The Queen's New Year Secret

“I am the only man you have ever been with. You and I both know that. You were a virgin when I had you the first time. I sincerely doubt you went out and found the first lover available to you just after leaving my arms.”

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling. “You say that as though you know me. We both know that you don’t. We both know that you feel nothing for me.”

“In this moment, I find I feel quite a lot.”

“I’ve only just found out. It isn’t as though I was keeping a secret from you. Where exactly do you get off coming in here, playing the part of caveman?”

“You were going to keep it from me. The doctor called me. If you knew you were coming to the doctor to get a pregnancy test, why didn’t you include me?”

“Because,” she said, looking at the wall beyond him, “that’s the beauty of divorce. I don’t have to include you in my life. I get to go on as an individual. Not as one half of the world’s most dysfunctional couple. I would have told you. I was hardly going to keep this from you. If for no other reason than that the press would never let me.”

“How very honorable of you. You would let me in on my impending fatherhood based on what the media would allow you to keep secret. Tell me, would you allow them to announce it to me via headline?”

“That sounds about right considering the level of communication we’ve always had. Honestly, I haven’t much noticed the absence of you in the past four weeks. It was pretty much standard to our entire marriage. Sex once a month with no talking in between.”

“Still your poisonous tongue for a moment, my queen. We have a serious issue to deal with here.”

“There is no issue,” she said, her hand going protectively to her stomach. “And there is no dealing with it. What’s done is done.”

“What exactly did you think I was suggesting?” His dark features contorted with horror. With anger. “You cannot seriously think I would suggest you get rid of our child. Just because you and I are experiencing difficult circumstances at the moment—”

“No. That isn’t what I thought you meant. And what do you mean difficult circumstances? We are not undergoing difficult circumstances. If anything, we’re experiencing some of the best circumstances we’ve had in years. We aren’t together anymore, Kairos. That’s what we both need.”

“Not now. There will be no discussion of it.”

She stood up, feeling dizzy. “The hell there won’t be. I am not your property. I can divorce you if I choose, discussion or not.”

“Can you? I am king of Petras.”

“And I am an American citizen.”

“In addition to being a citizen of Petras.”

“I will happily chuck my Petran passport into the river. As long as it will get you off my back.”

“We are not having this discussion here,” he said through clenched teeth. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

“I have a car.”

“Oh, yes, my driver that you’re still using. From the house that I own that you are currently living in.”

“I will sort things out later,” she said, stinging heat lashing her cheekbones. It was humiliating to have him bring up the fact she was dependent on him to not be homeless at the moment. Particularly since she had made such a big deal out of knowing she would get nothing from him after the divorce. But still, he wasn’t using his apartment in town, nor was he using the car and driver that were headquartered there. So he could hardly deny her the use of them. Well, he could. But he wasn’t, so she was taking advantage.

“Oh, I sent your driver home. The only driver currently here is mine. You are leaving with me. Now.”

He stood there, his arms folded across his broad chest, his dark eyes glued to her.

“Don’t look at me. I have to get dressed.”

“It is nothing I haven’t seen, agape.”

She treated him to her iciest glare. “Rarely.”

The biting word hung between them and she felt some guilt over it. Truly, the state of their sex life was partly her fault. If not mostly her fault. But having him touch her out of duty... It had certainly started to wear on her.

Eventually, it was just easier to lie back and think of Petras. To close her eyes and think of other things. Hope that it would be over quickly. To not allow herself to feel a connection with him. To shut walls around her heart, and around her body. The less she felt during sex, the less pain she felt when it was over. The less disappointment each time he got up and left immediately after, each time the pregnancy test was negative. The less distress she felt over the fact that any intimacy between them was all for the purpose of producing a child. That it was completely void of any kind of emotion between the two of them.

Yes, the fast, disappointing sex in the dark was mainly her fault.

“As you wish, my queen.” He turned away from her, his broad back filling her vision. And, damn him, she felt bad. Guilty. He did not deserve her guilt.

She kept her eyes on him as she stripped off the hospital gown she was wearing. On the way the perfectly cut lines of his suit molded to his physique. He was a handsome man. There was no denying it. He was also a bastard.

She finished dressing, then cleared her throat.

