A Mistake, A Prince and A Pregnancy

“No moat?” she asked facetiously as she gazed up at one massive turret that rose from the inner walls.

“No, the crocodiles could never discern between the intruders and the residents, so it made for a lousy security system. Now we just have a silent alarm like everyone else.”

His unexpected stab at humor brought a giggle to her lips. “No hot oil, then, either?”

“Only in the kitchen.” A small smirk teased the corner of his mouth and she noticed a small dimple that creased his cheek. Why couldn’t he stay austere and distant? It was easier to see him as the opposition when he was being an autocrat, much more difficult to do so when he actually seemed likable.

They came to a stop in front of the heavy double doors that were flanked, to her amusement, by formally dressed guards who didn’t look so different from the stone soldiers that stood at the gates.

He turned to face her, the full impact of his masculinity leaving her close to breathless. “After the doctor comes to perform the test, we will be having dinner with my parents so that I can introduce you to them.”

“Why would you need to introduce me?”

“Apart from the fact that you’re a guest, you are also the mother of my child, and their grandchild.”

Grandparents. He could even give her son or daughter grandparents, while she…well, her own father was heaven-knew-where and her mother was an extremely bitter woman who drank her issues away and forced everyone around her to listen to her vitriolic diatribes about life and men in general. Alison would never subject her child to that. She didn’t even subject herself to it unless absolutely necessary.

“This just gets more and more complicated.” She put her hand over her face and pressed hard on her eyes, trying to stop tears from overflowing. It was overwhelming in so many ways. Being pregnant, actually knowing she was having a baby, had been change enough, but to add all of this seemed impossible.

“They have every right to their grandchild, as I have every right to my child. Just as much right as you have, Alison. I will not allow you to deny my family this chance.”

Anger rolled through her, heating her blood, giving her strength. “By royal decree, is that it? Is this where the dungeon comes into play?”

“What is it with you and dungeons? Do you have some kind of weird fetish?”

“Just concerned I might end up on a twenty-four-hour cable news channel. American held captive by primitive prince,” she snapped. She pressed cool hands to her cheeks in an effort to release some of the heat that had mounted at his mention of fetishes. As if she would ever, ever, let a man tie her up so he could have his way with her.

Oddly, instead of the distaste she expected the thought to evoke, when she placed Maximo in the role of her captor, a sensual thrill tightened her stomach. Completely shocked by the direction of her usually sexless thoughts she turned her burning face away from Maximo and opened her own door, not waiting for any of the overeager staff who had appeared outside the palace, to assist her.