Was he jealous? Would he try to talk her out of keeping her information current, want her to make it more difficult for the donor to get in touch should he ever decide he wanted to?
But then Rule only reached for her again. He eased his arm under her nape and drew her into him, bringing her to rest against his warm, hard chest. “Go to sleep.”
She closed her eyes and let the steady, even sound of his heartbeat lull her.
Of course he’d never been a sperm donor. She knew what a donor went through. She’d researched the whole process when she decided on artificial insemination. It wasn’t just a matter of doing the happy hand in a cup.
A man went through all kinds of testing before he could become a donor. Only a small percentage of applicants were accepted. A man had to donate weekly, at least, and he couldn’t have sex for two days before each donation. He also couldn’t go more than five days without ejaculating, because not often enough was as bad for sperm production as too often. Most sperm donors signed contracts for six months to a year of donations—six months to a year of having sex in a cup on a strict schedule. The money wasn’t even all that much, averaging under a hundred dollars per viable donation.
To have been her donor, Rule would have had to sign on for all of the above with the fertility clinic she had used, or an affiliate. What were the odds of that?
He was a hardworking man who traveled the world doing business for his country. Not only would being a donor be unprofitable, time-consuming and a logistical nightmare for Rule, it just…wasn’t like him. He felt so strongly about family and fatherhood. He wasn’t a man who could help to give a child life and not want to be there while that child was growing up.
Still, she didn’t get the way he’d pulled away from her when she talked about how much alike he and Trevor were, when she’d confessed that he, Rule, was pretty much her dream man come to life. He’d turned onto his back before she said anything about how she’d given permission to be contacted, so his original withdrawal really couldn’t be chalked up to apprehension that the donor might show up someday.
She didn’t like the way he’d said, You’re joking, when she’d asked him if he’d ever been a donor. He could so easily have given her a simple, direct denial.
It wasn’t that she actually suspected he might be Trevor’s biological father. She only wondered why he’d seemed so defensive and why he’d pulled away from her when she’d only been trying to tell him that he was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.
Chapter Eleven
But by the next morning, in the bright light of day, as Sydney hurried to get ready to head to the office, her vague suspicions about Rule…
Well, they seemed downright ridiculous.
He hadn’t really pulled away from her last night, had he? He’d only rolled over to his back. And when she’d asked if anything was wrong, he’d told her there was nothing.
And his seeming evasiveness when she teased him about being a sperm donor? It just didn’t strike her as all that odd now that she’d had a little time to think it over. He was very attached to Trevor. He didn’t want to dwell on the stranger who had fathered her child. She could understand that.
She decided that she would put the whole issue from her mind. She had so much work to do and not all that much time to do it in. The last thing she needed was to waste her energy stewing about stuff she’d made up in her head.
Plus, if she wanted to dwell on something, why not choose something real? Something important. Something potentially quite wonderful.
As of that morning, her period was one week late. It was beginning to look as though she and her new husband were already getting their start on that larger family they both hoped for.
But she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She had been under a lot of stress lately—meeting and marrying Rule in the space of forty-eight hours, and then having to send him away to make his apologies to the “other woman” in his life. And then there was the way she was working like crazy to finish up at the firm, planning a move halfway around the world.
Yes. Her life was especially stressful right now. And stress could really mess up a woman’s cycle.
She decided she would wait a few weeks before she said anything to Rule. No reason to get his expectations up unnecessarily—or her own, for that matter. She would let that question rest for a while, not allow herself to get too excited about it until more time had passed.
Trev was much better that morning. He seemed to be over the bout of teething pain. His temperature was normal and he was eating his breakfast cereal, chattering away, when she left for work.
He gave her a big kiss. “Come back soon, Mama!”
“Don’t you worry, I will.”
And that evening, she managed to get away from the officer earlier than usual. She was even in time to give Trev his bath before bed. Once he was in bed, Rule said he wanted to take her out to dinner.
They went to the Mansion. Sydney loved the food and service there and Rule liked it, too. The staff knew him and protected his privacy.
