A Mistake, A Prince and A Pregnancy. Maisey Yates
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they had chosen the clinic in Washington to pursue their dream of starting a family. It was relaxing here…a place they had both felt at ease.
“Yes,” he said drily, “but my confidence in the competence of your medical system has declined greatly in the past forty minutes, for obvious reasons. My doctor in Turan will be fast and discreet.”
She nodded slowly, obviously not seeing any point in arguing with him. “When do you think you’ll be able to have the test done?”
“As soon as I arrive. The health of my child is important to me, too.”
She suddenly looked so desolate, so achingly sad, that it made him want to take her into his arms and just hold her, gather her fragile frame against him and support her, shelter her. The sudden, fierce need to comfort her shocked him. Was it because she was pregnant with his child? That had to be it. There was no other explanation for such a burning hunger to keep this woman safe from everything that might harm her. His child’s life was tied to hers and that called to him as a man—as a protector—on the most primal of levels.
Alison herself called to him on an even more basic level. Was it some kind of latent male instinct to claim what now seemed to be his? The ache to take her in his arms, crush those soft breasts against his chest, kiss her until her lips were swollen, to thrust into her body and join them in the most intimate way possible, was almost strong enough to overtake his carefully cultivated self-control.
“I’m thinking of taking legal action against the clinic,” she said softly. “I’m a lawyer and I’m certain we would have a case.”
“I’m certain we would, too, despite the fact that I don’t have a law degree,” he said wryly. “That would mean a lot of press.”
The media circus would be out of control. Sensational headlines for a world that loved nothing more than scandal. And his wife’s fertility issues, his marriage, all of it would be thrust into the spotlight. It was the last thing he wanted, both for Selena’s sake and his own. There was no point in tearing down her memory—not now that she was gone. Some things were best left buried, and the final months of his marriage were among them.
“You do tend to attract a lot of media attention, don’t you?”
“I didn’t think you listened to entertainment news.”
“I don’t. But I do stand in line at the grocery store on the odd occasion, which means I’ve seen the headlines. I just didn’t pay close enough attention to recognize you on sight.”
“Or by name.”
She shrugged. “I only have so much room in my head for trivia. Then I start losing important information.”
A reluctant laugh escaped his lips. He liked that she was able to take shots at him, even in the circumstances. It was rare that anyone stood up to him. Even Selena hadn’t done that. She had simply retreated from him. Maybe if she had been willing to come at him with her anger rather than keeping it all inside…
It was much too late for what-ifs. He pushed thoughts of Selena aside, choosing instead to focus on the problem at hand.
“I would like you to go to Turan with me.”
Her thickly lashed eyes widened. “No. I can’t. I’m busy here. I have a heavy caseload that demands a lot of my attention. Each one of my clients is extremely important and I can’t put anyone off.”
“Is there no one else at your office that can take care of that for you? You are pregnant, after all.”
“There’s no ‘pregnant, after all.’ I have responsibilities. Responsibilities that aren’t going to take a holiday just because you want me to.”
“I see. So your career is so important to you that you cannot manage to take time off to be there in person for the testing? For something that is so important to our child?”
She stiffened, her cheeks suddenly flooded with color, her pert chin thrust out at a stubborn angle. “That isn’t fair. It’s emotional blackmail.”
“And if that doesn’t work I’ll resort to some other form of blackmail. I’m not picky.”
Her lips were pursed again and he wanted to see her relax her mouth, wanted to enjoy the fullness, the temptation that she presented. It had been so long since a woman had tempted him he was enjoying the feeling. He extended his hand and rested his thumb on her lower lip. Her mouth parted in shock and heat shot from his hand to his groin when the action caused his thumb to dip between her lips and touch the wet tip of her tongue lightly.
Desire twisted his stomach. He wanted her with an intensity that shocked him. And he wasn’t certain the pregnancy had anything to do with that. He wanted her as a man wanted a woman. It was as simple as that.
Suddenly his left ring finger felt bare. It was a strange thing to be conscious of since he’d taken his wedding band off after Selena’s funeral. He hadn’t wanted to carry the reminder of his marriage with him.
“We have to work something out,” he said softly. “For the baby’s sake. That means compromise, not blackmail.”
She turned her head and broke their contact. “Why do I get the feeling the commoner will be doing all of the compromising?”
His lips turned up. “Now, cara, you misjudge me. I’m a very reasonable man.”
“I’ll have to conduct an interview of the people you’ve had thrown in the royal dungeon once we get to Turan,” she said, a slight bite still evident in her resigned tone.
“They aren’t allowed to speak, actually, so your interviews will be short.”
He could see a reluctant smile pull at the corners of her mouth. It made something that felt a lot like pride swell in his chest.
“I’ll have to call the office to try to arrange for the time off.” She took a shaky breath and pushed that lovely strawberry hair off her shoulders. “When do we leave?”
Alison regretted her decision to go with his royal highness almost the moment she agreed to it, but no matter how much she turned it over in her mind, no matter how much she wanted to run from it, she knew she couldn’t.
Standing in the first-class lounge and waiting for his majesty to arrive she tried to calm her nerves, and her morning sickness, by gnawing on a saltine and pacing the length of the room. There was plenty of plush, very comfy looking seating, but she was much too nervous, too edgy, to think about sitting down.
How had everything become so complicated? For the past three years she’d done nothing but plan for this. Everything had been geared toward this, toward the pregnancy. She’d saved her paychecks obsessively, driven a junky car, lived in the smallest, cheapest apartment she could find, in the hopes that when she had her child she could buy a house and stay home with him or her for the first few years. She’d quit her high-stress job at a prestigious law firm in order to better prepare her body for pregnancy. She’d even started a college fund for the baby, for heaven’s sake!
And one phone call had annihilated all of it. When Melissa had dropped the bomb about her receiving the wrong sperm from a donor with missing medical records, everything had shattered into a million pieces.
She had been so determined to be smart, to ensure that the father of her child wouldn’t put the baby’s health at risk. She hadn’t wanted to give up her anonymity, hadn’t wanted to involve the father in any way, and she certainly hadn’t wanted the father to be a man who would claim the baby for himself. It was the worst-case scenario as far as she was concerned.
Maximo had been nice enough to her yesterday, but she sensed ruthlessness in him simmering just beneath that aura of power and sophistication. Even when he was being nice his every command was just that: a command. He was a man who did not ask permission.
He was being civil to her now, working with her, and yet she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to play on every