Page 53 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

It should worry her that Lucien read her so easily, but she couldn’t bring herself to stress about it now. He was right. She still felt too fragile.

‘Nothing. It’s...’ She paused and shrugged. ‘Whenever my stepmother was sick during pregnancy my father made a point of leaving the house. He didn’t like to be around illness.’ It had been left to Aurélie to do whatever was necessary to help her stepmother and look after the boys. It had become a habit over the years till she’d become the one responsible for all the household chores. Her stepmother had got used to relying on Aurélie and never bothered teaching her sons to share the workload. ‘I’m not used to men who are so...domesticated.’

Or to anyone caring forher. Most of her life she’d felt almost invisible, taken for granted like a piece of furniture. Aurélie couldn’t remember the last time anyone in her family had noticed her enough to consider whatsheneeded, much less supported her.

Lucien’s mouth hooked up, turning his frown into a wry, far too attractive smile. ‘You make me sound like a tabby cat.’

‘Hardly.’ Her gaze dropped to the wide straight line of his shoulders, skating across to the open top button of his pristine business shirt and lower to that hard torso she could snuggle against all day. Lucien had all the power and lethal athleticism of a predatory big cat, despite the way he made her purr.

‘Aurélie, you’re carrying all the burden of this baby right now. The least I can do is help where I can.’ His stare held hers and she felt something inside ease and soften. ‘Speaking of which, I went to get you biscuits and ginger tea. I’m told ginger is good to prevent nausea. And you need to keep up your fluids.’

His words settled behind her breastbone, snug and comforting, and she drew a deep, unfettered breath. Was she really so besotted, so needy, that Lucien’s practical concern affected her?

It seemed so. She felt again that abrupt spike of emotion and vulnerability she’d experienced before when he was kind.

Lucien reached for the tray he’d put beside the bed. Had the doctor recommended this or had Lucien taken time to enquire about possible remedies?

Either way, that melting sensation quickened at the sight of him pouring a small cup of fragrant, pale liquid with as much concentration as if he were handling a rare antique.

His expression was serious as he held it out to her and watched her take a sip. Aurélie held her breath, wondering if she’d be making another undignified bolt to the bathroom, but this time her stomach didn’t rebel.

‘Lovely,’ she sighed. And it was. Not just the tea, but the way he made her feel.

Cherished. Again that word sprang into her mind. Though she understood Lucien was making the best of a bad situation. Last night, in the throes of passion, she could be excused thinking he really cared. But now, in the light of day, she couldn’t let herself be swept away by foolish imaginings.

She was taking another sip when Lucien spoke.

‘About your stipulation. About needing more time before we announce our wedding.’ He paused as if waiting to make sure he had her attention. ‘We need to agree a timeline. There’s a lot to organise.’

Aurélie nodded, ignoring the dragging sensation inside.Disappointment.

NaturallyLucien needed a timeline. Their marriage would be as practical as his arrangement with Ilsa. They were doing this for the sake of their baby and to secure the royal succession. The feeling of being cherished evaporated.

‘I want to be married well before the baby arrives.’

Again she nodded, feeling like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by a master. Of course he wanted to marry before the birth. He wanted a legitimate heir.

Because he was royal and such things mattered.

‘If we keep it very simple and small...’ Aurélie stopped as Lucien shook his head.

‘Simple and small won’t be possible.’ As if reading her horror he went on quickly. ‘We can tailor it as much as possible to suit your preferences, but this won’t be a hole-and-corner event. We need to show the world that you’re a suitable consort. And we need to give the people of Vallort a chance to share the celebration.’ His expression changed, a flicker of something that looked like pain dimming his eyes. ‘Something joyous after all the grief.’

Aurélie swallowed, forcing down her automatic protest. She’d been about to fight him on this. The thought of a big wedding full of pomp, with her at its centre, an imposter pretending to be a royal princess, made her nauseous. And that had nothing to do with morning sickness.

Everyone would see this was a sham, thatshewas a sham.

But that haunted look in Lucien’s eyes stopped her. Aurélie forced herself to take another sip of tea. It didn’t taste as good as before.

‘A royal wedding takes lots of planning.’

‘You mean you don’t want to wait to announce our engagement.’ Her voice sounded as dull as the leaden weight sitting in her stomach.

‘I agreed to give you time, Aurélie.’ He paused, mouth compressing. ‘But there are limits.’

‘Have you thought about what you’re asking me to do?’ Her voice rose unsteadily and she clamped her teeth on her bottom lip, not liking the thready note of panic she heard.

‘I have.’ His gaze held hers and, surprisingly, she felt that tremor of distress settle. ‘Don’t forget I’ve come into this role unexpectedly too.’

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