Page 32 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘You’re the mother of my child. You’re the daughter and sister of a duke. I need a queen.’

‘So I fit the criteria,’ she hooked her fingers and made quotation marks in the air, ‘for a queen. Did you think perhaps I might have been involved in these discussions? Since, I don’t know, they involveme?’

‘You’re being involved now. You must see it’s a practical solution.’

She crossed her arms, her mouth a thin line. ‘I don’t see that at all. Practical would be taking me home, talking to my brother about your concerns and organising security with him. This? I don’t know even what to call it. Comedy hour, perhaps?’

‘There is nothing comedic here.’

‘Oh, I know that, Sandro,’ she hissed through gritted teeth.

‘You would have the weight of a country behind your safety. Nic would be protected by my blood, by the crown. Think of him if nothing else.’

She leaped from her chair, began to pace. ‘Think of him?I’ve done nothing but think of him from themomenthe was conceived. Don’t youdaretry to use him against me. You were nowhere in this scenario and now you swoop in to try and take control. I’ve been married once and I never want that again. Been there. Know what it’s like. Over my dead body.’

At those words, she stopped her pacing, placed trembling fingers over her mouth as if trying to shove the words back in. The most terrifying thing was that it might have come to that. He’d put nothing past his cousin. Nothing at all.

Victoria seemed to come back to herself. ‘Is that what the other night was about? The romantic dinner for two. The...the...sex. Were you trying to butter me up for this? A proposal?’

Now it was his turn to stand. The sudden motion caused a stab of pain behind his eye. He flinched. Paused. The unfairness of that accusation struck him.

‘Never! Why would you say that?’

‘I don’t know. We have sex, then this farce. What did you think? That a few orgasms might make me happy enough to say yes? Lucky me. Except you probably shouldn’t have given me the cold shoulder because that sure let me know where I fit into your life.’ She gave a sharp and bitter laugh.

‘You are not taking this situation seriously.’

‘Not taking...thehideof you. I was all but kidnapped—’

‘You came willingly. To protect Nic.’

She snorted. ‘Don’t you dare rewrite history as a panacea for your guilty conscience. I remember what you said.“Every contingency was planned for.”Tell me now, what did that mean?’

He shook his head and grabbed the desk to steady himself as an aura prickled the side of his vision. Not here, not now. This wasnotthe time. He had to finish this discussion.

‘I was trying to keep you safe. You didn’t care when I told you what my cousin was capable of.’

‘Showed me, don’t forget. And how could I forget that photograph? Tell me, Sandro, how does it feel to use your parents’ deaths to manipulate a woman? Do you think they’d be proud?’

He reared back. No one spoke about his parents other than in hushed tones and reverence.‘Enough.’

He couldn’t take more of this. This conversation that had skidded out of control. He had no sense of finesse here, all he was filled with was anger and pain. The signs were unmistakeable now. He’d had too many of these headaches over the past month. The vision fading in his periphery. The tightness in his head like an iron band. Sandro knew what was coming and it was something he couldn’t control. There was no continuing the conversation, not like this. He required his doctor, a dark room, some hours to himself.

He moved from behind his desk, his legs still steady but might not be for long. The whole world was contracting in on him, crushing him like a vice. He pinched his nose.

‘This conversation is over.’

Victoria crossed her arms, glowering. ‘Why? Can’t you take the truth?’

He could not let Victoria see him like this, because there was only one truth. If she discovered it, she would never trust him, and never stay. He was a man who, in these moments, was weak.

A man wholly unable to protect her or Nicolai.

Victoria checked on Nicci, quietly asleep in his cot. She watched the rise and fall of his chest. The warm wash of love, spiked with something sharper and more jagged—fear—ran over her. In the end, Sandro was right. It was all about their son. Her life had changed. There was no going back. She had to keep Nic safe.

Yet this morning, with Sandro...those old hurts creeping into her consciousness. The sex, then his aloofness. His attempt to control. It all brought back memories of her marriage, those triggers which still haunted her. Her reaction had been her way of self-protection. She’d lived a life of emotional unpredictability, with a man running hot and cold, passionate then cruel, till she was left little more than a husk of a person. She could never go back there again.

Now, watching Nicci sleep, she had time to reflect. Sandro’s passion for her on their night together in his suite hadn’t seemed feigned. That whole night it was as if they were both possessed by something shocking and out of control. They’d also both confessed they thought it was a bad idea. Would he have said that if he was trying to manipulate her? Or would he have made her promises of love and adoration instead?

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