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The Prince’s

Pregnant Bride

Jennifer Lewis

Billionaire

Baby Dilemma

Barbara Dunlop

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Prince’s

Pregnant Bride

Jennifer Lewis

“You think they expect us to sleep together?”

He tilted his head and held her gaze. “Probably, yes.” She nodded.

He lifted a brow. Heat flared in his groin. “Do you think we should?”

Her cheek heated under his thumb. “Yes, I do.” Her voice was low, breathy.

AJ blinked. He’d not expected that answer. In fact, he’d had no intention of doing more than kissing her.

But since he was a healthy male, he rose from the sofa and took her hand. “Then I guess we’d better go into the bedroom.”

Dear Reader,

This story is the first of three books about Royal Rebels, strong men already successful in their chosen field, who find themselves unexpectedly thrust on to the throne of their ancestral homeland.

The germ of inspiration for the series came when the Desire™ editors asked me to write Prince of Midtown, in 2008. I’m not sure I’d have ever considered writing a royal of my own accord—I’m a big fan of democracy—but I loved the process of creating my energetic and charming prince and his romantic Mediterranean homeland.

The enthusiastic reader mail I received for that book made it clear that there’s something irresistible about a royal hero. Perhaps it’s the limitless wealth, and the power and influence beyond most of our wildest dreams.

Or maybe the sense of honour that comes with accepting duties you’ve been born to. Either way, I couldn’t resist writing more royal heroes.

This first story takes place in the palm-shaded island of Rahiri, where I had fun creating a lush Pacific paradise for my king to rule along with his lovely queen—if they can just find their way to that happy ending. I hope you enjoy AJ and Lani’s story.

Jen

About the Author

JENNIFER LEWIS has been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember and is thrilled to be able to share them with readers. She has lived on both sides of the Atlantic and worked in media and the arts before she grew bold enough to put pen to paper. Happily settled in England with her family, she would love to hear from readers at jen@jenlewis.com. Visit her website at www.jenlewis.com.

For Sue, my fun and generous friend and neighbour,

who helps make living here such a pleasure.

Acknowledgements:

Many thanks to the lovely people who read this book

while I was writing it—Anne, Cynthia, Jerri, Leeanne,

my agent Andrea and my editor Charles.

One

“What do you mean I have to marry her?” AJ Rahia tried to keep his voice down. Waiters passed out champagne, and the polite hum of conversation buzzed in his ears. The woman in question stood only a few yards away, in the well-dressed crowd of mourners at the wake.

His mother took his hand between her two soft ones. “It’s your duty. If the king dies, one of his brothers must marry the royal widow.”

The carved walls of the old palace seemed to close in on him. “That’s ridiculous. It’s the twenty-first century. And I’m sure she doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry her.” He resisted the urge to turn and glance at the petite young widow he hadn’t even seen since her wedding five years earlier.

His mother tilted her head and spoke softly. “She’s as sweet as she is beautiful.”

“Mom!”

“And I have no other sons.”

AJ stiffened. Something had happened during his own birth that left his mom unable to have more children. Just another burden of guilt that settled uncomfortably back on his shoulders each time he returned to Rahiri.

He’d just arrived for his brother’s funeral—or whatever you called it when there was no body—and already his ticket back to L.A. was burning a hole in his pocket.

“I’m sure she’ll want to mourn for at least a year before she thinks about marrying again.” He rested his hand on his mom’s shoulder. She was so tiny. Or he was so huge. He resisted a powerful urge to hug this very demanding but fiercely loving woman. “Then you’ll find the perfect husband for her.”

“You can’t choose a king.” His mother looked up, her eyes imploring. “A king is born.”

“And I wasn’t born to be king. Most people are convinced I was born to direct big-budget action movies, which is why they give me so much money for it.”

His mom waved her hand, dismissive. “Child’s play and you know it.” She took his hand and squeezed it between her palms. “Come home. You belong here, and we need you.”

He ignored the tightening in his chest. “To rule the country? I don’t think so. How about Cousin Ainu? He’s always trying to run everything. He’d be thrilled.”

His mom narrowed her eyes, which caused her mascaraed lashes to clump together. “The Rahia family has ruled Rahiri for as long as anyone can remember. That chain of tradition cannot be broken.”

“Change can be good.” He didn’t sound as convincing as he’d hoped. “Out with the old, in with the…” He stopped in horror as his mom’s usually sharp black eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean that Vanu’s death was… was…”

A good thing?

Though it had been his first thought when he’d heard the news.

On the other hand, if he was suddenly expected to fill his brother’s narrow designer shoes, it was a very bad thing.

“I know, sweetheart. You can’t help speaking your thoughts. You were always like that, wild, free-spirited—”

“And totally unsuitable to be a monarch.”

He wasn’t quite such a wild child as his reputation suggested, but the image could work in his favor now.

“Come talk to Lani.” His mom’s lipsticked smile did nothing to mask the steely determination in her eyes. AJ glanced around. Hopefully none of the gathered mourners had any idea of her intentions. Especially his brother’s widow.

She pulled him across the room with a pincer grip on his hand, pink nails digging into his flesh. “Lani, dear, you remember AJ? Vanu’s younger brother.”

Panic flashed in the young woman’s eyes. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “Yes, of course I do. Pleased to meet you again.” A forced smile quivered on her lips.

She knew.

And was horrified.

