Page 6 of Baby Daddy Protector

I turned to face the island, elbows resting on the granite, and dropped my face into my hands. Z was right. There was no reason why my exes wouldn’t be equally suitable as anyone I’d be likely to meet in DC. I just…couldn’t seem to warm to the idea of calling any of them. As long as I had the state dinner to look forward to, I could hope that maybe I’d meet someone there who’d be different. Who’d feelright.But what were the odds of that? This was all a huge mess, and it was all my fault.

“Ugh. What am I doing? What am I going to do? All I’ve ever wanted was the right to lead my country. It’s what I was raised for, what I’ve studied. I just always thought there’d be more time to get the laws changed. I guess I thought my father would live forever.”

Tears stung my eyes again, and this time I didn’t hold them back. Swiping my hands across my wet cheeks, I sniffled and swiveled on my stool to face Z again. “Listen, you must think I’m a horrible person for even suggesting any of this, but I swear I’m not. I’m heartsick over my father and stressed out completely. I certainly never intended to trade my body in exchange for political favors. But if I have any shot at all of keeping the throne of Prylea, I need to get pregnant while my father is still alive. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at leasttry.Does that make sense?”

He gave a slow nod. “It does. What about your father, though? He’s sick, but he’s not an idiot. He’ll have questions about all this.”

“I know, but I can handle that.” I straightened, forcing my emotions back into seclusion. Feelings had no place in important decisions. Another lesson I’d learned from my mother.Do what needs to be done for the good of all, even if it causes personal suffering.“Besides, it’s not as if the man—whoever he is—will be in my life permanently. Like you said, I’ll have a prenup, and I’ll raise my child on my own.” I blinked over at him. How a man could be so rumpled and still look so damn hot, I had no idea. Still, it was no concern of mine, regardless of the way my nerve endings seemed to spark and sizzle whenever Z was around. He was my partner in this plan, my aide and protector. How he looked had no bearing on things, no matter how attractive he might be.

“So, will you help me then?”

“Do I have a choice?” Z gave a long-suffering sigh and mumbled something under his breath I didn’t quite catch, then took my extended hand and gave it a firm shake. “Fine. But I want it on record that I think this is a very bad idea. Very bad. I’m only participating to protect you from yourself, Es.”

“Noted. If it helps, consider this an official security detail duty.” With a plan in place, my flagging spirits rallied, and a renewed energy burst through my system like fireworks. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my messages until I found the one I needed. “Perfect—I just heard back from the organizer. Here’s the list of attendees for the state dinner. I’ll forward you a copy, and we can make a list of contenders.”

FIVE

“What’s the matter, dude? You’re moving like a ninety-year-old lady this morning,” my buddy Deacon said from the laptop screen.

I was in the basement workout room of Esme’s townhouse, trying to get my endorphin buzz on and forget about that stupid offer she’d made me the previous evening. Not once, but twice, she’d asked me to father her child.

Jesus.

I picked up the pace of my marine push-ups, knowing Deacon was right. I was moving slow this morning, and it had nothing to do with the early hour and everything to do with the fact I couldn’t seem to shake my weird fascination with her request.

Deacon, of course, was kicking my ass with the push-ups. We Facetimed like this several times a week to keep each other on track. I was dedicated to remaining in fighting shape because when I got the call to return to active duty, I wanted to be ready. Deacon was on medical leave recovering from a leg injury that would’ve sidelined most men permanently, but SEALs never quit until the job was done, and we both had years of fighting left in us.

My biceps trembled under the strain of overexertion and stress. Before I knew it, the hardwood floor rushed up at me and I barely managed not to face-plant. Deacon snickered onscreen and shook his head. “Dude, either you turned into a major wuss overnight or something’s up. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming it’s the latter. Want to talk about it?”

No, I really didn’t, but I would, just because I knew if I didn’t get it out, it would eat away at me. I’d always been hyper-observant, even before joining the SEALs. As I lay there now, panting and staring at the floor of the workout room, I found myself wishing I’d spent more time observing the situation with Esme so I could have seen her bombshell of an offer coming.

With a huge sigh, I sat up and rested my forearms on my knees, wiping the sweat from my face with a towel before hanging my head. “You ever have something huge come out of the blue and blindside you, D?”

“You mean besides the IED my caravan ran over?” Deacon’s words dripped with sarcasm.

I cringed. “Sorry. I just got thrown by something my new employer asked me last night, and I can’t seem to get it off my mind.”

“Hmm.” Deacon leaned closer to the computer screen on his end of the connection, frowning. “You’re working for some royal family, right, dude? What, did they ask you to be their new king or something?”

“Nah.” I shrugged and pushed to my feet, walking over to take a seat on a stool at the bar, putting Deacon and me—or at least, the computer screen and me—at eye level. “Well, sort of, indirectly. I don’t know.”

“What? You’re not making sense.”

“I know.” I raked a hand through my damp hair and cracked open a sports drink. “You can’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“The current king of Prylea is dying. He’s got maybe a month, at most. Could be as little as a week. Their law states a woman can’t inherit the throne. Princess Esme is the king’s only child. Without a son, the crown will go to the king’s nephew—who has been bragging right and left about all the horrible things he’ll do once he’s in power.”

“Bummer for the princess.” Deacon sat back, crossing his muscular arms. “Still don’t see what that’s got to do with you, bro.”

I glanced over at the staircase leading to the first floor and listened closely for any footsteps to signal Es might be awake. She was a notorious early riser, but considering it wasn’t even five in the morning yet, I thought my privacy was secure.

“She asked me to marry her and get her pregnant.”

Deacon just blinked at me a second, his face blank. “Say that again?”

“Princess Esme asked me to marry her and make a baby with her.” I had to force the words out of my constricted throat. It was wrong to have even considered such an insane idea, let alone talk about it with my SEAL buddy, yet I couldn’t seem to help myself. “If she’s married and pregnant with a son when the king dies, the baby will be the heir to the throne. The princess will be his regent until he’s eighteen. I said no, of course.”

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