Lani’s stomach clenched. “It’s been fifty-two days so far. Your mom is keeping count on an abacus.” This also meant she was fifty-two days into her pregnancy—soon she’d really start to show.
AJ shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why, but I never thought I’d be in this position.” He turned to face her, squinting against the bright sun. “I’d left Rahiri behind, a collection of memories and familiar faces that I’d visit from time to time but never actually return to.” He blew out hard. “I don’t fit here anymore.”
Lani swallowed. “You have your own life. I understand that.” Though she was certain his mother and the island elders wouldn’t sympathize too readily. He was in a tough spot. At least she had the good luck of having absolutely no choice whatsoever. Her fate was tied to the royal dynasty, no matter what. “Only you can decide what to do.”
“How can I simply decide to marry my brother’s wife?” He finally put the two jugs—still empty—down in the sand and strode toward her. He picked up her hands and held them. “How can I take a woman I’ve barely met, and pledge my life to her?” He looked down at her hands, tiny in his. Already heat snapped between them in the warm morning air. AJ stiffened, perhaps also feeling the unsettling power. “I don’t know you.”
“Does anyone ever really know anyone else?” The cryptic reply rose to her lips. Her body shivered slightly. The proximity to his powerful chest seemed to stir something inside her.
“Perhaps not. We’re all works in progress, after all. Maybe lives can be cast, like a film, and then we take up our roles and see what we can make of them.” His dark eyes fixed on hers in a penetrating stare. “Do you think so, Lani?”
There was an edge to his voice that tightened the tension snapping through her. “Some would say you were cast in the role of royal son the day you were born.” That answer would be approved by her mother-in-law.
She wanted so badly not to say the wrong thing, to ruin everything for the family and for Rahiri. If it was her fate to marry a strange man who didn’t want her, then so be it. She could put up with almost anything after her years with Vanu. At least AJ seemed warm and kind.
And he was very handsome. Sun shone on the stern planes of his face as he looked down at her, confusion roiling in his narrowed eyes. His hands still held hers, tight, and heat was building between their entwined fingertips.
Lani tried to root herself firmly in the soft sand, to stay grounded no matter what might happen. Would he try to kiss her again? This time she must accept the kiss. That’s what everyone would want. Her lips pulsed in anticipation and heat bloomed deep in her belly.
AJ’s mouth, however, was set in a hard line, his brow furrowed. He dropped her hands and pulled back, then wiped his palms on his khaki pants. Lani’s arms fell to her sides, fingertips prickling at their sudden abandonment.
Relief trickled through her, along with the ever-present guilt and a thickening fear of what the future held for all of them.
“You know what? I think we should pick some flowers for the party,” AJ said gruffly. “At least we can manage not to disappoint my mom on that score.”
“Of course.” She tried to sound crisp and sensible. “I know a grove where we can fill both jugs without damaging the growing plants. Follow me.” She marched past him up the sand, then wondered if it was appropriate to command a royal son—a future king, perhaps—to follow her. Life was so confusing once you became entangled with centuries of tradition and expectation. A foolish girl, she’d had no idea what she was getting into. What she was getting her future children into.
She heard AJ’s steady footfalls behind her. He was too confident, too at home with himself to get upset by following a woman. What a refreshing change from Vanu, who would have spent the whole day needling her with the error of her ways. And AJ’s solid presence behind her was reassuring. Since Vanu disappeared she’d become afraid of being alone out here in the jungle. What if he suddenly reappeared, crueler than ever, to take his revenge on her for being happy that he’d vanished?
What would AJ think about that? That she was happy his brother was dead. Yet another secret she had to carry with her to the grave. The burden made her heavy on her feet.
Her hand had strayed to her belly again and she jerked it away. “Not much farther.” If only she could tell him about the baby. If he knew all the facts, they could really talk, and come to some decisions together. But it was her duty—her royal obligation—to remain silent.
They reached a shady grove where lush white lilies clustered around the trunks of trees. “We can cut these. They only bloom for a few days, and they reproduce like crazy.” She pulled the small shears from her pocket and cut a clump of stems. The full, pale blooms looked suddenly bereft, severed from their roots. She shoved them quickly into AJ’s offered jug.
“Lucky flowers to live such a carefree existence. And now they get to attend one of Mom’s royal balls.” His warm grin evaporated some of the gloom that had settled over her. “At least the party will keep her busy for a few days so she won’t be too sad.”
“She does love organizing things.” Lani smiled. “And she’s never happier than when surrounded by a thousand of her closest friends.”
“And I guess you and I can plaster smiles on our faces for an evening. Though you can imagine what they’ll all be thinking.”
Lani bit her lip. “Yes. I think I can.”
“They’ll be whispering—so, is that film-director son going to marry the widow?” He spoke in a funny, Rahiian busybody voice that made Lani laugh, despite the ball of dread that had settled firmly at the bottom of her stomach.
“They will. Most likely they’ll assume it, since you’re still here.”
“We could walk around scowling at each other, just to make things exciting and keep them guessing.” He shot her a wry smile.
Lani managed to smile back. They had every reason to keep guessing. She certainly was. Would AJ agree to marry her? Would he believe her “premature baby” was really his? Or would he take off back to L.A., leaving her to raise her child by herself?
Or was there another outcome, perhaps harsher than she could even imagine, that had not yet presented itself?
Violin music hummed over the murmur of a thousand conversations as the ballroom filled to capacity with Priia’s invited guests. Sweat prickled inside AJ’s stiff collar. He wore a starched black tunic and matching pants, a funerary version of Rahiian party attire. The sleek getup would look downright hip on the streets of Beverley Hills, but the traditional garb made him itch as if he’d stepped into someone else’s skin.
“Arun!” He startled at the sound of his given name—no one ever used it—and glanced up to see a white-haired man approaching. AJ immediately recognized his father’s oldest friend. Despite his stiffened gait and wrinkled visage, the old man’s eyes twinkled as brightly as ever as he gripped AJ in a fierce embrace. “It’s so good to see you back home again. Your return brings both tears and smiles to all our eyes.”
AJ swallowed. “It’s good to be back.” The lie scorched his tongue and he took a quick swig of punch. “How are you these days, sir?”
“Sir? Sir!” The tanned face creased into a million lines. “What way is that for our new king to address one of his subjects. You should call me Niuu like all these other overdressed fools.”