Page 23 of Twins For His Majesty (Royally Tempted #1)

T HEY SLEPT IN the same bed and they made love as if it was the last chance they had to be together—with desperate, fervent passion—but in the morning, a sense of restraint was still between them.

A tension that tugged at Phoebe and frustrated her.

She didn’t want to fight with Octavio. She didn’t want to be here in this beautiful, beachside paradise and be at odds with the man she’d married. The man she was having twins with.

And so, as he pulled a fruit platter from the fridge and placed it on the counter, Phoebe took a seat on the stool opposite and rested her chin on her palm, doing everything she could to appear nonchalant even when her tummy was in knots.

‘Tell me about your cousin Xiomara,’ she started, her voice a little tremulous.

He glanced at her, offering a smile. A tight smile, but at least it was an attempt at civility.

Her gut churned. Why should she care if he was annoyed at her?

But why would he be annoyed at her? Because of their argument yesterday?

Or because Christopher had messaged her?

She wasn’t in control of the latter, or even the former, when it came to it.

‘What would you like to know?’

‘I like her,’ Phoebe said with a lift of her shoulder. ‘She was so kind to me on our wedding day. She didn’t have to be, but she really took me under her wing.’

‘That’s Xiomara.’ He flicked on the coffee machine and slipped a mug beneath it. The kitchen filled with the aroma of caffeine as it whirred to life.

‘You’re friends with her?’

He hesitated almost imperceptibly, but Phoebe caught it. ‘Yes.’

‘Her father is Mauricio,’ Phoebe prompted.

Octavio’s eyes lifted to Phoebe’s. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’

The joke tugged at Phoebe’s lips, drawing a smile from her, and she felt the cracking of their tension, the easing of awkwardness with that one simple quip.

She breathed out.

‘You don’t like him.’

Octavio looked at her with a hint of bemusement. ‘That’s well established.’

‘Why not?’

Octavio slid a coffee across to Phoebe, then set about making himself one.

She lifted the drink to her nose and inhaled it.

The doctor had assured her coffee—in strict moderation—was fine, and while she’d been happy to give up almost anything for the babies, this cup of half-strength coffee in the morning was one of life’s greatest pleasures.

One of.

Her eyes lifted to Octavio reflexively, as her mind replayed the way they’d spent the small hours of the morning, and she flushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

His gaze was slightly teasing as it fixed on her, as though he’d read her thoughts.

She lifted the cup to her lips partly to conceal her face from him.

‘My uncle is…’ He hesitated, frowning, turning away to make his own coffee, so she realised he was doing his share of face hiding as well. ‘He’s nothing like my father,’ Octavio said after a pause.

‘Your father was oldest?’ she asked, then realised how silly that question was, because of course Octavio’s father, who’d been King before Octavio, had been the oldest. ‘Never mind. Dumb question.’

‘Not so dumb, actually,’ Octavio said. ‘My father was older, yes, but by only a few minutes.’

‘They were twins,’ she said on an exhalation, something prickling her spine—a sense of history repeating itself. She pressed a hand to her own stomach, as if she could communicate with the babies there.

Octavio nodded, turning back to face her, coffee cup clasped in one strong, tanned hand. ‘All his life, Mauricio resented my father for something which he could not control. My father had been born first. By the law of the land, he was therefore the heir to the throne.’

She winced. ‘That must have been hard, for everyone.’

‘Yes and no. My father didn’t have a resentful bone in his body. He was naturally very good at things. Sport, academics, he was well-liked, popular. Power came easy to him. Even without his title, his command was apparent.’

‘Sounds like someone else I know,’ she said, with sincerity.

Octavio’s smile was automatic, almost dismissive. She wondered if he recognised the truth of her words.

‘I think generally, twins are quite close. Almost codependent. The same could not be said for my father and Mauricio. For every accomplishment my father enjoyed, Mauricio seemed to act as though he was being robbed.’

‘How do you know this?’

Octavio rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘Things I heard as a boy, things I’ve learned since, things I’ve read—quotes that Mauricio stupidly gave to journalists when he was in a fit of pique.’

‘Why then would your parents nominate him to serve as your Regent?’

‘They had no choice. It’s enshrined in the constitution.’

‘Right, I think I was taught that.’

