He swallowed hard and looked away, turning toward his desk, so she might not notice how aroused he was becoming. “You mentioned an ultrasound. Do you know the time and date, so I can mark it on my calendar?”
She rattled off the information and he slid into his chair behind the safety of his desk and made himself a note.
“Maybe we could have dinner this Friday,” she said, then added quickly, “A platonic dinner, of course. So we can discuss how we plan to handle things. Like the press and custody.”
That would give him three days to think this through and process it all. He always preferred to have a solid and well-considered plan of action before he entered into negotiations of any kind.
However, he wasn’t sure he was ready to be thrown in the mix with her family just yet. Not that he didn’t feel as though he could hold his own. He just felt these matters were private, between himself and Anne, and in no way concerned her family.
“How about we eat at my place,” he said. “Seven o’clock?”
“If you don’t mind your residence being swarmed with security. We’re still on high alert.”
He frowned. “Is the royal family still being harassed?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
All he knew of the situation was what he’d read in the papers. “So it’s serious,” he said.
“More than anyone realizes, I’m afraid. There have been threats of violence against the family. I should probably warn you that once we’re linked together, you could become a target, as well.”
He shrugged. “I’m not worried. As far as the baby goes, I’m assuming that until you’ve told your father, there will be no announcement to the press.”
“Of course not.”
“I do intend to tell my family, but they can be trusted to keep it quiet.”
“Of course you should tell them. Do you think they’ll be upset?”
Her look of vulnerability surprised him. He didn’t think she was afraid of anything. Or cared what anyone thought of her. But hadn’t he learned that night at the ball that she wasn’t nearly as tough as she liked people to believe? “I think they’ll be surprised, but happy,” he told her.
He just hoped it was true.
Sam stopped in to see his parents that evening to break the news. When he arrived they had just finished supper and were relaxing out on the veranda with snifters of brandy, watching the sun set. Despite his father’s career in politics, and his mother’s touring as an operatic vocalist, they always made time for each other. After forty years they were still happily married and going strong.
That was the sort of marriage Sam had always imagined for himself. He had just never met a woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with. Until Anne, he admitted grudgingly. How ironic that when he finally found her, he couldn’t have her.
He wasn’t quite sure how they would react to learning that they would be grandparents to the next prince or princess of Thomas Isle, but under the circumstances, they took it pretty well. Probably in part because they had been vying for grandchildren for some time and Sam’s older brother, Adam, had yet to deliver.
“I’m sure I’m going to sound old-fashioned,” his mother said, “but ideally we would like to see you married.”
“Mother—”
“However,” she continued. “We understand that you need to do what you feel is right.”
“If I married Anne, I would be considered a royal and I would never be prime minister. That isn’t a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Of course, with that in mind, he shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place, should he? He suspected that was what his mother was thinking.
“You would be giving your child a name,” his father pointed out.
“I don’t need to be married to do that. He had my name the moment he was conceived.”
“He?” his mother asked, brows raised.
“Or she.”
“Will you find out?”
“I’d like to. And I think Anne would, too. She has an ultrasound in four weeks.”
“Maybe I could invite her for tea,” she suggested, and at Sam’s wary look added, “I should be allowed to get to know the mother of my future grandchild.”
She was right. And he was sure Anne would be happy to oblige her. Didn’t pregnant women love to talk about their condition with other women? Especially the grandparents? “I’ll mention it to her.”
“You know that this is going to be complicated,” his father said. “They think differently than we do.”
“They?”
“Royals.”
“Not so different as you might expect,” Sam said. “Not Anne, anyway. She’s actually quite down-to-earth.”
“I’ve only spoken briefly with the princess,” his mother said. “But she seemed lovely.”
There was a “however” hanging there, and Sam knew exactly what she was thinking. What they were both thinking. He couldn’t deny he’d thought the same thing before his night with Anne. “I know you’ve probably heard things about her. Unfavorable things. But she isn’t at all what you would expect. She’s intelligent and engaging.” And fantastic in bed …
“It sounds as if you’re quite taken with her,” his mother not-so-subtly hinted.
He was. Probably too much for his own good. He just hoped that once Anne began to look more pregnant, and especially after the baby was born, it would be easier for him to see her only as the mother of his child and not a sexual being.
“I have every hope that Anne and I can be good friends, for the child’s sake, but that is as far as it will ever go.”
He knew they were disappointed. This wasn’t the sort of scenario his parents had envisioned for him, and honestly neither had he. He had assumed that it would have been like it had been for them. He would meet a woman and they would date for a reasonable period of time, then marry and have a family. Sam would eventually become prime minister, and his wife would have a rewarding and lucrative career that still allowed her time to put her family first.
So much for that plan.
“As long as you’re happy, we’re happy,” his mother said.
Sam hoped she really meant it. Even though they gave no indication that Sam was disappointing them, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d let them down. That he had let himself down.
Even worse, was he letting his child down?
What had happened was an accident, but ultimately the person who would pay for it would be the baby. The baby would be the one relentlessly dogged by the press. And being a royal, the stigma of illegitimacy could potentially follow him or her for life. Was it fair to put the baby through that for his own selfish needs?
It was certainly something to consider.
He had just arrived home later that evening when he got a call on his cell phone from Prince Christian’s assistant, with a message from the prince. It was odd enough that she would call at almost 10:00 p.m., but how had the prince gotten his private cell number? The prince’s calls typically went through Sam’s office line.
Silly question. As acting king, he probably