Royals_For Their Royal Heir

by Abby Green

  To her embarrassment, when she straightened up in the small bathroom she saw Alix reflected in the mirror, looking concerned. No doubt concerned for her cargo.

  Weakly she said, ‘I’m fine—it’s normal.’

  ‘You look as pale as a ghost. Lie down and rest, Leila. You’ll need it.’

  Alix went out into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. Leila kicked off her shoes and avoided his eye as she sat down. Then she thought of something else and looked up at him, panicked. ‘What about my shop?’

  Alix was grim. ‘We can arrange for someone to manage it in the short term. It’ll probably be for the best if you sell it. You’ll be busy with your duties as Queen and as a mother.’

  Furious anger raced through Leila’s blood, galvanising her to stand, all weariness gone. ‘How dare you presume to take my livelihood away from me just like that?’ She snapped her fingers.

  ‘Leila, look—’

  ‘No, you look.’ Leila stabbed a finger towards Alix, the full tumult of the day catching up with her. ‘That business is my own family legacy. It’s a vocation, making perfumes, and I will not be giving it up. If you insist otherwise then I won’t hesitate to leave Isle Saint Croix on the first return flight out.’

  She folded her arms tight across her chest.

  ‘Or are you telling me that you’ll incarcerate me like some feudal overlord? I’m sure the tabloids would love to hear about that!’

  Alix’s mouth was a thin line, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Finally he said, ‘Fine. We’ll discuss how you can incorporate it into your life.’

  And just as suddenly as the anger had come, it faded away, leaving her bone-weary again. Leila sat down on the side of the bed. Alix stood in her vision, huge and immovable.

  Leila lay down and curled away from where he stood, eyes shut tight. Maybe when she woke up this would all be a bad dream...?

  * * *

  Alix stood looking down at the woman on the bed, seeing how her breath evened out and her muscles grew slacker. Her back was to him and that only compounded the frustration still rushing through his system. He knew he’d been out of line to suggest that Leila sell her business, but he found it hard not to operate from some base place when she was in front of him.

  He’d noticed the minutely perceptible thickening of her waist. Her hand had rested there just now, as if to protect the child within. And suddenly an almost dizzying sense of protectiveness rose up within him.

  He thought of those paparazzi hounding Leila, and recalled that when Andres had shown him the news footage, his primary instinct had been to get to her and keep her safe more than to confront her about the pregnancy.

  It made him feel exposed.

  Alix finally backed away from the bed and out of the room. When he sat down again he asked for a shot of whisky from the hovering attendant.

  He swirled the dark amber liquid in the heavy crystal glass for a long moment. He’d always thought that having a child would be something he’d feel quite clinical about. Not entirely unemotional, of course. He would be as loving as he could be. But how could he be something he knew nothing of? A loving parent?

  Alix had only ever really loved one person: his brother. And the pain he’d felt when his brother had been murdered had nearly killed him too. He would never forget that raw chasm of rage and grief. And he never wanted to feel it again.

  Except now his gut was churning with dark emotions that felt far too close to the bone.

  When he’d first contemplated making Leila his Queen it had felt like a relatively uncomplicated decision. He liked her. Liked talking to her, spending time with her. Liked that he’d been her first lover. Just that memory alone was enough to have Alix’s body hardening.

  His mouth twisted. Their intense mutual chemistry had told him that there would be no issues in the bedroom.

  For someone who had always known that his choice of bride would be strategic above all else, it had felt like a very logical choice. A beautiful bride...a queen he would have no hardship creating a family with.

  Until she’d rejected his offer outright.

  And now she was pregnant with his child and he had no choice but to make her his wife. He was being mocked by the gods for his initial complacency.

  Alix willed down the heat in his body and the darkness in his gut. He’d believed that Leila was falling for him when evidently she hadn’t been.