Kairos turned, the fierceness in his expression wavering for a moment. An emotion there that she couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the palace.” He hesitated. “We have some things to discuss.”

“I don’t want to discuss this right now. I’ve only just found out I’m pregnant. I believe you had to know before I did.”

“You at least had a suspicion.”

“You think that makes it easier? Do you think that makes any of this...?” Her voice broke, her entire body shaking. “I should not be devastated in this moment. I hate you for this too. I was supposed to be happy when I finally conceived. You’ve stolen that for me.”

“Who stole it, Tabitha? I was not the one who asked for a divorce.”

“Maybe not. But you made your feelings for me perfectly clear. It’s poison now, already working its way through my system. You can’t fix it.”

He said nothing as they walked out of the exam room and continued down the long vacant hallway toward a back entrance. His car was waiting there, not one driven by a chauffeur. One of his sports cars that he got great enjoyment out of driving.

He was a low-key man, her husband. Responsible, levelheaded. Serious.

But he liked cars. And he very much enjoyed driving them. Much too fast for her taste. But he never asked her opinion.

“I’m not especially in the mood to deal with your Formula 1 fantasies,” she said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, giving him her best withering expression.

“Funny. I’m not particularly in the mood to put up with your attitude, and yet, here we are.”

“You have earned every bit of my attitude, Your Highness.”

“So angry with me, Tabitha, when you spent so many years with so little to say.”

“What have I said, my lord?”

He made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. “My lord. As if you are ever so deferential.”

She arched her brow. “As if you ever deserved it.” She breezed past him and got inside the car, slamming the door shut behind her and setting about to buckling her seat belt while he got in and started the engine.

“What happened, Tabitha? What happened?”

“There was nothing. Like you said. Nothing. And I can’t live that way anymore.”

“You’re having my baby. I don’t see you have an option now. Clearly the divorce is off.”

He revved the engine, pressing the gas and pulling the car away from the curb.

“The divorce is no such thing,” she said, panic clawing at her insides. “The divorce is absolutely on. You might be royalty, but you can’t pull endless weight with me. I am not simply another subject in your country. I have rights.”

“Oh, really? And with what money will you hire a lawyer to defend those rights? Everything you have is mine, Tabitha, and we both know it.”

“I will find a way.” She didn’t know if she would. He wasn’t wrong. She was nothing. Nothing from nowhere. She had climbed her way up from the bottom. From a poor household on the wrong side of the tracks with parents who would spend every night screaming at each other, throwing things. Her mother hurling heavy objects at her stepfather’s head whenever the mood struck her.

And that was before everything had gone horribly wrong.

There had been no money in her household. Not enough food. All there had been was anger. And that was an endless well. One that her parents drew from at every possible opportunity. That was her legacy. It was all she had. It was why she had vowed to find something different for herself. Something better.

What she had found was that sometimes everything that filled the quiet spaces, everything that went unsaid, was more cutting, more painful than a dinner plate being hurled at your head.

Kairos said nothing but simply kept driving. It took a while for her to realize they weren’t heading back to the palace, but when she did, a cold sense of dread filled her. She realized then that she honestly couldn’t predict what he might be doing. Because she didn’t know him. Five years she had been married to this man and she knew even less about him today than she had on the day they had married. Impossible, seemingly.

She’d spent three years as his PA prior to them getting engaged and married. Three years where she had cultivated a silly, childish crush on him. He had smiled easier then, laughed with her sometimes.

But that was before his father had died. Before the weight of the nation had fallen on his shoulders. Before his arranged engagement was destroyed by his impetuous younger brother. Before he had been forced to take on a replacement wife that he had never wanted, much less loved.

Those years spent as his PA had been like standing on the outside of a forest. She had looked on him and thought, I recognize him. He’s a forest. Being his wife was like walking through it. Discovering new dangers, discovering that it was so dark, she could barely see in front of her. Discovering she had no idea where the trees might end, and where she might find her freedom. Yes, the deeper she walked, the less she knew.

“You aren’t planning on driving your car into a river or something dramatic, are you?” she asked, only half joking.

“Don’t be silly. We spent years trying for an heir, I’m not going to compromise anything now that we have one on the way.”