AJ extended his hand and shook hers. Her fingers trembled against his palm. Small and slight, she was wrapped in a traditional blue mourning dress, partially covered by her long, loose hair. He’d remembered her unusual eyes—gold-brown, like polished tortoise-shell—but not the haunted look in them.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He glanced away from her face, which was polite in Rahiian tradition. And good advice in any case because Lani Rahia was an extraordinary beauty.

Clear, fine features mingled her Rahiian and American heritage. Her skin glowed like the proverbial milk and honey. Her thick, lustrous hair looked brown in ordinary light, but if touched by sunshine it shone brilliantly as pure, twenty-four carat gold.

He could see why his brother—or was it his mother who had truly chosen her?—had picked Lani as queen despite her humble background.

But he had no intention of being her king.

Lani pulled her hand back fast and wiped it on her dress before she could stop herself. That handshake was supposed to preface intimacies that made her stomach turn.

She was expected to marry this man simply because he was her husband’s younger brother.

At least he had the good grace not to stare her in the eyes the way most Americans thought normal. He wasn’t American, of course, but she felt too fragile to meet anyone’s gaze for long. He’d lived in L.A. the entire time she’d been at the palace.

Taller than his brother, she noticed. And broader, too. In the glimpse she’d caught of his face he looked kind.

But she knew only too well that appearances could be deceptive.

“Vanu’s disappearance must have been a terrible shock.” The deep voice hung in the air, since it took a moment for Lani to emerge from her frenzied thoughts to realize he’d spoken.

“Oh, yes. Terrible. He went out late one night—to think, he said—and he never came back.”

She’d lain in bed, shaking with terror, waiting for him to return and “finish the job.” He’d said he would, with that cruel hiss in his voice and a cold gleam in his eyes. The hours had ticked by as she awaited her doom.

Then the sun rose, and the birds started to sing.

“It must be so hard not knowing what happened.” She heard compassion in AJ’s voice. What kind of name was AJ? She didn’t even know his real Rahiian name. No one ever called him by it.

“We still don’t know what happened.” Lani’s mother-in-law dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “But after ninety days—” She pressed a muffled sob into the linen. “A successor must be chosen.”

Lani stiffened. According to Rahiian tradition, the successor would take her as his wife. Presumably the tradition existed to provide protection for the children of royal widows and avoid jostling for succession between children and siblings of the late king. But she didn’t have any children.

“Ninety days… that’s still at least a month away. Who would normally succeed, if the king had no siblings?” AJ asked his mother.

She dabbed at her eyes. “Impossible. The king always has siblings. The ability to bear many children is a Rahiian blessing.” She coughed a sob into her handkerchief.

Lani glanced at AJ, whose brow furrowed with distress. “Mom, don’t upset yourself. Please. We’ll get it all figured out. Don’t you worry.”

He slid his big arm around his mother’s back and rubbed her shoulder. Lani felt a flush of warmth at the kind gesture.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His mother smiled at AJ. “Why don’t you take Lani out on the veranda for a rest? I’m sure she’s exhausted after the funeral and having to talk with all these people.”

The big man glanced at Lani. She swallowed. She’d rather be here in this frying pan of semi-strangers than alone, in private, with her… future husband.

Surely they wouldn’t make her go through with it?

“Would you like to, er…” He extended his arm, inviting her to take it.

Lani fought the urge to recoil and reached her fingers up to his. His forearm was thickly muscled, not hard and wiry like her husband’s—her late husband’s. Her skin tingled with awareness—or was it terror?—as she slid her arm into his.

He cleared his throat. “Please excuse us.” He nodded to her mother.

“Of course.” His mother’s smile broadened as she no doubt saw her plans moving one step closer to completion.

Lani tried to maintain a neutral expression as they walked slowly across the room together. Did all these people expect her to marry this man? Were they eagerly looking for signs of fresh commitment when her husband was barely cold in his grave?

Technically he wasn’t in a grave at all, since they’d never found a body. Or his boat.

“Sorry about my mother,” AJ murmured as they stepped out into a cool, empty hallway. His voice echoed slightly off the white stone floor. AJ pulled back his arm, and hers fell to her side. A small blue parrot stared at them from his perch in the latticework.

“She’s just doing what she thinks is best.” She glanced at him, trying to gauge his feelings.

“Do you think it’s for the best?” He frowned, and peered at her. His eyes were a warm dark brown, like polished teak.

“I don’t know.” Her voice came out a choked whisper. “I’m inexperienced in these matters.” And not about to defy a thousand years of royal tradition in the face of a Rahiian prince. If he was anything like his brother, he’d let her know his disapproval in the harshest terms possible.

“You’re a grown woman. Do you think it’s natural to marry a total stranger?”

His question embarrassed her. “I only met Vanu three times before I married him.”

“Let me guess, my mom fixed up the whole thing.” He raised a straight black brow.

Lani nodded. Her long hair felt hot on the back of her neck and she wished she could run to her room for a good cry.

And not over the death—or supposed death—of her husband. For herself, and the no-win situation she faced: another unhappy royal marriage, or disgrace and dishonor for refusing it. Tears pricked her eyes and she raised a hand to cover them.

“Please don’t cry.” AJ’s gruff plea rang off the wood-beamed ceiling. “Come on, let’s go sit on the veranda. Some fresh air will do us both good.”

His words were supposed to be funny, since the hall they walked along was open to the gardens, like nearly every room in the sprawling palace. Carved wood cast shade and the high roof kept out tropical rain, but birds and pretty lizards darted freely amongst the ornate columns.

Yet the air itself seemed oppressive, thick with expectation.

AJ Rahia was tall, well over six feet, and her head barely reached his shoulders. Her small steps, bound by the long wrap of her skirt, made her scurry to keep up with his bold strides. He noticed, and stopped to wait for her.

