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“A little late for that, don’t you think? You’ve brought me here. I’m involved.”
“As a hired body part. Nothing else.”
She blanched and rocked back, biting down on her bottom lip.
Aleks refused to be moved by her wounded reaction. He would do anything to protect Nico, particularly from the woman who had abandoned them both.
In clipped tones with barely suppressed anger, he said, “Presenting a sick child with a long-lost mother is not in his best interest. Have you no compassion whatsoever? Think of the questions he’d ask! Do you want him to know that he was given away at birth? Do you want him asking why he’s never known about you? His health is far too fragile for that kind of revelation.”
Sara made a tiny noise of dismay and began to move around the room. She twisted her fingers together, worrying a small gold ring on her pinky. The hem of the yellow sundress swished softly against her thighs as curvy hips swayed below a slender waist.
Aleks didn’t want to notice her lush body or to remember the silk of her thighs against his palms. With firm resolve, he focused on the coldness of her heart and on his plan.
Now, while Sara was still in a state of shock, he had to press his advantage. “I’m prepared to pay you a million if you are a match and another million after the surgery.”
He was prepared to pay her far more than that should she balk. Everyone had a price.
Like a wounded tigress, Sara whirled on him. “Get this through your pig head, Aleks. I don’t want your money. I want my child.”
“He is not yours to want.”
On a sharp inhale, she drew up to her full height, shoulders high and tight as she contemplated him.
While Aleks held his own breath, she exhaled in a rush of words. “Then I won’t cooperate. You’ll have to search elsewhere for your donor.” She marched to the door and yanked it open. “You’ll also have to excuse me, Your Majesty, I must pack. I’m leaving in the morning.”
Aleks was stunned by the woman’s audacity. She was showing him out?
When he didn’t move, she said, “I never had the chance to know my son. I don’t want your money. I want to spend time with Nico. That’s the deal, Aleks. Take it, or I’m going home.”
Aleks could scarcely believe this was happening. She was bargaining with Nico’s life. But why? He didn’t believe for one second that she would turn down a million dollars in the end. Why the pretense of belated maternal feelings? Did she despise him enough to hurt him through Nico?
Whatever the reason, Sara was worse than he’d dreamed.
“Close the door.”
He had no wish for this conversation to be carried by the servants to his mother’s ears. She was upset enough. She would be livid to learn of the bargain he was about to strike.
The door snapped shut. Sara stood with one hand on the pull, facing him as calmly as if they were trading automobiles. Only the quiver of pulse above her collarbone indicated distress. “Do we have a deal?”
What choice did he have? He wanted Nico alive and well, and Sara was his only chance.
“You may visit his rooms, but either I or the queen must be present at all times.”
She cocked her head. A silver earring glinted against the pale skin of her neck. “You don’t trust me.”
About as much as he trusted the king of Perseidia. “Not in the least.”
A small skirmish went on behind sea-blue eyes but finally she said, “Okay, agreed, as long as I can see him as often as I like.”
“Done.” He reached for the door handle and paused. “One thing, though, Sara, is not negotiable.”
She regarded him warily. “And that is?”
Calling upon four years of festered anger and bitterness, he said, “Nico is never to know you are the bitch that whelped him.”
The color, which had drained from her face, now surged forth, setting her delicate skin aflame. She raised a hand as if to strike him. He caught her wrist. “I think not.”
Long after Aleks left her alone, Sara sat at the window staring out at the magical country of Carvainia. Aleks’s country. Her baby’s country.
Emotional exhaustion made her limbs heavy so she could hardly lift her hands to swipe at the tears flowing down her cheeks.
Her baby was here. After the years of guilt and regret, she’d found him. All this time of worry and he’d been right here with his natural father. She was glad for that, though still astonished by the turn of events. Nothing Aleks said in explanation had made any sense. He claimed to have contacted her but she knew he hadn’t. And yet, how could he have known about the pregnancy? How could he have gotten custody of Nico?
Joy at finding her son intermingled with the loss of years and the fear that he was deathly ill. Now that she’d found him again, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
She longed to go to his rooms and stay with him every minute of every day. But she knew without a doubt that if she tried to see him now, without Aleks’s permission, a host of staff would block her way.
And so she waited for him to return with the contract he insisted she sign. A contract. Dear heaven. What had happened to the man who’d claimed to love her?
She reached for a tissue and rubbed at eyes gone raw and hot. A sob slipped from her lips. Aleks had offered her money to help her own child. How low she had fallen in his eyes that he would believe such an offer was necessary. She would do anything to see Nico well. Her demands to see him were nothing more than a bluff though she’d been praying the entire time that Aleks would fall for it. Even if he’d refused, she would never have left this castle without doing all in her power to save her child’s life.
Part of her didn’t blame Aleks for despising her. Didn’t she despise herself for letting go when she might have found a way to keep their child? Wasn’t she haunted by a host of what-might-have-beens?
The door opened and Antonia entered carrying a tray. “You must eat something, Miss Sara. Lunch is long past.”
