‘The pregnancy changes everything for me,’ she contradicted sharply. ‘But none of that concerns you.’
‘How are you erasing me from our babies’ life?’
‘You erased yourself,’ she reminded him. ‘You made it abundantly clear how unsuitable I was to be anything more than your secret, shameful mistress.’
‘So like I said, this was about punishing me? Because you were offended by the pragmatic and realistic nature of my proposal?’
She stared at him. ‘Are you listening to me? You wanted to hide me away back then and now you’re saying we should get married. How would that work? You said no one would accept me as your mistress. But they will accept me as your wife?’
‘It won’t be straightforward,’ he said, voice steady. ‘You are not who I am expected to marry.’
She stood up then, anger coursing through her veins, and she was so relieved to feel it, because it was easier to manage than anxiety and nervousness. ‘You really are a gigantic horse’s ass.’
‘That,’ he enunciated clearly, ‘is precisely the kind of thing you will be expectednotto say when you are Queen.’
The world tilted. Everything went hazy.
She stared at him, aghast.
Queen.
Not just his wife, but Queen of Castilona. She pressed a hand to her stomach, moving towards one of the windows that framed a view over the city and towards the ocean. She stared at the glittering water, made to look almost magical by the way the sun bounced off its surface. This was an ancient and storied kingdom. Its royal family was one of the oldest surviving in the world. There was so much history here, so much tradition. And he was asking her to be a part of that. To be Queen.
She had never sought the limelight though. If anything, Phoebe was shy, and the thought of living her life so publicly sent a chill through her spine. But what did that matter? Octavio was right. Their babies would be princes or princesses of this kingdom, if he chose to acknowledge them as such. That would mean their lives would be public, their role in the line of succession ensuring they were always persons of interest to the public. There was no way Phoebe could let that happen without her being there toprotect them. If Octavio was determined to do this, then Phoebe had to be a part of the deal.
But…
Surely she could change his mind?
‘This doesn’t make sense,’ she said with a small shake of her head. ‘You’re meant to be marrying a princess, and I’m meant to be going home in a few months.’
‘This is your home now.’
Something tugged at her heart. Hadn’t she felt that way the moment she’d landed? Hadn’t the air and the sea and history and architecture weaved in and out of her DNA, reminding her of something she’d never even known? The first time she’d gone to the beach and the water had washed over her bare feet, she’d felt almost as if she were being baptised. It had been remarkable—inexplicable. But that was a connection to her father’s homeland; it didn’t matter right now.
She glanced at him and then looked away again quickly, when just the sight of him made her pulse tremble.
‘What about Sasha?’ There was no sense pretending she didn’t remember the other woman’s name.
‘She’ll be surprised,’ he conceded. ‘But not disappointed.’
‘You sound convinced of that.’
‘We are not a couple.’
Phoebe nodded slowly. ‘Still, it might prove embarrassing to her.’
‘Unfortunately, that’s unavoidable. We were not officially engaged, however. It’s only rumours, and they can easily be countered.’
Phoebe’s lips pulled to the side. ‘This is a lot,’ she said, rubbing her temple gingerly. ‘I think we should both go and think about this overnight.’
‘You may go and think, but it will change nothing for me.’
Her jaw dropped in the face of his absolute certainty, but at least he was offering her a reprieve. She thought longingly of the apartment she’d rented, and the space it would afford her to come to grips with this development.
‘Okay.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘We can talk tomorrow.’
‘Fine. My aide will take you to my apartment.’
