Page 27 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

A shuddering began deep inside. Again she was stunned by how much the idea hurt.

Warmth closed around her upper arm. She felt the weight of Lucien’s hand. Her nostrils flared as she caught a hint of scent, male flesh and mountain forests that dragged her back to that night in Annecy.

Her mouth tightened at the corners as she bit back words. Whether to demand he release her or ask him to hold her close, she didn’t know. Being near Lucien aroused feelings that yanked her in opposing directions and made her feel totally vulnerable.

Because he isn’t and never could be yours. He has a fiancée. A beautiful, glamorous fiancée who belongs in this world of royalty and privilege. A woman who’s everything you’re not.

‘No one is going to take your child from you. This is just an option to consider.’

She wished she could believe him.

Once she’d believed in her father, trusted him, and that trust had been misplaced. He wasn’t the man she’d once thought him.

‘You can let me go now.’ Maybe then she could think. How was it that his touch, his proximity, addled her thoughts?

For a heartbeat longer he held her, his bright gaze snaring hers. He was so close his slow exhalation stroked her cheeks, sending a quiver of need humming through her.

Abruptly he stepped back, frowning, his hand falling. Yet to her disordered mind even that felt like a caress. As if he didn’t want to let go, his fingers clinging as long as possible.

Fury rose at her capacity for self-delusion. Lucien was more than over her. He’d moved on to a woman he wanted in his life permanently. Aurélie had been okay for a one-night stand but that was all.

At least anger didn’t make her weak.

‘If you adopt the baby your wife will be its mother. You’ll bring it up here and I’ll never see it.’ An aching emptiness carved through her middle.

Lucien shook his head. ‘I can see you’re upset, Aurélie, and I understand the idea must seem shocking. But give us some credit. You said you weren’t sure you wanted to raise the child. Thissuggestion—’ he emphasised the word ‘—arose from that possibility. It provides legal security, and a single stable home if you choose to give it up. Neither of us would stop you visiting whenever you want.’

But she’d be an outsider. An occasional visitor. Not a parent.

‘It’s only one option,’ he added.

‘But it’s the one you want.’

He shrugged, his hands spreading. ‘How about we sit down to discuss it? You still look far too pale.’

Aurélie disliked being an object of pity, or knowing she looked unwell. At the same time, Lucien’s concern felt special. When she’d lived with her family, no one had worried about her well-being. She’d been the one to look after everyone else. Even when she’d been exhausted from overwork there’d always been someone demanding more.

She took her seat and watched him do the same.

‘Aurélie, whatever we do has to suit all of us. This option would give our baby legal protection. It would mean that he or she would grow up in Vallort, used to palace life, which is vital if he or she is to have a royal role. But neither I nor Ilsa would bar you from contact.’

‘You really think your fiancée would agree to bring up someone else’s baby?’

‘She’s already said she would.’

Stupid to feel betrayed that he’d discussed this with the Princess. She wanted to say that this baby was her personal business—hers and Lucien’s. But that would be childish. There were wider implications, even if it did feel as if she were already being replaced by another woman.

Aurélie fought to repress raging misery and think logically. Instead of smarting because Lucien had discussed her private business, she should be impressed at his honesty. Some men would conceal an illegitimate child, especially when they were marrying someone else.

‘She’s trying to please you. She’ll feel different when you have children together. Won’t she want her children to take precedence in inheriting?’

Lucien shook his head, his gaze leaving hers as if his thoughts were on the Princess, not her. ‘No. She’s more than happy to do this.’

Which seemed unusual. Surely a royal princess would be concerned about precedence in the line of succession?

Lucien continued before she could press the point. ‘I believe she’d be a good mother. Ilsa is kind and sensible.’

Was it Aurélie’s overactive imagination or did that sound like faint praise? Surely a man should be more enthusiastic about the woman he was about to marry?

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