Pregnant with the Prince's Child Page 2

  She drew in a sharp breath, set her satchel down in a corner and slipped out of the room before he looked again, feeling very, very lucky. He wasn’t totally himself and she hated to see him in this condition. But at least he hadn’t realized who she was. She could breathe easy for a few more minutes.

  Actually, being sent on this errand was a good thing. She needed to reinforce the impression she belonged here. She walked toward where she assumed the kitchen and butler pantry must be. Sure enough, the man himself was taking a sip from a suspicious-looking bottle as she came through the door. He put it away hurriedly and cleared his throat, trying to put the best face on it.

  She smiled. More good luck like this definitely made her feel more secure and she waved away his apologetic look.

  “We’re getting him settled,” she told him, attempting an air of professional courtesy. “But we’d like to have a tray with a pitcher of water and a glass available for him at bedside. We’ve got something in the truck I can use, but I thought something he was familiar with using here at home would feel more comfortable for him.”

  “Of course, miss.” He began to set one up for her right away. “My name is Griswold, by the way. I’m in service until nine tonight. After that, it’s just the night watchman, but you can dial the nine on the phone and you’ll get him.” He handed her the tray. “Here you are. Would you like me to…?”

  “No, I’ll take it myself. Thank you so much.”

  She started off but he called to her.

  “Miss…”

  She turned back, her heart in her throat. Had he noticed something?

  “Yes?”

  He frowned at her for a moment and she held her breath. Then he shrugged and asked, “What kind of food shall I tell cook he will be needing?”

  She bit her lower lip, trying to look thoughtful but panicking just a little bit. How the heck did she know? She didn’t even know exactly what was wrong with him.

  “I’ll have to look at my instructions,” she said quickly, “and get back to you on that. But I would assume it would be the usual light, bland sort of things.”

  Ouch, that sounded lame, didn’t it?

  “To start, I would prepare some chicken soup if I were you,” she added quickly.

  You could never go wrong with chicken soup. At least, she hoped not.

  “Ah, yes. Thank you, miss.”

  “Of course.” She nodded and left the room.

  Once she was far enough from the kitchen, she paused and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and catching her breath. What the heck was she doing, anyway? This had started out as a ploy to get close to Mykal without gatekeepers barring her way. But it was fast becoming something much more serious.

  Funny. She’d spent the last few weeks in the prison camp going over everything she was going to say to him when she got out, again and again. It was how she’d kept herself sane. But now, the words were fading. Things weren’t quite what she’d thought they would be.

  Her emotions had run the gamut while she was imprisoned. She’d gone through sorrow, raging anger and finally, a deep, painful bitterness when she realized he really wasn’t going to come and save her. No one was. She was lucky the camp had been liberated by the royal forces a few days before, or she would have been there still.

  And Mykal—had he been here all that time, living like royalty, while she endured the horrors of the camp? Anger began to bubble up inside her again and she had to tamp it back. Anger got in the way of clear thinking and she would need her wits about her.

  She was about to go back into his room. If he were dozing, she would have a chance of staying until the paramedics left. She wished she knew what had laid him low like this. An illness? A wound of some sort? She ached to know so that she could do something to help him.

  But if he were wide awake, he would take one look, stare for a second, hardly believing she would have the nerve to show up here, and then probably order her out of his house and out of his life, just as he had the last time they’d been together.

  She took a deep breath and steadied herself. In a moment, she would be alone with Mykal. That was what she’d come for, but when she came right down to it, that was really the scariest part of this.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “READY, set, go,” Janis muttered to herself, her own private little pep talk.

  She was about to face Mykal and make demands. She would be cool, calm and collected. She would remember her talking points. And she would be tough.

  She’d never been very good at holding him to account. Their life together had been full of excitement, danger and fun. Neither one of them had ever insisted on guidelines. Neither of them had ever set out principles. Maybe that was what had doomed them from the start. When problems rose up between them, they had nothing to fall back on.

  She hesitated outside the bedroom door, listening. They seemed to be finishing up, and in another moment, they were filing out the door.

  The one with the curly red hair saw her first. “Oh, good. You’ve brought him water. I was going to go find some, but that will be better.”

  “We’ve settled him in,” the dark-haired paramedic added, nodding as though he thought she was in charge here and he was making his report. “Have you been updated on his condition?”

  She shook her head, maintaining a professional reserve. “No, I haven’t. I’m hoping you can fill me in.”

  “Sure. Well, here’s the deal. You probably know he was badly wounded when his motorcycle hit an IED a few weeks ago.”

  She didn’t know. Emotions choked her throat, hitting her hard. She managed to hide it pretty well, but inside, she felt the trauma. The horror of picturing him in a motorcycle accident was almost too much to bear. But she couldn’t show it. If she could control the trembling, she would be all right.

  “He ended up with some broken bones, damage to a few internal organs, including possible brain damage, and shrapnel in his back. Most of the shrapnel was removed, but a few slivers are very close to his spinal cord. They haven’t decided yet if they can risk going for them.”

