The Prince's Pregnant Bride / Billionaire Baby Dilemma: The Prince's Pregnant Bride. Jennifer Lewis
Only the woman held that secret.
“Lani, are you okay?” Priia’s voice penetrated the thick fog of her thoughts. “Have some water.” She felt a glass pressed to her lips, and she struggled to swallow the cool fluid.
“I… I think so” was all she could manage. She brushed a droplet from her lips, glad that at least she’d managed not to cry. Alarm snapped through her as she saw AJ, climbing the stairs on the dais, moving toward her.
“Stand up, dear,” whispered her mother-in-law. She rose shakily to her feet, patting her dress and hoping its creases didn’t show any hint of a belly. Every eye in the room felt like a laser searchlight ready to reveal all her fears and misgivings—or were they hopes and dreams?
Majestic in his carriage and bearing, AJ stood in front of her and took her hand. Her fingers trembled in his and heat flushed over her. “Will you take me as your husband? “
Their eyes met—locked onto each other—as he asked the question. It wasn’t traditional to ask. He’d done that out of consideration for her.
Or had he? Since she could hardly say no, here amidst the gathered throng of royal admirers.
“I will.” Her voice sounded so quiet, so meek, even in the deadly hush of the ballroom. She wondered if AJ would smile, but he didn’t. His face, like hers, seemed frozen into a kind of noble mask. Two people acting out roles history had determined for them, and in which emotion and personal opinion played no role.
A cheer rose from the crowd, echoing off the high ceiling and bouncing around the room. Glasses lifted and people began to stamp their feet on the floor, a customary display of enthusiasm.
“Both of you, walk around the room.” Priia’s urgent whisper penetrated her consciousness.
AJ’s arm slipped inside Lani’s and drew her down the three stairs to the ballroom floor. The skin of her arm felt hot and feverish against the dark fabric of his jacket. She tried to keep her steps steady, and school her face into an expression of quiet happiness.
AJ’s arm felt rigid, tense. He marched with slow dignity, not his usual relaxed gait. No doubt becoming king would turn him into a different person—it already was. Would he become a hard, cold man like Vanu once the wedding vows were sealed?
Cold terror crept through her, tightening her muscles. The stamping feet and calling voices created a blanket of sound that seemed to suck the air from the room and leave her gasping. So much expectation, so many hopes and dreams, and the nation’s future hidden in the darkness of her own belly. The pressure weighed on her like a thundercloud and she felt her head becoming light. “I think I’m going to faint,” she managed, head tilted toward AJ’s powerful jaw.
Her rasped whisper was lost in the roar of the crowd. AJ marched on, oblivious, his face set in a grim smile. Perhaps he’d forgotten she was even there?
The faces started to swirl together, a hot mix of colors with flashes of blackness. Her ankles wobbled and the floor seemed to tilt. She dug her nails into his arm, looking for purchase, and he glanced down.
“I—I don’t feel well,” she stammered, blinking.
Alarm filled his eyes. “We’ll go outside for some air. There’s a door over here.” He led her past some tables of excited guests, to a side door. Before he left, he turned and bowed. “Please stay and enjoy yourselves.”
Seeing that he and Lani were about to leave the room together, the crowd went wild. Perhaps they assumed some kind of romantic action was about to take place. A wave of nausea rose in Lani’s throat at the thought that she’d soon be all alone with AJ.
Her future husband.
Outside the door, the cool night air hit her face like a welcome slap. She sucked in a breath and pulled her arm from AJ’s, then wondered if she was even allowed to do that.
The lamplight cast AJ’s face into shadow, and for a second he looked menacing, unreadable. She didn’t know this man but was expected to spend her life with him and sleep in his bed, whether she wanted to or not.
Panic flashed through her and spurred her feet into action. The corridor blurred as she found herself running headlong toward the garden. She didn’t know why she was running, only that she had to move—to act on the fierce instinct to flee that reverberated through her whole body.
“Lani, where are you going?” AJ’s voice rang after her, and sped her steps. She heard his heels on the stone, marching at first, then jogging along behind her.
Where am I going? The question echoed around her mind as she ran, sandals slapping on the smooth tiles.
There’s nowhere to go. The corridor led down to the manicured part of the garden, with a fishpond and perches for the wild birds that ornamented the trees. But its fringes descended into the thick, dense jungle that cloaked the island in its tight embrace. There was no escape.
The stone tiles gave way to grass, cool and damp in the evening dew. She ran a few steps, then felt a strong arm catch her around the waist, almost knocking the breath from her lungs. The baby! If he knew about it he’d never have grabbed her there. But he couldn’t know.
She wriggled, instinctively trying to free herself, but his grip was too strong. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her from behind. “Lani, stop running. We need to talk.” Her nerve endings snapped with the desire to run on, but she knew it was hopeless. “I know you’re scared but we’re in this together.”
His deep voice reverberated in her ear, oddly soothing. But she didn’t want to say anything. What else could she say but I’m pregnant. Yet she’d sworn to keep the baby a secret.
“I didn’t intend to spring the whole thing on you. It took me by surprise as well.” He turned her in his arms until she stood facing him, no longer pressed against him, but with a couple of inches of warm air between them.
She tried to ignore the strange sensations in her breasts and belly, the odd pulses of desire that only worsened the strange situation. “I thought you were going back to L.A.”
That’s what she’d hoped for, though she hadn’t dared admit it to herself until just now—when the possibility was gone.
He frowned, features angular in the cool moonlight. “I did, too.” He drew in a long breath. “But tonight, surrounded by all those people, the air thick with our island’s past and heavy with its future, I knew my place is here. I couldn’t shirk my responsibility and still live with myself.”
Lani nodded. Again that little kernel of pride throbbed inside her. AJ truly was a man of honor. “Rahiri is lucky to have you,” she managed. The words sounded hollow, empty. Shame he wasn’t so lucky to have her, a woman who intended to keep a huge thing secret from him for the rest of her life. If she told him, though, he wouldn’t be king. She’d break Priia’s already suffering heart and put the entire burden of the monarchy’s future on herself and her unborn baby. And she’d still be expected to marry again.
AJ’s frown deepened. “I’ll do my best to be a good husband to you.”
He softened his grasp on her arms. He’d been literally holding her in place—preventing her from running off again—and perhaps he realized the grip was at odds with his soothing words.
Lani wobbled slightly on her feet. “I’ll do my best to be a good wife.” Her words hung in the still night air, the lie echoing off tree trunks and winding itself around them like a vine.
How could she be a good wife if she deceived him about the paternity of the child he’d raise?
Lani’s golden eyes shone with anxiety—and why wouldn’t they? AJ’s chest tightened. This poor girl had no say in her own fate. Of course she could refuse him, but she was far too polite and kind for that. He could have offered to take the crown but refused to marry Lani, but for some reason he knew marrying her was the right thing to do.
Maybe it was that