Page 2 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

And he wanted Angelique.

Valentine strode through the main corridor of the stable complex as if he owned it. Which, technically, he one day would. Stable master Alessandro nodded in acknowledgement. Nothing happened in these stables without that man’s notice and that was both a good and bad thing.

His sister’s words reverberated in his brain like a persistent little hammer. It probably wouldn’t hurt to avoid Angelique for the time being and pretend actual interest in the horse-breeding programme and see if he could be of any real assistance. He wasn’t against learning about the horse-breeding programmes of kings. As for riding, he could always improve. There were lessons to be learned here. Strengths to be gained. At least be discreet—that was his sister’s take-home message. That he could do.

An hour and a half later, Valentine left Alessandro’s office, his brain full of bloodlines and horse names and a new appreciation for the mares on loan to Thallasia. The Cordova name was an old one in horse-breeding circles. A fully trained Cordova horse had been a gift fit for a king for the last three centuries and more. Money and power, passion and status, and Angelique was no mere stable girl—she was royalty of a different kind and all the more irresistible because of it.

Finally, he allowed himself to seek her out. Only natural for him to want to approach the source, given the information he’d just inhaled. And there she stood, hosing sweat from the flank of a just-exercised horse—her pale jodhpurs, knee-high black boots and cotton T-shirt wreaking havoc on what little restraint he claimed to have. His father’s second-best stallion was currently behaving like a day-old lamb beneath her hands, but that didn’t stop him from offering his assistance. Not that she took it. Instead she rolled her eyes and tucked a stray strand of hair behind one ear. Silky black and falling to her waist, her hair fell in waves like the sea, and she plaited it when working—a single thick rope that fell between her shoulder blades and continued to her hips—but he’d seen it undone once, and he would see it like that again if he had his way. Bury his fists in it the better to tilt her face towards his and—

‘You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to hose you down,’ she told him, and it didn’t sound like a threat. More like a promise.

‘You wouldn’t dare.’ He summoned his most engaging grin. ‘Because if you did I’d have to take my wet shirt off in front of you.’ Which as far as he was concerned was win-win.

She laughed and reached for the plastic scraper and began applying it to the horse’s back. ‘I’ve seen better bodies.’

Doubtful.

She spared him a glance and laughed. ‘You are the smuggest boy I’ve ever met.’

‘Man. Smuggest man you’ve ever met,’ he corrected, and she laughed again and it was a beautiful sound.

‘Angelique,’ Alessandro barked from inside a nearby stall. ‘Get on with it.’

‘See? You’ve got me into trouble. Some of us are working.’ But she didn’t sound concerned. Maybe because she was in the unique position of being beholden to her family’s horses first and the royal stables of Thallasia second. It gave her a boldness the other grooms didn’t have, not to mention that she was the best rider amongst them by far, with an uncanny instinct for getting the best out of any horse beneath her. He knew for a fact that Alessandro used her shamelessly to help train the more advanced horses here.

‘How many horses do you still have to exercise?’

‘Your father’s best stallion and my favourite Cordova mare.’

The two most impressive beasts in the complex. He’d learned that of late, and naturally he wanted to master both of them. ‘Want some help there?’

She straightened slowly, taking her sweet time looking him over. She wasn’t indifferent to him, far from it, and this game they played was delicious. ‘Are you up to it?’

Surely he could be forgiven for groaning his reply. ‘Alessandro, I’m taking my father’s stallion up to the gamekeeper’s lodge. Will that count as his exercise for the day?’

The older man’s head and shoulders appeared above a stall wall. ‘Do you have your father’s permission?’

‘Well, he didn’t say no.’ Possibly because Valentine hadn’t yet asked him. ‘Can Angelique come with me?’

The horsemaster spared her a hard glance and a string of rapid Spanish. Angelique nodded and replied in kind.

‘Was that a yes?’ he asked.

‘That was a don’t encourage you and definitely don’t get you killed. There was also a be careful in there and an I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘So it was a yes.’

‘Only if you’re the one riding the mare.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘That stallion’s crawling out of his skin today on account of servicing a mare yesterday. We sent the mare to pasture at one of your farms this morning and I swear he can still smell her. If we ride, I’m the one who’ll be riding him because he’s an ill-mannered pig. You will have the pleasure of riding a perfectly trained Cordova mare.’

‘See, that’s what I thought you said the first time. I just can’t comprehend the “you riding the stallion instead of me” part.’

She gave a gallic little shrug and pointed towards the stallion’s stall. ‘Me, that one.’ She pointed towards a different stall. ‘You, that one. She’s faster than the big brute anyway.’

‘Want to bet?’ It was the only way he could tolerate the assault on his masculinity.

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