Page 2 of Pregnant After One Forbidden Night

Sebastian had reviewed that record personally but he had never met her in person.

Officially, he still hadn’t.

But he would. Within the hour, he decided then.

Jenna, as he now called her in his mind, stood watch over the Queen of Cyrano, on solo duty as her guard partner and captain, Helene d’Tierrza, was the hostess of the gala they were currently attending.

While Helene was off duty, the full complement of the king’s security team supported Jenna in her role of safeguarding the queen, but even from across the balcony, it was evident that Jenna had the duty well in hand.

Her entire attention was focused on the monarch, eyeing the queen with a mixture of adoration and responsibility that went beyond what was typical of her position, almost as if she were guarding a sister.

This was apparent in not only her gaze but the way her body remained poised, ever ready to leap to defense, offense or sacrifice—whatever the situation demanded.

She did not guard her liege. She guarded her friend.

Sebastian could almost taste the dedication and commitment from across the crowded balcony.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

He wanted the whole thing.

He wanted every ounce of the attention she gave the queen and more focused entirely on him.

The queen accepted dainty hors d’oeuvres from a server, and Jenna said something low to her. The queen responded with a shake of her very curly head and let out the loud, open, commoner’s laugh for which she was becoming famous.

King Zayn could not have picked a better queen himself—and he had not picked her. To the king’s surprise, at thirty-six years old, Zayn had learned that his father, the late King Alden, had betrothed him to a common woman, the daughter of the man who’d saved Zayn and his mother’s life before he had even been born.

Queen Mina was perfect for the role—beautiful and incredibly intelligent—but more importantly for Sebastian’s current purposes, she was a lovely and reliable distraction to the king.

Turning now to the king, he commented, “Queen Mina looks lovely this afternoon.”

And it was true.

The queen stood out, a breath of fresh air and lively intelligence among a sea of jaded wealth. The king’s violet gaze traveled in her direction before snagging on her with the hunger of a starving man.

It was clear he wanted to breathe her deep.

Sebastian almost smiled. It was all too easy.

People often made the mistake of thinking that his was the work of shadows and lies when, in fact, spy craft was and ever would be the arena of truth—who held it, who wanted it kept secret and what they might be willing to do to ensure that it remained that way.

Lies blew over, fell apart at the slightest pressure.

Truth made grown men weep and cry out for their mothers.

Truth was what snagged the monarch’s attention now, made his violet eyes go dark and intense, his entire focus, at least temporarily, fixed on his much-adored wife.

“Indeed, she does, and like she needs a break. She’s been in high demand this afternoon,” the king added.

Sebastian smiled. To all the world, it would appear he’d shared a private joke with the monarch. But, as was often the case, all the world would have been wrong.

Sebastian kept smiling as the king made his way to his queen with his own guards alert and at a discreet distance—precisely as Sebastian had wanted. Things were going according to plan.

He loved it when things went according to plan.

He loved it almost as much as he would love the sensation of things returning to normal after he’d seduced Jenna. Once would be enough. Once was always enough.

Tasting her would disarm the intrigue and render her ordinary. Then he could forget about her.

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