Page 84 of Royally Arranged

“Of course not,” Maverick said, scowling. “What an awful thing to gamble on.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re up to when I’m not there!”

“Nothing but work, darling. I promise.”

“When I come back there next weekend, I’ll know, so don’t lie.”

I giggled at their banter. It was obvious that, even with the distance, these two adored each other. Carmina made trips to Torino every month, staying for two weeks at a time. The rest of the days she lived at the estate with Thorne and me.

Francesca was here as well, but I sensed she was trying to figure out what to do with herself now that her other siblings had their lives getting off the ground. Lately, she’d dropped hints she might move to Torino to live in the castle with her dad as arealprincess.

Maverick’s attention moved to me. Under his rich blue eyes, I shifted in place. “I’m thrilled to find out what Thorne and Nova are having. Let’s do this, the whole family is here.”

Family.My pleased smile hurt my cheeks.

“Here you go,” Sammy said, handing me a knife. The box was removed, leaving a round white cake on a plate. It had nothing to identify what color the batter was inside. But once I sliced through the frosting, revealing blue or pink, everyone would know what the baby in my belly was.

Our OB had sent the information to the bakery, ensuring no one but those bakers knew what I was having. That struck me as weird, suddenly—some strangers in a store, mixing batter, knowing what I was having before I did.

“Nova?” Thorne said my name gently. He’d returned Julie to Kain, and now he sat beside me, his hand in mine. “Having second thoughts?”

Looking at his worried mouth, at his tilted eyebrows and warm eyes, and feeling his concern in every molecule in the air ... I wanted to say that second thoughts had gone out the window months ago. We werehere, this baby was real and it was coming whether this cake was pink or blue or green.

Firmly I wrapped his fingers in mine, then around the knife. “Together,” I said. “Let’s see if we’re having a prince or a princess.”

Our rings touched, pressed tight as we cut into the cake. The room began clapping, squealing the second the blue-crumb center peeked through. At the same time, the little boy in my womb kicked me harder than ever. He was rolling, as if he was celebrating his own coming debut. Hearing all the people excitedly cheering for him before they’d met him.

And as I kissed Thorne, I knew our child had every reason to celebrate.