The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London
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your life,” X says carefully.
She pushes her own chair back and stands abruptly, pointing at me. “He—he doesn’t even know me! My mother wants me dead, and my own husband doesn’t remember falling for me! I have no one,” she says. “If not for my unborn child, I am completely alone. And they will not take my baby from me.”
She starts toward the door.
“Juliet—” I stand and take a step to her, but what comes next? What do I say to right all the wrong that has been done to her?
“You can’t fix this,” she says, tears streaking her cheeks.
I venture another step, trying not to spook her, though I know in this place she can’t go far. So far she doesn’t run.
“You’re half right,” I tell her when we are face-to-face. “I don’t remember.” Her dark eyes—full of so much anger and hurt—bore into mine. “But you aren’t alone.” I cradle her face in my palms. “You and this baby. Let me protect you both.” I kiss her, and I feel some of the tension leave her body. But she’s still holding something back. “Let me fall for you both and prove myself worthy of a love as big as yours.”
She melts into me then, and I don’t care that X is still here. I kiss her hard, my lips on hers a promise. One I hope I can keep.
Juliet
At last X clears his throat.
“As much as I hate standing in the way of true love, we need to get to the palace.”
“This isn’t true love,” I hasten to say, pulling back, Damien’s unique minty flavor lingering on my tongue. I swear he’s permeated every cell of my body from the way I tingle.
“That a fact?” X says in a sardonic voice.
“It’s animal magnetism. And pregnancy hormones.” I refuse to meet my husband’s eyes. I hope my lie sounds believable to his ears. I hate to have him pity me. He’s said he wants to fall for me, but that means he’s not yet fallen, and maybe he never will. But he wants me—wants to pleasure me and protect me—and I tell myself if that’s all we ever are, it’s enough.
It has to be.
Without another look, I march forward down the corridor until I come to a halt at a T-junction. “I don’t know which way to go,” I admit, turning around.
Damien and X watch me, each with something simmering in their eyes. X is full of his usual secrets, and Damien? Who knows how many levels my brooding prince has, but he’s retreated far into himself.
For a moment I wonder if I wounded him with my quick denial of how I feel, but I know that’s impossible. Just as much as I know my own desperate, pathetic truth.
The truth strikes me with lightning precision, igniting my core.
I’m in love with my husband.
Desperately.
Irrevocably.
Always and forever.
“We turn left here, Highness,” X says with a gentle gesture.
I hate that I feel he can hear my thoughts.
As I pass by he adds, “I know you two won’t want to be late.”
“For what?” Damien growls, stalking beside me, looking neither left nor right.
There are so many doors along this hall. None marked. The Hole is as mysterious as The Order. As X himself.
“Your first sonogram.” X stops in front of a door that looks exactly the same as the three on either side. He presses his hand to a keypad, and it opens up into an elevator. The same in which we arrived.
By the time we step outside, blinking at the sun, the chopper purring on the helipad, my heart is in my throat.
We are going to see the baby. Our baby.
“Are you excited?” I ask Damien as we strap into our jump seats and buckle matching Kevlar helmets under our chins. X and my husband sit up in the front while I take a position near the window.
“Yeah. Sure.” He smiles over his shoulder in my direction, but the grin doesn’t reach his eyes.
My heart sinks faster than a pebble tossed into the deep end of the ocean. No matter what he said before, in The Hole, his actions speak louder. The helicopter lurches into the air, drops as we hit a patch of turbulence. I grip my seat, terrified, alone.
Then Damien reaches his hand back to take mine, knowing that I need it without even turning around.
I lace my fingers with his and squeeze once. He does the same in return.
Beneath us the mountains drop into tight, twisty valleys, a geographical maze, much like the paradox holding on to me as if he’ll never let go.
He can claim me with such passion and then retreat into a part of himself that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breach. The walls are too high.
But as I rest my free hand on my stomach, tears sheen my eyes. Damien is more than I could have hoped for, even if he cannot give me every part of himself. “Remember, you never believed in happy endings,” I whisper.
“What was that, Princess?” X asks, eagle-eared as always.
“I was wondering how much longer,” I say with feigned enthusiasm. “I’m ever so eager for the sonogram.”
“Twenty more minutes the way I fly.” X pulls hard, giving more throttle.
True to his word, we land on the palace roof exactly twenty minutes later. Two nurses are waiting for us.
“Right this way, Prince Damien, Princess Juliet,” one says while the other simply gawks as if we are some kind of celebrities.
Damien’s jaw is tight.
If my stomach has sunk to the bottom of the ocean, it’s now burrowing deep into the sand.
“Are you not looking forward to seeing your child?” I say in a light tone. “Because you’re welcome to go to your quarters and refresh yourself. It’s been a long night and–—”
“What?” He grabs me by the elbow, swinging me to him. “What are you saying? This is my child. Our child.”
“You haven’t seemed interested in taking part since X mentioned it earlier.”
His face softens, even as his eyes remain vacant and haunted. “It’s not the child. It’s going to the hospital. I haven’t been there since my discharge and...” His Adam’s apple bobs heavily. “It’s not a place that I’m eager to see again so soon.”
“I see,” I say softly, resting my hand on his cheek. And I do. Suddenly all his actions are clear. What a self-absorbed drama queen I’ve been. Damien isn’t upset to see the baby. He is worried about returning to a place where he suffered, where he woke without memories, without hope.
“See this?” This time I take his hand in mine. “This time it’s my turn to hold your hand. And Damien?” I rise up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his ear. “I’m never going to let you go.”
“Thank you,” he says in a husky whisper. “You’re more than I deserve.”
We leave the roof and make our way down to a waiting Rolls-Royce. The royal hospital is a short drive away and we are greeted by a team of attending doctors, in addition to the two nurses who accompanied us.
“This seems like overkill,” I murmur to him.
“It’s Edenvale,” he says, shrugging. “They love their royal family.”
My throat tightens as I think of the contrast to my own kingdom. To my parents, who would have been willing to kill me to keep claim on the throne for an unnatural tenure. But with effort, I push the dark thoughts away, because there is no room