Guilt snaked through her. She shouldn’t think such thoughts about the dead. It was bad luck, if nothing else.
She crept into the small private changing room where she kept her personal items. Buried among the tampons she knew no one would disturb was a prize she’d gone to great lengths to obtain.
She held her breath as she fished inside the box and felt for the packet. Her fingers stung with fear as they rested on its plastic cover. She glanced over her shoulder before she pulled it out, then she ripped open the packet and reached for the printed instructions inside.
Another wave of nausea blurred her eyes and made her clutch at the nearby wall, fingernails scraping on the hard, carved stone. Then she drew a deep breath. Better get it over with.
Hold stick in stream of urine. Place on level surface for thirty seconds. Plus sign indicates a positive result. Minus sign indicates a negative result, she read from the package.
Stomach clenched and hands shaking, she followed the instructions, then paced the large bathroom while she waited for the results. How odd that she’d wanted a child so much when they first married. Dreamed of holding her son or daughter in her arms and lavishing him or her with kisses and smiles.
Then when Vanu had revealed himself to be heartless, soulless, she’d prayed to remain empty so no child would have to grow up with a father like him.
It was easy; Vanu rarely touched her. If anything, he seemed repulsed by her body, by her very femininity. They hadn’t been intimate for at least two years until that last night, when she’d told him exactly what she thought of him, and he’d taken her by force.
Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. The pink stick must have revealed its answer by now, but she didn’t dare look. If the result was negative, then she’d done her duty as a royal wife and could maybe even slide back into the realm of ordinary people. If not, she could be the mother of a future king, a duty that would bind her for the rest of her life.
At first it hadn’t occurred to her that she could be pregnant. Vanu had taken to berating her for her infertility and inability to produce an heir. He took pleasure in taunting her with this, even when conception was technically impossible because they never had sex. She’d almost started to believe his lies.
When he went missing she suffered bouts of sickness. At first she’d assumed them to be guilt-related. If she hadn’t confronted him, he wouldn’t have stalked off into the night. She’d told no one she was responsible for his disappearance.
As the weeks went on, her illness had been accompanied by other disturbing symptoms—moodiness, sensitive nipples and a slight thickening at her waist. No one else had noticed, but she could no longer pass these things off as “guilt” and she knew for sure they weren’t from grief, as others might have suspected.
She grabbed the stick and pulled it close, willing herself to be strong. A tiny pink cross filled the circle on the handle.
She was pregnant—with Vanu’s child.
She sank against the wall, breath coming in shallow gasps. What now?
A loud knock on the door made her jump. She shoved the stick into a pile of towels and rubbed the tear tracks from her eyes. “Who is it?”
“AJ.” His gruff voice penetrated the heavy wood.
“I’m, er, unwell.”
“I know. That’s why I came.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Let me in. Please. Just for a moment.”
Lani hesitated. AJ might be a hard-partying Hollywood director, but he was also next in line to the Rahiian throne. She couldn’t ignore him.
She glanced in the mirror and attempted to compose the stricken face that greeted her. She slapped her cheeks to bring back some color, tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear then hurried to the door.
AJ tapped his foot on the polished stone tile outside the door. Lani probably didn’t want visitors if she wasn’t feeling well, especially him. Bad enough that he was supposedly her unwilling future husband, but the events of earlier made the situation even more awkward. If she’d slapped his face and told him to get lost, everything would be going smoothly, but now.
Still, he needed to see her or he’d never sleep tonight.
The door creaked open, revealing a tiny sliver of Lani’s famously beautiful face.
“Have you been crying?” The question burst from his lips. She shook her head, lips pressed together. “You’re allowed to, you know. You are recently widowed.”
“I know.” Already fresh tears sprang up behind her dark lashes. “Sorry, it’s just been such a busy week with all the ceremonies.”
“You must be exhausted.” Though that didn’t explain the kiss. “I came to apologize for kissing you out of the blue like that.” He straightened his shoulders. Funny, he hadn’t come here to apologize, but the sight of her lovely face stained with tears had an uncomfortable effect on him. Even now, she was breathtaking, her long, golden brown hair streaming behind her shoulders and her lips soft and pink.
He cursed his physical reaction. Was this any way to behave with a grieving widow, even if you were supposed to marry her?
“I appreciate the apology.” She almost whispered it. “I know that technically you have nothing to apologize for, since I’m supposed to marry you, but it took me by surprise.”
“Took me by surprise, too.” A smile tried to spread across his lips but he fought it back. “I wasn’t expecting such an enthusiastic response.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve been through a lot lately. Too many emotions…” She trailed off, dropping her lashes to cover her eyes.
“And there I was taking it personally.” He reached out and touched her arm, which wasn’t easy since the door was barely open a foot. “Listen, no hard feelings. I meant what I said about leaving, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to jump into Vanu’s bed. I think I actually wanted to get you angry at me. I regret that.”
“No hard feelings.”
“You really are a sweet Rahiian maiden.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” She glanced up at him, and for a second he thought he saw a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Desire snapped through him and he fought a sudden urge to lean in and kiss her again.
“Are you sick?” He struggled to remember the reason he’d supposedly come here. Maybe he’d unwittingly hoped for another intoxicating kiss.
“Not really.” An odd expression flashed across her features—panic, almost. She glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting something frightening in the corridor. “I’ll be fine. I should get some sleep.” She grasped the door with her fingers, ready to close it.
“Would you like something from the kitchens?” He wasn’t ready to leave yet.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I ate most of the meal.”
“A glass of wine, or something to help you unwind?”
Her eyes widened. “No, thanks.”
“Do you want to talk? I know it’s rough sometimes being a member of the royal family. You have to be on your best behavior all the time and can’t let your hair down.” He glanced at her impressive tresses. “And you have a lot of hair.”
For a second she looked like she might smile—or even invite him in—then she glanced over his shoulder again.
This