He made a toast. “To us. To our family. To our whole lives together.”
She clinked her wineglass with his, aglow with happiness, knowing that she had to be the most fortunate woman in all of Texas. After a couple of sips, she set her glass down and didn’t pick it up again. Might as well be cautious. Just in case she really was pregnant.
Not that she thought she was. Uh-uh. She wasn’t going there. Not yet.
* * *
Four days later, on the first Friday in May, Sydney said goodbye to Teale, Gayle and Prosser.
She left her desk clean and neat and her clients effectively shifted to other attorneys in the firm. She also departed on good terms with her former partners, all thanks to her strict dedication to doing things right—and her new husband’s willingness to share his connections.
The next week was all about packing for the move. Lani, one of the most organized human beings on the planet, had already gotten a good head start on that. But there was more to do. Sydney got to work on the rest of the job with her usual enthusiasm. They were leaving the house furnished and in the hands of an excellent Realtor.
Their passports were current. Even Trevor’s. Sydney had gotten his for him months before, when she’d been thinking of taking a vacation in Ireland.
On the second Friday in May, they boarded the private jet for Montedoro. Lani’s brother, Carlos, and her parents, Iris and Jorge, came to the airport to see them off. There were also reporters. They snapped lots of pictures and asked an endless number of way-too-personal questions.
Rule told them he had no comment at this time and Joseph herded them up the ramp and into the plane.
The flight was a long one and there was a seven-hour time difference between Dallas and their destination. They took off from Love Field at two in the afternoon and arrived at the airport in Nice at eight the next morning. A limo was waiting to whisk them to Montedoro and the Prince’s Palace. So were more paparazzi. Again, they hurried to get into the car and away from the questions and cameras.
The first sight of the palace stole Sydney’s breath. White as a dove’s wing against the clear blue sky, it was a sprawling edifice of crenellated towers and paladin windows and balconies and arches. It stood on a rocky promontory overlooking the sapphire-colored sea.
The driver took them around to a private entrance. By a little after nine, they were filing into Rule’s apartment.
After the grandeur of the arched, marble-floored hallways decorated in gorgeous mosaics, Sydney was relieved that Rule’s private space was more low-key. The furniture was simple, plush and inviting, the walls were of stucco or something similar, with tall, curving ceilings and dark wood floors covered with beautiful old rugs woven in intricate patterns, most of them deep reds and vivid blues. Balconies in the large sitting room and in the master suite opened onto stunning views of the main courtyard and the crowns of the palms and mimosas, the olive and oak trees that covered the hil
lside below. Farther out, the Mediterranean, dotted here and there with pretty sailboats and giant cruise ships, shone in the afternoon sun.
The palace staff set right to work unpacking and putting everything away. In no time, that job was done and the soft-spoken, efficient maids had vanished. Lani retreated to her room at one end of the apartment, probably to work on her novel or jot down her first impressions of Montedoro in her journal. Trev sat on a glorious red rug in the sitting room playing with his plastic blocks, and Rule was off somewhere conferring with his private secretary, Caroline.
For a while, Sydney leaned on the carved stone balcony railing, the doors to the sitting room wide open behind her, and stared out at the boats floating on the impossibly blue sea. There was a soft breeze, like the lightest brush of silk against her skin. She felt tempted to pinch herself. It almost seemed like a dream that they were actually here, in Montedoro, at last.
And it got even better. Her period was now almost three weeks late. She had no morning sickness, but she’d had none with Trev, either. What she did have were breasts.
They weren’t huge or anything, but they were definitely fuller, and more sensitive than usual. That was the same as with Trev, too.
Another baby. She put her hand against her flat stomach, the way mothers had been doing since the beginning of time. Another baby. When she’d had Trevor, she’d told herself to be grateful for one. And she had been. So very grateful.
But now, well, she was pretty much positive she would be having her second. Incredible. Talk about impossible dreams coming true.
