Page 15 of Royal Surrogate 1

“Not that nonsense again,” my dad says, the life draining from his eyes once more. “I told you not to get your hopes up about all those fancy experimental procedures. They never pan out. And even if they did, they never pick sad old men like me. They go for the young, good-looking ones. The ones that’ll look nice on some fancy documentary video.”

“But that’s just it,” I say, leaning closer. “They did pick you.”

His head jerks back in my direction. “What?”

“They picked you.” I can’t hold back my smile. “Dr. Seidel himself will be paying you a visit later this week. And they’re already working on arrangements to transfer you to the research hospital in Boston.”

My dad’s eyes narrow. “How?”

“How what?”

“I know how these things work. How are you paying for this?”

“It turns out your insurance will cover it after all,” I tell him. “Isn’t that great?” I’ve thought long and hard about whether to tell him the truth, but I ultimately decided against it. My dad wouldn’t take it well, and he doesn’t need the extra stress on his shoulders.

“Guess those bastards are good for something,” he says, and I can hear the hope creeping back into his voice.

I just smile and nod. Dr. Seidel’s team generously agreed to accept the two hundred thousand I received upon signing Lord Caspar’s contract as a down-payment for the treatment, with the rest to be paid in installments over the next two years. I have a feeling Lord Caspar has something to do with their willingness to work with me, but if he does, he’s admitted nothing.

“So this Dr. Seidel,” my dad says, chewing on the side of his mouth. “You’ve met the guy? He’s not some crazy quack, is he? You never know with those Germans.”

“I’ve never met him, no, but I know he’s very highly respected. One of the best in the field. He’s been working out of the research hospital for more than a decade now.”

“He’s not one of those socialists, is he?”

“He’s a good, highly intelligent physician and researcher,” I assure him. “He’s going to help you.”

My dad still looks uncertain, but I can tell he’s letting himself feel a little excitement. That makes me feel better about this next part.

“Dad, there’s one more thing,” I tell him. “I have to go away for a little while—for work—so I won’t be able to visit you.”

His face falls. “For how long?”

“At least a few weeks. Maybe longer.” Lord Caspar has begrudgingly promised I can come visit, but I know he’s worried about me constantly flying back and forth once I’m pregnant with his child. “But I’ll call. And write you letters; won’t that be fun?”

“People never should have stopped writing letters,” my dad grumbles. “I hate those damn emails.”

“I’ll write you tons of letters,” I promise him. “And I already talked to Nicole, the nurse who’s been assigned to you during your treatment. She said she’d help you write some back to me. Who knows—maybe with this treatment you’ll be writing them back yourself sooner than you thought.”

My dad’s lips press into a line, and I can’t decide whether he’s trying not to scowl or not to smile.

“Why don’t I read you another chapter of The Count of Monte Cristo?” I say, picking up the fat book on his nightstand.

“Do you have time? Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Not today,” I tell him. “I’m all yours until four.” After that I’m heading straight to the airport, to Montovia.

And hopefully not toward a giant mistake, I think, flipping open to the bookmark. Looking at that glimmer of hope in my dad’s eyes, though, I know there’s no going back for me. No matter what.

CHAPTER 11

Caspar

My stomach is tied in knots as I wait for Renae at the airport. These past ten days have been a whirlwind of activity—medical appointments, legal meetings, and all the tying up of loose ends in Seattle.

Our appointment at the fertility clinic was…interesting, at least for me. I suppose I hadn’t realized that I, too, would need an examination. I was offended at the notion of having to provide a…sample of my genetic material. And the room they gave to me was filled with an assortment of magazines, which I suppose are supposed to arouse men to be able to provide such samples.

But I didn’t need them. I only needed to think of Renae, naked in my arms, beneath me in my bed, and I had all the material I needed. Even the thought of having her alone and to myself now is making my cock hard.

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