Bound by the Prince's Baby Read online

  The obvious automatic reply was a quick negative. Of course he wasn’t bored. How could he be? After all, it was a huge privilege to serve his country; his father had impressed that on him every day. But sometimes, sitting in yet another long meeting or budget discussion or on yet another formal visit, Tris had been aware that something was missing. Over the last few weeks he had started to realise just what that something might be: companionship, laughter, maybe even love. ‘It’s not something I let myself think about,’ he said honestly.

  ‘Everyone should be bored sometimes; Dad always said that learning to cope with it builds character. But I promise there will be no character-building in that way this holiday; I have too much educating to do. I hope you got the shopping list I sent you?’

  ‘Kitchen fully stocked, ma’am.’ He saluted her and his heart lifted as Amber let out a peal of laughter. It couldn’t be this easy, this simple, spending time together. Could it?

  ‘Come on then, show me around,’ she said, taking his arm. ‘I want every detail of every scrape you got into when you were young. No matter how embarrassing.’

  ‘I’ll do my best but, I warn you, my childhood was about as exciting as my adult life so don’t expect too much.’

  Amber raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know; you managed to get a stranger pregnant from a one-night stand and then found out you were engaged to her all along. That doesn’t sound boring to me.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Things have definitely livened up recently.’

  Amber kept her hand tucked into his arm as Tris showed her around the villa. Imposing as it was, it was still a family home, not a political seat like the castle, and the tour didn’t take too long, even with Amber stopping to admire the view from every single room.

  ‘I’ve put you in what used to be my mother’s room,’ Tris said, opening the door into a charming suite of rooms overlooking the lake, a balcony leading from the dressing room.

  Amber stopped and looked at him anxiously. ‘Won’t she mind?’

  ‘Oh, no. She lives in Switzerland now, with her second husband; she never comes back here.’

  ‘That seems so sad when she lived here for such a long time. Why doesn’t she come back?’

  Tris stepped over to the window. How many times had his mother looked out at the lake and the mountains beyond, feeling trapped and helpless? ‘She feels that she was exiled here.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Tris had known that visiting the villa again meant laying some ghosts, even if not all the spirits were dead. He tried to keep his voice neutral. ‘What do you know about my parents?’

  Amber glanced at him quickly. ‘Not much. I mean I know your father died when you were about twenty, but I don’t think my grandmother ever really mentioned your mother. Nor have you. There’re no pictures of her anywhere.’

  ‘No, my father gradually removed them all. He was an unforgiving man and she hurt his pride, if not his heart.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.’

  Amber might have meant every word, but Tris knew that this holiday was crucial in her decision whether to stay in Elsornia with him or return home, and that his inability to open up was weighing against him. ‘Do you want some air?’ he asked and, without waiting for an answer, unlocked the door to the balcony and stepped outside. How many times had he found his mother out here, a forbidden cigarette in one hand, a black coffee in the other as she stared bleakly at the mountains which cut her off from the parties and company she craved. Only in the summer, when the villages were filled with visitors, did she come alive. He knew without looking that Amber had joined him, leaning on the wooden balcony by his side.

  ‘My mother, like you, came from a dispossessed royal house, which is why my father considered her a suitable bride. Also, like you, a life full of pomp and duty wasn’t really what she wanted. Oh, she tried, but my father was a very austere and conscientious man. Elsornia always came first and she really struggled with that, with him. When I was ten, she and my sisters moved here. They told everyone it was temporary, for her health, but the reality was she left my father, and she left me with him.’

  ‘Oh, Tris, that must have been so hard for you.’

  His throat dried; the sympathy in her voice was almost more than he could bear.

  ‘My father refused to grant her a divorce. Instead he gave her an ultimatum: live here with her daughters, stay at the castle with us all or leave alone. She chose the girls. She left the villa the week after my father’s funeral; less than a year later she remarried.’

  ‘Did you see much of her? Of your sisters?’

  ‘A few weeks in the summer, that was all. My father didn’t have much time for my sisters. Girls were no use to him; they couldn’t inherit and marrying them off wasn’t really an option in the twenty-first century. His loss. My sisters are lovely, warm women and they are also scarily brilliant. As you know, Elisabetta works with me, she speaks four languages fluently and has a PhD in International Relations. Giuliana is a trained pilot and is a shining light in the Air Force and Talia is still at university, doing something with physics I quite frankly don’t understand.’

  ‘They sound most formidable; if I didn’t already know Elisabetta I’d be terrified of them.’ Amber moved closer, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. ‘It sounds like your mother had to make some very difficult choices. I’m sure she loves you.’

  ‘It was a long time ago. I don’t really think about it any more.’ The lie hung there as he turned away and the pressure increased on his shoulder, her other arm sliding around his waist as she pressed herself against his back, all softness and warmth and understanding. It was almost more than he could bear.

  ‘You don’t have to pretend with me, Tris. You never have to pretend with me.’

  Tris wanted to tell her that he wasn’t pretending, that he’d been fine then and he was definitely fine now. That his father had been right, Tris had needed to grow up and start being responsible, not spend his days larking around on the lake and wasting his time playing with his sisters and cousins. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead he turned, gathering her into his arms, burying his head into her hair, holding her close.