“Oh, but otherwise you would be aiming for a cliff. Good to know.”

“And leave Andres to rule? Don’t be ridiculous.”

It occurred to her suddenly, exactly where they were heading. Unease stole over her, her scalp prickling. “What are you planning?”

“Me? Perhaps I’m not planning anything. Perhaps I’m being spontaneous.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You’re so convinced that I don’t know you, and yet, you think you know me, agape? How fair is that?”

She didn’t think she knew him. But she wasn’t about to admit that now. “You’re a man, Kairos. Moreover, you’re a distinctly predictable one.”

“If I cared about your opinion at all I would be tempted to feel wounded. Alas, I don’t.”

He turned onto the private airfield used by the royal family and her heart sank. Her suspicions were very much confirmed. “What is it you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m doing anything. This is the situation, my darling bride, either you come with me now or we do this here in Petras.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Come to an agreement on exactly what we will do now that we are to be parents. And by come to an agreement, I mean what I will decide. Do not forget that I am the king. Whatever laws might govern the rest of the people do not apply to me.”

Rage filled her, flooded her. “Since when? You’ve never been the most flexible of men, but you’ve never been a dictator.”

“I’ve never been a father before either. Neither have I ever been in the position of having my wife threaten to leave me.”

“I didn’t threaten to leave you, Kairos. I left you. There is a difference.”

“Regardless. Come with me, and we will have a discussion. If you refuse, then I will ensure that I get full custody of our child, and you will never see him. I give you my word on that. And unlike you, when I make a vow, I keep it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

KAIROS LOOKED AT his wife, who was seated across the cabin from him on his private plane. He had a feeling she was plotting his death. Fortunately, Tabitha was quite petite or he might harbor some concern over her having access to any cutlery. At this point, he doubted she would hesitate to attempt to take him out with her fork. In many ways, he couldn’t blame her. But he had to guard his own self-interest, and guard it he would.

There was no room to be soft in this.

She was having his baby. An heir. Finally.

At any other time this would have been a cause for celebration. The completion of his duty in many ways. A fulfillment of deathbed promises made to a father he’d never quite pleased during his life.

The moment he’d found out, the only thought he had was how he could capture her. Keep her with him. He had no idea what he was going to do beyond that. But he had managed to get her on the plane, even though it had taken threats. Now, they were en route to his private island off the coast of Greece. The villa there had always been used by the royal family of Petras for vacations. Kairos had never taken Tabitha there. He had not been on a vacation since he had taken her as his wife.

Of course, this was no vacation. Some might call it a kidnapping. But he was king. So he imagined he could classify it as some kind of political detention. She was, after all, carrying the heir to the throne of Petras. If she were to leave, it would be kidnapping on her end.

At least, that’s how he was justifying things. And he was king. The amount of people he had to justify his actions to was limited to one. Himself.

She didn’t look angry. She looked as smooth and unruffled as ever. Her hands were folded in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles, her lovely neck craned as she looked out the window. She managed to appear both neutral and haughty, a feat he had only ever seen managed by Tabitha.

Years of routine. A marriage so mundane he could go days without looking at her. Even if they were in the same room. He would look in her direction, but, he realized, never truly look at her. It was easy sometimes to go a full week without words passing directly between them. Communication with a phone or servant as the go-between.

And in the space of the past four weeks everything had changed. She had asked for a divorce. Then he’d torn her clothes off and taken her like a rutting animal. Now there was a baby.

The past four weeks contained more than the past half decade they’d spent as husband and wife. He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around it. Around who he had become in her arms in those moments in his office. He was angry. Enraged that she would walk away from him after all he had done for her. Enraged that half-formed fantasies he had barely let himself dream would never come to be.

He had imagined they would be married all of their lives. He had never imagined she would end it.

“Are you quite comfortable?” he asked, because he could think of nothing else to say and he had grown quite uncomfortable with his role as uncivilized beast and the little play they were currently acting out.

He was the responsible one. He’d never acted out, not once in his life. His father had impressed the weight of the crown upon him at an early age, and Kairos had always taken it seriously. He had seen the consequences of what happened when one did not. Had had it ingrained in him.

Control was everything. Duty. Honor. Sacrifice.

