Xavier snapped out of searching her expression to realize she was bickering with her brother, refusing to go with him.
“All those times you showed up when I called makes it possible for me to work through this. I know you will come if I ask. That means everything. But until I ask, you have to butt out.”
With a resigned scowl, Ramon dropped his arm from around her. “Bueno.”
“And be nicer to Iz—”
“No. Butting out goes both ways. And you will introduce me to your host.”
* * *
“Did you call me a virgin?” Xavier asked Trella in an ominous tone as they entered his suite hours later. “You switched between French and Spanish so often, I might have heard wrong.”
She tried not to snicker. “I told you it was a bad habit. Ramon and I are the worst because we get heated and grab the first word that comes in any language.”
Ramon had joined them for a meal that might have been pleasant if so many questions hadn’t been hanging over her like a guillotine blade. If he’d caught her alone again, he would have skewered her with all of them, she was sure, but he’d behaved. They had played verbal tennis as they always did, sticking to neutral topics like films and current events.
Sparring with her brother always helped restore her confidence. Where Gili was her security blanket and Henri was her rock, Ramon was her worthy adversary, keeping her sharp and forcing her to hold her own. She was tired and stifling yawns, but her lingering melancholy had lightened. As she looked into the cloudy crystal ball that was her future, she was thinking, I can do this.
Especially because, like her, Xavier seemed to be experiencing the same threads of attraction they’d felt when they had made this baby. A selection from her closet in Paris had arrived earlier and she now wore a dark blue skirt and a white maternity top. It draped her breasts in such a flattering way, she’d caught Xavier eyeing her chest more than once while they ate, making her tingle and giving her hope.
She turned her back on him and lifted her hair, silently requesting he release the tiny clasp at the top of her spine, realizing she hadn’t properly answered his question. “And yes, I did. Ramon asked me how you did with looking after me through my attack. I said pretty well, for a virgin.”
“Lovely. I hope the dining staff enjoyed that.” His breath warmed the back of her neck along with the light brush of his fingertips, making her shiver.
“I said worse. I called Ramon a—”
“I heard that one. Very clearly,” he cut in dryly, motioning her to lead the way to her side of the apartment. “Because of his engagement to ‘Izzy.’”
“Isidora, yes. She’s a dear friend. Her father handled our media for years. Aside from Gili, she was my only friend for a long time.”
Her heart dipped and rolled when he turned, locking them into her bedroom. Despite her rough night, sleeping with him had been more than comforting. She had liked the brushes of contact and the inherent intimacy, the way his strong arms had made her feel so safe. It had given her that bonding feeling she had felt in Paris, one that was incredibly bolstering.
His efforts to comfort also gave her hope for their marriage. All her flaws had been laid bare, yet he had stayed with her. She was deeply gratified. Touched.
Now all she had to explain was that, as much as she might like to, she couldn’t make love. Practically blushing at the mere thought, because she was so deeply tempted, she moved to take up her brush and began working it through her hair, trying to act casual as nerves accosted her.
He moved to lean on the footboard of the bed, appearing in the mirror behind her. The way he watched as she stroked her hair made her feel as though she was enticing him. The crackle of tension on the air was exciting, giving her that sense of power in her sexuality he’d instilled the first time. Oh, she wished their timing wasn’t so far off.
His expression tightened before he jerked his gaze away, clearing his throat. “If she’s such a good friend, why don’t you approve of her?”
“Who? Oh. Um.” She blushed at having her mind fixated on intimate acts while he was clearly not. “I approve of Isidora completely, but Ramon is sleeping with her.”
“Stickler for waiting until after the wedding, are you?” He dropped a pointed gaze to her middle.
“Ha-ha.” She tapped the brush against her thigh then set it aside. “No, their engagement is a publicity stunt. Earlier this year, Isidora took over her father’s position at Sauveterre International.” Trella took off her earrings and bracelet. “You’ll notice Ramon’s very public proposal coincides with the first photos of my pregnancy showing up online. He does that all the time, takes the spotlight off the rest of us. Izzy is so loyal she went along with it, but she had a terrific crush on Ramon when we were young. He never returned it and shouldn’t sleep with her if he has no intention of marrying her. She’s going to get hurt. That makes me mad.”
