by Kate Hardy
The bathroom was huge, too: a marble floor and marble walls, a deep bathtub, a shower cubicle with an enormous shower head and what looked like jets coming out of the walls, a gilt mirror above the sink, and a shelf that was already stocked with toiletries and a new toothbrush still in its packaging. She recognised the brands as ones that she couldn’t even afford as special presents when they were discounted in the post-Christmas sales. This was sheer unadulterated luxury, and a whole world away from her normal life.
‘I hope these are OK,’ he said, gesturing to the shelf.
‘I... Thank you.’ She’d work out later how to replace the toiletries for him. It would put quite a hole in her budget, but she’d always been good at juggling.
‘Gina bought a couple of changes of clothes for you,’ he said, ‘and she put them away in the wardrobe and the dressing table. Though if you’d prefer a different room, I can move everything for you.’
He’d managed to arrange clothes for her already? She stared at him in surprise. ‘But I only gave you that list an hour ago!’
He shrugged. ‘Picco Innevato might look small, but there are a few shops here. As I said, the village is used as a ski resort in winter, and people come for the hiking in the summer.’
If it was a touristy place, then the clothes sold here would be by expensive designer boutiques rather than cheap and cheerful chain stores or supermarkets, she thought.
As if he was guessing what she was thinking, he said gently, ‘It’s my fault that you’re here as my guest, so I’m simply providing you with a couple of changes of clothes, just as any of my family would do for a guest staying here. The same goes for the toiletries. There are no strings, Tia, and I’ll be very offended if you offer to pay for them.’
Although Tia wanted to argue and tell him that she could manage to buy her own clothes, thank you very much, she had the baby to think about—and the fact that she’d be on maternity leave in a couple of months, reducing her budget even further. Which meant she’d have to swallow her pride and accept his kindness. ‘Thank you,’ she said, feeling miserable and selfish and totally mixed up. She had never relied on anyone in her life, and she didn’t want to start now. But, for the sake of the baby and her mother, she might have to.
It would help if she had a better idea of what he wanted. The man, not the Prince. But how could she ask without sounding ungrateful? She was stuck.
‘Take your time settling in,’ he said. ‘If you want to take a bath or shower to freshen up, or have a nap, that’s fine. We’re not on palace time. And call your mother to let her know you’re here safely. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.’
‘Thank you.’
He left her to look over the clothes. And they were utterly gorgeous—a couple of long-sleeved silky maternity tops, a pair of maternity trousers, a soft cashmere cardigan, a smart black skirt and a pretty floral tunic dress. There was underwear, too, and maternity tights. Three pairs of pyjamas, with soft jersey trousers and lace-trimmed matching camisole tops.
Tia’s eyes filled with tears. They were so pretty. And this was so kind of his housekeeper, to do this for a complete stranger.
* * *
Antonio made himself a coffee, but he didn’t feel as relaxed as he usually did here in his bolt-hole.
What was he going to do about Tia Phillips?
He saw her through a haze of guilt: his best friend’s little sister. The woman he should’ve supported after her brother’s death, but he’d let her down. The woman he’d let comfort him. The woman he’d made pregnant—albeit unknowingly—and abandoned.
The woman, if he was honest with himself, who made him feel different—as if he was more than just the younger Prince of Casavalle or a team commander. She made him feel as if she saw right through the pomp and the public face to the man behind it. Just like that night they’d spent together, when she’d comforted him and let him comfort her: he had no idea why, but she’d broken through all his barriers. Though he didn’t want to examine it too closely and work out why she was the only one who’d made him feel that way. Emotional stuff made him antsy because he’d never really learned how to deal with it—and he didn’t want to deal with it now. Duty was much, much easier than emotion.
Just put it down to sexual attraction, he told himself, and move on.
Because his duty to Casavalle had to come first. He had to think about the baby and what it would mean for his country. And then he would do the right thing.
Miles would be discreet, Antonio knew. So he had a breathing space before he had to tell his family the truth about the ‘personal matters to attend to’ he’d texted them about. And he had absolutely no idea how they would react to the news of the baby. His mother would be furious. His brother—although Luca knew that Tia had tried to contact Antonio, he didn’t know why, so he would be shocked. Gabriella... She was an ‘unexpected’ baby herself, so she might have a different viewpoint.
But he knew they’d all be disappointed in him.
What he’d done had been very far from honourable, even though it was completely unintentional. And he needed to fix the situation. Now.
He’d never thought he’d settle down and have children. When they’d been growing up, it was always assumed that Luca—as the eldest son—would take over from their father, and Luca would be the one who had to marry someone suitable and produce the next heir to the throne. The arrangement with Princess Meribel had happened years ago, so Antonio had had the freedom to join the army, travelling the world and taking on dangerous missions. He’d loved every second of his job and he’d relished his freedom. He’d been planning to go back to the army once Luca was settled as the King of Casavalle—or Gabriella as the new Queen. Either way, his time in Casavalle had been temporary.
