Page 21 of Twins For His Majesty (Royally Tempted #1)

‘M IND IF I ask you something?’

She looked at him, her mouth full of the saffron-infused rice he’d heated for their lunch, and nodded.

They’d chosen to sit at the kitchen table, which was an informal yet beautiful space with views towards the front garden and cove.

Phoebe thought she would never grow tired of this view.

It was heartwarmingly beautiful. When she’d finished eating, she said, ‘You’re the King, aren’t you?

I’m pretty sure you don’t have to ask my permission for anything. ’

‘With you, I’m just Octavio. Just like I said that first night we met.’

Her smile was wistful. Things had seemed so simple then.

It had almost felt as though fate had thrown them together for that one night, because it knew he needed a comfort that only she could give and because she’d needed…

what? To move on? To officially put an end to the chapter with Christopher by sleeping with someone else? Perhaps that had motivated her in part.

‘Phoebe?’

She startled a little. ‘Yes. I’m listening.’

He was too perceptive to have missed the fact she’d drifted off into her own thoughts. She focused on him now.

‘Why did you choose to work at the clínica ?’

Her brows knit together. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You were working as an administrator in a school. There must have been a lot of jobs you could have applied for.’

‘Oh.’ She nodded. ‘Well, the pay was good, for one thing. And I guess…’ She sighed a little.

‘My mother worked as a cleaner at a hospital. When I saw the listing, I sort of felt… I don’t know.

It sounds so stupid, but I almost felt as if she was guiding me towards the job.

Like maybe she was pulling strings.’ Then, aware of how fanciful it sounded, she cleared her throat.

‘Plus, the hours were flexible, and the notice period virtually non-existent. I wanted a job I could walk out of if—’

‘If?’

‘If I found my dad.’

Octavio’s expression was sympathetic. ‘Tell me what you know of him?’

‘Not a lot. His name and the fact that mum was pretty sure he lived in the capital.’

‘She didn’t tell you anything else about him?’

‘Nothing that would help me find him.’ She sighed, pushing the paella around her plate.

‘She said he loved music, that he played guitar as if taught by angels, that he sang beautifully and could swim like a fish. She told me he was kind and patient but that they both knew their fling would be brief. He left without giving her his number or email address or anything. She didn’t even have a photograph. ’

Octavio’s frown deepened. ‘That’s it?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve given all this to the investigator I hired.’

‘And has the investigator turned up any information?’

‘Not yet. I’m hopeful every day though.’ She pleated her napkin. ‘I know it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack but I’d love to know who he is.’

‘You have a lot of resources at your command, Phoebe. My security forces can help, you know.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘When we get back, I’ll arrange a meeting. You can go through everything with them. Maybe the palace will be able to find him.’

‘Maybe.’ Butterflies ignited in her stomach.

‘And then he’ll learn not only that he has a daughter, but also that she is Queen of his country.’

‘That’s a little overwhelming,’ she said with a grimace. ‘I’m not sure how he’ll feel about that.’

‘He’ll be thrilled to know you, Phoebe. He’ll think he’s won the lottery.’

‘Because I’m Queen?’

He reached out and put his hand on hers. ‘Because you’re you.’

Phoebe’s heart turned over in her chest. She pulled her hand away quickly, rubbing it against her leg beneath the table.

Christopher had been charming, too. Christopher had said things that had made her feel so special and wonderful, as though he was the luckiest man on earth, and it had all been a lie.

‘Don’t say things like that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s not…it’s not what we are.’

‘So I’m not allowed to compliment you?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t need it. I don’t want it. We barely know one another.’

He frowned at her characterisation but she refused to be swayed.

‘If it hadn’t been for the baby, we would never have seen one another again.’

‘That was your choice, not mine.’

‘There was no choice about it. You were offering something I could never have accepted.’

His frown deepened. ‘More time with me?’

‘As your mistress.’ Her nostrils flared. ‘Do you have any idea what that felt like?’

‘I said lover , not mistress .’

‘It’s the same thing. You made it clear I wasn’t suitable for anything but secret sex. What kind of woman, with a modicum of self-respect, would accept that?’

‘I’m not your ex,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s natural that you would conflate us in your mind, but I am not him. I was not intending to do the wrong thing by you. I was not intending to use you. I certainly didn’t intend to lie to you.’