He wore a dark suit, American-style, and must have been hot in the tropical humidity. “Would you like a cool drink?” She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to hear any hint of suggestion beyond mere politeness.

“No, thanks. Listen, it’s not personal. I’m sure you’re a very nice girl. I’ve just got a life in the States. I direct movies—”

“I know,” she rushed. “Your mother is very proud. She watches the whole Dragon Chaser series at least once a month.”

He stopped dead. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. She installed a complete home theater system in the old feasting chamber last year for better stereo sound.”

AJ’s eyes widened. “She’s never said a word.”

“She’s a big fan.” Lani couldn’t help the tiny smile that sneaked across her mouth. He looked so totally astonished. “She loves the lead actor, too. She thinks he’s cute.”

“Devi Anderson? Cute!” AJ burst out into a loud guffaw. “I swear, nothing could surprise me more. Well….” His brows lowered. “Except that I’m expected to marry you.”

Lani swallowed. She lifted her hair off her neck and rearranged it down her back, her eyes glued to the floor. Should she apologize for being a burden? It was hardly her fault.

And he might take it the wrong way.

He didn’t look anything like his brother, but that didn’t mean he didn’t share the same twisted soul. That he wouldn’t lash out when she least expected it.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t keep bringing it up.” He frowned and turned away. “It’s just so… ridiculous. And I have a big investor meeting on Tuesday I must get back for.”

A tiny flame of hope lit in Lani’s chest. He really didn’t plan to stay and marry her. He obviously didn’t want to. She should be offended, but instead she felt relief.

Even if she didn’t believe in true love any more, she’d had enough of marriage for one lifetime.

They’d reached the veranda, where big armchairs nestled under palm fronds with a view over the forested Haialia valley. They sat in two chairs separated by a carved-wood table.

“What do you think happened to Vanu?” AJ turned to look at her.

She shrank from his inquisitive gaze. “One of the boats went missing from the palace dock. A small yacht he used to sail sometimes. Some say he might have taken it out. There was a storm that night.” She swallowed. Images of Vanu disappearing into the dark sea crowded her brain.

“If there was a storm the boat could have broken free by itself. They do that quite often. The palace dock isn’t well protected.” AJ wove his long fingers together and looked out over the valley.

“I know, but the island isn’t that big and everyone’s been searching for him for weeks. He must have left.”

She bit her lip. “And he didn’t take a plane. They’re all accounted for.”

“Why did he go out in a storm?” AJ’s eyes rested on her cheek.

Which heated. No one could know the truth. Her marriage was over now and there was no reason for anyone to know that it had been… hell on earth.

She owed that much to her mother-in-law, who’d done everything to welcome her as a daughter and who worshipped and loved her eldest son.

“I think he was restless. Couldn’t sleep.” She fixed her eyes on the horizon, where rainforest haze hung just above the treetops. “He often walked in the gardens late at night. He didn’t sleep much.”

“Yeah. He was like that as a boy, too. It sometimes seemed like he never slept.”

An odd tone in AJ’s voice made her glance at him. His brow was furrowed in a frown. He must miss Vanu, the older brother he’d never see again.

AJ’s face was undeniably handsome, with broad, well-cut cheekbones and a slightly cleft chin. His mouth was wide and friendly. So different from his brother’s pinched, bony countenance.

She’d married Vanu because she had to. That’s what everyone said. What simple village girl—the daughter of a laundress, no less—would turn down a chance to be queen?

She didn’t have a good answer at the time.

“How’s my mom taking it?” AJ’s frown deepened.

“Very hard.” Lani twisted her fingers together. “She cries a lot, and that’s not like her.”

“It’s a terrible thing to lose a child.” AJ rubbed a hand over his mouth. “At least she has you. I know she adores you.”

Lani pushed a smile to her lips. “She’s been so kind to me. Everyone has.” Well, except Vanu.

“So if I take off back to L.A., I imagine you’ll rule as queen.”

Lani sat bolt upright. “Me? I can’t. I’m not royal.”

“You may not have been born royal, but you’re already queen, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Humor danced in his dark eyes.

“Technically speaking, but not really. I’m just a village girl.”

“I thought you were born in New Jersey.” He raised a brow.

“My parents divorced when I was seven, and my mom moved back to Rahiri.” People tried to make more than they should of her foreign birth and the fact that she was half-American. It gave her unusual features and coloring, nothing more.

“You seem more educated than the average village girl.” His penetrating gaze made her belly tighten.

“We have good schools here. Your father saw to that when he was king. Many of our teachers received scholarships to study abroad, and brought their knowledge back to Rahiri.”

“But your father’s a professor, isn’t he?” AJ leaned closer, until his masculine scent tickled her nostrils.

What was he trying to prove?

“Of geology. He encouraged me in my studies, and I was going to read history at the university, but I left my studies when I became queen.”

Vanu hadn’t liked to see her with her head in a book. He said such a pretty head should be completely empty.

“You should start again. Why not?” He shrugged.

“I never had the patience for school. I’m at my best running around on a set.” “You’re happy in L.A.?”

“Ecstatically so. I can honestly say I don’t miss Rahiri one bit.”

“Your mom misses you.”

“I know. That’s why she comes up with so many excuses for shopping trips to Rodeo Drive.” He grinned. “I enjoy her visits and I think she single-handedly keeps the U.S. economy afloat.”

“Is this your first visit to Rahiri since the wedding?”

