She wanted the best for her baby. Yet she felt trapped, knowing it would change her life.

Aurélie had spent years as the primary carer of her younger half-brothers. She’d even postponed her studies when her father and stepmother played the guilt card, saying they’d never cope without her help while the last two were so young.

Was it any wonder she felt cornered, knowing what raising a child involved? Aurélie told herself she wouldn’t turn bitter or resentful that her child would prevent her achieving her dream of study and a better future when she’d finally come so close to achieving it.

Yet doubt niggled that maybe shewouldgrow bitter. That scared her. She wanted her child to have love and positivity in its life. Not constant complaints and blame, as Aurélie had experienced after her mother had died. Nor the scrimping for money that made life tough when there wasn’t enough love.

‘I said yesterday that I want to be an involved father. That hasn’t changed.’

Something inside eased at his words. ‘I’m glad. It will be better for our baby.’

Abruptly Lucien’s gaze dropped to her mouth, making Aurélie hyper-aware of the way her lips shaped the words. Warmth trickled through her as she looked into eyes like flame and felt that flicker of connection again.

She sucked in air. ‘What are you thinking? Visits to France? Sharing care?’

‘Both those are possible.’ Lucien hooked his finger around his tie and loosened it. ‘There’s a third option too.’

‘There is?’ Aurélie had been around the issue so many times but hadn’t come up with an alternative, apart from the obvious—bringing up the baby alone.

‘Yes.’ He paused, eyes watchful. ‘If you don’t want to raise the child, Ilsa and I could adopt it, make it our legal heir and bring it up in Vallort.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOUWHAT?’SHEcouldn’t have heard right. Except she had. ‘You want me to give my baby to you and your...wife—’ a knot in her throat threatened to choke her ‘—and walk away?’

Aurélie shot to her feet to stand, trembling. Looking down at the man who surveyed her with watchful eyes.

Gone was the latent hint of nausea. Gone the fog that impeded her thoughts when she tried to imagine the future.

Instead, she saw everything with crystalline clarity. King Lucien and Queen Ilsa, beautiful, charismatic and gracious, waving from a royal balcony to an adoring crowd, holdingherbaby.

A toddler, taking its first steps across a polished palace floor into the arms of its smiling blonde mother.

A little girl, her fiery hair tamed into neat plaits, being sent away to an exclusive boarding school where she’d learn all the things expected of an aristocrat.

The images flashed through Aurélie’s mind in an instant, alarmingly vivid. Pain banded her chest and she realised she’d forgotten to breathe. She inhaled quickly, dragging air deep into her lungs. Yet still her pulse thundered.

‘Aurélie.’ She blinked, focusing on that deep voice, and saw Lucien on his feet. ‘Please be calm and hear me out.’

‘Calm?’ She heard her voice turn shrill and swallowed.

‘No one’s asking you to walk away from your child.’

‘That’s how it sounds.’

The result was a sharp insight into her feelings for her unborn child. She’d thought herself tired of playing mother to her half-brothers and shouldering the maternal responsibilities her stepmother wouldn’t. She might be frustrated and, yes, sad that once more her own plans for the future were disrupted. But she couldn’t imagine turning her back on her baby and not seeing it again.

The idea constricted her breathing all over again.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I should have explained better.’

‘Oh, I understand.’ Aurélie wrapped her arms around her middle in a gesture that was half protective, half defiant. ‘Adopting my baby and raising it without me is pretty clear.’

Lucien stepped into her personal space, filling her field of vision, forcing her to focus on him and not the images in her head. Was that concern she read in his face?

‘Adopting the baby so that it has every protection under our law and every right to inherit. That’s a positive, surely?’

Aurélie blinked, running through his words. She wasn’t worried about inheritance; she was still coming to grips with adoption. ‘Your wife would be its mother, not me.’