The young woman set the tray on the small round table at Sara’s elbow. Sara took one glance at the array of beautifully prepared finger foods and shook her head. “Thank you, Antonia. I’m not hungry.”
Antonia studied her with compassion. “You are upset, miss. Let me get some cucumber slices for the swelling in your eyes. And perhaps I could arrange a soothing massage and a spa treatment?”
Sara shook her head. No amount of pampering could soothe the ache in her heart. “Not now.”
Clearly wishing to provide service, but at a loss, Antonia lingered. Except for the attendant’s fidgety movements the suite was quiet, the sounds of activity outside the door silenced by the thick stone walls.
“A refreshing candle, then,” Antonia said.
The rasp of match against striker sawed at Sara’s raw nerve endings. A teardrop flame flared, and then the smell of sulfur mingled with the clean scent of vanilla.
“If you are certain you don’t require anything—”
“Nothing.” Sara lifted a limp hand, but the effort was too much and she let it fall to her lap. “Thanks.”
“If you should change your mind, please ring. Prince Aleksandre left specific orders that you are to have everything you desire.”
Yeah, right, anything but her son. Sara gave a short, joyless laugh. “Your Prince Aleksandre is a royal jerk.”
Antonia gasped and with a polite bow made a hasty exit, apparently disturbed that anyone would speak ill of the prince. Sara supposed she should be more careful. After all, this was not America. For all she knew, she may have just committed a crime punishable by stoning.
No, Aleks wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that for certain, not because of the love they’d once shared, but because he needed her.
She reached for a strawberry but didn’t eat it. How could she eat with this enormous wad of hope and fear and longing filling up her insides? When she could touch her son and hear his voice and see him smile, then she would be filled in a way that had nothing to do with food.
If only Aleks would hurry, but she knew he would not. He was no longer the kind and playful and fiercely protective man she remembered. He was a ruling prince, unyielding and cold. Perhaps the war had done that to him. She’d been shocked to hear that he’d fought beside his men, and yet her Aleks would have done exactly that.
Her Aleks. A bitter laugh escaped her, sounding loud in the large, quiet room. This Prince Aleksandre was not her Aleks.
Her Aleks had loved her, and she had loved him.
But she had to face the truth and her own culpability. She had killed his love by putting his son up for adoption.
She picked at the strawberry’s leafy cap.
A new fear crowded into an already overwhelmed mind.
Aleks had agreed to let her spend time with Nico now. But what would happen after the surgery, after Nico was well again?
Aleksandre d’Gabriel was the absolute law and ruler of Carvainia. She, a simple bookshop owner from Kansas, had no legal rights in this place. Once Aleks had what he wanted from her, would she ever see her son again?
Chapter Four
SARA SAT ON A PLUSH CHAIR at Nico’s bedside, waiting for her son to awaken. After two impatient hours with the doctors and a miserable thirty minutes hashing over the details of Aleks’s contract, she’d insisted on coming to Nico’s room.
“He sleeps most of the time,” Aleks had said, obviously trying to forestall her visit.
She’d hitched her stubborn chin. “Then I will watch him sleep.”
“I have a nation to run.”
After four years and thousands of miles, Sara was not about to let Aleks’s reluctance keep her away from her baby. He’d promised and he would deliver.
“The decision to be present was yours.”
Finally, he’d conceded and escorted her to this wing, which Sara understood to be a medical floor fully staffed for the royal family.
Both thrilled and terrified, but utterly determined to make up for lost time, she gazed at the sleeping baby face and waited. She may have appeared calm with her hands resting serenely in her lap, but her heart hammered and she could barely breathe.
The tension was magnified by the imposing ruler who stood like a stone sentry at the foot of Nico’s bed. Sara’s gaze flicked briefly to him. Jaw rigid, Aleks never even glanced her way. He treated her with cold courtesy and little else. She was grateful that his staff was more inclined toward friendliness. Though none of them voiced their knowledge of her unique situation, she was certain they at least suspected the reasons for her presence. Antonia knew Sara was the hoped-for organ donor. Beyond that, Sara had no idea what Aleks had told his employees about her.
Having only seen Nico briefly at birth, it was surreal to realize this was the baby she’d carried beneath her heart, the baby she’d mourned and hunted and prayed for. Over the years, she’d imagined what he would look like. She’d dreamed of finding him again, certain she would recognize her own son. She wouldn’t have. He was all Aleks and nothing of her.
And yet he was everything she’d dreamed and more.
At a movement from the pillows, Sara’s heart, already pounding out of her chest, galloped even harder. He was waking. She would meet him. Finally. She pressed her hands into her knees to keep from leaping from the chair and rushing forward.
Nico’s thick lashes fluttered upward. Glazed, feverish eyes locked on the man at the end of the bed. His thin face brightened. “Papa.”
That one small, breathy word held such power. Sara’s whole being heaved toward the sick child. And the hard and mighty ruler of Carvainia melted like butter left too long in the sun.
Aleks tweaked the boy’s sheet-covered toe. “Ah, the great and lazy Prince Nico has awakened.”