  He ignored the intensifying of the tightness in his chest and told himself that this would only make things easier. No emotion on either side. No illusions. This was about the baby and the future of Isle Saint Croix, and while Leila was not the bride Alix would choose if he had a choice right now, he would make this work. For the sake of his people and for the sake of his legacy into the future.

  * * *

  When they arrived in Isle Saint Croix it was after midnight. Too late for any kind of formal reception, much to Leila’s relief. She was still feeling a little hollowed out and overwhelmed. Her sleep on the plane had been populated with scary dreams of her running and a tall, menacing figure trying to catch her. She didn’t have to be a genius to figure that one out.

  Her first impressions of the island were of warm, damp heat. Warmer than she’d expected. Stars populated the clear night sky. There was the zesty sea-salt freshness of the ocean nearby. And something much more exotic and intriguing.

  On the journey to the castle Leila caught glimpses of small pretty villages and a bigger town down near the sea, lights twinkling in the harbour. Then they rounded a bend, and there on a hilltop in the distance stood the floodlit castle.

  She couldn’t hold in a gasp of pure awe. On the TV it had looked like a toy...now she could see just how massive and imposing it was. As if it had been hewn directly out of the rock of the mountainside.

  Its influence was clearly Moorish, with its flat roofs and long walls and what looked like lots of quadrangular buildings. Something about it called to Leila—something in its stark beauty.

  ‘That’s the castle. Our home.’

  Our home. It was surreal. Leila felt overwhelmed again and said, ‘I don’t even know what language you speak...’

  Alix turned his head. ‘It’s a colloquial mixture of Spanish and French and Arabic. But the official language is French, thanks to the fact that the French were our longest colonisers until the mid-eighteenth century.’

  ‘There’s so much I don’t know.’

  ‘I’ll arrange for Andres to find a tutor for you.’

  The car was descending now, down winding steep roads into a sort of valley. Leila could see the lights of a town nearby—presumably the capital. And then they were bypassing it and climbing again, up towards the castle, in through ornate gates and up a long driveway.

  When they arrived in a huge stone courtyard with a bubbling fountain in the centre the car drew to a stop. Leila could see through the tinted windows to where a large handsome woman was waiting for them.

  When they were out of the vehicle Alix led Leila over to her and said, with evident fondness in his voice, ‘This is Marie-Louise, the castle manager. She and her husband risked their lives to protect some of my family’s oldest artefacts, including the Crown Jewels.’

  Leila’s engagement ring winked at her in the moonlit night. ‘That was very brave of you.’

  The woman beamed and then ushered them inside to where the castle spread out into what seemed to be a warren of imposing stone corridors and inner courtyards.

  Alix spoke to the woman in his own seductive tongue. He was obviously telling her goodnight, because she walked away from them.

  He let Leila’s hand go and indicated for her to precede him down a long corridor. It was lit by small flaming lanterns and for a moment Leila had the sensation that they might have slipped back in time and nothing would have changed.

  They were approaching a wall that held a huge wooden door, ornately carved. The guard there stood aside and bowed as Alix opened the door and led them through.

  ‘The
se are the royal family’s private apartments.’ He stopped outside another door and opened it. ‘And these are your rooms.’

  Leila felt a kind of giddy relief mixed with disappointment. She looked at Alix. ‘We won’t have to share a room?’

  Alix saw that vaguely hopeful look on Leila’s face and it made him feel rebellious. He desisted from telling her that his own parents had not shared rooms. That it would be considered perfectly normal if they had their own suites.

  He shook his head. ‘This is just until we’re married—to observe propriety.’

  Leila’s hopeful look faded and became something else—something cynical, hunted. She gestured to her belly. ‘It’s not as if people don’t know we’ve already consummated our relationship.’

  Alix had to battle the urge to remind her of just what that consummation had felt like. The magnitude of the fact that Leila was here under his roof, pregnant, was hitting him in a very deep and secret place.

