The air between us is thick. My heart rattles against my ribcage as I can’t quite take a full breath. Words still won’t come.
He’s here, so he must care about the baby…about me.
But the way he’s looking at me is making me pause. Neither of us moves. Maybe he’s just here out of duty? Maybe he doesn’t want me at all?
Worry knots in my stomach as my heart races. My sweating intensifies. I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and my limbs feel heavy.
I shouldn’t have told him about the baby. What if the only reason he’s here is because he feels he has to be? I’m just another responsibility dumped on his lap.
Theo just stands there as another second ticks by. His tongue slides out to lick his lips, and then he steps toward me.
The tension breaks.
He slides his hand over my waist and pulls me close, using his other hand to cup my cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine.
Instead of answering his question, I just wrap my arms around his neck. “Your sling is off.” It feels good to have both of his arms wrapped around me.
The Prin—the King’s—breath catches, and he closes his eyes for just a moment. “I want you, Cara. I want you beside me, always. I want to be a father to our child. I want to wake up beside you every morning. I feel…” His voice cracks, and I can’t take it anymore.
I tilt my head up and brush my lips against his. Gently. Tentatively. Hesitantly.
Theo isn’t tentative. He doesn’t hesitate. He tightens his hold on my waist and pulls me close, pressing his chest to mine. His lips part as he claims my mouth. He kisses me like never before, showing me exactly how he feels.
My heart flies. I kiss him back, letting go of all my fears and insecurities. I let go of everything that brought me to Juilliard. Everything I thought I wanted.
What I want is love. Acceptance. The freedom to be me. I don’t want the freedom to run away. I want the freedom to choose.
Theo slides his hand over my cheek, tangling his fingers into my hair. He holds me close, kissing me more fiercely than ever before.
The King of Argyle stands in my tiny, dingy New York apartment, kissing me like there’s no one else in the world. His touch feels like heaven. His kiss is all-encompassing. He holds me close, and my world is complete.
Pulling back, the King looks into my eyes.
“Come back to Argyle with me, Cara. Be my wife. Have my child.”
I run my fingers over his cheeks and take a shaky breath. I gulp, trying to find the words to say what I’m thinking. This is a whirlwind, and I want to make sure we don’t jump into anything. But Theo’s looking at me so earnestly, so lovingly, that I’m starting to believe this is real.
I drag my eyes up to his. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this because of the baby.”
Theo’s lips tug. His eyes glimmer, and he shakes his head. “Don’t be silly, Cara.”
“I’m serious. This is a big decision.”
“Maybe,” he replies. His arm is still slung around my waist, and he sways gently with me in his arms. “But it feels easy. I want to be with you, Cara. The only reason I didn’t tell you earlier was because I didn’t want to hold you back. I wanted to let you chase your dreams.”
“My dreams have changed,” I whisper.
“So have mine.”
“You don’t want to be King alone anymore?”
Theo smiles before kissing my forehead. He lets out a long breath, then shakes his head. “I don’t want to do it on my own anymore. I want to do it with you.”
My heart expands more and more and more, until it feels like my ribcage is going to explode. The King holds me close and presses his lips to mine, telling me a thousand things without saying a word. His hands explore my body, tugging at my clothing until he splays his palms over my bare back. He slides his hands down to my waistband, groaning as he touches my curves.
His hands are reverent. His kiss is loving. His eyes hold the entire universe, and right now, it belongs to me.
I push his shirt off his shoulders and suck a breath in through my lips. My heart thumps as my hands skim over his brawn, igniting that familiar heat in my core.
It’s a fire that only Theo can light. Heat that only he can create. Energy that flows only when he’s near.
And that’s how I know that this is real, and it’s worth it. Worth changing my dreams for. Worth making decisions I never thought I’d make.
We undress each other slowly, without saying a word. Theo picks me up and wraps my arms around his waist, carrying me to the bedroom. He lays me down on the bed, caging me underneath his broad body.
I nip at his bottom lip, aching for him. Needing him. Wanting to give him everything all over again.
In the back of my mind, as Theo’s eyes darken, I wonder if he means it. Does he know what he’s signing up for? Is this really what he wants?
Or is he just doing what he’s always done—exactly what’s expected of him? Is this just another responsibility to him? Another burden?
Theo kisses my lips, my neck, my clavicle. I try to push the thoughts away and mostly manage to do it. I give myself to him, even if it’s just for tonight. Even if he’s only here out of duty. Even if this happiness budding in my heart will be snatched away all over again.
27
Theo
Making love to Cara is the sweetest joy. It makes everything else pale in comparison. Tangled in the bedsheets with her, I know that coming here was the right decision. I couldn’t have gone another day without seeing her. Inhaling her. Tasting her. Loving her.
As we lay in bed in post-coital bliss, I trail my fingers over her perfect body. She shivers, smiling.
“That’s nice.”
Sparks fly from my fingertips to her skin. Goosebumps rise on her skin wherever I touch it, and I know that there’s something between us worth cherishing.
“Cara,” I say softly.
“Mm?” Her eyes are closed.
