Page 58 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

She’d been unable to resist the dress the stylist had suggested. Aurélie had assumed the darker colour and simple lines would help her blend into the background. She’d reckoned without the fact that standing beside the King meant she could never be in the background. Or that the silk’s lustrous shine drew attention to the shape of her body. Had it clung so much when she’d tried it on this afternoon?

The almost grim line of Lucien’s mouth turned up in a rueful smile. ‘Believe me, Aurélie, you don’t need me to draw attention to you. You’re doing that all by yourself. You look magnificent.’

She shook her head, trying not to react to his over-the-top praise.

‘Thoseare magnificent.’ She gestured towards the photographs on the black wall before them. Alpine scenes in deepest winter. ‘Your friend is so talented. The light and shade on that frozen waterfall is amazing.’

‘I agree. They’re some of his best, and he’ll be delighted to hear you say it.’ His voice dropped. ‘But you’re changing the subject.’

Aurélie’s chin jerked up. ‘I don’t need flattery, Lucien.’

But when she met his eyes he looked completely serious. ‘You don’t believe you look magnificent?’

She shot a quick look around and found that for once there was no one standing close. Yet instinctively she moved closer to a photo of tiny meadow flowers surrounding a mirror-surfaced mountain lake.

‘So long as I look passable, I’ll be happy.’ She’d never mixed with people in couture fashion and jewels before. Never run the gauntlet of press photographers. It had been nerve-racking, though Lucien had thoughtfully arranged for them to arrive with the friends they’d met yesterday.

There it was again. Thoughtfulness.

Because he cared?

Or because he didn’t want her spooked into changing her mind about staying?

Lucien listened to Aurélie chat with a German count and countess about kayaking.

They’d met in front of a stunning photo of a kayaker descending rapids in full flood. It turned out Aurélie had enjoyed the little kayaking she’d done years before with a friend, enough to unwind when the Count began talking of rapids and Eskimo rolls. Her eyes shone brightly and the tension that had stiffened her shoulders all evening evaporated.

He guessed it would return if she realised she was talking to the CEO of one of Europe’s most prosperous banks or that his wife was a senior diplomat.

Lucien knew Aurélie felt out of place with the rich and powerful. If only he could convince her that the job of royalty was as much about protecting and serving ordinary citizens as it was about mingling with VIPs. But that was something she’d have to realise for herself over time.

If only she knew it, her down-to-earth freshness totally suited the Vallort royal family, which, for the last two generations at least, had focused on substance rather than pomp. As a royal, she’d spend as much time interacting with the general public as the privileged.

Another couple joined the group and Lucien watched, delighted, as Aurélie chatted easily. Her vivacity drawing more than one admiring glance. Once she forgot about social barriers and royalty she was fine.

More than fine.

Lucien spoke little and he realised how relaxing it was not to have to carry the whole burden of conversation. How good it felt to have a partner who could contribute and take her share of social interaction.

It wasn’t something he’d considered when he’d insisted Aurélie marry him.

But lots of things weren’t as he’d imagined then.

His feelings about Aurélie for a start.

It had been easy to decide that marriage was their only option. Because he refused to give up his child—hisfamily.

But their relationship wasn’t just about duty. Which was some compensation, since the scandal he dealt with now was nothing to the blast of attention they’d get when it was discovered she carried his child.

Nor was it simply protectiveness he felt. Nor even lust, though both were there, strong and easy to recognise.

What he felt for Aurélie...

Looking at her, vibrant and sexy, made his chest ache.

Unlike most women here she wore no jewellery except tiny stud earrings. Her deep blue dress was plain but it packed a punch he felt right to his groin. Whenever he looked at her he imagined his hands following the contours of her luscious body.

She had no need of diamonds or gold to catch the eye. But as soon as he thought of her in jewels, his unruly mind conjured an image of her wearing some of the royal jewels. And nothing else.

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