“Yes. Maybe I should feel bad, but I’m busy and I don’t fit in here.” He pushed a hand through his thick black hair and leaned back in the woven armchair. The heavy muscling of his body was visible even inside his dark suit.

She was still surprised that he hadn’t visited once. And they expected him to become king?

Not very likely. Which meant she was off the hook as his wife.

She blew out a long, slow, silent breath. The sooner he left, the better.

“It is beautiful here, though.” He stared out at the mist-shrouded horizon, a crevice of gold and blue sky nestled between rainforest-covered hills. A toucan flew up into a nearby baobab tree, its bright beak held aloft. “I’d forgotten how beautiful it is.”

His mom’s quest to convince him to stay continued unrelentingly over the following days and nights.

“Here, sweetheart, have some coconut stars.” Her favorite treat hovered under AJ’s nose on their tooled silver platter.

“No, thanks, Mom, really.” After three days of funerary feasting, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to eat again. “Did I tell you my plane leaves at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow? “

“What?” Her eyes widened with horror. “You can’t. You’ve barely had time to get to know Lani.”

He glanced around, making sure the woman in question was nowhere nearby. “I’ve spent hours and hours with her. She’s sweet.”

“And she’ll be a good queen, with you as her king.” His mom folded her arms. Her gold bangles clinked together.

“Not possible.”

“Not only is it possible, it is inevitable.” Steel shimmered in his mom’s voice and gleamed in her eyes. “Although it took a tragedy to bring you together, you and Lani are destined to be together.”

“I’m destined to begin post-production on Hellcat Four: The Aftermath in three weeks’ time. And after that, if the funding comes together, I’ll be making Dragon Chaser part five.”

His mom waved her hand, jangling her bracelets. “Part four, part five. What will it matter if there are so many already? There is only one Rahiri, and you are our ruler.”

“People are counting on me. There’s a lot at stake.”

“My sentiments exactly.” She leaned in, giving him a whiff of her familiar honeysuckle perfume. “We’re all counting on you. I am counting on you.”

AJ’s back tightened. No one here had counted on him for anything before. He wasn’t the heir, the chosen one. Now suddenly everything had changed, but he was still the same person inside.

His mom grabbed his arm. “Here comes Lani. Don’t tell her you’re leaving. You’re not leaving.”

AJ jerked his arm back. “I’m leaving. But I’ll be nice to Lani before I go.”

He smiled at the stunning young widow as she walked into the room, her embroidered pale-gold dress gleaming in the candlelight. Gold earrings glittered in her lobes and a ruby hovered at her throat. Decked out for sacrifice.

His stomach turned that she was so willing to go along with his mother’s foolish plot. Did she have no spine? Did she want no say in the choice of her future husband?

“Hey, Lani.”

“Hello, AJ.” Her head dipped slightly, deferential, which annoyed him all the more. He liked women with some spunk, some fire.

“Come with me.” He threaded his arm though hers and led her from the room. Away from his mother’s anxious ears.

He ignored a flicker of heat from the touch of his skin against hers. He could not possibly be attracted to this shrinking violet barely out of another man’s arms.

They walked through a high doorway and out into a palace courtyard ringed with potted palms. “You’re too nice, you know.”

“I… I…” Her hesitation irked him further.

“Can’t you say anything for yourself, can’t you speak your mind?” His growl startled her.

She glanced up, honey-colored eyes wide. Was she afraid of him?

“I’m sorry.” She bit her full, pink lip. A flash of heat to his groin sent a surge of fury through AJ. Just because she had a pretty face did not mean she’d make a good wife. Maybe she deserved to be married off to some stranger.

A silky lock of gold-hued hair fell forward as she hung her head.

He had no interest in how that hair would feel under his palms, or trailing over his chest as she crouched over him, maybe panting slightly, golden eyes wide with desire.

Because that would never happen.

He scowled and turned away. “I’m flying out tomorrow. You’re on your own, sister.”

“What?” Her voice rang across the room, high and breathless.

He spun around to face her. “You heard me. I’m done playing my part in this charade. You and I have nothing whatsoever in common, and I have no intention of sacrificing both our lives on the altar of Rahiian tradition. I’m going back to my real life.”

She blinked, speechless. Hardly a surprise. She didn’t have much to say for herself at the best of times. But her cheeks reddened. “You dislike me.”

Her words sent a fist of guilt to AJ’s gut. She hadn’t actually done anything wrong, after all. She’d been trying so hard to be a sweet Rahiian maiden.

Shame he couldn’t stand sweet Rahiian maidens.

Her ruby shone bloodred at her throat. Set in an ornate gold setting, the royal jewel had probably been worn by many sacrificial lambs before her. He pitied and despised these women, so ready to give their whole lives to the service of a man. For a country that didn’t care if they lived or died.

He stared down at her—she barely came up to his shoulder—and cocked his head. “You’re too… nice.”

“I’m not nice at all. Really.” The words rushed out. Was she so afraid of failing in her royal duty? “I mean, I try to be, but…”

Words failed her once again. The pink flush of her cheeks gave the inappropriate impression that she was aroused. Her lips, parted in protest, looked full and ripe, ready for kissing. The look in her eyes, glossy with terror, could easily be mistaken for a gaze shimmering with need. Desire crept over him like the tropical heat, uncoiling in his belly, unfurling along with his fury over this crazy situation.

For once he wanted this girl to give him an honest reaction. He was letting her down. Screwing her over. Just once he wanted to hear her words ring harsh in the air, sense her anger pulse on the night breeze, or maybe even feel that small hand slap him hard across the face.

Then maybe he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

Surely she had a dark side. Everyone did.

