The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(28)

Sienna shivered. So that was how he’d found her. ‘Thank you, Sebastiano. So if I call my landlady to enquire after my apartment?’

‘Please, feel free. But you will discover that your rent has been paid and your personal belongings sent for, to make your stay here more comfortable.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, I think, allowing herself to be led away, and feeling the noose around her neck growing tighter by the minute.

The next day under the trellised vines shading the terrace, Sienna daydreamed, thinking back to a time she could only imagine, another time when her mother had discovered she was pregnant, with a marriage to Sienna’s father hastily arranged in that discovery’s wake.

Had her mother felt this terror, this fear of having a new life growing inside her and all the unknowns that went with it? Had she been secretly afraid of the prospect of marrying a man who had blown into town on the tide? Or had love blinded her to those fears, so that the prospect of marrying the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, and of bearing him a child, was so utterly exciting that she’d had no doubts?

She’d been so young, barely eighteen at the time and eight years younger than Sienna was now. Surely she must have had doubts, no matter how much she’d thought she’d loved him? Surely she must have wondered if the wanderlust father of her child could ever really change?

‘It’s time for your ultrasound.’

Rafe’s voice intruded into her thoughts, and she blinked, the present world suddenly coming back into sharp focus as she looked up and he filled her vision, instantly kicking new life into her heart rate. How he still had that effect on her when she was basically his prisoner here, she couldn’t understand and didn’t want to analyse. She only knew that the sooner she could put a lid on this inner turmoil she felt whenever he so much as looked at her, the better.

To him she might only be the vessel that carried his child, and a convenient solution to a problem that threatened the Principality, but there was no way she could consider marriage to a man like Rafe—a prince—in such clinical terms. And yet if she was going to have to go through with this, she needed to be able to.

A strange fear zipped up her spine. The fact she was even considering marrying Rafe—when had that change in her thinking taken place? And more importantly, why? It was anathema to her—marrying for the sake of a child—and yet she was entertaining the idea as if it were a done deal. Last night again she’d thought about getting help. Why shouldn’t she call the Embassy, and who cared if the calls were monitored? By the time they discovered who she was calling, help could be on its way, and to hell with the fall out. He had no right to keep her here against her will.

And again she’d shut herself in the library, meaning to call, fully intending to. But she’d only got as far as lifting the receiver. Only pressed it to her ear, before the fingers of her other hand had cut the connection, and she’d slammed the receiver down in frustration.

What was happening to her?

Three days she’d been on the island now. Yesterday had been filled with an endless parade of specialists, nutritionists and exercise gurus, and she’d met Carmelina, the dark-haired young beauty who was to ‘manage’ her new wardrobe, and lay out whatever outfits she’d need in readiness for the day’s and evening’s activities. When she’d protested that she’d successfully managed her wardrobe by herself for the best part of twenty years, Rafe had reminded her that soon she would be a princess, dressing for all manner of events, formal and informal, and that she could not be expected to manage a wardrobe the size of a department store.

And when a fashion consultant arrived, bringing along an entire boutique and three assistants with her and fitted Sienna out in an entire wardrobe in under two hours—and that was only the beginning, she’d assured her, planning on returning with designs made solely for her—Sienna finally believed him.

Today promised to be more of the same. Was it any wonder she felt numb from all the attention? Once yesterday’s obstetrician had confirmed her pregnancy, this juggernaut that was to be a royal wedding rolled and gained momentum with every minute.

And she was still only just coming to terms with her pregnancy. Once again this morning, she’d felt nauseous, though it was more a general queasiness this time that had assailed her, a queasiness that paled in comparison to the illness of those first days here. How much had stress and high emotions played a part in that—the fear of meeting Rafe again, her fury at being held against her will and the accusation that she’d kept her pregnancy secret from him—had this all combined to magnify the worst of her pregnancy symptoms tenfold?