“When were you planning on telling me?”
She stopped, her hand frozen on the doorknob. For a moment, she said nothing, keeping her back to him. Stiff.Caught.But she did not give in right away. “Telling you what?”
“That you are pregnant.”
Ines stood there in the hall, her back to Alexandre, heart beating hard against her ribs.
He knew.Howdid he know? How could he have found that out? Certainly not bylookingat her. Perhaps she was heavier than she had been, her curves a bit more pronounced, but she wore clothes that hid that, she was almost certain.
“Unless you are sick, and that is the reason for these monthly doctor’s appointments, but you certainly do not lookill.”
She inhaled, trying to work through that. So he didn’t know forsure, but he knew a doctor had been to see her… And suddenly it all made sense. It wasn’t that hehadn’tfound her for months and now suddenly had.
He’d known where she was. Known everything. He simply hadn’tcollectedher for all these months. She closed her eyes, surprised at how much that realization hurt. Almost as bad as his never looking for her in the first place. He knew, and he hadn’t come to fetch her, fight for her or even let her go. He’d just…kept watch.
“You were just…keeping tabs on me all this time?” Why did she sound so winded? How could she be so hurt? Sheknewhim. Of course he had been doing just that. Why had she expected different?
“I could hardly let my queen gallivant off unprotected.”
“Gallivant?”She laughed bitterly, turning to face him. She leaned against the door behind her and studied him. “I ran away from you, Alexandre.”
If he had any reaction to this, it was hidden behind that forbidding expression. “You did not do a very good job,” he said flatly. Just standing there, somehow looking regal in his casual attire. Looking disapproving and detached.
Because he’d known for all this time where she’d been. He hadn’t come to fetch her until he’d heard there was adoctorinvolved. Achildinvolved.
“Answer the question, Ines,” he ordered, as he always did, with complete certainty his order would be followed. It was funny how even now it didn’t prompt her to want to be contrary for the sake of it. His demand for the truth was a fair-enough one, and she didn’t have energy for anything other than the truth.
“When was I planning on telling you? I don’t know. I promised myself I would after the three-month appointment. And then I gave myself another month to feel more…to be stronger. Physically. Being pregnant is not for the faint of heart.”
She saw a flicker of worry cross his face. Watched as he took a few steps toward her and then stopped as if remembering himself.
How could these two polarities exist inside him? Worry and kindness and warmth versus that cold, demanding detachment.
King and real man underneath? Mask and truth? It didn’t feel that easy. There was something messier at play, and she wanted to dive in and not fix it—there was no fixing the complications of humanity—she simply wanted to understand. To make sense of him.
“But you are well,” he said, his voice a little rough. He phrased this like a statement, like she had to be well because he said so.
But itwasa question, no matter how he put it. And it softened her when it shouldn’t. Like it might concern him that she was well. That this was not a totally one-sided connection, no matter how much he might like it to be.
“I am well. The baby is well.”
His gaze dropped, just for a fleeting moment, to her stomach. He could not see the soft swell of her belly under the draping of her shirt, she knew, but she feltseenjust the same.
“We have much to discuss,” Alexandre said roughly, then made no move to discuss it.
“Yes, I suppose we do, but I am tired. And hungry.”
“I shall have a tray sent up. Some breakfast cake and tea. That’s usually what you prefer this time of day, yes?”
“Yes.” She stared at him, wondering if it was foolish to be touched that he knew that about her, or was it his robotic need to make everythingcorrect? To know what she ate and when. Was it control? Interest? Concern?
Maybe it was all three. Maybe his feelings for her were as mixed up as hers were for him. Because she should be angry and defiant and contrary, and shedidfeel some anger. But she also ached to touch him.
She’dmissedhim. His steady presence. He was such ananchor, even when they were doing little more than sharing a meal, she felt safe with him. In ways that were new to her because growing up in her father’s house had always meant being concerned how she would be used next.
Alexandre didn’tuseher. Even when he was controlling, even when he was so worried about theiropticsand his kingdom. She wasn’t a pawn so much as a usefultool, and that meant he valued her in some way.
But he frustrated her and concerned her and infuriated her and… And he was standing close enough right now that she just wanted to kiss him. To feel what she’d felt in his office all those months ago. An uncontrollable heat—something so big, so important, so soul-deep that even perfect, controlled King Alexandre couldn’t resist.