She’d bought a home test the week before. And today, as she leaned on the stone railing and admired the sea, she was thinking it was about time to take the test.
And about time to tell Rule that their family was growing.
“Mama! Come. Play…”
She turned to smile at her son, who had stacked several brightly colored blocks into a rickety tower and waved two more at her, one in each chubby hand. “All right, sweetheart. Let’s play.” She went and sat on the rug with him.
“Here, Mama.” He handed her a drool-covered block. Lately, as his back teeth came in, anything he got his little hands on ended up with drool on it.
“Thank you.” She wiped the drool off on her jeans and hooked the block at the base of his tower. As long as she was helping, she might as well improve the stability a tad.
A few moments later, Rule appeared. Trev cried his name in sheer delight, “Roo!” And he came right over and scooped him high into his big arms. “Roo, we play blocks!”
“I can see that. Quite a fine tower you have there.”
“Mama helps.”
“Oh, yes, she does.” Rule gave her a smile. Her heart did a couple of somersaults. “My parents are impatient to meet you.”
“I’m eager to meet them.” She gazed up at him from her cross-legged seat on the red rug and wondered if there was a woman alive as fortunate as she. At the same time, she was just a little nervous to be meeting his mom and dad, aka Their Highnesses, for the first time. “But maybe I need a few tips on palace protocol first… .”
He shook his head as he kissed the fingers that Trev was trying to stick into his mouth. “We’re invited to their private apartment at six. We’ll visit, you’ll get to know them a little. Then we’ll have an early meal. There will be no ceremony, no protocol to observe. Just the family. Just us. Together.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“I knew you would think so.” He asked Trev, “How about you, young man? Ready to meet your new grandpa and grandma?”
Trev beamed. “Yes!”
* * *
The sovereign’s apartments were larger than Rule’s, but even the private foyer had a welcoming quality about it. She got the sense that real people lived there. The floor was marble, inlaid with ebony and jade, and the chandelier was a fabulous creation of ironwork and crystal. But the hall table had a bowl filled with shells on it and a family photo taken outside, beneath the wide-spreading branches of a gnarled oak tree. Sydney barely had time to pick out a much-younger Rule from the nine children arrayed at the feet of the two handsome dark-haired parents, before the thin, severe-looking woman who had opened the door to them was leading them on, down a hallway lined with oil portraits of princely relatives, the men wearing uniforms loaded down with ribbons and medals and the women resplendent in fancy ball gowns and glittering tiaras.
Rule had hold of Sydney’s hand. He carried Trev high against his chest on his other arm. As they approached the end of the hall, he squeezed her fingers. She sent him a smile and squeezed back, all too aware of the fluttery, anxious sensation in her stomach.
The hallway ended at a sitting room. The tall woman nodded and left them. The same dark-haired man and woman as in the picture in the foyer rose from a matched pair of gold-trimmed velvet chairs to greet them.
“At last,” said the woman, who was tall, full-figured and quite beautiful. She seemed ageless to Sydney. She could have been anywhere from forty to sixty. She had the eyes of an Egyptian goddess and a wide, radiantly smiling mouth. “Come. Come to me.” She held out slender arms.
Sydney might have stood there, gaping in admiration at Rule’s mom forever. Luckily, he still had her hand. He started forward and she went with him.
Then, all at once, they were there.
Rule said, “Mother. Father. This is Sydney, my wife.”
And then Rule’s mom was reaching for her, gathering her into those slender arms. “Sydney,” she said, with such warmth and fondness. “I’m so pleased you’re here with us.”
“Uh. Hello.” Smooth, Sydney. Very smooth. Really, she should have insisted that Rule at least tell her what to call this amazing creature. Your Highness? Your Sovereign Highness? Your Total Magnificence? What?
And then Rule’s mom took her by the shoulders. She gave her a conspirator’s grin. “You shall call me Adrienne, of course—except during certain state functions, before which, I promise you will be thoroughly briefed.”
“Adrienne,” Sydney breathed in relief. “Rule speaks of you often, and with deep affection.”