He took a step forward, pulled her into his arms and crushed his mouth over hers.

For a second Lani froze, and he half braced for her reaction.

Then her arms stretched around his back and her slim body molded to his. Her mouth softened, opened to welcome his kiss. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back and drew him closer, until her breasts crushed against his chest.

Surprise and sharp lust flashed through AJ. Lani was kissing him back—hard. Her breath came in unsteady gasps. Heat pulsed between them, urging their heartbeats into a fevered dance. A tiny moan quivered in Lani’s throat as he thickened against her, his desire provoking a fierce arousal.

This was not the response he’d expected.

Two

He pulled away first. Lani’s hand flew to her lips, left suddenly cold and bare. She didn’t want to open her eyes but she forced herself. AJ’s dark gaze fixed on hers, wide with—shock. What just happened?

He’d initiated the kiss, his action deliberate, forceful even. But she couldn’t shake the impression that he hadn’t wanted to kiss her.

Her lips still stung and tingled with stray pulses of energy. Her nipples pressed against the crisp fabric of her dress, above her pounding heart. The hand now pressed against her mouth—hot with her own unsteady breaths—had just a moment ago been fisted into his shirt, clutching at his thick muscles.

Shame flushed through her in a hot wave. He must have kissed her out of a sense of responsibility, to prove he could step into the role everyone expected of him, whether he liked it or not.

And she’d responded in a way that was anything but dutiful.

Was she going mad? She gulped. Her body felt hot, thick with unfamiliar sensation. She couldn’t bring herself to glance at AJ again. He hadn’t moved an inch since he’d pushed her away.

He’d had to push her away, to stop her clinging closer and tighter, pressing his body to hers with a fierce grip. At her own husband’s funeral.

Or whatever you called a funeral without a body.

She must be mad. There was no other explanation. Should she apologize? Anger flashed inside her. He’d taken the kiss—stolen it—so anything it led to was his fault.

Still, no one would have expected her to respond with… desperation.

He’d thought she was too nice. Now he knew she was anything but.

Her face heated and she glanced up. AJ shoved a hand through his thick, black hair. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak.

I’m sorry. The words hovered on her tongue for a single instant—automatic, a learned response—before she swallowed them, bitter and tasteless. She didn’t owe him an apology. She didn’t owe her late husband one, either, for that matter. These powerful men took what they wanted, without a thought for those they took them from. Which is why she didn’t want to marry again—especially not another Rahia.

Her treacherous thoughts pounded in her brain like a headache. If he knew what she was thinking he’d…

Lani gathered her skirt and rushed for the door.

AJ stared after Lani as her gold dress disappeared through the carved archway. He hadn’t said anything to stop her, since he couldn’t think of what to say. He had no idea what to even think. If his mom knew they’d shared such a steamy kiss, she’d probably be over the moon. Or would she be scandalized that it had happened before the funeral feasts were even finished?

He blew out a hard blast of air. He’d expected her to squeal and slap him. To defend her virtue and hurl angry words in his face. To hate him.

Which was his intention. Then she wouldn’t want him to do his duty and marry her. He’d be off the hook.

Instead she’d seemed to… enjoy the kiss.

He shook his head, trying to shake loose a sensible thought. Maybe she’d faked it. As a royal wife—especially his brother’s wife—she must have had plenty of practice faking pleasure when she didn’t feel it.

Still…

The way her fingers had clawed at his back. How her mouth had opened to welcome his, her sweet breath hot on his tongue. He’d even heard a tiny moan, like the cry of a bird, newly uncaged, escape her throat before he came to his senses and pulled back.

His stiff suit barely hid the reaction she’d provoked in his body. His blood seemed ten degrees hotter and his fingertips prickled with stray urges. Probably the urge to rip off that expensive gold dress and sink into the soft flesh beneath.

He hurled a curse. How could he think such a thing about his brother’s wife? He hadn’t wanted to come back here, and this was a perfect example of why. He lived a nice, sensible life in L.A.—well, by L.A. standards—where things like this just didn’t happen.

Still… he’d dated more than his fair share of women and he’d never been kissed like that before. Curiosity mingled with the lust thickening in his blood. There was clearly a lot more to Lani Rahia than he’d expected.

That night, AJ sat three seats away from Lani at an official state banquet observing his brother’s passing. Dressed in mourning blue, with an elaborate gold necklace that probably weighed more than she did, she looked every bit the royal widow.

Ears pricked, he listened for her voice. She barely spoke, though, only offering polite morsels of conversation when necessary. When he glanced her way, her lips were pressed together, as if trying to keep something in—or perhaps, after this afternoon, to keep something out.

He attempted to hold up his end of the conversation with an elderly member of the royal guard who shamelessly checked international cricket scores on his phone in between courses. By the time dessert was served, AJ had resolved to corner Lani and ask her what happened this afternoon.

His plan was thwarted when Lani vanished halfway through the fish course. There was some commotion, and a footman went to help her to her room.

He turned to his mother, seated diagonally across the table. “What’s going on? Where’s Lani gone?”

She patted her lips with a napkin. “Not feeling well. Poor Lani’s taken Vanu’s death so badly. She’s been in and out of bed since he disappeared.” She reached over and patted his arm. “I’m glad you care. She’s a sweet girl.”

AJ cleared his throat. “I’m sure she is.”

“Perhaps you could go look in on her after dinner.” A thoughtful smile crossed her lips. “Just to see if she’s comfortable.”