Now... Now it was different. He was going to be a father. Going back to the army and putting himself in danger was less of an option now. He had responsibilities: emotional as well as financial.
And that was the problem.
Emotional stuff. The thing he found difficult.
Growing up, he remembered both of his parents being very formal and his father had been distant. Antonio couldn’t remember his father ever hugging him, or saying he loved his younger son, or saying that he was proud of him. He’d worked hard in the army and he’d earned his promotions through merit, not through his connections; but King Vincenzo had never acknowledged that or made any comment about how hard his son had worked. Queen Maria was warmer but, like his father, she’d always encouraged him to put his civic duty before his feelings.
And, although Antonio had dated plenty of women, he’d never felt a real connection with any of them. He’d enjoyed their company, but had always made it clear right from the start that the relationship was strictly short term.
Except for Tia, a little voice said in his head.
Tia Phillips, with her soft brown eyes, her tumble of black curls, and her petite frame that hid amazing inner strength. When he had seen her again today in the palace, he’d felt that leap of his pulse, the slow burn of pleasure that was more intense than he’d ever experienced with anyone else. If he was honest with himself, she was the only person he’d ever really felt connected to. That night in London when they’d shared their grief over losing her brother and held each other tightly. That night when she’d broken through all his barriers. The night when they’d made a baby...
The baby.
Antonio took the photograph she’d given him from his wallet. The baby was lying on his back, knees up, and one arm was raised so Antonio could see a tiny hand. Fingers.
Their baby.
He dragged in a breath. It was miraculous and terrifying at the same time.
And Tia had been dealing with this alone.
The more he thought about it, the more he knew he had to do the right thing by her. Marry her, make their child legitimate, support her. And she’d look
ed so worried when she’d sat in the palace secretary’s office, waiting to tell him the news. Guilt squeezed his insides again as he thought about it. Did she really think he’d abandon her for a third time?
Then again, he hadn’t given her any reason to think he’d do anything else. He’d abandoned her and her mother after breaking the news of Nathan’s death, and he hadn’t got in touch again after the charity gala. Where Tia was concerned, he had a really terrible track record.
So when she came downstairs, he’d reassure her. Tell her they would get married.
On the other hand, he knew that Tia was an independent woman. Extremely independent, according to Nathan; she’d spent her life being their mother’s carer, putting her own dreams aside. Dreams of travelling the world and becoming a primary school teacher, so Nathan had said.
In that case, would she even agree to marry him, even though it was the right thing for the baby?
But Antonio knew it was the right thing to do. If they got married, he could fulfil his duties as the baby’s father, and he could help Tia with her mother. He could bring Grace Phillips over to Casavalle, where the climate might be better for her health and she’d have access to much more support than she had in London. Then Tia would be able to be Grace’s daughter rather than her carer; and, although Tia would need to support him in his royal duties so she wouldn’t have the time to become a primary school teacher, she would at least be able to travel the world with him.
And maybe Luca—or Gabriella, whichever of them was crowned—would allow him to have some kind of special responsibilities for education, so Tia could fulfil her dreams that way, working with him.
He had the whole thing sorted perfectly in his head by the time Tia came downstairs.
‘Is everything all right? Is there anything you need?’ he asked.
‘Thank you, everything’s lovely. I’m fine.’
He noticed there was a slight disconnect between her words and her expression; although she was smiling, it didn’t reach her eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what was wrong, but she definitely wasn’t fine. ‘Tea?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you.’
Or maybe she was worrying about his reaction to the baby. Maybe she needed reassurance. He could sort that out right now.
‘Let’s go into the conservatory,’ he said.
Giacomo had tactfully gone to his own room, giving Antonio and Tia the space they needed to talk.
Tia let the Prince usher her through to the conservatory and settle her on one of the comfortable sofas.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘There’s a very simple solution to this. We’ll get married.’
* * *
Married?
Just like that?
Tia stared at him in disbelief.
Of course Prince Antonio didn’t want to marry her. He didn’t love her. He clearly didn’t feel anything towards her except a sense of duty and honour. He hadn’t hugged her, he hadn’t told her he’d missed her—in fact, he’d barely even touched her other than to support her elbow as she’d climbed the steps to the plane, which she was fairly sure he’d do for any female he accompanied because it was a very regal and very polite thing to do. And, even though her skin had tingled when his hand had accidentally brushed against hers, she was pretty sure it hadn’t been the same for him.
Prince Antonio of the House of Valenti was an unemotional machine.
Yes, he could put people at their ease—because that was what royals were trained to do. It was all about duty, where he was concerned. He hadn’t brought her here to his bolt-hole because he wanted to spend time with her, but because he needed to get her away from the media and protect his family’s privacy.
His suggestion of marriage was utterly ridiculous. She hadn’t come here to demand he do the old-fashioned ‘right thing’ by her; her sole intention had been to let him know about the baby’s existence and then leave. She’d managed the six months of her pregnancy so far perfectly well without him, and she’d manage the birth and their child’s life in exactly the same way.