  He ruthlessly pushed it down and walked into the suite. ‘I hope you’ll find the apartment comfortable.’

  Leila had followed him in and was looking around with big eyes. He saw it as if for the first time again: the understated luxury that the ruling regime had seen fit to keep for themselves. It was a little shabby now, but still with shades of its former opulent glory.

  A glory that would be fully restored.

  With his wife by his side.

  With that in mind Alix forced out all emotion and said, ‘The sleeping quarters are accessed back through the main hall. I have instructed that you are to have everything you might need.’

  Leila looked at him and he could see the faint shadows under her eyes. Like delicate bruises.

  The fact that she didn’t want to be here sat like a dense heavy stone in his chest. He ignored it. She wouldn’t have that power over him.

  ‘I’ve made an arrangement for a scan at the hospital tomorrow—apparently you’re due one about now.’

  Leila’s mouth twisted. ‘To check on the cargo? Make sure that it’s all looking good before you commit?’

  Alix gritted his jaw at the sudden urge he had to go over and slam his mouth down on hers, making those mutinous lines soften.

  ‘Something like that.’ He moved towards the door. ‘You should rest, Leila. The next few days will be busy.’

  And then he left, almost afraid that she’d see something of the lack of control he felt.

  Leila watched Alix leave. She was barely aware of the beauty of her surroundings, only vaguely aware that they’d walked through an open-air courtyard to come into the living room.

  She felt numb with tiredness, delayed shock and the lingering effects of adrenaline.

  Exploring back through the main hall, she found a bathroom off the bedroom. It was massive, with a grand central sunken tub. The dressing room was a more modern room, luxuriously carpeted and filled from floor to ceiling with clothes. A central island held hundreds of accessories in various shelves and drawers—and underwear. Underwear that made her cheeks grow hot.

  She hurriedly shut those drawers, knowing how wasted the lovely underwear would be—because clearly Alix felt no desire for her any more, despite that kiss earlier, which had just been for appearances. He’d looked at her since as if he could hardly bear to be in the same room as her.

  She ignored the pain near her heart and found the least skimpy nightwear she could find. Silk pyjamas. After conducting a rudimentary toilette and carefully putting the jewellery away in a drawer, she climbed into a bed that might have slept a football team and tried not to be too intimidated by the grandeur.

  For a long time she looked up at the ceiling. Leila couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that if Alix didn’t desire her any more, then what glue could possibly hold their union together beyond duty and a shared responsibility for their child?

  * * *

  The following early afternoon Leila was pacing in the sitting room of her lavish suite. Marie-Louise had appeared that morning with a meek-looking girl who apparently was to be Leila’s personal maid. When Leila had protested she’d been ignored and all but marched into a small dining room, where a delicious breakfast had been laid out. Her stomach had still been in knots, so she hadn’t eaten much.

  She’d explored thoroughly now, and had discovered the beautiful open-air atrium had a small pool, with glittering mosaics on the bottom and brightly coloured fish darting back and forth.

  There was also a terrace outside her bedroom doors, and a balcony that overlooked the town far below with its brightly painted houses and the harbour.

  Smells had tickled her nostrils, making her tip her head back to breathe deep. Earth, flowers, the sea, a distant wood... And then she’d realised why Alix had reacted so strongly to the scent she’d made. She’d somehow managed intuitively to recreate the scents of this island without having ever been there before.

  Hating it that she felt so hurt because he obviously didn’t wear the scent any more, Leila focused on checking herself in a nearby mirror. She’d had to pick a dress from the vast array of clothes in the dressing room as her own clothes hadn’t appeared yet. She’d chosen a simple wrap dress in a very deep blue, and matching shoes.

  She plucked at the material now, feeling that it was gaping over her breasts, which were sensitive and felt inordinately swollen.

  She put a hand on her belly, knowing that it hadn’t grown perceptibly in size, but feeling a telltale bloatedness.

  ‘How are you today?’