“I see. Well, kindly convey that we would prefer fewer stunts in future. My team will handle—” he indicated her middle again “—this.”
She blinked, not expecting him to be worried for Izzy, not really, but his cool attention to his own interests sent a premonition down her spine like a drip of icy water.
It occurred to her that he had closed the door not because he wanted to nurture the growing trust between them. He wanted to have a conversation that was best held within the gilded cage he’d assigned her.
Logically she knew she had imprinted on her first lover like a baby duckling emerging from its protective shell. She’d spent weeks reliving Paris and imagining this reunion , dreaming up scenarios where he was as happy about her pregnancy as she was.
It was delusional. She had known that, but apparently she was still building castles in the sky because a minute ago, she had been okay with his knowing all her worst secrets. Now a grossly naked sensation accosted her, like he had leverage on her.
She tried to disguise her apprehension with a tough smile. “It’s time to discuss this. Isn’t it?”
The barest flicker of emotion reflected in his blink. He folded his arms and tilted his head in assent. “Gunter informs me your doctor has accepted my offer of a residency at Hospital del Re, with a mandate to ensure our obstetrics wing is the best in the world. She’ll be here tomorrow and has requested a private room be prepared for you.”
“Bed rest.” Trella had known it was coming, but still made a face of dismay.
“You’ll fight it?”
“No.” She wasn’t able to keep the dread from her voice, though. “It’s for the best.”
“It is.”
Something in his tone, in the subtle shift of his expression, pricked up her ears. Relief? His approval of her going into the hospital had nothing to do with the health of their unborn child. He was protecting his own interests again!
An ache of hurt spread through her until all her sweet imaginings had been pushed out and she was left with the ugly reality. She really had been deceiving herself all these months.
“Keeps me out of sight, does it? Is that the Queen’s preference? Or yours?” Behind the stir of their child, her abdomen tightened.
His expression grew even more shuttered. “It’s expedient for all. You said you don’t want the attention our association brings.”
“Don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. Are we not marrying, then?” Clearly not, if he was hiding her away.
Her arms pulled into a defensive fold across her front. Her shoulders grew rock hard while she ignored the creep of anguish that began working in tendrils through her core. What did she care? She didn’t want a husband anyway!
Right?
“Of course we’ll marry.” He mirrored her posture, arms folded, seeming relaxed in the way he leaned on the footboard, but there was a stillness to him, an implacability in his tone. “Elazar had a bastard monarch in the 1700s. It was a bloody fight to keep the reign. We’ve been sticklers for legitimacy ever since.”
She understood she was speaking to a future king now, not the charming prince who had lulled her with something that had resembled caring. Twice.
“Our marriage will be a private ceremony. Announced, but without fanfare. No formal photos. We’ll keep it brief.”
“The ceremony? Or the marriage?”
“Both.”
The tendons in her neck flexed as she fought a choke, doing her best to hide how deeply he was striking against her hard-won self-worth. “How brief?”
“We’ll divorce by the end of the year.”
Her teeth closed on the inside of her lip, biting down harder and harder until she had to consciously remind herself not to break the skin.
What had she expected after showing him her true colors? A declaration of love? A desire to live out his life with that? Well, she knew exactly how much duty he felt toward her, didn’t she? Not even four months’ worth.
“That’s quite the virgin birth you’re orchestrating.”
His eyes narrowed at her shaken tone. “Is this conversation going to bring on another attack?”
Oh, she hated above all things to be managed like she was too delicate for honesty.
“I do better when I know what’s coming.” Her voice only trembled a little, mostly from the effort to hide the burn of disgrace sizzling under her skin. “Is this room a time machine, by the way? I feel we’ve gone back to your 1700s and I’m something shameful you’re sweeping under the rug.”