Royal Babies: Claiming His Secret Royal Heir / Pregnant with a Royal Baby! / Secret Child, Royal Scandal

Sunita thought for a moment. ‘Goa.’ That would keep it all in perspective—her parents had spent some time in Goa; they’d been happy there, but that hadn’t led to a happily-ever-after in any sense.

‘OK. Here’s how it’ll work. I’ll have my people pick up Amil and your grandmother now, and bring them to the hotel. Once we make the announcement about Amil the press will converge. I want my son safe here, under royal security protection.’

She could feel the colour leech from her skin and saw that he had noticed it.

‘I don’t believe he is danger, but his position has changed. No matter what we decide, there will be more interest in him and his life from now on.’

She inhaled an audible breath. ‘You’re right. I’ll call my grandmother and prepare her.’

Pulling her phone out of her bag, she rose and walked to the opposite end of the room.

* * *

Frederick watched as Sunita paced the width of the room as she talked, her voice low but animated, one hand gesturing as the conversation progressed.

It was impossible not to admire her fluidity of movement, her vibrancy. At least she hadn’t blown the marriage idea out of the water. But he’d known she wouldn’t do that—for Amil she had to consider it. What woman would deprive her son of a crown? Yet unease still tingled in his veins. Sunita might well be the one woman who would do exactly that.

Ironic, really—his chief advisor had a list of women who wanted to marry him, and he’d proposed to the one woman who didn’t even want to audition for the part of bride.

No matter—he would convince her that this was the way forward. Whatever it took.

His conscience jabbed him. Really? Whatever it took? Maybe that was how his father had justified the custody battles.

Abruptly he turned away and, pulling his own phone out, set to work making arrangements.

He dropped his phone back in his pocket as she returned to the table. ‘How did your grandmother take it?’

‘With her trademark unflappable serenity. I think she suspected—she may even have recognised you earlier and put two and two together. She’ll have Amil ready.’ Her chin jutted out at a defiant angle. ‘I’ve asked Sam and Miranda as well.’

She really didn’t trust him. ‘Do you really think I will take Amil from you by force?’

Silence greeted this and he exhaled heavily.

‘If you can’t trust my morality then at least trust my intelligence. I want you to marry me—kidnapping Amil would hardly help my cause. Or garner me positive publicity in Lycander. You hid Amil from me for two years. I have more reason to distrust you than vice versa.’

‘Maybe it’s best if neither of us trusts each other.’

She had a point.

‘Works for me. Whilst we are away Amil will be in your grandmother’s charge, with Sam and Miranda as your back-up. But they remain based in the hotel, and if they go anywhere one of my staff goes with them. Does that work for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Once they are safely here I’ll announce it to the press. We’ll leave for Goa tomorrow, after my visit to the school.’

‘Whoa! Hold on.’ One elegant hand rose in the air to stop him. ‘This is a joint operation. So, first off, I want to make the announcement. And we are not mentioning marriage.’

She drummed her fingers on the table and he could see her mind whir. This had always been her forte—she’d used to play the press like a finely tuned instrument, and had always orchestrated publicity for maximum impact with impeccable timing.

‘Prince Frederick and I are delighted to announce that fourteen months ago our son Amil was born. Obviously we have a great deal to discuss about the future, which we will be doing over the next few days. My press office will be in touch with details of a photo opportunity with the three of us tomorrow.’

‘Photo opportunity?’ Three of us...? The words filled him with equal parts terror and anticipation.

‘Yes. Better to arrange it than have them stalk us to try and get one. And I assume you want to spend time with Amil before we go?’ She clocked his hesitation before he could mask it. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No.’ Liar.

Her eyes filled with doubt. He racked his brain and realised that in this case only the truth would suffice.

‘I don’t want to upset Amil or confuse him just before you leave him.’

He didn’t want his son to believe on any level that it was his father’s fault that he was losing his mother. Even for a few days.

For the first time since his proposal she smiled—a real, genuine smile—and he blinked at the warmth it conveyed. If he were fanciful, he’d swear it had heated his skin and his soul.

‘You won’t upset him. Truly. How about we take him to the Hanging Gardens? He loves it there—the press can take their photos and then we can take him for a walk.’

‘Sounds great.’

But the warmth dissipated and left a cold sheen of panic in its wake. What if the meeting didn’t go well? What if they couldn’t connect?

Then he’d fake it. If he could close his emotions down—and he was a past master in the art—then surely the reverse would be true too. ‘My school visit is planned for seven a.m., so if we schedule the press for midday that should work.’

‘I’d like to come with you to the school. It’s a cause I’d love to be involved in, and now...now I can.’

Her smile broadened and it occurred to him that, whilst he couldn’t condone what she had done, hiding Amil had impacted on Sunita’s life heavily. She’d lost her career, had to subdue her identity and become anonymous.

Sheesh. Get a grip. Any minute now he’d start to feel sorry for her.

The point now was that Sunita would be an asset to the charity.

His phone beeped and he read the message.

‘Amil and your grandmother are in the hotel. So are Sam and Miranda. So let’s go and face the press.’

And then he’d face the music. He had no doubt his chief advisor had set up a veritable orchestra.

CHAPTER SIX (#u60fd3b44-9a7b-54ef-b1a8-0befae42f13e)

‘YOU’VE DONE WHAT?’ Marcus Alrikson, hot off a private jet, scooted across the floor of the hotel suite. ‘The whole existence of a secret baby is bad enough—but now you’re telling me you have proposed marriage!’ Marcus paused, pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. ‘Why?’

Frederick surveyed him from the depths of the leather sofa. ‘Because I have a son, and I want my son to live with me and his mother. I realise that flies in the face of Lycander tradition, but there you have it. I want Amil to inherit his birthright. The only way to achieve both those goals is marriage.’

‘If this marriage loses you the crown he won’t have a birthright to inherit.’

‘It won’t.’ Frederick imbued his voice with a certainty he was far from feeling—but he was damned if he would admit that to Marcus. ‘This is the right thing to do and the people of Lycander will see that.’

‘Perhaps...but that doesn’t mean they will accept Sunita or Amil.’