“I’ll do that.” Had grief caused her unexpected response earlier? He shuddered with revulsion at the sudden idea that she’d mistake him for his dead brother. Did her disappearance from dinner have anything to do with their unexpectedly passionate kiss?

Either way, he wanted to know more.

Lani slammed her bedroom door closed and leaned against it. Alone. It wasn’t easy to get even one minute by yourself in a royal palace. Nausea rose inside her like a wave, and she planted her feet on the floor to ride it out. Was it guilt that drove this sickness to surge and torment her day and night?

Or something else?

She listened for footsteps. No sound except the evening song of insects in the gardens outside. Now was the perfect time. Everyone in the palace was either eating at the banquet, or waiting on the diners. Even her mother-in-law, who hovered over her day and night, wouldn’t leave her guests until the meal was done.

Lani crept across the room and switched on the light in the adjoining bathroom. It gleamed with the rich gold-veined marble and the solid-gold taps Vanu had installed. He’d loved to luxuriate in the bath while she massaged the knotted sinews of his arms and back. It was still hard to believe he’d never glare at her from across the room and hurl an unreasonable demand again.

Guilt snaked through her. She shouldn’t think such thoughts about the dead. It was bad luck, if nothing else.

She crept into the small private changing room where she kept her personal items. Buried among the tampons she knew no one would disturb was a prize she’d gone to great lengths to obtain.

She held her breath as she fished inside the box and felt for the packet. Her fingers stung with fear as they rested on its plastic cover. She glanced over her shoulder before she pulled it out, then she ripped open the packet and reached for the printed instructions inside.

Another wave of nausea blurred her eyes and made her clutch at the nearby wall, fingernails scraping on the hard, carved stone. Then she drew a deep breath. Better get it over with.

Hold stick in stream of urine. Place on level surface for thirty seconds. Plus sign indicates a positive result. Minus sign indicates a negative result, she read from the package.

Stomach clenched and hands shaking, she followed the instructions, then paced the large bathroom while she waited for the results. How odd that she’d wanted a child so much when they first married. Dreamed of holding her son or daughter in her arms and lavishing him or her with kisses and smiles.

Then when Vanu had revealed himself to be heartless, soulless, she’d prayed to remain empty so no child would have to grow up with a father like him.

It was easy; Vanu rarely touched her. If anything, he seemed repulsed by her body, by her very femininity. They hadn’t been intimate for at least two years until that last night, when she’d told him exactly what she thought of him, and he’d taken her by force.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. The pink stick must have revealed its answer by now, but she didn’t dare look. If the result was negative, then she’d done her duty as a royal wife and could maybe even slide back into the realm of ordinary people. If not, she could be the mother of a future king, a duty that would bind her for the rest of her life.

At first it hadn’t occurred to her that she could be pregnant. Vanu had taken to berating her for her infertility and inability to produce an heir. He took pleasure in taunting her with this, even when conception was technically impossible because they never had sex. She’d almost started to believe his lies.

When he went missing she suffered bouts of sickness. At first she’d assumed them to be guilt-related. If she hadn’t confronted him, he wouldn’t have stalked off into the night. She’d told no one she was responsible for his disappearance.

As the weeks went on, her illness had been accompanied by other disturbing symptoms—moodiness, sensitive nipples and a slight thickening at her waist. No one else had noticed, but she could no longer pass these things off as “guilt” and she knew for sure they weren’t from grief, as others might have suspected.

She grabbed the stick and pulled it close, willing herself to be strong. A tiny pink cross filled the circle on the handle.

She was pregnant—with Vanu’s child.

She sank against the wall, breath coming in shallow gasps. What now?

A loud knock on the door made her jump. She shoved the stick into a pile of towels and rubbed the tear tracks from her eyes. “Who is it?”

“AJ.” His gruff voice penetrated the heavy wood.

“I’m, er, unwell.”

“I know. That’s why I came.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

“Let me in. Please. Just for a moment.”

Lani hesitated. AJ might be a hard-partying Hollywood director, but he was also next in line to the Rahiian throne. She couldn’t ignore him.

She glanced in the mirror and attempted to compose the stricken face that greeted her. She slapped her cheeks to bring back some color, tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear then hurried to the door.

AJ tapped his foot on the polished stone tile outside the door. Lani probably didn’t want visitors if she wasn’t feeling well, especially him. Bad enough that he was supposedly her unwilling future husband, but the events of earlier made the situation even more awkward. If she’d slapped his face and told him to get lost, everything would be going smoothly, but now.

Still, he needed to see her or he’d never sleep tonight.

The door creaked open, revealing a tiny sliver of Lani’s famously beautiful face.

“Have you been crying?” The question burst from his lips. She shook her head, lips pressed together. “You’re allowed to, you know. You are recently widowed.”

“I know.” Already fresh tears sprang up behind her dark lashes. “Sorry, it’s just been such a busy week with all the ceremonies.”

“You must be exhausted.” Though that didn’t explain the kiss. “I came to apologize for kissing you out of the blue like that.” He straightened his shoulders. Funny, he hadn’t come here to apologize, but the sight of her lovely face stained with tears had an uncomfortable effect on him. Even now, she was breathtaking, her long, golden brown hair streaming behind her shoulders and her lips soft and pink.

He cursed his physical reaction. Was this any way to behave with a grieving widow, even if you were supposed to marry her?

“I appreciate the apology.” She almost whispered it. “I know that technically you have nothing to apologize for, since I’m supposed to marry you, but it took me by surprise.”

“Took me by surprise, too.” A smile tried to spread across his lips but he fought it back. “I wasn’t expecting such an enthusiastic response.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve been through a lot lately. Too many emotions…” She trailed off, dropping her lashes to cover her eyes.

