The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses: Expecting His Royal Baby / The Prince's Forbidden Virgin. Robyn Donald
find any shops—’
‘There are plenty of shops.’
But none she could afford, Carrie thought, not wanting to say as much to Nico. She didn’t want to give him the impression that she was hard up, or a hard-luck case.
He looked at her thoughtfully, as if he knew she couldn’t afford anything from the shops in Niroli, and maybe even admired her a little for keeping silent.
She hoped that was what had brought the softening to his lips. ‘I should have known I can’t wear flip-flops; they always hurt my feet.’
‘If you knew—’ He stopped as if he didn’t want to start an argument and started storming through the cupboards instead. ‘There should be antiseptic cream in here somewhere….’
He insisted on drying her feet on a fluffy white towel, which he rested on his knees. And when he put the cream on he did so very gently.
She had to brace herself. She had to tense every muscle so she didn’t show him how that made her feel, but even so her eyes filled with tears.
‘It isn’t that bad, is it?’ Nico said, straightening up to look at her.
Worse than he knew. ‘No, fine,’ she assured him.
And then he did the one thing she dreaded most. Reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a wad of notes. ‘You really must get yourself some decent shoes, Carrie.’
She could only stare in horror at the money.
‘Here, take it,’ he pressed.
‘I don’t want it …’ She couldn’t stop staring at it.
‘Don’t be so silly,’ he insisted. ‘You used to work for me. Let’s call it severance pay, if that makes you feel better.’
‘Let’s not …’ Firming her lips, she slipped down from the seat. ‘Will you show me out, or shall I find someone else to do it?’
He moved in front of the door to block her way. ‘What’s wrong with you, Carrie? You never used to be like this—’
‘You mean I used to be a pushover?’
‘No, I don’t mean that, and you know it—’
‘Do I, Nico?’ She was conscious that the mood had disintegrated into acrimony. How could she tell him about their baby now? She was determined to choose the right moment, and this wasn’t it. ‘Thank you for bathing my feet.’ She glanced at the door.
‘You’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re here.’
‘Then we’re going to be here a very long time.’
‘I need an answer, Carrie.’
‘Aren’t you going to be late for the princess?’
‘She can wait.’
Nico’s attitude surprised her. It suggested he was in no hurry to see Anastasia. Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?
He glanced at his watch again. ‘We’ll have to make another appointment. I can’t do this now.’
Carrie’s cheeks blazed red. No doubt a regular meeting while she was on the island would be convenient for Nico.
‘You want something from me,’ he said, fixing her with a firm stare, ‘and I’m going to find out what it is.’
‘Yes, I do want something,’ Carrie admitted, ‘but it’s not what you think—’
‘All right, I’ll make time. We’ll discuss it now.’
‘And make you late for the state banquet?’
‘Like the princess, that can wait.’
CHAPTER FIVE
CLOSING the door to his private apartment, Nico watched as Carrie took in her surroundings. She had liked it the first time, and now she wanted to have a closer look at things. Many of the pieces he kept in Niroli belonged in a museum, but he had grown up with them. That was the trouble with extreme wealth—you took everything for granted—and he hardly noticed the trappings now. But seeing the room through Carrie’s eyes made him appreciate things he’d hardly noticed before.
She was impressed, though not by the value of his possessions, she was genuinely interested. He watched her dip her head to examine a jade ornament more closely.
‘Do you like it?’ She was trailing her forefinger across the back of a Ming-dynasty horse. It was priceless, but, of course, she couldn’t know that. It had a finely carved saddle with elaborate fringing, and was an outstanding example of some ancient artisan’s skill. There was no chance he could give it to her, but he’d seen pictures of it in the palace gift store. ‘I’m sure we can find you a postcard in the shop.’
The look she gave him was pure ice. A postcard in exchange for sex—was that what she thought? He brought the shutters down. He couldn’t risk antagonising her until he found out what she was doing in Niroli.
She didn’t want a trip to the gift shop as a reward for being a good girl, and she felt like telling Nico to get over himself. She wanted to tell him that his fabulous wealth would pale in the face of her news, but when he eased his collar and moved restlessly she knew he was uncomfortable in a room with overdressed windows and silk-draped walls, and felt some sympathy for him. Her first impression of the décor had been good, but on closer inspection Carrie thought it cloying and could see why it wouldn’t suit Nico. The palace might be his family home, but Nico was a free spirit. Niroli was too small an island to contain him, and his decision to leave the country as a youth to make his way in London was certainly no mystery to her now. She was beginning to understand him, which gave her courage. ‘This isn’t easy for me, Nico.’
‘Try me,’ he prompted.
‘When I left the office, I had no idea that …’ He nodded encouragement. ‘I had no idea that I was pregnant.’
‘What?’
He sounded and looked incredulous. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said again, telling him the news in a soft, happy voice. The idea was still new to her, still surrounded by its own little aura of light.
It took her a moment to realise how quiet the room had become, and then Nico said evenly, ‘What’s that got to do with me?’
Her tongue froze, and at the very moment when she should have been at her most eloquent she saw his mouth begin to curve with contempt. ‘E-everything,’ she managed to stutter, feeling in that moment as if she had been sucked into outer space where there was no warmth, no air, no comfort for her anywhere.
‘What do you mean, Carrie? “Everything?”’
‘I mean, you’re the father of my baby, Nico—’
‘What?’ he exploded. His voice had gone instantly cold and, shaking his head, he turned away.
‘Nico, I swear—’
‘You swear?’ He turned back, head down, eyes full of a terrifying emotion she’d never seen before. She reached out to him, but he pulled away.
She was a liar. Carrie was a liar. She had reminded him in the cruellest way possible that he was infertile and could never have the family he longed for. Emotion swirled inside him, threatening to erupt. It escaped in words, harsh, ugly words: ‘I’m not the father of your baby, Carrie.’
He wasn’t prepared for the pain he felt saying that—the pain of knowing the child she carried couldn’t be his. It was unbearable, excruciating; he couldn’t bear to think of her with some other man. ‘We had sex,’ he said cruelly, instinct driving him to hurt as much as she had hurt him. ‘We had sex, and that was all—’
‘It wasn’t just sex to me, Nico.’
How