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‘Just because my circumstances aren’t as ideal or as rosy as yours, it doesn’t mean I’m going to you let you ride roughshod over the direction of my life.’
‘Mi linda, I hate to remind you again, but you slept with a crown prince three years ago and bore his son. The only direction your life is going to take now, if you wish to put him first, is to secure his birthright. And making that happen involves him transitioning entirely to his fatherland and taking his rightful place as first in line to the throne.’
‘First? Don’t you mean second?’
The flash of bleakness in his eyes was searing. ‘No. I don’t.’
The gravity of that response, words uttered with no further elaboration, washed over her, and then settled deep to weigh her down.
‘What’s the hurry? If he’s first in line surely he can have a normal li—?’
‘No,’ he interjected forcefully. ‘He was born extraordinary. The quicker you wrap your mind around that, the better. Besides…’ His voice dropped, and further dark shadows rushed over his face. ‘There’s little time to lose.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
For a moment his sensual lips remained pursed. Then, dragging his fingers through his hair in an aberrant show of agitation, he said, ‘It means that my father’s health is failing. He’s abdicating in a matter of months. It means that our son will soon become first in line to the throne. I’ve already missed more than two years of his life. No more, Eden. You and I will take him home and we will do the right thing. So he can, with minimal turmoil, take his rightful place in due course as the Cartanian Crown Prince.’
And because she knew that influential, powerful men like him created their own versions of right and wrong, she insisted on clarification.
‘What exactly does “the right thing” mean?’
‘The only way my son can rightfully inherit the throne when the time comes is for us to be married.’
CHAPTER FOUR
EDEN WAS GLADshe was sitting down when his hallucination-inducing words tunnelled into her brain. Her fingers dug into the plush velvet padding and she wondered whether she would pass out from the shock.
She concluded that would be impossible.
Because he couldn’t mean them.
‘I— What?’
Her babbled response fell in dizzying whispers. She blinked up at him, and part of her brain computed the ruthless determination on his face. The growing realisation that he was serious.
‘I— You’re crazy!’
Another flattening of his lips distracted her briefly, until he responded. ‘I assure you I am of perfectly sound mind.’
‘But… But I’m a w-waitress. With potholes in my memory. I can’t be your—your—’ She stopped. ‘Look, I think this has gone far enough!’ she snapped, her conviction that this was all some sort of elaborate game gaining momentum.
Her father had done enough of that, taunting both her and her mother from his lofty position. She would absolutelynottake it from this man.
The lethal blaze growing in his eyes quickly abated when Max, deciding he needed to include others in his joy, pulled himself upright and started towards her, holding out a colourful storybook.
But a few steps from her he glanced up at Azar—his father—and changed direction.
Azar scooped him up, with a glint of pleased satisfaction in his eyes. She watched father and son, attempting not to feel slighted by Max’s innocent betrayal.
After a moment granting his son his attention, Azar shifted his gaze to her. ‘You think this is some sort of game?’ he asked, his voice deadly soft.
She shrugged. ‘You were pretty upset with me last night about something besides my not knowing who you were. Are you going to deny that?’
Shadows drifted across his face and his jaw clenched once. ‘This is neither the time nor the place—’
‘I think it’s exactly the time and place. Or do you often go around tossing out proposals to women you don’t like?’
And not just any proposal. One that guaranteed she would bequeen. Which was just—absurd.