Her mind had become hazy with all the lessons she’d consumed between getting engaged to Octavio and marrying him.

‘Just the essentials,’ her tutors had assured her.

It hadn’t felt at all essential to Phoebe to learn the obscure laws of Castilona, at least not in order to get married, but she’d sat there and paid attention. Mostly.

‘Obviously they had no thought of dying. They were young, both in excellent health. Their deaths couldn’t have been foreseen.’

‘It was a car accident, wasn’t it?’

He nodded, but slowly, like he was buried in deep thought.

‘They were overseas, for work. Their trip took them to a remote village high on a mountain, where they intended to tour a school. Rain had been forecast, but it turned into a flash flood. Their car was caught in a deluge and pushed off the edge of the cliff.’

She shuddered. It was awful. Truly awful. ‘Octavio.’ She reached across for his hand, tears sparkling on her lashes. Pregnancy hormones regularly pulled at her emotions, but this was more than that.

‘I know,’ he said, and something morphed in her body—a sense that they understood one another’s deepest thoughts and needs without words.

It was a closeness she’d never felt before.

But how ridiculous, a voice in her head chastised.

They were not close. Not in any way but the physical.

They were virtual strangers, still dancing around, getting to know one another gradually. Weren’t they?

She’d known Christopher. Known him for years, but never really understood him. She’d thought she could trust him with her life, and he’d betrayed her. Knowing someone was a fallacy.

She couldn’t wrestle with the conundrum a moment longer because Octavio was talking again, almost as if the floodgates had been opened and he couldn’t—or didn’t want to—close them.

‘I remember the day I heard so clearly. Everything about it is burned into my memory. Where I was, the light, the sound of Rodrigo’s voice, when he came to tell me.

He had been crying—which was unusual for him.

He tried to hide it from me, but I could tell by the way his eyes were puffy and his voice raw.

He sat me on his lap and held me close and explained to me that my parents were gone but that they would always love me.

He told me that not only would my mother and I always have the stars, but she was now amongst them, so all I had to do was look up and see them sparkle and know that she was thinking of me.

’ He grimaced. ‘I was nine—he was doing his best to be age-appropriate.’

‘It sounds like he did a good job to me.’ She dashed at her eyes, forestalling the tears that were threatening.

‘From then, it was a whirlwind of change. Mauricio was quickly announced as Regent, ruling in my name until my twenty-eighth birthday.’

‘Why so old? Why not eighteen or twenty-one, or even twenty-five?’

‘Tradition. A tradition that had not, until me, been tested. It was an arbitrary number, decided upon several generations ago. I’m the first monarch to have been held powerless until that age because of the law.’

She sipped her coffee, a hand on her stomach on autopilot. ‘You don’t feel Mauricio did a good job?’

‘I know he didn’t,’ Octavio said, his voice like steel. ‘Everything Mauricio did was about consolidating his own power. I am still not convinced that he wasn’t moving the pieces into place to stage a coup, closer to my coronation.’

She gasped.

‘He installed loyal friends into the highest military positions, promoted his allies into important political roles. It will take years to gradually weed out troublemakers and ensure our government is working for the good of the people. For his entire regency, his focus was on how he might retain power, even after he was removed.’

‘And has he?’

His eyes glittered. ‘To some extent, yes.’

She blinked.

‘It is one of the reasons I insisted on us sharing my apartment, in the palace.’

‘Because the staff might leak to him?’

He hesitated a little. ‘And because I needed to know you would be safe.’ There was an uneasiness to his voice.

Her heart fizzed and popped in her chest. His concern for her was like a firework, but she quickly understood it was not her he was worried about, but the babies she carried.

That thought was confirmed a moment later when he added, ‘Our children are a threat to him. If he could depose me, then he would be King. Once these babies are born…’

‘You can’t seriously think he means to fight you for the throne? Or that he would do anything to hurt our twins?’

His features, for a moment, seemed to tighten with sheer exhaustion.

‘My parents were killed in an accident,’ he said slowly, eyes raking her face, as if trying to understand something.

‘But before they set off on that road trip, a report was issued from the village to the palace that flash flooding was expected. The report never made it to my parents’ driver, nor their security detail. ’

Phoebe gasped again, pressing her palm against her mouth. ‘You think Mauricio did that?’