Page 17 of Baby Daddy Protector

“His majesty’s awake now, huh? That’s a good sign.” I knew the king’s cancer was terminal, but with all the money he had to spend, maybe one of the experimental treatments could extend his time. I hoped so, for Es’s sake anyway.

“Yes and no,” the aide said, staring straight ahead down the corridor. She was maybe fifty, and about as bland as the plain white walls on either side of us. “His prognosis is not good, Mr. Raybourn. Nothing has changed there. The doctors fear this might be a last burst of energy—a final hurrah, as it were—before the end. Apparently, that’s not uncommon for patients in their final stages of a terminal disease. No one knows how long it may last, but we can only do our best to keep him comfortable and see to his wishes while he is here with us.”

I gave the woman a sideways glance. “Why did he want to see me?”

“You’ll have to ask his majesty that, Mr. Raybourn.” The aide stopped outside the king’s door then gestured for me to go in by myself. “He’s waiting for you.”

Walking into the private suite, the first thing I noticed was how much Es looked like her father. Same dark hair, even though the king was in his late sixties, same intelligent hazel eyes. But where Es’s complexion was creamy and pink with health, the king’s had a decided yellowish tinge to it, most likely because the cancer had metastasized to his liver. Otherwise, the king seemed his usual jovial self. I had never spent any time one-on-one with the king or his personal advisors prior to this trip, but in general, the palace in Prylea had been very welcoming toward me when I’d taken the security assignment. I knew the king was the one responsible for that warm environment.

“Ah, Mr. Raybourn, please have a seat.” The king gestured toward the chair beside his hospital bed, then gave a quick head tilt toward the two other people in the room to clear the area, leaving me alone with the king. “A matter has been brought to my attention that we need to discuss.”

My heart lodged somewhere in my esophagus. The deal with Es aside, I really couldn’t afford to lose this job. I had been sent to Prylea officially as a symbol of the friendship and support of the American military for Prylea. How would it look to my commanding officer if I was sent back? My mind raced, trying to think of where and when I might have screwed something up during this trip to Washington, DC, but nothing surfaced. Well, not in terms of my job performance anyways.

“I know you’re sleeping with my daughter.” The king’s gravelly voice, likely due to the various tubes he’d had shoved down his throat for the past week, echoed in the otherwise quiet room, the words hanging between us like an executioner’s ax.

I opened my mouth to respond, then realized I had no clue how to navigate this minefield. “Sir, I…”

How could he have found out? We’d been careful.

As if reading my thoughts, the king said, “A member of my trusted staff back home told me about the contract. Felt I should know what my only child has been up to while I was in a coma.”

My chest squeezed tight with adrenaline. I battled the urge to escape the room and run as far and fast as I could and instead stood my ground. I was a sailor, a trained warfare expert, a SEAL. I didn’t back down from a fight. I strategized, I conquered, I won. “Your highness, I believe—”

The king gave a dismissive wave. “Save it. And please, call me Renault, or Ren, for short. The time is long past for formalities. Besides, if my daughter’s scheme works, I may be calling you son before you know it, eh?”

I blinked at him, stunned. “Your high…” I cleared my throat to cover my gaff. “Ren. This isn’t what you think. Es came up with this idea after a lot of thought and research.”

“Yes, I’m sure she did.” The king coughed, and I rushed to pour him some water. Ren took a few sips then leaned back against his pillows once more. “My daughter is an overthinker, just like me. Her mother was always the one to act. I’m praying she got more than a little of my queen’s drive as well. Her decision to take you to bed gives me hope.”

Speechless now, I sat back and shook my head.

“You’ve been put in an awkward position here,” the king said, narrowing his gaze on me. “I completely understand why my daughter chose this route. In fact, I one-hundred-percent support it. A baby, an heir, will keep that buffoon Silvester off my throne and help preserve all the work I’ve done to bring the country of Prylea into the twenty-first century.” He looked me up and down. “Yes, you two will make fine-looking, healthy offspring. But I want to make sure that you’re okay with all of this, son.” He coughed again but held up a hand when I went to pour him more water. “Damned cancer’s spread everywhere now. Lungs, brain, bones, even my voice box. No amount of liquid will help that.” He took a deep breath. “I do hope you don’t mind me calling you ‘son.’ Figured you’d grant me some latitude since I won’t be around much longer.”

