s eyes widen, and she turns the screen to me.
It’s a picture of her and me by the dumpsters, kissing. It must have been taken and posted only a few minutes ago, and it’s already blowing up.
Is Prince Dante the Father?
My heart starts thumping as my thoughts get cloudy. Nausea starts rising inside me and I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself.
The comments under the picture are vicious.
She’s such a slut. All she wants is a prince like her sister.
Why would he want to be with a recovering drug addict? Didn’t she go to rehab after an overdose? Her baby is probably sick, anyway.
Isn’t Prince Dante a recluse? I heard that he killed someone when he was a kid, and that’s why he refuses to make public appearances.
Prince Dante is so ugly I want to barf.
The LeBlanc sisters are such gold diggers. I feel bad for the Argyle Princes.
I know I shouldn’t care. Why would it matter what some random person on the internet thinks of me?
Somehow, though, it does matter. Strangers’ words cut me deep, just like they did all those years ago. I hate seeing hateful comments. I hate seeing them criticize Margot, when she’s the strongest and best person I’ve ever met. I hate seeing spiteful words from people I’ve never met.
It makes me feel sick.
I’m still not used to my face in the media. I’ve spent so long keeping my privacy sacred, staying hidden away, that I don’t know how to react.
Then, the front door of the bakery bursts open, and a dozen cameras start flashing. They come rushing at us, screaming and howling as they take picture after picture of us. Margot shields her face, turning to the back of the bakery and slipping through the door.
I stand there, stunned.
Cameras flash in my face. Paparazzi reach over the counter, grabbing at me and screaming questions.
It’s not until Luca grabs me and drags me to the back that my body starts functioning again. I stumble over my feet, catching myself on the edge of the door before slipping to the relative serenity of the kitchens.
Margot has her hands over her face.
Luca stares at me.
I just stand there.
Margot’s words sink in, then, and I understand what she meant when she asked me if this was what I really wanted. She wasn’t only talking about her and the baby. She was talking about everything else, too.
Am I ready to give up my privacy? To be with the biggest star in Farcliff? Am I ready to be photographed and talked about, to be torn apart by the media and stared at under a microscope every time I go outside?
For the first time since I met Margot, I’m not sure.
I don’t know if I can handle a stampede of photographers bursting through the door every day. I’m not sure I can handle questions about the baby’s father, questions about my decisions, questions about my feelings for Margot.
Sure, my phone has lived in a drawer and I’ve avoided reading anything online since Hunter’s story broke, but that doesn’t solve anything.
Do I really want this to be my life from now on? Hiding in back rooms because I’m afraid of being trampled by bloodthirsty photographers?
When Margot drops her hands from her face and meets my gaze, I know she can read me like a book.
She already knows I’m not sure, and I watch her heart break in front of me.
18
Margot
I should have known it was too good to be true.
The minute Prince Dante walked into my life, I should have been the one running in the other direction. My therapist has been telling me to live my life with as much routine as possible. Avoid extreme emotions. Keep myself out of situations that might cause me to harm myself until I’m strong enough to handle them.
And what do I do?
I run head-first into Prince Dante’s arms.
Cracks splinter across my heart as Dante stares at me across the bakery. The distance between us grows, and I’m not sure anything can bridge it.
How stupid of me to think that he would want my child! He doesn’t even know me!
How could I presume that another man would step into that role? Why would he?
Not only that, how could I ask Prince Dante to give up the life he’s created for himself for me? Being with me is so much more complicated than being with anyone else. I’m damaged, in more ways than one, and all my flaws are displayed for the whole world to see.
He doesn’t even know the biggest flaw of all. He doesn’t know the secret that I’ve been hiding from everyone, including Ivy.
I turn away from him. I can’t withstand his stare any longer. His eyes are like an assault on my heart, throwing dagger after dagger into my chest.
Taking a trembling breath, I try to talk myself down. At least this happened now, and not after the baby is born. At least I have a few months to get used to being on my own again. At least I know how he feels for sure.
Isn’t it better to know now, than to find out later?
Then why does it hurt so fucking bad?
I lean against one of the stainless steel trolleys, sucking a breath in through my teeth. I slide a hand over my stomach, drawing strength from the life growing inside me.
I always knew I was on my own. All Prince Dante gave me was a quick distraction.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I ignore the pain in my chest as my heart starts to break all over again.
Alone, alone, alone.
He doesn’t even know the truth about my disease. Once he finds out, he’ll run. I know he will. And it’ll be my fault, because I didn’t have the guts to tell him.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
Then, a warm, strong hand sweeps over my back. I inhale Prince Dante’s scent, leaning into his touch. He spins me around to face him, cupping my cheek in his hand.
When he crushes his lips against mine, I sob. The Prince wipes my tears away with his thumbs, kissing me harder. Trembling against him, I don’t want to give in to the love he’s offering.
I want to lock myself away and never see anyone again. I want to suffer on my own. I never want to feel this disappointment again. Even for the few moments when I thought he was walking away, it hurt too much to face.
But Prince Dante wraps his arms around me, and I have no choice—I never had a choice with him. As soon as he walked into my life, he had my heart in the palm of his hand.
Pulling away from his kiss, I stare into the Prince’s eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve to be kissed.” His body is hard as he pulls me closer. His arms circle protectively around me, and I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before.
He wants to be let in, but I’m still hiding so much. Beckett is the father, and I have an incurable disease. I don’t deserve his love.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
Another tear falls from my eye, and he kisses it away. “Stop crying.”
“I thought you didn’t want this. The media. The gossip.” My breath hitches, and I force myself to say what I want to say. “The baby.”