“I love you.”
When she looks at me, her eyes are misty. A soft smile stretches over her lips, and she reaches over to rake her fingers through my hair.
“I love you too, Theo.”
My heart grows. It bangs inside my chest, beating for her. For us. For our love.
“Will you come back with me?”
Cara laughs. “Of course I’ll come back with you, Theo.”
“What about all this?”
Glancing around the bedroom, Cara arches an eyebrow. She throws her arms behind her head, letting her gaze fall on all the old pieces of furniture in the room. “What, all this luxury?”
“You know what I mean. What about Juilliard? What about singing?”
Cara takes a deep breath. She moves her hand to her stomach, tracing a small circle below her belly button. “I can sing anywhere.”
“You can’t get this kind of education anywhere. I don’t want you to give everything up and then regret it.”
Cara looks at me, smiling softly. “When I came here, I already felt like I’d given everything up. Every step that I took away from you felt like a mistake. It tortured me. The thought of being apart hurt more than I could have imagined. The only thing that kept me going was this baby.” She spreads her fingers over her stomach. “I knew I had a piece of you inside me.”
“I never wanted you to leave. Ever since our solstice sailing trip, it killed me to be apart from you.”
Cara smiles softly, shaking her head. “We’re just two clueless idiots, aren’t we? We can’t say what we really feel.”
“Watch it,” I growl. “You’re talking to your liege.”
“You going to arrest me?” Cara arches an eyebrow, then cracks a smile. She takes a deep breath, rolling over to place her head on my shoulder. Her fingers explore my chest, trailing back and forth across my pecs. Shivers of pleasure follow her touch, and I kiss the top of her head.
Cara sighs. “I use
d to feel like staying in Argyle was failure,” she says.
“And now you don’t?”
“Now, I think the failure is doing something that you feel you have to do. Me coming here, leaving home, doing something that wasn’t prescribed—that was just something I felt I had to do for my own pride. When I strip it all away, what do I really want?”
Silence hangs between us.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “What do you want?”
Cara lifts her head, smiling. “You,” she says simply. “I want you.”
We head back to Argyle the next day. I keep checking to make sure Cara’s certain. That she knows what she’s giving up, and she definitely wants to come back.
Cara’s face is radiant, and she just smiles at me. “Theo, stop. This is what I want.” Her hand moves to her stomach and her smile widens. She tilts her head, staring at me. “Are you sure this is what you want? You’re not just doing this because I got pregnant and you feel like you have to?”
Her eyes drill into mine, and I feel like Cara’s more serious about that question than she’s letting on.
My heart thumps. I nod. “I want this, Cara.”
I never thought I wanted children. I’ve been so convinced that I’m better off on my own and that I didn’t want to share my life with anyone.
But now, the thought of having a child with Cara makes the whole world brighter. The rest of my life doesn’t seem like a prison of duty to the Crown. Happiness and hope bloom in my heart in a way that I never thought was possible.
With Cara, it’s possible. More than possible—it’s a reality.
I’m going to marry her and be the father of our children.
As we board the private jet that will take us back to Argyle, Cara settles into her seat and slips her hand into mine. She leans her head against the headrest, letting a soft smile drift over her face.
“You know, I thought that leaving New York would mean giving up my dreams. That’s not what it feels like at all. It feels like leaving behind the old me for something even better.”
“What’s that?”
“You,” she answers, squeezing my hand. “And a new life together.” Her smile slips for a second, and she takes a deep breath. “What about Luca?”
I sigh, staring forward as the plane starts to taxi. Cara’s hand is still securely in mine, and I’m not letting her go. Not for anything.
“Luca will come around.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will. He has to. I can’t imagine my life without you, Cara. We have a child to take care of now.”
“I don’t want to be the wedge that comes between you and your brother.”
“You’re not a wedge between anything. It might take time, but Luca will understand. He pushed you away, and things happen. We have a family now. You’re carrying the heir to the throne of Argyle.”
Cara sighs, nodding. “Okay.”
We fall silent. The plane turns onto the runway, and the pilot starts picking up speed. Within a minute, we’re in the air. We leave JFK Airport behind us, cruising through the air toward our home.
Because that’s what Argyle is—home. With Cara at my side, Argyle is the only home I want.
Cara stares out the window, and a lump forms in my throat.
I know she’s worried about Luca, but there’s not much else I can say. I’m not giving her up. Not again. Not for the sake of my brother’s pride, when all he did was toss her aside like a used tissue. If he doesn’t like the fact that I’m with her, that’s his problem.
I just hope Cara sees it that way, too. I hope she believes me when I say that I love her and I want her beside me. I hope she realizes that if I ever have to choose between her and Luca, I’ll choose her every time.
As soon as we land, a car is waiting to drive us to the doctor’s pavilion near the palace. Cara puts a hand on her stomach, sucking in a breath through her teeth.
“You haven’t been to see a doctor since you were here?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No one even knows about the pregnancy except you, the royal doctor, and Cathy.”
