the end it was the weight of inevitability and responsibility that got to Leila. And the realisation that she’d suspected all along that this might happen. Either this or Alix would have asked her to get rid of the baby. And the fact that he hadn’t...
She put her hand over her belly now, that newly familiar sense of protectiveness rising up. She’d felt it as soon as the doctor had confirmed her pregnancy beyond all question. Along with a welling of helpless love. So this was what her mother had gone through... It put a whole new perspective on her mother, and how brave she’d been to go it alone.
And Leila wasn’t even facing that. She was facing the opposite—a forced marriage to someone who pretty much despised her after she’d told him she’d used him. In a pathetic attempt to save face, to hide how hurt she’d been.
And now she’d have to live with that. But as long as she remembered Alix’s phone conversation she wouldn’t lose her way. He’d never intended this to be anything but a means to an end. And at least he hadn’t fooled her into thinking he’d fallen for her.
Her child would not suffer from the lack of a father as she had done. Feeling rejected. Abandoned. Unwanted. Alix might want this baby purely for what it represented: continuity. But it would be up to Leila to make sure it never, ever knew how ruthless its father was.
‘There, Miss Verughese, see what you think.’
Leila smiled absently at the stylist who’d been waiting with a rail of clothes when Alix had escorted her back through the suite like a recalcitrant child. Someone had also been there to do her hair and make-up.
She looked in the mirror now and sucked in a breath. She looked totally different. Elegant. She wore a fitted long-sleeved dress in soft, silky material. It was a deep green colour, almost dark enough to be blue. It was modest, in that it covered her chest to her throat, but it clung in such a way that made it not boring. It fell from her hips into an A-line shape, down to her knees.
Her hair was up in a chignon, showing off her neck. Her eyes and cheekbones seemed to stand out even more. She put it down to the artful make-up, and not the fact that her appetite had waned in the last month.
She was given a pair of matching high heels. And then Alix appeared. He’d changed suits and was now wearing one with a tie that had colours reflecting those in Leila’s dress. She reeled at the speed with which he’d reacted to the news and been prepared.
‘Please leave us.’
Once again the room emptied as if by magic. Alix’s cool grey gaze skated over Leila and she felt self-conscious. This man was a stranger to her. But a stranger who made her body thrum with awareness.
He held out a velvet box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful pair of dangling emerald and gold earrings. Ornate—almost Indian in their design.
She looked from them to him. ‘They’re beautiful.’
Alix said, ‘They’re part of the Crown Jewels. They were protected by loyalists to the crown while I was in exile. Put them on.’
Leila glared at him.
‘Please,’ he said.
She lifted them out, one by one, and put them on, feeling their heavy weight dangling near her jaw.
‘I have something else...’
Alix was holding out a smaller velvet box. Her heart thumped hard. She’d dreamed of this moment, even though she’d never have admitted it to herself—but not like this. Not with waves of resentment being directed at her.
Alix opened it and she almost felt dizzy for a moment. Inside was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.
Five emeralds—clearly very old. Set in a dark gold ring. It was slightly uneven, imperfect.
Leila reached out a finger and touched it reverently. ‘How old is this?’
Carelessly Alix said, ‘Around mid-seventeenth century.’
She looked at him, horrified. ‘I can’t accept this.’
Alix sounded curt. ‘It matches your eyes.’
Something traitorous moved inside her to think of him choosing jewellery because it matched her eyes. That he’d thought about it rather than just picking the first ring he saw.
Alix took the ring out of the box and took up Leila’s left hand.
Immediately her body reacted and she tensed. Alix shot her a look before sliding the ring onto her ring finger and Leila held her breath. It was as if the fates and the entire universe were conspiring against her, because it fitted her perfectly.
Alix’s hand was very dark next to her paler one, his fingers long and masculine. Hers looked tiny in comparison.
He didn’t let her go and she looked up, confused.
Alix’s expression was unreadable. ‘There’s one more thing.’
‘More jewellery? I really don’t need—’
But her words were cut off when Alix’s head lowered and his mouth slanted over hers. She was so shocked she didn’t react for a second, and that gave Alix the opportunity to coax open her mouth and deepen the kiss.
When Leila recovered her wits she tried to pull away, but Alix had a hand at the back of her head and stopped her from retreating. Everything sane in Leila was screaming at her to push him away, but her body was exulting in the kiss, drinking him in as if she’d been starved in a desert for weeks and had just found life-restoring water.
His scent intoxicated her, and before Leila could stop herself she was clutching at Alix’s jacket and pressing her body closer to his.
A sharp rap at the door broke through the fog and Alix broke contact. Leila didn’t have time to curse him or herself, because Andres was popping his head around the door and saying, ‘They’re ready for you.’
Alix said abruptly, ‘We’ll be right there.’
Andres disappeared and Leila realised she was still clinging onto Alix’s jacket. He was barely touching her. She took a step back. He was looking at her almost warily, as if she might explode. And she had almost exploded—in his arms. It was galling.
‘What was that in aid of?’ Her tongue felt too large for her mouth.
‘The world’s press are waiting for us downstairs. We need to convince them that this was a lovers’ tiff and we are now happily reunited. That the pregnancy is the happy catalyst that has brought us back together.’
The speed and equanimity with which Alix seemed to be reacting to this whole situation, not to mention his attention to detail—that kiss—just confirmed for Leila how ruthless he was. And how she’d never really known him.
She wanted to kick off her heels and run as fast as she could for as long as she could. But she couldn’t. Together they had created a baby, and that baby had to come first. Exactly as Alix had said.
She smoothed clammy hands down her dress and drew her shoulders straight. ‘Very well—we shouldn’t keep them waiting, then, should we?’
Alix watched Leila walk to the door and open it. Her spine was as straight as a dancer’s and her bearing was more innately regal than any blue-blooded princess he’d ever met. Something like admiration mounted inside him, cutting through the eddying swirl of lust that still held his body in a state of heightened awareness and uncomfortable arousal.
He’d tried to block out the effect she had on him, telling himself it couldn’t possibly have been as intense as he’d thought. But it had been more.
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