Royals: His Hidden Secret: Revealed: A Prince and A Pregnancy / Date with a Surgeon Prince / The Secret King. Kelly Hunter
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him that she would do this for him whether he wanted her to or not and that she’d do it because she loved him. He wouldn’t believe her. Eventually, though, he would have to believe in her love for him. The evidence would have it no other way. Then all she had to do was make him fall in love with her and everything would fall into place. This baby. This lifestyle, whatever it was…
Rome wasn’t built in a day, she reminded herself by way of encouragement, and set about laying another brick. ‘I didn’t come all this way with you to be treated like a porcelain princess, Rafael. I swear I’ll go nuts if you continue to treat me like one.’
‘My mistake.’ He smiled slightly, a tiny glimpse of sunshine on a cloudy day. ‘What sort of princess would you like to be?’
She favoured him with a gentle smile. ‘Yours.’
They arrived at the fortress just after four in the afternoon. The sun still burned high in the sky, but later it would disappear behind the hillside and shadows would creep over the valley. This was a place of sunrises, not sunsets. Of shimmering beginnings that stole slowly across the landscape before bathing a body in light.
Rafael hoped Simone would like it here. They’d discussed no long-term plans beyond her accompanying him to Maracey, the main reason for that being that he didn’t currently know what the future would hold or whether he wanted to stay in Maracey permanently and become heir to the throne. Now Simone’s thoughts and feelings would have to be added to the already complex mix.
At least she was here. That was the main thing. Here at his begging; he remembered that too. Not loving him, not wanting to marry him. Wanting only his bed.
Heaven help them both.
Rafael drove up to the outer entry gates, great wooden-beamed and steel-braced squares. They opened silently, electronically driven, and closed just as silently behind them. The inner walls had ramparts and walk-ways atop them. Rafael knew for a fact that when Etienne was in residence those walkways would come into use. Simone’s eyes widened.
Okay, so there were one or two drawbacks to palatial living. But a person could forgive a lot when they woke to views over a valley that only soaring eagles shared.
‘It’s bleaker than I remembered,’ she murmured.
Of course. She’d been here before as a child. ‘It’s not bleak inside,’ he assured her and she slid him an assessing glance as he parked the car by the entrance portico and cut the engine.
‘You like it here,’ she accused mildly. ‘The isolation, the fortress, the burning sun.’
‘Maybe. I may have become somewhat addicted to watching the sun rise from that balcony right there,’ he said, and pointed up to the patio jutting out from his bedroom.
Simone opened the car door and Ruby tumbled out. Simone followed more gracefully and looked up at the balcony before turning to regard the valley spread out before them. ‘I can see why,’ she said softly.
‘Staff-wise, there’s a head housekeeper who lives in and also cooks for whoever’s in residence. There’s day cleaning staff—three of them come every day and there are others on call. There’s a head groundsman who also lives on the estate. He has staff as well. There’s also a security contingent present,’ he told her as the double entrance doors opened and the stern and angular Rosa stepped out to greet them. ‘That’s Rosa, Head Housekeeper. She speaks French, English, Spanish and the local dialect here, and she despairs of my lack of ceremony. Her day staff like her and she has a knack for getting good work out of them. She’s proudly Maracenian and can be a bit haughty at times.’ He stopped his assessment of Rosa at that. Simone was used to dealing with Josien, he reminded himself. Compared to Josien, Rosa was a sweetheart.
Rosa nodded and ushered them inside, out of the heat of the day. Rosa suggested refreshments in fifteen minutes, or as soon as they’d washed away their travels. Simone enthusiastically agreed.
Rosa attempted to show Simone to her suite.
Simone smiled and proceeded to tell the housekeeper to keep the suite they’d prepared for her prepared by all means—for if she ever kicked Rafael out of his bed he would need somewhere to sleep—but that for now Simone was letting him sleep in his own room with her and Ruby the fat puppy.
Rosa’s stern features registered surprise, quickly followed by a flash of what might have been approval. Simone held the other woman’s gaze and lifted an imperious eyebrow. Rosa bowed her head, but not before Rafael saw the smile hovering about the housekeeper’s lips. It was approval.
Ruby chose that moment to be a puddly puppy and anoint the glossy marble floor.
Rosa winced. Simone sighed.
‘All right, point taken,’ said Simone. ‘The puppy can sleep wherever it is fat puppies sleep around here. But I’m standing firm on my own sleeping arrangements. No guest suite.’ She looked towards Rafe. ‘I sleep with him.’
Rafael relaxed in spite of himself and allowed himself a smile.
Both women stopped their discussion and stared. Rosa in astonishment, Simone in wry acknowledgement.
‘Did you see that?’ whispered Rosa. ‘Like sunshine.’
‘You should have seen him as a child, back when responsibility didn’t have quite the hold on him that it does now,’ murmured Simone. ‘His smile could warm a whole day.’
But Rafael’s smile had dimmed at the reminder of the responsibilities that he did now carry. ‘Simone’s pregnant,’ he told the housekeeper bluntly. ‘Can you adjust your menus accordingly?’
‘Not that this pregnancy’s been playing on his mind or anything,’ added Simone. ‘Much.’
The housekeeper eyed Simone’s still svelte form. ‘But of course we can alter the menus. There are foods she must have and foods she can’t.’
‘Easy on the can’t,’ murmured Simone. ‘The minute you say I can’t have something I tend to want it more.’
Rosa nodded sagely. ‘Come to see me in the kitchen and we shall discuss preferences.’ Rosa leaned closer to Simone. ‘El úngel, there, he has no preferences or favourites. I have a food budget that allows for the finest of ingredients and all he tells me is that he eats anything. Everything! Where’s the challenge in that?’
‘Inexcusable,’ murmured Simone with a shake of her head. She was, after all, French. ‘As for your impending fatherhood,’ she added and speared him with a very direct glance, ‘you really shouldn’t go blurting it out like that. Does Etienne know?’
Er…
She read the answer on his face. ‘While I am confident of Rosa’s discretion, Rafael, there’s gossip, and then there’s gossip. May I borrow your phone?’
Wordlessly he handed it to her and watched as she scrolled through his contacts list until she found the number she wanted.
‘Your Highness? It’s Simone Duvalier. Yes, we’ve just arrived at your magnificent estate. Yes, such a beautiful drive and so relaxing. We stopped so many times along the way to take in the views.’ Simone had dug a notepad from her handbag and was busy scribbling on it while his phone balanced precariously between cheek and lightly tanned shoulder. She held the note up for his and Rosa’s viewing pleasure. It said, ‘Dinner for three at eight?’
Rosa nodded vigorously.
Rafael shrugged indifferently. While he admired Etienne as a ruler, His Royal Highness had considerable shortcomings as a father. Etienne was trying, Rafael did give him that. But the father-son relationship that Etienne had been so intent on securing had far more to do with matters of state than it had to do with affection. Etienne would be thrilled by the notion of a new generation of little royal children who would, of course, be expected to fulfil their duty to Maracey and secure the royal line. Whether Etienne would ever be a grandfather to those children was open to speculation.