She’d been born to a couple who hadn’t been married but who had loved each other deeply and who’d adored their children. OK, so maybe it had turned out that her dad was wrong about marriage being just a bit of paper; but she understood where he was coming from. You should be with someone because you loved them and the world felt like a better place because they were in it, not because you were bound by a contract.
No way was Tia getting married to a man who didn’t want her and who saw their baby as a burden and a duty. That was the complete opposite of what her parents had had. It wasn’t what she wanted. At all. Yes, it was honourable of him to suggest the marriage, and she appreciated that: but marriage would be completely the wrong thing for both of them.
‘No,’ she said.
Antonio looked taken aback.
Which wasn’t so surprising: she very much doubted he’d ever heard the word ‘no’ when he was growing up. Everyone around him was more likely to have said, ‘Yes, Your Royal Highness,’ bowed deeply and done exactly what the little imperious Prince had demanded.
‘No?’ he asked, clearly expecting her to say she’d made a mistake and of course she would marry him.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Why?’
Because you’re an automaton who has no real emotions.
Not that it would be tactful to say so. But she could still tell him the rest of the truth.
‘Because,’ she said, ‘you don’t love me. You’re asking me to marry you because of the baby. Because you think it’s the honourable thing to do.’ Hadn’t he talked about honour before, about not letting Princess Meribel take the blame for her own actions even though she’d been the one to behave badly? ‘That isn’t what I want. So I’m not going to marry you.’
He blew out a breath. ‘Tia, this baby is fourth in line to the throne.’
‘Not if I don’t marry you, he isn’t.’
Antonio’s eyes widened. ‘The baby’s definitely a boy?’
‘I don’t know. They can’t always tell on a scan, and I chose not to find out. But I don’t want to call the baby “it”; he’s a person, not a thing.’
‘Fair enough.’ Antonio looked at her. ‘But I don’t understand how you can say that my child isn’t in line to the throne.’
‘Because surely any heir to the throne has to be legitimate?’ she asked. ‘Which means we have a very obvious solution to the problem. If you don’t marry me, then the baby isn’t legitimate and therefore won’t be your heir—and that means you have no legal obligations to either of us.’
‘It’s a matter of honour,’ he said stiffly.
Just what she’d thought. This was all about honour, not love. ‘My parents loved each other deeply,’ she said quietly, ‘and I’m not settling for anything less than that. My answer’s still no. I won’t marry you.’
He frowned. ‘Tia, I know I’ve let you down twice now, and I apologise deeply for that. But I won’t make that mistake a third time.’
No, he wouldn’t—because she wasn’t giving him the chance to do that. She spread her hands. ‘I’m not making any demands on you whatsoever. I’ve already explained to you that I told you about the baby purely out of courtesy. Because I thought you ought to know. Not because I expected anything from you. Marriage isn’t an option.’
He raked a hand through his hair, and the slight disarray made him look more human. Touchable. Not the cold, emotionless Prince who’d greeted her at the palace, but Antonio the man.
Oh, help. She needed to get a grip.
Touching really wasn’t what she should be thinking about right now.
Touching was what had got her into this situation in the first place. Holding him, because she’d felt sorry for him and thought that a hug would comfort both of them. Except hugging had turned to kissing, which had t
urned to him carrying her to his bed, which had turned out to be the most amazing night of her life...
Antonio Valenti wasn’t the only man she’d slept with, but he was the only one she’d felt a real connection to. He’d made her feel different. Special, as if she was really important to him. The differences between their social positions hadn’t mattered; it had been just the two of them, and that night she’d felt as if the Prince had seen her for who she really was, not just the cheerful waitress with a complicated home life. She’d responded to him on a deeper level than she had to anyone else before; it was a fact that scared her and thrilled her in equal measure. She didn’t want to be emotionally dependent on a man who kept his emotions in check all the time. She definitely didn’t want to fall in love with someone who couldn’t love her back.
But between them that night they’d managed to make a baby.
Now she was facing the consequences.
What should she do now?
Antonio was gorgeous. A total fairy-tale prince, except he was real. And that weird feeling she got when she looked at him—it wasn’t the baby kicking. It felt more as if her heart was doing some kind of weird somersault, something that wasn’t even anatomically possible.
But how could he ever be really hers? He had responsibilities towards his country, so if he ever settled down with someone it’d have to be for dynastic reasons. His wife would probably have to be at least the daughter of a duke, if not an actual princess.
Which meant there was no real future in any relationship between Antonio and herself, despite the baby and his offer of marriage just now. He probably shouldn’t even have asked her to marry him without checking with the palace first. If she let herself act on the pull she felt towards him, she’d just be making a fool of herself, and it wouldn’t help either of them. She needed to be cool-headed and calm. And utterly, utterly sensible. He didn’t love her. And her own feelings towards him were so muddled that she couldn’t make sense of them.
