Page 16 of The Heir Affair

She let out another sigh. ‘Okay, but can you tell me how to get to the suite? I just want to be alone.’

He bristled, not willing to let her out of his sight. But he forced himself not to demand she let him escort her… He would have to learn to only fight the battles that mattered, because demanding her obedience only made her more belligerent. Releasing his hold on her, reluctantly, he pulled his phone out and sent a message to Meghan, the yacht’s service manager.

‘I have requested that Meghan escort you to your suite,’ he told her as he put away his phone. ‘If there is anything you require, just ask and she will supply it.’

She nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She pressed her hand to her stomach as she grabbed her bag and coat from the seat. ‘And… I’m sorry. It was never my intention to make this so complicated.’

When Meghan arrived, Poppy thanked Theo too, then left with her. The weary set of her shoulders added incredulity to the surge of possessiveness—and determination.

Had she really believed telling him about the pregnancy would be simple? That he would have no interest in the child growing inside her? Of course, their situation was complicated. But frankly one thing remained clear. As the mother of his child, she would have to deal with him now. And he had no intention of letting her remain alone. And unprotected.

And that had not one thing to do with media intrusion.

‘There is a selection of nightclothes in the armoire, Miss Brown, and complimentary toiletries in the bathroom, but if there’s anything specific you need—in the way of clothing or accessories—I can get a crew member to pick them up first thing in the morning.’

Poppy turned from contemplating the lavish suite to find Meghan Henri, who had introduced herself as the yacht’s service manager, smiling at her.

‘No… That’s…’ She hesitated. The suite was beautifully furnished and appointed, the large picture window looking out onto the shoreline. She’d never lived anywhere so lavish, but something about this level of luxury felt incredibly intimidating, almost as intimidating as the man who owned it.

‘You’ve been so kind and helpful, Meghan,’ she said, desperately trying not to be totally overwhelmed. She’d almost burst into tears when Alex had tugged her into his arms and held her. Stupid really, because he was the cause of most of her panic, and that huge bottomless pit in her stomach, which had become a chasm when she’d seen the photographs on his brother’s phone. ‘But I’m only going to be here for one night.’

‘Of course, miss.’ The older woman’s expression remained gentle. ‘Is there anything else you would like, to eat or drink, before you retire for the night?’

‘No, thank you.’ Poppy shook her head. The last thing she would be able to do right now was eat anything. Her insides felt as if they had been knotted into a pretzel, while everything that had happened in the last hour was still bombarding her exhausted brain. She needed to sleep. Alex was right about that much. Hopefully everything would seem less overwhelming—and insurmountable—tomorrow.

She’d need to find another job, and she would probably have to get out of Galicos. But surely the press wouldn’t bethatinterested in the story. Perhaps she would just have to lie if they did track her down, and say the baby wasn’t Alex’s. She didn’t want anything from him, and surely he would have to see reason about supporting her, because it would mean acknowledging he was having a child with a woman who was not the one he was planning to marry.

Even if he didn’t have a romantic attachment to Princess Freya, he was obviously invested in the marriage.

She shivered at the memory of his ruthless explanation for the engagement. What kind of man agreed to marry a woman he barely knew to secure a land deal?

She let her gaze linger on the luxury furnishings, the leather upholstery and the silk quilt on the bed, monogrammed with the Caras Shipping logo, and felt the gentle sway of the water beneath her feet.

The kind of man who had enough money to own a yacht the size of an apartment building.

She took a careful breath. The good news was, while Alex’s wealth was intimidating, his business was also extremely important to him, which meant he would soon realise it was in his best interests not to claim the baby as his…

She swallowed. Not Alex,Xander.

Shehadto stop thinking of him by that name. He wasn’t Alex, he had never been Alex. Not really. That man had been an illusion, whom Xander Caras had created to seduce her and she had become besotted with far too easily. The brooding magnetism, the curt, guarded responses of the man she had met on the beach in Rhodes, had called to someone inside her who had always wanted to be seen by a man like him. A man who had appeared to be so emotionally unattainable even then. And so, as soon as he had finally been persuaded to give her a lift to the island, she had made it her mission to make him smile, to entertain him and not make him regret his decision.

And that day. When he had softened, when he had smiled at her and eventually laughed with her, when he had encouraged her to talk about her mum, she had been utterly captivated, while also feeling empowered, because she’d thought she had achieved something magnificent. That she had made this hard, closed-off man lighten up a little. And then, when they’d made love, and he’d been so intense, so focussed, so determined to give her pleasure, she had been intoxicated. And believed she had given him something equally precious in return, when it had all just been a tactic.

She breathed through the renewed swell of loss. The bitter stab of betrayal.

Get over it, Poppy.

Maybe Xander Caras had played her. But she had been unforgivably foolish and hopelessly naïve, too.

You let yourself get played because you got high on his attention that day. And then his lovemaking.

And that hadn’t been all Xander Caras’ fault. Whywouldn’the take advantage of her when she had been such an eager—and willing—participant? So addicted to their chemistry still, shehadn’t even been able to resist him when he’d kissed her again, ten minutes ago.

‘I’ll leave you for the night, Miss Brown,’ Meghan said, yanking Poppy out of the feverish internal monologue. ‘But if you think of anything, just press the call button.’

‘Thank you,’ Poppy said again, but as Meghan opened the door to leave, a question surfaced that had been lying in wait ever since the woman had mentioned the selection of nightwear—and even before that, when Alex, no,Xander, had talked about his relaxation regime in the hot tub.

‘Wait, Meghan… W-would you mind…? Could I ask you something, in confidence?’