“You’re worried, aren’t you? Scared.” Priia took Lani in her soft arms. Her expensive scent enveloped her for a moment. “I know it’s not easy having a baby when you’re a widow. The child reminds you of the man you’ve lost.”
Lani looked down. Her words were painfully true.
“But look on it as a wonderful chance to let him live again through his child.”
Please, no! Lani blinked rapidly, trying to keep her emotions in check.
Priia pressed a finger to her lips. “Though this does rather complicate things with AJ. It’s not easy for a man to raise another man’s child, even if it is his brother’s.”
“I don’t think AJ wants to marry me.” Lani said the words quickly.
“Don’t take it personally. He’s just gotten off track with this Hollywood business. He’ll realize that his duty lies with us in Rahiri.” Her mother-in-law’s face grew serious. “Oh, my goodness.”
“What?” Lani’s chest grew tight at the look of alarm in Priia’s dark eyes.
“According to our laws of succession, the baby is next in line to the throne.” She stared at Lani, her face growing pale.
Thoughts clicked into place. “So AJ doesn’t inherit the throne.”
“Not if Vanu has a child.” Priia bustled across the room and stared out the window toward the forest. Then she spun around. “Oh, I do so want AJ back home with us. He was so unsettled as a child, always jealous of Vanu and in a rush to get away. I’m sure things would be different now that he’s grown and matured. Now that my husband and oldest son are gone, it would warm my heart to have my youngest son here with us. And I do believe he’d be a very good husband to you.”
Lani remained silent. A stray memory of his lips on hers assaulted her and caused color to rise to her cheeks. She had no idea what kind of husband AJ would be, and she’d rather not find out—kiss or no kiss. Vanu was enough husband for one lifetime.
Priia’s expression hardened. “Don’t say anything. Don’t mention the baby.”
“To AJ?”
“To anyone.” She gripped Lani’s wrists. “Let no one find out until you’re safely married to AJ. Then they can think it’s his.”
Revulsion at the proposed deception coiled in Lani’s already queasy gut. “But I’m weeks along, almost two months.”
Priia loosened her grip and rubbed Lani’s arm—which didn’t feel all that soothing over the goose bumps that had formed there. “You can say it’s premature. We really do have small babies. Even big, strapping AJ was barely six pounds at birth. No one will ever find out.”
“You wouldn’t even tell AJ?”
“Why? Better to let him think the baby is his.” She tilted her head and looked right into Lani’s eyes. “Sometimes men are happier if we keep some secrets from them. It’s part of our work as women to keep the world running smoothly.”
Lani could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her back. “I don’t like deception. And what if AJ doesn’t want to marry me?”
Priia’s lips formed a tight smile. “He will.”
AJ’s plane left for L.A. at six o’clock the following morning. He was not on it.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” His mom’s expression alternated between tears and smiles. “You don’t know how much it means to me to have you here. I couldn’t survive the loss of one son if I didn’t have another.”
AJ didn’t really follow her logic—or like it one bit—but he nodded. Apparently he had no resistance to female pleading and weeping. Hopefully in a few days his mom would calm down and he could make his escape.
“Have some papaya, sweetheart.” She pushed a platter laden with the shiny golden fruit toward him.
His stomach recoiled. “I’m not hungry.” The bright sunlight flooding the breakfast room contrasted strongly with his mood. Lani picked at her own breakfast on the other side of the big, polished table. He kept his eyes firmly off her. She had a very unsettling effect on him, and he didn’t need any more crazy things happening. Getting a door slammed in his kisser was quite enough.
His mom clapped her hands together, bracelets jangling. “We’re going to plan a party.”
Lani’s head shot up. He sneaked a glance at her, and saw her eyes wide with alarm.
“Isn’t this an odd time for a party?” AJ leaned back in his chair. “Especially after all the funeral events. Lani’s probably exhausted.”
Lani didn’t meet his gaze, just stared at her teacup.
“I think it’s important to show people that this is not an end for the Rahias, it’s a new beginning.” His mom’s crisp smile had firmly replaced her tears.
A sense of foreboding hummed in AJ’s gut. He strongly suspected that he played a key role in that “new beginning.” “I really can’t stay long, Mom. I have script meetings for my new movie.”
“You could do them via teleconferencing. We have it set up in the throne room.”
“It’s not the same.” He didn’t want to go anywhere near the blasted throne room. There really was a throne in there—an impossibly ancient piece of volcanic rock carved with mysterious markings—and he had a nasty feeling he’d end up on top of it if he wasn’t careful.
“Of course it is. And Lani and I can be your assistants, can’t we dear?” She shone her megawatt smile on Lani.
Who gulped, visibly. “Oh yes. I do enjoy your films.” Her voice was as flat as her expression.
“What do you like better, the violence or the sex?”
“There isn’t really that much of either.” She tilted her elegant head and her long mane of brown hair swung in front of one shoulder. “What makes your movies so good is that you use suspense and anticipation to keep the audience on their toes. Teenage boys probably think they saw all that stuff when they leave the theater, but really you kept their hearts pounding by making them think it was going to happen, or had just happened. It’s very clever.”
AJ’s mouth hung open for a second. “You really have watched them.”
“That’s why we installed the theater, dear.” His mother patted her lips with a napkin.
Lani’s eyes sparkled. She was clearly delighted to defy his expectations. Her bright gaze sent a shimmer of—something straight to his core.
Great. Just what he needed.
“We’re your biggest fans.” His mother patted his hand. “And we’ll have the party this Saturday.”
“How can you plan it so quickly?”
She smiled. “Easy, dear. No one turns down an invitation to the palace, and we have the most talented and creative staff in the Pacific.”
“There is that.” AJ winked at her. “You really are something, Mom. If a party will make you feel better, you go ahead and have one.”
“You will be there.”
“I’ll be there.” He didn’t hide the sigh of resignation in his voice. How could you argue with your own grieving mother? “Just don’t ask me to make any speeches.”
“Why don’t you two go pick some flowers? We’ll use them to decorate the ballroom.”
AJ raised an eyebrow. A flower-picking expedition? Clearly his