“And there I was taking it personally.” He reached out and touched her arm, which wasn’t easy since the door was barely open a foot. “Listen, no hard feelings. I meant what I said about leaving, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to jump into Vanu’s bed. I think I actually wanted to get you angry at me. I regret that.”

“No hard feelings.”

“You really are a sweet Rahiian maiden.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” She glanced up at him, and for a second he thought he saw a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Desire snapped through him and he fought a sudden urge to lean in and kiss her again.

“Are you sick?” He struggled to remember the reason he’d supposedly come here. Maybe he’d unwittingly hoped for another intoxicating kiss.

“Not really.” An odd expression flashed across her features—panic, almost. She glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting something frightening in the corridor. “I’ll be fine. I should get some sleep.” She grasped the door with her fingers, ready to close it.

“Would you like something from the kitchens?” He wasn’t ready to leave yet.

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I ate most of the meal.”

“A glass of wine, or something to help you unwind?”

Her eyes widened. “No, thanks.”

“Do you want to talk? I know it’s rough sometimes being a member of the royal family. You have to be on your best behavior all the time and can’t let your hair down.” He glanced at her impressive tresses. “And you have a lot of hair.”

For a second she looked like she might smile—or even invite him in—then she glanced over his shoulder again.

This time he turned around to see if there really was anything to look at. Nothing but stars winking through the carved openings in the corridor wall.

“There’s no one here. We’re alone, though I’m not sure how much comfort that is to you.” He smiled, trying to be reassuring. He had a weird feeling that she did want to say something.

Her lips twitched in an agonizingly sensual motion, and she blinked rapidly. “It was nice of you to come check on me. I’ll be fine.” Her tears had dried and her eyes shone again. Sad, but beautiful. “It’s been a long day.” She tilted her head slightly and looked at him though her lashes. “And I apologize for my role in the kiss. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No apology needed. And whatever came over you, it was rather lovely.” He flashed a smile, then an odd feeling swept through him. Another powerful urge to kiss her. Her skin looked so soft, shining in the lamplight, and he could smell her soft scent in the narrow space of the doorway. Her dark gaze seemed to call to him: Help me.

His lips met hers, hard and fast, but this time she pulled back and slammed the door. The wood bumped his forehead and sent him staggering back into the corridor, lips still buzzing from that lightning fast but incredibly powerful touch.

“Idiot.” He said the word aloud and smacked his head. What was he thinking? Still, did she have to slam the door like that?

He glanced around, relieved the corridor was still empty. What was it about this woman that made him act so crazy?

Lani ran back into the bathroom, where she closed and locked the door. It had been the one safe place where she could hide from Vanu—discounting the many hours they spent safely in public spaces—where she could lock the door and shut out his cruelty.

How odd—how awful—to now be hiding from his brother.

Or was she?

Her belly tingled with stray sensation—awareness of the swift touch of his fingers as he leaned in to kiss her. His lips had brushed hers for a split second, but seemed to have branded her with fire. If she hadn’t slammed the door so fast she’d have rushed into his arms.

Which meant that yes, she was hiding from him.

And she was hiding from her mother-in-law. She’d have to tell her about the pregnancy immediately, before it became any more obvious.

Just now she’d fought a strange, almost insane urge to tell AJ everything when he asked her if she wanted to talk. What wouldn’t she give to be able to confide in someone? To seek comfort in a pair of strong arms that wanted to soothe and comfort her rather than to hurt her.

Lani shivered. She’d been through so much in the past few years. Even though Vanu had rarely touched her, his tongue could bite hard as a lash. His brother was so different. Famous as a playboy, AJ seemed laid-back and warm, easy going and nonjudgmental. What would it be like to have a relationship with someone who genuinely liked people?

Not that she’d ever find out. Of course he wouldn’t stay. He had a life—a big, famous life—to get back to. Rahiri was a little speck of forested land in the middle of the wide Pacific to him. It wasn’t his home anymore.

For a split second she envied him his freedom. It must take some confidence to walk away from the royal family he’d been born into.

For the last few weeks she’d entertained thoughts of having a normal life, maybe even going back to New Jersey to visit her father and her two stepsisters who were now in high school. It would be fun to just, say, go to a mall and giggle over some shoes.

A long sigh slid from her mouth. After tonight’s news, that would never happen.

She reached down and pulled the stick out of its hiding place amongst the fresh towels. Yes, the little pink cross was still there, sealing her fate as the mother of the newest member of the royal Rahiian dynasty.

The next morning, after an almost completely sleepless night, Lani approached her mother-in-law at breakfast and asked if they could meet privately.

“Lani, you look terrible!” Priia Rahia took her daughter-in-law’s face in her hands. “We all loved Vanu, but you must take care of yourself. Eat some eggs, and some papaya.” She loaded the ripe fruit onto Lani’s plate. “And of course I’ll talk to you.” She gave a bright smile.

Much as Lani loved her mother-in-law, she could often hear the wheels turning behind Priia’s composed expression. She probably imagined this would be a private chat about her future relationship with AJ—a million miles away from her intended purpose.

Maybe something in her expression made Priia realize the situation was serious. “Come with me right now. Bring your breakfast and eat in my study.”

The older woman hooked her arm through Lani’s and guided her out past the stone-faced waiters. “Bring fresh tea,” she called behind her.