  “Oh.” Reaching out, she used the chair rail to keep herself upright, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “We’ve got him braced pretty tightly. He won’t like it when he fully wakes up. But you’ve got to keep him in it.”

  “Can he…” Her voice was choked and she had to clear her throat. “Can he walk? Is there paralysis?”

  The paramedic hesitated. “So far, so good. But he has to be kept quiet. No physical activity. No major emotional upheaval.” He shrugged. “I’m sure you know the drill.”

  “Do I?”

  A wave of panic crashed over her. She couldn’t help it. This was making her very nervous. She wasn’t qualified for this. These people had the idea that she would take care of him. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. What if she did something that injured him?

  “I…I’m not experienced with spinal injuries,” she stammered out. “Maybe you should call in someone who…”

  He shook his head. “No need for that. Just keep him down as long as possible, that’s my advice. That’s why we’ve given him something to make him sleep. I left a couple of bottles of the medications prescribed for him and some other supplies on the shelf in the bathroom. The doctor will be coming in to see him tomorrow, about ten, so be ready for that.”

  “About ten,” she repeated robotically, still stunned by what she was hearing.

  “I left a list of the numbers to call if he needs anything.” He shrugged. “But you seem to be pretty well staffed here. I don’t suppose there will be any problems.”

  He gave her a half smile, as though he’d suddenly realized she was pretty. He shrugged. “He may be a little hard to handle. And he’s got a wicked temper.” He grinned. “But I
guess that’s understandable after all he’s been through.”

  She blinked. That didn’t sound much like the man she’d been married to. But she supposed things were different now. Then she remembered what he’d been like that last day, once he’d found out what she’d done. Yes, his temper had come out, cold and biting. Wicked hadn’t been the word for it.

  “Of course,” she said weakly.

  “And I guess that’s it.”

  She nodded, not sure anymore if she was glad the medics were leaving. She’d wanted them to go before the butler came back, but now she wasn’t so certain. Maybe he should have been here to hear all this. She bit her lip, not sure what to do, but they were leaving and what could she use as an excuse to stop them?

  “Thank you so much for all your help,” she said instead, feeling breathless. “Shall I show you the way out?”

  “Don’t bother, miss. We know the way.” He gave her a grin. “See you again soon, I suppose. We’ll be the ones to transport him to the castle when that comes up.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She knew her smile was shaky but that couldn’t be helped. “Goodbye.” Then she watched as they made their way out. What could she say? She was completely bewildered.

  It sounded as though his injuries had been life-threatening—and maybe still were. She felt as though she were taking a dive on a roller coaster every time she thought of that. Obviously, he might have died. Despite everything, she couldn’t bear to think of it.

  And the castle? Why on earth would he be going to the castle?

  But that didn’t matter. She had to get out of here.

  Time to face facts: she’d been kidding herself. All this talk of tying up loose ends and coming to closure was a bunch of baloney. Deep in her heart, she’d been hoping for a confrontation, a knock-down drag-out that would curl Mykal’s hair and set him back on his heels. She’d wanted him to know how he’d misjudged and hurt her. She’d wanted him to admit he’d been wrong to betray her. She wanted to throw his legendary self-confidence into disarray.

  He wasn’t always right. He’d been wrong. Very, very wrong.

  But all that was impossible now. She couldn’t confront him. He was in a precarious condition and had to be handled with kid gloves. It made her cringe to think of hurting him further. That confrontation she’d been so ready for would have to wait for another time.

  She would have to go. There was no choice. She would go back to the kitchen and repeat everything the paramedics had told her, then tell the butler to take over Mykal’s care himself.

  How strange this all was. How frustrating.

  With a deep, heart-felt sigh, she looked at the bedroom door. He was probably asleep by now. She might as well take in the water. It would give her a chance for one real look at him before she went.

  She stopped, unsure. Should she risk it? She shrugged. What else could she do? Softly, she opened the doorway and slipped through it, her heart beating hard. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room and set the pitcher of water down before she looked at the bed.

  Mykal’s eyes were closed. It looked as if he were sound asleep. She swayed with relief, then took the opportunity to look at him more closely. Even though his face looked pale and drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes, he was as gorgeous as ever. Despite everything, her heart yearned for him. Was there any way to stop it?

  No. She was just going to have to shove her feelings aside and learn to move on. She’d been tough before. Her whole life had been filled with hard choices, unpleasant consequences. She had to be totally tough now, and she knew she could do it. It wouldn’t be easy. But she could do it.

  But she was stalling and had to get away soon. Being this close to him again was hard. All the old feelings were still there, waiting to be released. And she had to make sure that didn’t happen. He hadn’t trusted her when she’d needed his support. He hadn’t done anything to save her from the Granvilli secret police. Anyone with this sort of wealthy background surely should have had the influence to make things easier on her at least. But no help had come. That was something she would find hard to ever forgive.