  Leila jumped and whirled around to see Alix behind her, hands in his pockets, dressed in a simple dark suit and white shirt. Every inch of him exuded pure masculine power and sensuality. And that new reserve tinged with disapproval.

  The carpet must have muffled his steps. She hated it that he’d caught her in a private moment like that. And that her body had immediately zapped to life in his presence, nerve endings tingling.

  She lifted her chin. ‘Time to confirm all is well with your precious heir?’

  His eyes glittered, as if he was angry at her insolence. ‘The doctor is waiting for us at the hospital.’

  Alix stood back to let Leila precede him from the room and she prayed he wouldn’t see how brittle her sense of control was.

  They walked down another seemingly unending labyrinth of imposing stone corridors and Leila had much more of a sense of the grandeur of the castle. She had to admit it: she was impressed. It was a little overwhelming, to say the least.

  As was the display when they got to the entrance of the castle and about a dozen bodyguards jumped to attention. Alix opened the passenger door of a Jeep for Leila and after she was in got in the driver’s side.

  She watched him take the wheel with easy confidence, the guards preceding them and following them.

  Slightly nervously, Leila asked, ‘You said things were precarious here—is there any danger?’

  Alix flashed her a look and she saw his jaw tighten before he said, ‘I would never put you or the baby in danger. We are being protected by the best security firm in the world.’

  Leila was slightly taken aback at his vehemence and said, ‘I didn’t mean to imply that you’d put me—us—in danger.’ She’d realised, of course, that Alix probably couldn’t care less if she was in danger. It was the baby he cared about.

  She saw his hands tighten on the wheel and then relax. ‘Forgive me. But you don’t have to worry. The opponents to the throne are small in number, and weakened after years of not living up to their promises to build an egalitarian society. They have no real power. I’ve made sure of that. Still, I would never take anything for granted—hence the protection until Isle Saint Croix is on a much more solid footing economically.’

  They were driving through the town now, and Leila could see its charm up close. She could also see that it was badly in need of sprucing up, with a general sense of neglect pervading the air.

  A few people waved at their Jeep and Alix waved back. He said now, ‘It’s going to take time for the
people to adjust to having their King back. They’re not sure how to deal with me yet.’

  Leila asked, with a feeling of something like disappointment, ‘And do you really want them bowing and scraping to you?’

  Alix looked at her again, slightly incredulous. ‘God, no. I couldn’t imagine anything worse.’

  He looked back to the road, one hand on the wheel, the other on his thigh. Which Leila found very distracting, as she remembered how those thighs had pushed hers apart so that he could sink deep—

  ‘I want to live side by side with my people. To move among them as an equal. I don’t want pomp and ceremony. But equally I want to be their leader and protector. To provide for them.’

  Leila jerked her gaze up. Alix’s voice was quiet but his words had a profound effect on her. He sounded so...protective.

  Before she could truly analyse how that made her feel she saw that they were driving into a car park outside a beleaguered-looking building.

  Alix grimaced slightly as he pulled to a stop. ‘The hospital doesn’t look like much, but it houses some of the best consultants in the world. I’ve personally put many of our medical students through college for this very purpose—to bring them home to work and teach others. We’re in the process of building a new hospital on a site nearby, and this one will be pulled down once it’s built.’

  Once again Leila was surprised to discover the depth of Alix’s commitment to his island. And to discover how little she really knew him.

  He got out of the Jeep along with a flurry of movement from the cars before and behind them, and as Alix solicitously helped her out she saw staff lining up to greet them.

  Alix kept hold of her hand and Leila figured that of course he’d want to project a united front. Promote the fairy tale that they were in love.

  She was introduced to the staff and the doctor who would be taking care of her prenatally—a genial older man. And then she was whisked away to be prepped for the scan, leaving Alix behind talking to the staff. The nurse was shy and sweet, and Leila did her best to put her at ease even though her own nerves were jumping.