Marching down the hallway, her mother-in-law looked crisp and efficient as always, her black hair short and glossy, her traditional dress perfectly arranged over her neat, plump body. She projected an aura of calm and warmth that Lani had appreciated so much over the last few years, though that had been shaken by Vanu’s disappearance and presumed death.

Lani was shivering slightly by the time they reached the shell-pink sanctuary on the east side of the house. Morning sun streamed through the windows, illuminating her mother-in-law’s collection of bird statues and the traditional embroideries she made into cushions and wall hangings.

“Take a seat.” Priia pointed to a plush pink armchair. “Be sure to eat. You’ve looked pale lately. Are you feeling better?”

She swallowed. “A little.” She looked down at her plate; the contents looked inedible. “I’m not really sick.” Her heart started to pound. “I’ve just been feeling ill because…”

Priia tilted her head, expectant. Her lips pursed into a familiar smile. “What, dear?”

“I’m pregnant.” The words fell out on a sigh.

Priia’s eyes snapped open. “Did I hear you right? You’re expecting?”

Lani nodded, unable to push words past the lump in her throat. “I think so.” No need to mention that she’d taken a test. She had all the usual symptoms, anyway. “At first I thought it was stress over Vanu’s disappearance, but now I’m pretty sure it’s…” She glanced down at her stomach, which appeared flat beneath the green and blue pattern of her dress.

“A baby.” Priia clapped her hands together and a broad smile lit her face. “How marvelous!”

“Yes,” whispered Lani.

“A ray of light in our darkest hour.” Priia sprang to her feet and strode across the room. “A miracle.”

It didn’t really feel that way to Lani, which only added to her crippling burden of guilt. She should be happy. A baby was always a reason to celebrate in Rahiri.

Unless it was the child of your unloved and evil late husband.

“We must celebrate. We’ll plan a big party. What a marvelous way to move forward after the sad days of the funeral.” Priia was almost dancing around the room. “A baby! Our Vanu’s child will carry on his legacy here in the palace.”

Lani bit her lip. That’s what she was worried about. Which wasn’t fair. The innocent child might be nothing like Vanu at all. Everyone else in the royal family was warm and kind, including the father-in-law who’d died before she came.

“Oh, sweet little baby clothes. I must start embroidering right away.” Priia patted Lani’s cheek affectionately. “I wonder if he will have your lovely golden coloring. Or it could be a she.” She frowned. “Of course we won’t know for—” She grasped Lani’s arms. “How far along are you?”

“I’m not really sure.” She didn’t want to pinpoint the night Vanu disappeared, though that was certainly the date of conception. “A few weeks, at least. I’m just starting to show.”

“Oh, do let me look at you.” Priia snatched Lani’s untouched plate from her lap and tugged her to her feet. She patted the rumpled fabric over her belly. “I can’t feel much yet, but I took a while to show with my boys. We Rahias don’t have large babies, but they grow up to be big strong men.” Her beaming grin was almost infectious.

Almost. Lani struggled to look at least slightly happy about the circumstance, but instead her lip wanted to tremble.

“You’re worried, aren’t you? Scared.” Priia took Lani in her soft arms. Her expensive scent enveloped her for a moment. “I know it’s not easy having a baby when you’re a widow. The child reminds you of the man you’ve lost.”

Lani looked down. Her words were painfully true.

“But look on it as a wonderful chance to let him live again through his child.”

Please, no! Lani blinked rapidly, trying to keep her emotions in check.

Priia pressed a finger to her lips. “Though this does rather complicate things with AJ. It’s not easy for a man to raise another man’s child, even if it is his brother’s.”

“I don’t think AJ wants to marry me.” Lani said the words quickly.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s just gotten off track with this Hollywood business. He’ll realize that his duty lies with us in Rahiri.” Her mother-in-law’s face grew serious. “Oh, my goodness.”

“What?” Lani’s chest grew tight at the look of alarm in Priia’s dark eyes.

“According to our laws of succession, the baby is next in line to the throne.” She stared at Lani, her face growing pale.

Thoughts clicked into place. “So AJ doesn’t inherit the throne.”

“Not if Vanu has a child.” Priia bustled across the room and stared out the window toward the forest. Then she spun around. “Oh, I do so want AJ back home with us. He was so unsettled as a child, always jealous of Vanu and in a rush to get away. I’m sure things would be different now that he’s grown and matured. Now that my husband and oldest son are gone, it would warm my heart to have my youngest son here with us. And I do believe he’d be a very good husband to you.”

Lani remained silent. A stray memory of his lips on hers assaulted her and caused color to rise to her cheeks. She had no idea what kind of husband AJ would be, and she’d rather not find out—kiss or no kiss. Vanu was enough husband for one lifetime.

Priia’s expression hardened. “Don’t say anything. Don’t mention the baby.”

“To AJ?”

“To anyone.” She gripped Lani’s wrists. “Let no one find out until you’re safely married to AJ. Then they can think it’s his.”

Revulsion at the proposed deception coiled in Lani’s already queasy gut. “But I’m weeks along, almost two months.”

Priia loosened her grip and rubbed Lani’s arm—which didn’t feel all that soothing over the goose bumps that had formed there. “You can say it’s premature. We really do have small babies. Even big, strapping AJ was barely six pounds at birth. No one will ever find out.”

“You wouldn’t even tell AJ?”

“Why? Better to let him think the baby is his.” She tilted her head and looked right into Lani’s eyes. “Sometimes men are happier if we keep some secrets from them. It’s part of our work as women to keep the world running smoothly.”

Lani could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her back. “I don’t like deception. And what if AJ doesn’t want to marry me?”

Priia’s lips formed a tight smile. “He will.”