Shock Heir For The Crown Prince

He pressed his lips to her temple and then hesitated before lifting her chin and pressing a kiss to the edge of her lips. His lips were soft and warm and so gentle, and if Ana’s eyes fluttered closed and she suddenly wanted this moment to last for ever it was only because all else seemed so harsh.

‘I don’t want to lose any more,’ she whispered, and he pulled away and drew a breath more ragged than hers.

‘Neither do I. Believe me, neither do I.’ Slowly, almost reluctantly, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, and maybe it was because he was the one familiar thing in a world that was cold and dark, and maybe her soul would always cry out for his touch no matter what.

‘I wanted to help you get settled. I wanted to show you my home, and I will but not tonight. My father is on his deathbed and I’ve been called to his side. That’s what all the phone calls were about—that’s where I’m going. And that is no place for a child.’ He put his fingers to her chin and tilted her head until she met his gaze. ‘We do take care of our young around here, no matter what you might think. Get Silas to show you the puppies. They’re real. It’s all real.’

‘For you,’ she said, and he smiled wryly.

‘For all of us.’

* * *

Ana watched him leave in the helicopter, a fading red light in the bleak night sky, and only once the tail light had disappeared did she realise how cold it was and how heavy six-year-old girls could be. She took a deep breath and felt Sophia’s arms tighten around her neck.

‘Maman?’

‘Hush, baby. Everything’s okay. We’ll find ourselves another bed soon.’

‘Indeed you will,’ said the bearded man, bowing slightly. ‘Ms Douglas, would you like me to carry the child?’

‘No.’

He bowed again. ‘Then please let me lead the way to your rooms.’

‘Thank you.’ She too could be courteous. And it had been one hell of a long evening.

The bedroom suite he took them to was truly fit for a queen. Silk wallpaper adorned the walls. Heavy brocade gold covers graced the bed and Ana wondered whether a body would suffocate beneath the weight of them.

His mother’s rooms, he’d said.

The one who’d lost her daughter and committed suicide.

She put Sophia down and fingered the heavy coverlet while the bearded man, Silas, looked on in silence. The floor was a pale grey stone and the ceiling soared high above them. An open fire crackled in the hearth and uniformly shaped logs had been stacked beside it.

There was a breakfast room, a dressing room, a bathroom suite and a nursery, all of it too vast and imposing to contemplate. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stood there, barely holding it together. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to imagine the comfort and familiarity of her snug apartment, but it was no use. She was thousands of miles away and drowning in uncertainty.

Casimir had come for them with conviction in his eyes and promises to protect her on his lips and she’d trusted him to do right by her.

When had he ever done that?

Opening her eyes, she faced her fear as two other people she didn’t know brought her and Sophia’s luggage into the room and began to open it.

‘Leave it,’ she snapped.

Her five-minute packing effort; her mess to sort. Their bad luck to be waiting on a woman who didn’t want any of this.

The fortress staff withdrew without a word, all except for Silas, who seemed as immovable as the stone beneath her feet. ‘We’ve been warming the suite for two days,’ he said. ‘I regret that we’re not quite ready for visitors but you came as quite a surprise. The chill should be off these rooms by tomorrow and then we can make lighter bedcovers available.’

Castle-warming. Attempting a smile at this point would only bring tears. ‘Thank you.’

‘What time would you like breakfast?’

‘What time is it?’ She’d lost track of time, not to mention time zones.

‘A little after two a.m., Ms Douglas.’

Right.

‘Or you can pick up the phone when you wake, dial one, and let us know when you would like to breakfast.’

She nodded. ‘I’d like to ring my parents and let them know where we are. Can I do that from this phone?’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Dial zero, then the country code, then the number. It will dial straight out.’

‘Thanks.’ Not a prisoner then. Not quite. ‘I’ll do that tonight.’ Wake them up. Have a conversation with her parents that she’d been avoiding for almost seven years.

‘Of course,’ he said again. He turned to Sophia, bowed slightly and left.

Ana waited until the door had closed and they were alone before looking to Sophia. Her daughter’s gaze slid towards the nursery room door, her face a study in uncertainty.

‘So this is Casimir’s castle,’ Ana began.

Sophia nodded.

‘Big, isn’t it?’

Sophia nodded again.

‘It’ll be better in the morning when we can see it properly. You want to sleep with me tonight?’

A more vigorous nod.

‘I can tell you a story before we go to sleep.’

‘A story about a princess trapped in a castle and a dragon who comes to save her?’ Sophia asked.

‘Sure.’ They both knew that particular story well. Where were their pyjamas? She hadn’t packed winter ones. Why hadn’t she packed winter clothes for them?

‘Can there be a donkey and a dying king?’

‘Yes,’ Ana said, still rifling through their suitcases. She knew that story too.

‘That man—Cas—he said his father was dying.’

‘Yes.’

‘And then he kissed you.’