  Her understanding, her comfort was dangerous, but he couldn’t step away. He didn’t want to need her; he didn’t want to need anyone. Need led to betrayal and disappointment; he’d learned that lesson young and never forgotten it. The formal agreement he’d signed with Amber’s grandmother, the formal arrangement he’d assumed they’d come to in the lawyer’s office in Paris had suited him fine: a wife, an heir, his life neatly tied up with no emotional mess. How could he have believed that future possible when he knew how she felt, how she tasted, how her warmth enveloped him until the chill deep in his bones disappeared? There was nothing neat or tidy about Amber and the way she made him feel. And that made him so, so vulnerable.

  Right now Tris couldn’t help but accept the comfort she offered, tilting her chin, searching her gaze with his for consent before taking her mouth in a deep claiming kiss that branded her on his heart. This was no seduction, no tease, no sweet playfulness but deep and raw and almost painful.

  Amber didn’t pull back. Instead she pressed closer, entwining her arms around him, kissing him back fiercely as if trying to prove that he was worth something after all. How he wished he could believe it, could believe in himself as much as he believed in her.

  * * *

  Amber stretched out on the sofa and waved her book at Tris. ‘Look what Harriet gave me. Us,’ she corrected herself.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Baby names. You don’t have one of those lists that royal children have to be named from, do you? As someone saddled with Vasilisa as my middle name, I have strong feelings about names.’

  ‘No, no lists.’ Tris perched on the arm next to her and Amber leaned h
er head against his leg, enjoying the intimacy. They’d been at the villa for a couple of days now and every moment felt easier and easier, as if they were together by choice, not circumstance. Tris seemed younger, lighter, away from the castle and the all-consuming summons of his phones and aides, and in return Amber felt herself drawn more and more to him.

  Theirs was a slow courtship, a contrast to the way they’d met, when they’d rushed into intimacy with such life-changing consequences. Instead they held hands as Tris showed her his favourite lakeside walk and indulged in long, sweet, slow kissing sessions that left Amber breathless with desire. If this was being wooed then she liked it, this anticipation of touch, this easy communication. It was everything she had always hoped for in a relationship. She couldn’t believe this was Tris, the uptight, upright, closed-off prince, jeans-clad and relaxed beside her.

  ‘In that case, do you have any favourites?’ Amber was aware she held all the cards in this pregnancy; it was her decision whether they married, whether she stayed in Elsornia, whether Tris was a full-time father or an occasional parent. She wanted the name to mean something to him. As long as he didn’t saddle the baby with something as hard to live with as Vasilisa, that was.

  Tris took the book from her and leafed through the pages. ‘You’ve been busy underlining,’ he said, one hand resting casually on her hair. ‘Artemis, Athene, Hector? I sense a theme.’

  ‘My dad really wanted to call me Athene, but my mother said no way—but if the baby has your eyes then it would be fitting, don’t you think? Grey-eyed Athene?’

  ‘I don’t know; naming a baby after a goddess seems to give it an awful lot to live up to. What was your mother’s name?’

  ‘Rosemary. My dad was Svetoslav, but he changed it to Stephen when he moved to the UK.’

  ‘Okay then, Rosa or Stefano. How does that sound?’

  Amber sat up, turning to Tris in surprise. ‘Really?’

  ‘If it would make you happy.’

  She blinked, her throat tight. ‘If it would make me happy? I can’t think of anything that would make me happier. I’ve been missing them so much recently. I don’t know if it’s talking about them with you, or realising I’m going to have this baby without my mother to help me.’ She tried to summon a smile but could feel it wobbling. ‘I know it’s silly, I’ve had to do so much without her, but I really wish she was here. She would have been such a great grandmother.’

  ‘She’ll be with you,’ Tris said, cupping her cheek softly. ‘Every time you bake with our daughter or son your mother will be there, every myth you read our child your dad will be reading along with you.’

  For a moment all she could do was stare wordlessly at him as his words sunk in, each one warming her soul. ‘You’re right. As long as I keep our traditions alive, as long as they’re in my heart they’re here. Thank you, Tris.’ She leaned in and kissed him, a brief, sweet caress. ‘And thank you for the names. It’s the most beautiful gesture; I’ll never forget it. Never forget that you brought me here to this beautiful place...’

  ‘Amber. It’s the least I can do. You’re not just giving me a baby; you’re giving me a chance to prove myself to you. I know what it’s cost you. I just want you to know that I appreciate it.’

  ‘Right now, you’re making it very easy...’ She didn’t know who kissed who this time, the kiss lengthening as she lost herself in him, Tris shifting until Amber was pressed close, her arms entwined around his neck, his hand on her back, warming her through as her body trembled with want, needing him closer, not wanting any barriers between them.

  ‘Tris?’ She pulled back, looking him full in the face, letting him see her desire and need, letting everything she felt show in her eyes, in her parted mouth, her ragged breath. ‘I want you, all of you. Make love to me, Tris, please.’