Instead of answering, Prince Dante tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Come away with me.”
“What?”
“Come back to Argyle. Get away from Farcliff and all this paparazzi. Let me show you where I come from.”
My heart stutters.
The Prince’s eyes soften. “I care about you, Margot. I know it hasn’t been long, but I feel like meeting you was meant to be.”
He slips his hands into mine, staring into my eyes.
I take a deep breath, forcing a smile. “My whole life, I’ve been used by other people. Whether they meant to do it or not, it’s what’s happened. I was pulled out of school to start modeling. My father used me to generate income for himself. Then, everyone that I thought was a friend was just climbing over me to get more fame and fortune.”
The Prince tilts his head, listening. His hold on my waist tightens, and I feel a wave of affection rolling off him.
“The only person that I thought I could trust was Ivy, which is why it hurt me so badly when I felt like she had just used me to start her own bakery. Even my agent, Hunter, had worked with me for years. I knew being his client was a business relationship, but we worked together for so many years that I thought he genuinely cared about me. I was wrong.” I smile sadly. “That’s why it’s hard for me to believe you when you say you care about me.”
“What can I do to prove it to you?”
“You don’t have to prove it to me, Dante.” I shake my head, running my hands up his chest. “I just need to work through it in my own mind.”
“Does that mean you won’t come to Argyle?”
“I will,” I say slowly. “But I just need a few days to breathe. I don’t want to run away from the media. I don’t want to run away from my problems. My therapist says that I should sit with uncomfortable feelings instead of trying to mask them.”
Working on yourself is difficult. Facing your worst qualities and trying to improve them takes real effort, and not many people are willing to do it. I have to do it—for my sake and my child’s. I just hope Dante understands.
As soon as a smile tugs at his lips, I know he gets it. He nods, laying a gentle kiss on my lips. “You’re so strong, Margot. It never ceases to amaze me.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t feel strong.”
A security guard comes in the back door of the bakery, striding toward the two of us. “Your car is ready,” he says with a nod.
Luca dips his chin down at Dante and me. “Ivy and I will be back tonight. I’m going to stay here with her. I don’t like leaving her with this many people in the bakery.”
“See you tonight,” Dante says to his brother. He takes my hand and leads me through the back door. There are a slew of reporters waiting for us, but instead of hiding away from them, Dante flashes a smile. He waves to the cameras, and my heart grows.
This is the first time I’ve seen him comfortable in the public eye. Holding my hand and leading me to the car, he carries himself like a true Prince. The defenses I’ve built around my heart start to weaken, because I know the Prince is doing this for me. If it were up to him, he’d be hiding away in a palace in Argyle. The only reason he’s smiling for the cameras is because he wants to make me feel comfortable.
I don’t remember the last time someone did something like that for me.
Sure, I’ve been to lavish parties, and I’ve been paid for my time and presence. I’ve received boxes and boxes of gifts from companies. I’ve had people tell me what they think I’ve wanted to hear. I’ve been given the world.
I’ve never had someone stand beside me as proudly as Dante stands now, doing something that he hates, just because he wants to show me that he cares.
As we slide into the car, the Prince lets out a heavy sigh. He throws me a glance, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it. I was only in front of the cameras for a few seconds, and I feel exhausted.”
I smile, leaning my head on his shoulder.
I told him that he didn’t need to prove to me that he cared about me, but in those ten seconds from the door of the bakery to the car, he showed me more than he realizes. He put himself in an uncomfortable situation and stood by my side, even when he didn’t have to.
My heart thuds in my chest. I believe Dante when he says he cares about me. It makes me feel exhilarated and alive…
…and vulnerable.
Thinking that he cares about me opens me up to so much heartache.
But I listen to my therapist’s words. I sit with the uncomfortable feeling, knowing that I can get through it. Knowing it won’t last. Knowing that whatever lies on the other
side is worth it.
19
Dante
Media circus doesn’t come close to describing the two weeks that follow the picture of Margot and me. For the thousandth time, I realize how lucky I’ve been in Argyle.
Sitting in the living room with Luca, I watch through the windows as a member of our security team tackles a photographer to the ground in the backyard. His camera goes skidding across the patio, and another photographer’s head pops up above the hedge.
Click, click, click.
Even from inside, I can hear the camera’s shutter—but that might just be an echo in my mind. For the past two weeks, I’ve been dreaming of the sounds of cameras, and waking up thinking a flash is going off in my bedroom.
“I think we might need to move,” Luca grins, glancing at me. “I thought you being here was supposed to help my security situation.”
“So did I.”
The security guard lifts the photographer off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder as another guard rushes to the hedges. Within seconds, the privacy in the backyard is restored. With every day that goes by, the paparazzi are getting more and more daring.
My face, which was once hidden from the public, is now on every newspaper. My name, once a footnote in the history of Argyle, is plastered all over the headlines.
Being a recluse has had the opposite effect that I wanted. Now that my name is front and center, people only want to know more.
I glance at my brother. “At least if it’s me in the news, it takes the heat off you.”
Luca chuckles, shaking his head. He sighs, staring out at the now-empty backyard. “We can’t live like this. Let me call in a favor.”
My brother pulls out his phone. When he says the name ‘Damon,’ I frown. Does he mean Prince Damon? I listen to him say a few words on the phone before hanging up. He glances at me, nodding.
“The royal family of Farcliff will prepare a wing for the four of us at the castle. We’ll be safer up there.”
Knocked Up by the Wicked Prince: A Secret Baby Romance Page 10