Those Egyptian eyes gleamed. “I am so pleased he has found what he was seeking—and just in time, too.”
And then Rule was saying, “And this is Trevor.”
Rule’s mom turned to bestow that glowing smile on Trev. “Yes. Trevor, I…” HSH Adrienne’s sentence died unfinished. She blinked and shot a speaking glance at Prince Evan. It only lasted a split second, and then she recovered and continued, “Lovely to meet you.” Trevor, suddenly shy, buried his head against Rule’s neck. Adrienne laughed. She had an alto laugh, a little husky, and compelling. “How are you, Trevor?”
“I fine,” Trevor muttered, his head still pressed tight to Rule.
Rule rubbed his back. “Say, ‘Hello, Grandmother. So nice to meet you.’”
It was a lot of words for a suddenly shy little boy. But he said them, “’Lo, Gamma. Nice to meet you,” with his face still smashed into Rule’s neck.
“And it’s a delight to meet you, as well.” Adrienne loosed that husky musical laugh again.
And then Trevor’s dad was taking Sydney’s hand. “A Texas girl,” he said in a voice as smooth and rich and deep as his son’s. “Always a good choice.”
Sydney thanked him and thought that he was almost as good-looking as his wife. No wonder Rule was drop-dead gorgeous. How could he be otherwise with a mom and dad like these two?
They all sat down. The severe-looking woman reappeared and offered cocktails. They sipped their drinks and Evan wanted to know about her parents. So she told them that she had lost them very young and been raised by her grandmother. They were sympathetic and admiring, of her Grandma Ellen and of the successes Sydney had achieved in her life. They knew she was an attorney and asked about her work. She explained a little about her experiences at Teale, Gayle and Prosser.
The talk shifted to Rule and the progress on his various projects. It was a bit formal,
Sydney thought. But in a nice, getting-to-know-you sort of way.
She was so proud of Trev. He sat quietly on Rule’s lap for a while, watching the adults, big dark eyes tracking from one face to another. Both Adrienne and Evan seemed taken with him. They kept sending him warm looks and smiles.
Slowly, Trev was drawn in. After twenty minutes or so, during a slight lull in the conversation, he held out his arms to Adrienne. “Gamma. Hug, please.”
Adrienne reached for him and Rule passed him over. She wore a gorgeous designer jacket and a silk dress underneath. Sydney worried a little that Trev would drool on Her Highness’s lovely outfit.
But Adrienne didn’t seem concerned. She hugged him and kissed his cheek and he allowed it, all shyness fled.
Lani appeared about half an hour into the visit, ushered in by the thin woman. After a brief introduction, she took Trevor with her back to their rooms.
The rest of them went in to dinner, where they were joined by two of Rule’s brothers—Maximilian, the heir apparent, who’d come up from his villa to meet Rule’s bride, and Alexander, the one who’d been a prisoner in Afghanistan.
Sydney liked Maximilian from the first. He was almost as handsome as Rule and he seemed to her to be a kind man, and very charismatic. He had sad eyes, though. She remembered what Rule had told her, about Max losing his wife in a water-skiing accident, and wondered if he was still grieving the loss.
It was difficult to like Alex. He was darkly handsome like the rest of the family, but more powerfully built and very quiet. He seemed…angry. Or perhaps sunk in some deep depression. Sydney supposed his attitude wasn’t all that surprising. She imagined that being kept prisoner by terrorists would give anyone a bad attitude. But she could easily see why he and Princess Lili didn’t get along. Sydney doubted that Alex got along with anyone.
Rule’s other brother, Alex’s twin, Damien, was something of a jet-setter. He was off on a friend’s yacht. Two of his sisters, the youngest and second-youngest, Rory and Genevra, were away at school. Alice and Rhiannon were at an event in Luxembourg. And the oldest sister, Arabella, had gone to Paris. When they were home from school, Rory and Genevra still lived at the palace. The three older sisters had their own villas.
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