Page 153 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘I’m scared,’ she admitted, and God knew that was the truth. ‘But that’s a normal way to feel with anything new, especially something like this. I want this, Sebastian. I really do.’ She could just imagine their baby, whether a boy or girl, with his soulful dark eyes and swarthy skin. Perhaps the baby would be like her mother, too? The thought was instantly mollifying. Wasn’t that how this was supposed to work? Descendants were a living testament to those who went before them, a way to always remember.

‘Then when the time is right for you, we will start trying.’ His eyes ran over her face, as if looking for something, or wanting to say something. She didn’t know which, and she was concentrating on calendar maths anyway.

‘Actually,’ she murmured, her heart speeding up. ‘The time now is perfect.’

He laughed softly. ‘I meant for conception, but if you’re suggesting we take this to the bedroom for other reasons, then I’m fine with that.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘I mean the same thing. This, right now, would be a good time for us to try.’

He sobered. ‘Now?’

She nodded. ‘If I remember my tenth-grade biology classes.’

He was serious. ‘And, you’re sure?’

She laughed. ‘God, Sebastian, next minute you’ll be making me beg.’

He gave her a rueful look. ‘I could not live with myself,cara, if such a monumental decision was not your own.’

‘You know me better now too, don’t you? Do you seriously imagine I’d have a baby if I wasn’t completely sure it was right?’

He tilted his head a little as he contemplated that, and then shook it once. ‘No. You’re too smart for that.’

His compliment pulled at her heart, but was he prevaricating on purpose? Was he now having doubts? ‘We don’t have to try this month,’ she said quickly, to give him an easy way out. ‘If you’d prefer to wait, we can.’

‘No. Believe me when I tell you, I don’t want to wait another moment.’ His voice was so deep and raw that her whole body seemed to ache in response. When he scooped down and lifted her up, he carried her over one shoulder to his bedroom, and as they crossed the threshold, it was with a shared intention not to leave it again for many, many days.

Rosie loved her country, her king, and she loved her life, but when Sebastian’s private jet touched down in Cavalonia, she didn’t feel a rush of relief or gladness to be back. Not even a little.

She felt...regret.

The word sprang to mind easily, perhaps because of their conversations on the island. How could she fail to regret being back, though?

The island had been wonderful.

There, she felt as though so many things had happened, it was as if she was fundamentally changed in some way, and despite her every effort to keep him at arm’s length, she felt as if Sebastian had become a physical part of her. They’d spent almost every moment together for a week and a day, and the last four of those had been spent almost completely in his bedroom, and absolutely naked.

Coming back had necessitated a shift.

They’d both dressed, for a start, but it wasn’t just the requirement for clothes, so much as the type of clothes. Sebastian wore a suit, and Rosalind a tailored dress with high heels—the sort of thing she wore often in her role as princess. Her phone had pinged with many emails and texts, including one from the king telling her he was looking forward to seeing her.

They had sat separately on the plane, neither really looking at the other. Rosie didn’t need to look at Sebastian; he was burned into her memory banks. Not touching him when they disembarked was a form of torture, but she was aware of the way he held back a little, so there was no need for either to brush hands, nor for him to put a solicitous hand in the small of her back.

And on the tarmac, two cars were waiting. It was a starkly visual reminder of their separate lives. One car was to take her back to the palace, and another to take him to his home.

She hesitated a little, midway between the steps of the plane and her car, and Sebastian was then beside her, looking at her quizzically.

‘You’re okay?’

She nodded, but frowned, and knew that she wasn’t. But how could she explain it to him? She refused to ask when she’d see him again. She refused to do anything so desperate and needy, and thus confirm that she was every bit as vulnerable to handsome, suave men as her father’s girlfriends had been.

‘And you’ll let me know about our project as soon as you know?’

It would be about a week before she could do even the most sensitive pregnancy tests. Was he planning not to see her for that whole time?

Her heart dropped to her toes. She wouldn’t ask that either. She wouldn’t say anything that might sound as if she was begging him to come to her. She’d hold it together, show him that she was strong and independent, even when she didn’t feel it.

‘Of course.’ Her voice was brittle, her smile just a shadow. ‘Well, goodbye then,’ she murmured, turning to walk to her car. She took small, deliberate steps, as a nice woman from the protocol office had shown her for the wedding. Now it was because it physically hurt to walk away from him. When she was near the car, one of the security teams opened the rear door for her. She almost allowed herself to look back before sliding in, before reminding herself that she was stronger than that, and she simply took her seat, staring straight ahead, as if the week with Sebastian had just been a fun little getaway that was now behind her.

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