“Sir. Ren. The fact you’re awake now is a good sign.” I sat forward, doing my best to shine a positive light on the situation. I actually didn’t mind the king calling me “son.” It was kind of nice, truth be told, with my own parents being gone. Felt good to be part of a family again, even if it was only temporary. “Don’t count yourself out too soon.”

“You either,” the king said, turning my words back on me. “What I mean is, let all this settle in for a bit. Making a baby isn’t easy, especially under your circumstances. And my Esme can be a handful, just like her mother was. Strong, smart, opinionated, and fiercely loyal. I’m glad she’ll have a strong young man such as yourself by her side at the end of all this.” He waved a hand over his prone form. “She’ll need all the support she can get when she gets back to Prylea.”

The king gave me a rueful little smile. “I called you here, son, to let you know that if you need to talk—about anything—I’m here for you. This was never common knowledge, but the queen and I struggled for years to have Esme. With the stress of running a country and other health issues, it took us a long time. I know how hard those trials and tensions can be. It can help to have a supportive friend in your corner to bolster your spirits.”

“Oh, well, thank you, sir.” I was touched by the offer. I’d come here, scared I was going to get fired—or worse, get the “if you hurt my daughter in any way, I’ll kill you” speech. I’d never expected warmth and support and acceptance. Honestly, I could really use some advice right about now. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir, I do have some questions about—”

My question was severed by the hospital door opening and Es running over to hug her father, looking as lovely and luscious as I remembered from the night before. My heart ached at the sight of her hugging her father, their close relationship obvious.

“I’m just going to step outside for a minute and give you two some privacy.” I stood and made my way over to the door, but I might as well have been invisible for all the attention Es and her father paid me. It was just as well. Given the chaos raging inside me after the conversation I’d just had with the king, I could use all the space I could get to recalibrate.

ELEVEN

“Papa,” I said, bending down to kiss my father’s cheek once Z had left. Happy as I was to see him awake and alert again, I kept reminding myself that this was only temporary. The doctors had sat me down after I’d first arrived that morning and told me the cold, hard facts. My father’s renewed energy today wasn’t a sign of recovery or improving health. It was a final burst of life before the inevitable end. This made my deal with Z that much more imperative to fulfill. The idea of going back to Prylea without my father was unthinkable. I couldn’t even bring myself to accept that he might not last until Christmas, only a few short months away. Still, I wanted to spend what little time left with my father in joy, not sorrow. I cupped his flushed cheeks and rested my forehead against his. “How are you feeling?”

“Very well, my darling girl. Very well, indeed.” He kissed my forehead and pulled me in for another embrace. It was a little awkward, given our positions, but I clung on until he released me. “You look beautiful as always. The spitting image of your dear mother. God rest her soul.”

“God rest her soul,” I repeated, taking a seat in the chair near his bedside. The leather was still warm from Z’s body, and I savored that heat for a moment before placing my bag on the floor and pulling my knitting out for later. I planned to stay here for the long haul and get as much quality time in with my father as possible. “I’ve been busy during our stay here, Papa.”

I went over all the meetings and luncheons and galas I’d attended in his place, carefully avoiding any mention of the mess awaiting us back home because of my cousin. I also avoided any mention of my plans with Z. No need to worry my father unnecessarily in his weakened condition.

But what had Z been doing alone with my father when I arrived? Did he already know about my arrangement with Z? Of course, he did. He’d have spoken with his aides. I was hedging, trying to decide how to bring it up when he spoke.

“I just had a conversation with the young man you’ve chosen to mate with,” my father said without any preamble. I stared at him. How exactly did one respond to that? There weren’t any etiquette classes for dealing with the scenario Z and I found ourselves in, that was for sure.

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