Page 63 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

Lucien nodded, torn between admiration and anger. She shouldn’t be doing this alone.

‘Organise a car for me. I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.’ He stood, picking up his own phone and dialling as he reached for his jacket.

He found her in the children’s section, apparently engrossed in the book she held. But her head lifted at his footsteps.

‘Lucien! What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same.’ He kept his voice low. ‘I told you to stay at the castle.’

Her fine eyebrows rose. ‘Was that an order?’

‘Of course not. I was trying to protect you.’ He’d run the gauntlet of the press clustered outside. His throat clogged as he thought of her facing them alone.

Her expression softened. ‘I appreciate it. But I remembered your advice. To start as I mean to go on.’ She closed the book with a snap. ‘I was afraid if I hid away from them today it would get harder and harder.’

She swallowed and Lucien saw past her raised chin and determined mouth to the upset woman. Distressed because of him.

‘Ah, Aurélie.’ He lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking gently. ‘I’m sorry. This is my fault.’

‘Don’t be nice to me.’ Her mouth wobbled in an approximation of a smile. ‘This is tough enough as it is.’

‘But you’re doing wonderfully. And you look delicious.’ It was true. ‘That green suits you and I like what you’ve done to your hair.’ He touched a curly strand that feathered her alabaster neck. Her hair was up but not in a rigidly smooth arrangement. Instead it was gathered in a soft-looking knot with a few wispy curls framing her face. ‘Sophisticated and sexy.’

Colour streaked her cheeks and her lips twitched. ‘I thought it better than a ponytail for this.’

He nodded. ‘You look perfect.’

Her mouth turned down. ‘Perfect as a king’s lover?’

‘Perfect for me. And to meet someone important. I spoke to her about you yesterday and planned to take you to see her later. But, in the circumstances, we’ll do it now.’ He gestured to the book she held. ‘Are you buying that?’

Aurélie nodded, picking up another couple of books resting on a low shelf. ‘I thought I’d buy my brothers a book each. It didn’t have to be done today but...’ She shrugged her shoulders.

The brothers who followed their parents in seeing her as a drudge? Aurélie’s generosity surprised him.

‘You don’t have to explain to me.’ He paused and met her grave brown eyes. ‘I admire you, Aurélie. More than I can say.’

Perfect for me.

Lucien’s words carried her through the purchase of the books and out into the cobblestoned square in a haze of excitement and delight. Did he mean it or were they simply words of reassurance?

Common sense decreed the latter, yet the heat of approval in those stunning amber eyes turned her inside out and almost—almost made her believe in miracles. Like the handsome Prince falling for his pregnant commoner Cinderella.

His praise and support lifted her confidence and made her feel good about herself. That had boosted her determination to face the press today.

They were sweeping across the square, reporters trailing them, before she really paid attention to the press scrum. And it was a scrum, even worse than when she’d arrived. The difference was that now there were dark-suited men ensuring they kept their distance.

And Lucien, his hand at her elbow, his tall body solid and reassuring at her side. She tried not to huddle closer, knowing it wasn’t the cool breeze that made her want to lean against him.

‘Where are we going? Who are we meeting?’

‘The only other remaining member of my family. I’d arranged for us to visit her in a few days’ time but when I heard you were here, with a press pack in tow, I brought the meeting forward. Remarkably she was free.’

Aurélie had known he must have been informed about her being in the city. He hadn’t just happened along. But as they made their way towards an elegant building on the far side of the square, his staff keeping the press at a respectful distance, she realised what she hadn’t before. This was a rescue. Lucien had abandoned his schedule to come and protect her.

There was that word again.

He felt protective. Was it madness to hope he might one day feel more?

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