When we pull up outside the doctor’s office, we’re ushered inside immediately. We’re taken to the same office as before, and the doctor enters a minute later. He bows to both me and Cara before sitting at his computer and bringing up Cara’s file.
“Now, Ms. Shoal, you haven’t had a checkup since our initial visit, is that right?”
“That’s right. Theo—uh, His Majesty—insisted I come straight here.”
The doctor glances at me, and I think I see a hint of approval in his gaze. He nods, tapping a few notes on his computer. “Looks like it’s been about seven weeks since the time of conception. It’s time to check on this baby. Have you ever had an ultrasound before, Ms. Shoal?”
Cara shakes her head. For the next few minutes, the doctor explains the process before setting Cara up on a bed. He squeezes some clear gel onto her abdomen before placing a wand on her belly.
Cara’s eyes shine, and all I can think about is how badly I want to make her my wife. Visions of a child or three running around the palace grounds with us flood my mind. Cara could teach them to swim, and I’m sure Dante would have them on a computer as soon as they could sit still. They’ll be drowned in love from everyone around.
If it’s a girl, I know my father will melt. He won’t be able to resist a little baby girl. Hell—neither will I.
Excitement and pure, white-hot terror flood through me as the doctor stares at the screen. Fatherhood is a much bigger responsibility than wearing the Crown, but it fills me with so much joy, it’s almost indescribable. I hold Cara’s hand as if it’s the one thing keeping me grounded on earth. If I let go, I might float away into fatherly bliss.
Then, the doctor grunts. His brows draw together, and he slides the transducer over Cara’s stomach again.
“Hmm,” he says, as if that’ll help anything.
“What?” My voice is hard. My heart thumps.
“Nothing to worry about just yet,” the doctor says, putting the wand down and calling a nurse. “We’ll take a few blood tests and check back in two days.”
“Is something wrong?” Cara’s eyes have gone from soft happiness to hard, cold fear.
“Usually, at seven weeks, I’d be able to see the embryo via ultrasound. It’s unusual not to see it, but we’ll run some more tests to make sure everything is normal.” He smiles at the two of us, but if he thinks it’ll soothe my nerves, he’s wrong.
A nurse comes in and helps Cara clean up. I pace the room and the doctor writes notes.
Fantasies of my future children start to crumble before my very eyes. As much as the doctor smiles, I can tell by the deep lines in his forehead and the curve in his shoulder that he’s not telling us everything.
He’s worried, and so am I. My happiness with Cara is hanging in the balance, and I already know something’s wrong.
28
Cara
Ectopic pregnancy.
I’d never heard those two words before, but now they play on repeat in my brain. There’s no room for words, or sentences, or hope, because the only thing I can think about are those two ugly words. Over, and over, and over again.
I took a blood test after my ultrasound, and then another one two days later. That confirmed it.
My pregnancy is non-viable.
Is that language supposed to make it easier? Non-viable. Saying it that way is cold. Clinical.
Completely fucking devastating.
There’s no room for grief between non and viable. There’s no space for me to understand that everything that has given me strength never even existed at all.
After the doctor confirmed it, he told me I had to have an injection with a drug I couldn’t pronounce. Keeping the pregnancy would be extremely dangerous for me. The egg implanted itself in my Fallopian tube, which could rupture if the embryo grows.
I have no choice. I’m confused. Hurt. Destroyed.
&n
bsp; I asked for a few days, and the doctor reluctantly agreed. After we got the diagnosis, Theo brought me back to his chambers and sat in a chair, staring at the floor.
After a while, he took a deep breath. “I’d better delay the wedding preparations,” he’d said, shattering my heart with six words. Then, he left the room, and I’ve been alone ever since.
Alone with my non-viable ectopic pregnancy, and the baby that will never be.
Alone with my thoughts that circle around and around and around.
Alone with the crippling thoughts of what’s to come.
The injection. The loss.
Is it possible to lose something you never had? I never had this baby. Not really. But in my mind, it was real. It was the one thing that made my life have purpose. It was the one thing that gave me the courage to tell Theo how I felt. It gave me the freedom to let go of my old dreams, and chase after my new ones.
Now what do I have left?
Theo’s been gone for over an hour. I don’t even know if he wants me anymore. Maybe his whole grand romantic gesture—coming to New York to bring me home, telling me he loved me, saying he wanted our baby—it’s all changed now.
If we’re not having a baby together, does he still want me? Did he only come and bring me back to Argyle out of duty? Maybe the love he felt for me was only because he knew that I was carrying his child, and he didn’t want the controversy to crop up later in his time as King.
Minutes tick by, and my thoughts become more and more bitter.
I gave up everything to come back. My place at Juilliard. My independence. My future.
Now what?
Theo could turn around and tell me he doesn’t want me anymore, because I’m no longer the mother of his child. I was a problem before. A potential controversy. A scandal waiting to happen.
Marrying me was a convenient solution.
What happens when the problem disappears? Does he still want me at all?
Why. Isn’t. He. Here.
The pillow is soaked with my tears. My face is swollen and my hair is matted. Everything aches, most of all my heart.
Knocked Up by the Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 16