She bit into her lip. All that was true, but he’d still hurt her in the same way Christopher had. She’d still felt betrayed by his request. Offended, angry, hurt, hollowed out. Devalued and cheap.

‘I thought that by laying my cards on the table, there would be no room for problems. I wanted to keep seeing you, but not to risk leading you on. Our chemistry is something that would be easy to mistake for…more. I didn’t want to risk that in spending time together you might mistake our physical relationship for something like love. It happens, you know?’

She tilted her face away from him, staring out to sea, suddenly wishing she were far, far away from him and here, that she were out on the ocean, floating on her back in the shape of a star, limbs spread wide.

Even there though, she suspected this feeling would follow her.

She wasn’t sure where she could go that would leave her safe.

‘Has it happened to you?’ She wasn’t really interested, but she felt she needed to say something to buy some time. To enable herself to recover some equilibrium and seem something like normal.

‘I’m always careful.’

Always. She turned to face him then, scanning his features. ‘It can’t have been easy for you to date.’

‘No,’ he agreed.

‘You have lived your whole life in the spotlight.’

He dipped his head in agreement.

‘So how did you do it?’

‘The same way I did with you.’

Something panged in her chest. None of this was new for him. It was all the same.

‘By being honest, ensuring discretion.’

‘How did you know you could trust me?’ she asked, pressing her chin into her palm, elbow resting on the tabletop.

His lips tugged downwards. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I mean, I was working as a cleaner and selling sordid details of our night together could have earned me a lot of money…’

‘I know.’

‘So, wasn’t that a risk for you to take?’

‘I wasn’t myself that night.’

‘So ordinarily, you wouldn’t have approached me?’

The silence stretched between them. She didn’t know why it mattered so much. She was trying to get to grips with her own feelings but delving into his wasn’t helping.

‘I’d like to say no, but in all sincerity, there was something about you. I’d noticed you, even before I spoke to you.’

Phoebe’s heart trembled dangerously. ‘What had you noticed about me?’

‘Your grace.’ For some reason, she loved that he’d said something beyond the mere physical. It wasn’t her hair or her eyes, but an expression of who she was. ‘You walk as though you are listening to classical music. You walk as though you are dancing in your mind. I find it mesmerising.’

Her stomach swooped.

‘I didn’t realise.’

‘I cannot be the first person to point that out to you?’

A memory hovered on the periphery of her mind. A warm memory, that made her smile. ‘My mother actually used to say that, too.’

‘Did she?’

Phoebe nodded. ‘She enrolled me in a couple of free “come and try” dance classes. I loved it. Ballet, particularly.’

‘Did you continue to study?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘She couldn’t afford it. Nor could she get me to class reliably. She often worked two jobs, just to cover our bills.’

Sympathy softened his eyes but Phoebe tilted her chin.

‘She was an incredible woman. I will always be proud of her for how hard she worked. She tried her best, every day. And it wasn’t easy.

She wanted better for me.’ Phoebe pressed her palm to her stomach.

‘So you can imagine how I felt when I realised I was going to be returning home to walk in her footsteps—a single mother, with a father who may or may not want anything to do with us.’ She blinked quickly.

‘At least, that’s what I thought, when I found out I was pregnant. ’

His voice was soft, but rumbly. Deep, as if drawn from the very depths of his chest. ‘That would never have been your fate. From the moment I learned of the pregnancy, I have wanted to be here, to support you, to be a father.’

Tears threatened. She blinked again. ‘I know that now.’

He expelled a breath and she had the sense he was holding something back, perhaps waiting until later. ‘What did she want for you, Phoebe?’

Her mother. Phoebe pressed her fork into the paella thoughtfully. ‘Just something better.’ She tasted the rice, swallowed, then took a sip of her water. ‘But then she got sick, and I had to leave school.’

More sympathy in Octavio’s eyes. She focused on a point over his shoulder. His sympathy made her want to cry. Worse, it made her want to stand up and walk around the table, sit in his lap and let him put his arms around her. To hold her until his strength seeped into her and she felt whole again.

She’d been strong for so long. Strong on her own.

It had been such a burden to carry, but she couldn’t share that with Octavio.

She couldn’t ask it of him. That’s not what they were.

His words were burned into her brain, and she knew she’d need to hold them like a talisman in order to keep a cool head in all this.

‘What kind of sick?’