  He was almost preternaturally still, only his eyes alive, scorching as he stared at her, his gaze moving slowly to her mouth, to the exposed skin at her neck where her pulse beat frantically, to her chest. Slowly, oh, so slowly, he moved it back up to meet her gaze. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.’ And she hadn’t. This wasn’t the combined magic of moonlight, champagne and a long dormant crush; this was the knowledge that the man beside her would never intentionally hurt her, was beginning to know her heart, and that was far more intoxicating than any romantic evening. ‘I want you, Tris.’

  Finally, his mouth curved into a wolfish smile and she shivered at the heat in his eyes. ‘In that case, my lady, how can I refuse?’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘WHAT DO YOU want to do today?’ Amber leaned back against the pillows and watched Tris dress with unashamed appreciation. He had far too good a body for a prince who claimed to spend most of his time in meetings; those lean muscles didn’t come from a gym but from a man who loved the outdoors and knew how to handle himself in it. She wriggled with contentment as she shifted. It wasn’t the only thing he knew how to handle...

  They’d been at the villa for nearly two weeks now and Tris had spent every night, since the afternoon they’d started to pick baby names and ended up making love, in her bed. She loved waking up with his arm wrapped around her waist, the warmth and heaviness of him next to her. He made her feel safe. Wanted. Needed—and not just because of the baby she carried. And it wasn’t all one-sided. She valued his opinions, his thoughtfulness and good sense, just as she enjoyed watching him relax more and more each day. Amber wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected from their holiday, but it certainly wasn’t this contented ease and intimacy.

  Sliding her hand down to caress the slight curve of her belly, she sat up a little more, all the better to watch him dress. ‘We made good progress on the films yesterday, although how you fell asleep during my favourite dance movie I do not know. Definitely several marks lost there.’

  ‘No films today.’ Tris pulled a T-shirt over his head.

  Amber approved of this more casual Tris. His hair was a little messy and he had even allowed a hint of stubble to appear, giving him an edgy sexiness. She especially liked knowing that this relaxed part of him was kept secret from nearly everybody, that it was hers alone.

  ‘Not even one film?’

  They’d quickly fallen into a pattern. If the weather was good they went out for a walk or a sail on the lake, coming back mid-afternoon to either watch one of the films from the list Amber had put together or to read in companionable silence. Whilst in London she’d bought an e-reader and filled it with a selection of her favourite books for him.

  ‘You have to start at the beginning,’ she’d explained to Tris, so she’d included some of her own coming-of-age favourites and if they weren’t exactly Tris’s preferred reading he hadn’t said so. Like the playlists of songs and the list of movies, she’d tried to put together a real mix to allow him to discover his own preferences—although if that preference didn’t include Dirty Dancing she had a lot more educating to do.

  On cooler or wet days they either explored the charming villages and towns along the lakeside or carried on with baking lessons. The quiet, tranquil days suited her perfectly. The pregnancy and its ramifications had rocked her more than she’d realised; it wasn’t until she had her scan that she really understood just how much her life was going to change. She also knew she really didn’t want to raise a baby alone if she didn’t have to, that she was going to do everything in her power to make a relationship with Tris work.

  She just hadn’t expected spending time with him to be so easy, to make the thought of extending her stay, even making a life here actually enticing not just bearable. Gone was the austere, closed-off Prince from the castle; instead Tris was proving to be a really entertaining companion. An entertaining companion and a good lover. More, she was beginning to see beneath the surface, beginning to understand how his father’s demands and his mother’s desertion had shaped him. Every time he let her in sh
e felt herself fall a little more.

  If only this holiday could go on for ever, but all too soon they would return to real life and then she’d discover if this was just a holiday romance and all the steps they’d made would be wiped away by the tide of reality.

  It was scary how much she hoped for the former, even as she prepared herself for the latter.

  Tris crossed the room and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his, his grip firm and tender. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but when my sisters heard we were here they went on a big nostalgia trip. To be fair, it was their home for a decade; Talia was only four when she moved here. Somehow they seem to have invited themselves for the weekend. I only realised they actually meant it and are on their way this morning when I checked the family group chat. I know you wanted to be alone...’

  ‘I did, but your sisters are different. Of course I’d like to spend some more time with Elisabetta and meet your other sisters. What do they know about me? About us?’

  ‘Elisabetta knows everything, of course, but the other two know nothing more than when you came: that we met at the wedding and I somehow persuaded you to spend some time here before making up your mind whether to cancel the betrothal agreement or not. I have to warn you that Talia thinks it’s all very romantic. In her head the betrothal and your disappearance has made you into some kind of fairy tale heroine. Giuliana, on the other hand, thinks you did exactly the right thing to run away and can’t understand what on earth made you come back.’

  Interesting—that was pretty much how she’d felt, torn between knowing that life wasn’t so easy and neat, that a happy-ever-after was more of a dream than a reality, and the romantic fantasies of her lonely teens. Fantasies that felt more and more real with Tris next to her, lean and strong and still absurdly handsome. But now there was a third way, not so all or nothing, a way of compromise and learning and understanding and, yes, affection and liking at the very least. Maybe even more one day, if the happiness of the last couple of weeks didn’t evaporate when they returned to the castle. And guests, even welcome ones, signalled the start of that reality seeping into their idyll.