The joke must have been a familiar one for the child offered a feeble grin, his sick eyes twinkling. “A growing boy needs his rest.”
Aleks laughed softly. “Indeed. A growing boy also needs food. Maria tells me you refused your meal.”
“Food tastes nasty, Papa.” His tone apologized as though he was aware of his father’s worry and sad to make it worse.
Aleks moved to the boy’s side. “I know, son, but you must try.” He touched Nico’s cheek. “Promise Papa you will try.”
Sara shared the pleading despair in Aleks’s voice. Nico was far too thin. His arms, resting along the sides of his body on top of the damask coverlet, were like sticks and his cheekbones stood out above the hollows of his face.
The small handsome head nodded. His tongue flicked over dry lips. “I promise.”
Carefully perching on the bed’s edge so that the mattress barely shifted, Aleks reached for a glass of water. “Have a drink for Papa.”
Gently cradling Nico’s head, the prince raised the boy enough for a few sips. Then he brushed a hand over Nico’s temple, smoothing bed-tumbled hair. “Do you feel like playing a game?”
“I’m a bit tired, Papa.” For indeed, he seemed to have expended all his energy on a simple drink of water.
Aleks’s chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. He patted the child’s fragile chest and sat back in the chair, shoulders angled toward Sara. Her pulse leaped.
“I don’t want to tire him,” she murmured through dry lips. Her son was desperately ill and conversation took so much out of his frail body.
Aleks’s gaze, so warm and tender with Nico, frosted over. “Come.”
As she stood, her knees trembled in tandem with her emotions. “Maybe we should do this later. I’m content to watch him sleep.”
His Majesty didn’t look as though he bought that. He turned back to the boy. “Someone has come to say hello.”
Sara stepped closer and with the movement brushed Aleks’s knees. Once upon a time he would have pulled her onto his lap, and she would have gone willingly for kisses and laughter. Today, he shifted away as though her touch was poison. Shoulders tense and mouth grim, animosity flowed from him. Surely, Nico would feel the tension and be put off by it.
She longed to touch him, both of them, and to make them understand how sorry she was for everything. She’d made a terrible mistake in letting Nico go, but she’d also paid a terrible price. Couldn’t Aleks see that? She’d lost everything that mattered—him, her baby.
The beautiful little prince was flesh of her flesh and yet she did not know him at all. The pain of that truth would burn forever.
“Hello, Nico,” she said, amazed to sound so normal. “My name is Sara. I’m—”
As though afraid of what she’d say, Aleks interrupted. “Sara is someone I knew in America.”
Nico’s dark eyes swung up to hers. “You were my father’s friend at university?”
So sweet. So innocent. So unaware of the painful alliance between his father and herself.
A lump formed in her throat. She cleared it. “Yes.”
“Papa, did you tell me about Sara? I don’t remember her in your stories.”
Aleks shifted uncomfortably, but he kept his tone light. “Remember the girl who capsized the boat and dumped me into the river?”
Sara stared at him, stunned. He’d spoken of her to Nico? But Aleks’s expression was as hard as his jaw. If he remembered the time fondly, he wasn’t about to let her know.
Nico giggled. “That was you?”
“Yes, that was me,” she said, delighted to have found common ground. “I wasn’t the best swimmer.”
“And Papa had to save you.” Nico’s voice was weak, but he seemed to relish casting his father as a hero.
“Yes. You should have seen him. We were both laughing so hard, I think I nearly drowned him.”
“Papa said you spilled the picnic basket, too.”
“I’m afraid so. Your poor Papa went without lunch except for the chocolate bar we shared.”
They’d shared a great deal more than chocolate that weekend. A master boatman, Aleks had wanted to canoe the mighty Mississippi River, so they’d driven to St. Louis for the day and wound up spending the weekend. Sara had often wondered if she’d gotten pregnant during those magical two days before Aleks suddenly and completely disappeared from her life.
Overtaken by nostalgia, she turned to look at Aleks.
Abruptly he pushed up from the bed’s edge and stepped away. “This little trip down memory lane has been fun, but I think we should let Nico rest now.”
The interruption shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did sting. That Aleks despised her and any memory of their time together was painfully clear.
But he was also correct. The boy was visibly fading. With no forethought, Sara touched Nico’s forehead. He was too warm, but touching him was a salve for her soul. This was her baby. Her son! She couldn’t get over the thrill of it.
“Your Papa is right. You must rest and get well so you can someday have your own wonderful adventures.”
Nico’s eyelids drooped but he struggled to keep them open.
“Will you be here after my nap? And tell me about America? Papa liked America very much.”
Sara looked to the man in charge and held his frigid gaze in challenge. If his feelings about America had anything to do with her, she would never know. “I will be back, Nico. I promise.”
Aleks glared at her for one long moment, then bent low to kiss the boy’s forehead and softly murmur something. By the time he straightened, Nico’s eyes were closed.
Still the ruler prince did not move. He stared into the face of his son with an expression of love and sorrow and longing.
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