Page 12 of Twins For His Majesty (Royally Tempted #1)

She had never sought the limelight though.

If anything, Phoebe was shy, and the thought of living her life so publicly sent a chill through her spine.

But what did that matter? Octavio was right.

Their babies would be princes or princesses of this kingdom, if he chose to acknowledge them as such.

That would mean their lives would be public, their role in the line of succession ensuring they were always persons of interest to the public.

There was no way Phoebe could let that happen without her being there to protect them.

If Octavio was determined to do this, then Phoebe had to be a part of the deal.

But…

Surely she could change his mind?

‘This doesn’t make sense,’ she said with a small shake of her head. ‘You’re meant to be marrying a princess, and I’m meant to be going home in a few months.’

‘This is your home now.’

Something tugged at her heart. Hadn’t she felt that way the moment she’d landed?

Hadn’t the air and the sea and history and architecture weaved in and out of her DNA, reminding her of something she’d never even known?

The first time she’d gone to the beach and the water had washed over her bare feet, she’d felt almost as if she were being baptised.

It had been remarkable—inexplicable. But that was a connection to her father’s homeland; it didn’t matter right now.

She glanced at him and then looked away again quickly, when just the sight of him made her pulse tremble.

‘What about Sasha?’ There was no sense pretending she didn’t remember the other woman’s name.

‘She’ll be surprised,’ he conceded. ‘But not disappointed.’

‘You sound convinced of that.’

‘We are not a couple.’

Phoebe nodded slowly. ‘Still, it might prove embarrassing to her.’

‘Unfortunately, that’s unavoidable. We were not officially engaged, however. It’s only rumours, and they can easily be countered.’

Phoebe’s lips pulled to the side. ‘This is a lot,’ she said, rubbing her temple gingerly. ‘I think we should both go and think about this overnight.’

‘You may go and think, but it will change nothing for me.’

Her jaw dropped in the face of his absolute certainty, but at least he was offering her a reprieve. She thought longingly of the apartment she’d rented, and the space it would afford her to come to grips with this development.

‘Okay.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘We can talk tomorrow.’

‘Fine. My aide will take you to my apartment.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Your apartment?’

‘So you can think.’

‘I…can think at my place.’

‘Impossible.’

‘What?’

‘You live here now.’

Her jaw dropped at his heavy-handed presumptuousness. ‘Octavio, perhaps you’re forgetting that I am my own person with an ability to make my own choices in life?’

‘I’m not forgetting that.’

‘Then stop acting like a bull in a china shop. I’m going back to my apartment where I can think clearly. ’

‘Your apartment is now empty.’

Her heart twisted. ‘What?’ The whisper was barely audible.

‘My security guards have brought your things here. Or rather, they’re in the process of bringing them.’

She glared at him, utterly infuriated. ‘You had no right to do that.’

‘You’re going to marry me, and soon. The sooner the better, in terms of your acceptance by the people of Castilona.’

‘I’m not going to marry you,’ she shouted, her heart racing at the very thought.

‘Then you’re going to stay here until the babies are born. After that, you may do what you want. It would make things a hell of a lot easier for me, and our children, if you would at least marry me before then, though. Castilonian succession laws are somewhat outdated, you see.’

The colour faded from her skin. She could feel it seeping from her, like tea might stain a mug of boiled water. ‘Stop doing that.’

He arched a brow.

‘I’m going to be wherever my babies are.’

‘Our babies are heirs to the throne of Castilona. They’re going to be here.’ He enunciated every word of that last sentence with perfect gravity.

Her heart sank to her toes. His proposal seemed almost inevitable, and she hated that.

She hated him for that. But she also felt something else—something a little like relief.

Even though she was furious with Octavio, what he was offering was the kind of safety net she couldn’t have imagined, at least materially.

All of Phoebe’s life, she’d watched her mother struggle and worry and fret.

Money had always been tight, and Phoebe had known her mother had wanted, so badly, to give Phoebe more than she could.

She’d wanted her little girl to have so much more, but they’d never been able to afford anything, and in the end, Phoebe had left school at sixteen to get a job, to help pay the rent.

When her mother had died, Phoebe had been just seventeen, and everything had fallen apart.

No wonder Christopher had been able to draw her into his web so easily.

She’d been so alone and so intensely vulnerable, floundering with no idea where she was going in life.

He’d come along and swept her up, all handsome and charismatic, and she’d believed his act: hook, line and sinker.

At least Octavio wasn’t lying to her. He wasn’t trying to charm her into this marriage. Heck, he could have kissed her and got her to agree to just about any damned thing he wanted. But he was laying it all out—what he needed, what he would do if she didn’t agree, and what she’d get in exchange.

Yet it still felt like a pathway lined with danger for Phoebe. After all, he held all the cards in this scenario, and she held none. ‘I need to think,’ she muttered, barely looking at him.

‘Then go and think. We’ll discuss it further over dinner.’

A shiver ran the length of her spine, because that wasn’t an invitation.

‘Fine.’ She stalked towards him now, her back ramrod straight. ‘I hope you know what a bastard you’re being.’

He glared back at her, his eyes like coal. ‘As opposed to you, who decided to hide this pregnancy from me?’

Her lips parted on a swell of outrage but tears sparkled in her eyes because he had a point.

She didn’t have any interest in seeing things his way, but if she had wanted to, she could understand how angry he must have been at her.

‘Oh, go to hell,’ she snapped, stalking from the room and wishing she never had to see him again.

Go to hell? Go to hell? Did she have any idea that he had been plunged into that very state this afternoon?

Seeing her again had been instantly terrifying, because his body had rejoiced on a cellular level, and in that very instant, he’d had to admit to himself how woefully inadequate his attempts had been to forget her, to tell himself she meant nothing to him.

Even if it was just a physical thing, he was still attracted to her in a way that had a horrifying power to fell him to his knees. He accepted then that he could never see her again. He would run a mile over steaming hot coals before he’d open the door to anyone with that power over him.

And a millisecond later, he’d seen that she was pregnant, and a rush of comprehension had dawned on him, like a single bomb at first and then a whole series of them, detonating one after the other as the future he had carefully mapped out and made his peace with was blown to smithereens.

The only future he now saw included Phoebe: the one person he suspected he should never, ever be in the same room with again.