Carrying The King's Pride

Guilt slammed into her, swift and hard.

“Come with me,” he said flatly. “Before my actions set off a national security crisis. We’ll talk and figure this out.”

She pursed her lips. “I would need to see if Katharine can handle the shop by herself.”

“Call her.”

She fished out her mobile and dialed her partner. Katharine assured her she’d be fine for a couple of days.

“All right,” she said to Nik. “I’ll go. We talk. And then you fly me back.”

He nodded. “Efharisto.” Thank you.

It occurred to her as they boarded the plane at a small private airfield outside of the city that she was putting herself on Nik’s turf, where he yielded complete power. The power of a king. Perhaps not the wisest of decisions, she acknowledged as the tiny jet took off and left the lights of Manhattan behind. But she couldn’t add any more stress to his life. Not now.

She waited until she’d endured what was always a white-knuckle affair for her in the takeoff before curling up in one of the chairs in the seating area of the luxurious jet. Then she attacked the elephant in the room. Or aircraft, as it would be...

“I know this has huge ramifications for you, Nik, but it does for me, as well. How do we deal with the distances? How am I going to juggle a baby and the shop?”

He leveled his gaze on her. “You aren’t. You’re the future Queen of Akathinia, Sofía. Queens don’t work.”

She stared at him. Queen? That would entail her being married to him... “You can’t be serious.”

His mouth flattened, the determination on his face making her heart pound. “Unless this baby turns out to be someone else’s, which I highly doubt, then yes, I am entirely serious.”

She didn’t like the edge to his voice or the look on his face. “Of course it’s yours. How can you even ask that?”

He looked at her as if she was naive to be asking the question. “How far along are you?”

“Eight weeks.”

“A blood test will confirm it, then.” He lifted a brow. “Funny how we were obsessively careful not to allow a pregnancy to happen and yet, magically, it happened on that last night when you asked me not to wear a condom.”

She stared at him. “Tell me you are not suggesting I manufactured this pregnancy.”

He shrugged, his face as hard as she’d ever seen it. “It wouldn’t be the first time in history it’s happened.”

The blood drained from her face. She yanked off her seat belt and launched herself at him, her palm arcing through the air toward his cheek. He caught her hand before it got anywhere near his face and yanked it down to her side, pulling her onto his lap.

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