She blinked.“What?”
He walked over and gently took Griffin from her arms.The baby didn’t protest, but his little face was already scrunching in that telltale warning of an approaching meltdown.
Without another word, Zayn crossed the cabin and opened a sleek panel in the wall.
Behind it stood a man and a woman in crisp cobalt-blue uniforms, both wearing practiced smiles that saidwe’ve handled screaming infants at 30,000 feet before breakfast.
“How can we help you, Your Highness?”the man asked smoothly.
“My son needs a bottle,” Zayn replied.“Hasim assured me the plane was stocked with formula and diapers?”
Azlyn blinked.
Well…of course it was.
“Yes, Your Highness.I’ll get a bottle ready for Prince Griffin immediately.I just need to warm the water,” the attendant said with a bow.
“Thank you,” Zayn replied, leaving the door open as he turned away.He cradled Griffin in one strong arm, gently rocking him, patting his tiny diapered bottom like he’d done this a hundred times before.
Azlyn watched them, her hands twisting together.“Thank you…for thinking to stock the plane.”Her voice was soft.“I had everything we needed in the diaper bag, but I didn’t exactly get a chance to grab it when I… when you…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as the weight of the morning slammed into her all over again.“Well.This morning happened.”
Zayn let out a low grumble.“You’re going to have to get used to having people around who anticipate your needs,” he said, still bouncing Griffin.“He’ll have his own security team soon.”
She blinked.“Security team?”
“He’s my heir.My parents will be thrilled to meet their grandson.”
Azlyn’s jaw dropped.Her mouth actually fell open before she managed to swallow the lump in her throat.“Your—” She swallowed again.“Your father is the Sheik of Lativa.”
Zayn gave a half-shrug, the kind only a prince who’d grown up in palaces could pull off.“I’m aware.”
“But…” She looked at her son in his arms.“Griffin isn’t—”
“He’s next in line, after me,” Zayn said simply, patting their son’s bottom as if he hadn’t just casually rearranged their entire future.
Azlyn’s mouth went dry.“He might not want to rule Lativa,” she whispered.
Zayn gave her a look.“It’s not about want.It’s about duty.I didn’t choose this life either, Azlyn.It’s who I am.I’ll lead with integrity and fairness—but it’s not a choice.It’s a responsibility.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over before she could stop them.“And me?”she asked, her voice catching.“What happens tome?What do I become in all this?”
Zayn stepped closer, his voice rough.“Whatever you want to be.Marrying me isn’t a prison sentence,” he snapped.“And Iamoffering you marriage, Azlyn!This—” he gestured between them, “—this is exactly what scared you off a year ago.”
She stared at him.“A year ago, you told me I’d be your mistress!”
His jaw flexed.“And I would have given youeverything!”
She exhaled slowly.“You would’ve given me every kind of physical pleasure, Zayn.”Her voice cracked.“But what aboutmy soul?What about the work I love?Mypurpose?”
“You wouldn’t haveneededto work!”he growled.“I was trying to tell you that, but you were too damn stubborn to listen.”
Azlyn didn’t rise to the bait.She inhaled deeply, looked down, gathered her thoughts, then met his eyes again.“When was the last time you took a vacation?”
He blinked.“What?”
“You heard me.”She stepped forward.“When was the last time you took arealvacation?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.“I don’t remember.”