  Quickly, she went over in her mind exactly what she needed to get done. He had to sign the divorce papers she’d had drawn up. But most important—he had to sign away his parental rights to the child she was carrying. That, she knew, might be the sticking point. That was the one she would really have to fight for.

  Sighing, she turned and looked around the room. It was plain but elegant, decorated in white and gold. A flat-screen television sat on a table in one corner. A tall bookcase filled one wall. She walked over and began to study the titles, one by one.

  She ought to go.

  Now.

  Well, in a minute.

  Something deep inside was telling her that once she walked out the door, she might never be able to get this close to him again. Did she still love him? Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t read the titles any longer.

  “Hold it together,” she told herself softly. “Just keep it calm.”

  But the sudden sound of a male voice made her jump and gasp at the same time.

  “Looking for something?” he said.

  She froze in sudden horror. The voice was Mykal’s. There was no doubting it. She’d missed her chance to avoid this. Slowly, she turned, heart beating in her throat.

  “Hello,” she said, attempting a bright tone but achieving only a shaky rasp. Her version of a smile felt awkward. But she met his stunning blue-eyed gaze steadily. Like Anne Boleyn, she was ready to face the guillotine. “How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said, and grimaced.

  She waited, hardly breathing, watching his eyes. The hair was standing up at the back of her neck. She expected fireworks. She expected he would call out her name, yell, shout, order her out.

  Something. Some harsh emotion. But as she waited another second, and then another, her surprise began to grow. It wasn’t happening. There was nothing.

  The longer the silence lasted, the more breathless she became. Was he having trouble seeing in this dim light? Recognition should flash across his face any second now.

  But his attention seemed to have drifted. Maybe it was the drug they’d given him. Maybe she could still slip out and…

  Suddenly, he turned his gaze and looked at her penetratingly.

  “Did my brother hire you?” he asked.

  She stared at him, completely at sea. What was he talking about?

  Mykal, she wanted to say. It’s me. Janis.

  But she couldn’t say a thing. All she could do was stare at him. His eyes were just as blue as ever, just as beautiful, but nothing in there seemed to recognize her.

  Was he playing a game with her? Torturing her in some creative new way? But no, he wasn’t the type to do that, and anyway, he looked completely sincere. And what would be the point?

  “Or did the castle send you over?” he went on, stretching back and closing his eyes. “I’ll bet that’s it.”

  What? The castle again. What was going on here?

  “I…no, uh…” What could she say? She knew very well what she should say. She should tell him who she was and remind him of their past together. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? But did she dare? Wouldn’t that be inviting the very thing she had to avoid in order to keep him calm?

  “I guess they thought I could use a day nurse,” he muttered, sounding more irritable than friendly. “If they would just stop with the medication, I have a feeling I would do just fine without anybody’s help.”

  She stood on the spot, paralyzed. He didn’t seem to know who she was. But that was crazy. How could he forget? They were married, for heaven’s sake. It might not have been a traditional sort of marriage, but it had been intense and wonderful wh
ile it lasted. Disappointing him had been a big mistake, and it had been ugly when he realized what she’d done. He’d lost all trust in her, and his response had broken her heart.

  She looked at him, at the pale complexion, the short dark hair that curled about his head like a laurel wreath. He seemed very tired and as she gazed into the depths of his eyes, she could see that his injuries had done deep psychic damage along with the physical wounds. Soon, whatever the paramedic had given him would kick in and he would fall asleep. She had to leave.

  But she hesitated. This was the man she had loved with all her heart and all her passion. This was the father of her coming child. How could he not see who she was?

  Deliberately, she stepped into the light right in front of him. He looked surprised.

  “Don’t you know who I am?” she said, hating that her voice trembled as she spoke. “Don’t you know why I’m here?”

  He stared at her as though he were trying to see through a fog. “Sorry. Have we met before?”

  She stared at him, frozen in wonder. Was she dreaming this? Searching his face, looking for answers, she had to conclude it was real. He was disgruntled, but there was no lurking animosity. And there was definitely no lurking recognition. He really didn’t know who she was.

  “If you were a nurse at the hospital, I really am sorry.” He managed a crooked grin of boyish-looking apology. “I wasn’t exactly a model patient at all times.” He winced as though something hurt. “I guess I was pretty much out of it a lot of the time. I just might not have ever noticed you.”

  She half laughed, nervous and unsure. “I’m not a real nurse, you know,” she said quickly. “I’m actually more of a…a…”

  “A guard?” He nodded as though her puzzling behavior was finally becoming clear to him. “I understand. With these negotiations going on endlessly, I guess someone decided I might need extra protection. Especially considering the condition I’m in.”

  “Protection.” She felt like a fool, parroting his words. But she needed something to give her a clue as to how she should act. She had no idea what negotiations he was talking about and the casual way he brought them up made her think they were somehow common knowledge—at least to anyone who had paid attention to the news and hadn’t been wasting away in prison camp for weeks.