He was surprised how easily he had cast it off the moment his wife had handed him divorce papers.

And so, he was attempting to reclaim it.

As you kidnap her. Brilliant.

“Yes,” she said, her tone brittle. “Very. But then, I don’t have to tell you your private plane is luxurious. You already know.”

“Indeed.”

“How long had I been working for you the first time we flew on this plane?”

“A couple of months, surely,” he said, as though he didn’t remember it clearly. He did. There was something so charming and guileless about her reaction to the private aircraft. It had stood in stark contrast to the response of his fiancée at the time, Francesca.

He had noticed it then, as he compared the two women unfavorably. Francesca was, of course, eminently suitable to be a royal bride. That was why he had selected her. Love had never come into play. She had been raised in an aristocratic family, trained to be the wife of a political leader from an early age.

Of course, it had all blown up in his face when she had slept with his brother. That might not have bothered him so much, had she not done it quite so publicly. Not that she had intended for it to go public. Ruining her chances of becoming the queen of Petras had not been the plan. That much he knew. Still, a video had surfaced of the two of them together, and that did it for their wedding.

He needed to find a wife to fill in for the royal wedding that was already planned, and quickly. And so, he had selected Tabitha to be his bride. A logical decision. An acceptable flesh-and-blood woman.

Perhaps all women were destined to go crazy at some point in their lives. His mother certainly had. Walking out on her husband and children in the dead of night, never resurfacing again. Francesca most certainly had when she’d compromised her position as queen simply so she could experience some pleasure with Andres. Obviously, Tabitha was the newest victim of the craze.

Or maybe it’s you.

He gritted his teeth.

“I was impressed with it then,” she said. “I remain impressed. I am less impressed with the fact that you hijacked my person.”

“It was a hard-line negotiation, not a hijacking. Surely you see the difference.”

“The end result is the same to me, so why should I care about semantics?”

“You were quite impressed with the plane,” he said, his voice hard, “as I recall.”

“Don’t tell me you remember.”

“Of course I remember. You were very young. Wide-eyed about everything you encountered here in Petras. Especially everything concerning the royal family and the palace. I had a fair idea about your background, because of course I screened you before hiring you. I knew you came from a modest upbringing.”

“That’s a generous way of putting it.”

“Impoverished, then. Yes, I knew. But you were bright, and you were certainly the best person for the job. You were motivated, in part because of your past. I thought, possibly more driven than any of the other candidates to succeed.”

“Are these the same thoughts you had when you selected me to be your wife?”

He could sense the layers hidden beneath the question, but couldn’t guess what they were. “I also knew you,” he said.

She made a scoffing sound, uncrossed her legs, then recrossed them the opposite direction, annoyance emanating from her in a wave. “Oh. You knew me. As in, were acquainted with me. How very romantic.”

“Did I ever promise you romance, Tabitha?” She said nothing, her glare glacial now. “No. I did not. I told you that I would stay faithful to you, and I have. I told you that I would be loyal to you, which I have also done. That I would do my duty to God, country and to you. I have done all of that, to a satisfactory degree, many would say. You were the one who decided it wasn’t enough.”

Righteous anger burned through him. He had not lied to her. He had not told her he would give hearts, flowers or any frilly symbol of weak emotion. He had pledged commitment.

She seemed to have no concept of that at all. He would never have taken her for being so faithless. He had thought she was like him. Had thought she was logical. Had thought that she understood sacrifice. That duty and honor superseded emotion.

“A theoretical marriage is a lot different than actual marriage. I can hardly be held to assumptions I made before I had ever had a...a relationship.”

“Certainly you can. Everyone makes vows before they marry. For the most part, they have never made such vows before.”

“And sometimes marriages end. Because in spite of the best intentions of everyone involved, things don’t work out the way you thought they would.”

“As I am also not a fortune-teller, I fail to see how I can be held accountable for not fulfilling needs you did not voice to me. In addition to not being able to see the future, I cannot read your mind.”

“Even if you could, I can only imagine that you would find it unworthy of listening to.”

“When exactly did you become such a pain?” he asked, not bothering to temper his anger. “You were not like this before we were married.”

“That’s because before we were married, you paid me to be your assistant. An assistant is not a wife.”

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