Page 13 of Royal Surrogate 2

“I just might take advantage of that.”

“Only if you promise to let me join you now and then.”

He says it with his usual arrogant charm, but I sense the vulnerability beneath, like he’s worried I might reject him. I never know quite how to handle these rare moments of true softness from him, those moments where he lets the facade slip and shows me the tenderness underneath.

They terrify me, honestly.

“Of course you can join me,” I say, almost whispering.

He smiles a true smile at me then, the kind that makes his whole face light up and sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The kind that reminds me of how dangerous this is, how easy it would be to fall for this man and let my heart be broken.

“This evening, then,” he says. “We’ll watch the sunset together.”

It’s a perfectly innocent request—a beautiful request, really. So why does it scare me so much?

CHAPTER 12

Caspar

I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life to meet with a woman.

The wedding band on my left ring finger feels heavy, and I twist it, trying to think of all the times I might have ever had more reason for concern.

The time I had to tell Father I failed my political science class my second year of college. The time I had to tell Mother I’d broken the vase that had been in her family for thirteen generations. The time I told Benedict I’d run off to Monaco with the girl he’d been seeing.

Yes, they were all mortifying in their own way. But tonight… Tonight is different. I suppose if I had to say exactly why, it would be because thisisn’tso horrifying. Renae and I are married. We’re having a child together. What is so terrible about all of that?

Except for the tiny—infinitesimally small, really—detail that we are required to stay together for the next two decades, this should all be very happy news.

I rise from the porch swing, nearly knocking myself over when she arrives.

She’s breathtaking. The waning sunlight has caught the highlights in her hair, and her skin appears almost ethereal. She’s wearing a white frock that makes her look like a goddess.

“You’re looking exceeding beautiful,” I say.

Her eyebrow arches and her lips curl into a half-smile. “Thanks,” she says, almost as a question before taking the seat on the swing nearest me.

I sit beside her, making sure to leave her plenty of room. As much as I want to touch her now, kiss her, hold her, I know that once I tell her she’ll need her space. She’ll be upset—at least for a moment—but I’ll be here to hold her when she’s ready. And then we can really begin our lives together.

We’re silent for a moment, as though waiting for the other to say something. I know I should go first, but I can’t help but stare at her. I feel as though I’ve missed something all this time. Certainly, I’ve known Renae is beautiful. I wouldn’t have asked her to carry my child if I felt otherwise. But there is something else about her. Something deeper and quieter and… Something I find I want to know.

I can’t say that I’ve ever felt this way about a woman before. I generally care very little about their deepest cares or wishes. Desires, perhaps, but nothing that rises to the realm of emotions. But with Renae, I find I want more.Needmore, somehow. And I haven’t even been intimate with her.

Perhaps that’s it, I think.Perhaps once we’ve known each other intimately I won’t have this disturbing need to know her more deeply.

But part of me knows this isn’t true at all. There’s something within me that craves…her. All of her. Not just her body, but her soul.

It’s a strange feeling, but I know it’s the truth. Now I must tell her the truth.

“Tell me about him,” I say. “Your father.”

Her head snaps around so that her gaze meets mine. “What?”

“Your father. You did all of this for him.” I motion to her slightly swollen belly. “I’d like to know about him.”

Her eyebrow arches again as though she doesn’t believe me. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” I say. I consider taking her hand, but then think better of it.

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