Page 45 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

Oh. So... Not even close.

‘I love you,’ she said next, and that was more like it. It was the first time she’d said it. He would hear more of it. Embrace it. Commit to a lifetime of loving her too.

‘My future Queen and mother of my child, I’m all in. No matter what it takes, I love you too.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

ANGELIQUE DIDN’T GO to Spain—she brought the horses and buyers to her. World-class polo players were an odd lot, but tell them she was selling her first and second string polo ponies—twelve altogether, preferably to be sold in two groups of six—and she was stunned by how many of them were willing to travel to see her.

Her father, who usually conducted sale negotiations, would always be on the other end of the phone for her and they knew it. But the horses were hers—selected and brought on by her, not to sell, that hadn’t been what she’d meant to do with them at all, but with children on the horizon and queenly duties to contend with, and Valentine to make time for, something had to give. She’d always been a trainer first and a rider second. Those invitations to try out for World Championship events had been gratifying but not the end game where Cordova ponies and reputations were concerned.

She’d even fielded an enquiry from the newly minted billionaire who couldn’t ride.

He’d been taking riding lessons, he said.

He’d offered her an apology for his behaviour, no excuses. His sister had threatened to disown him if he didn’t stop treating people like they were mud on the bottom of his overpriced shoes, he’d said. Having money had not made him a better person, he’d confessed. And even if she had no desire to sell him any Cordova ponies, or to accept his apology, he was indebted to her for speaking out as she did when no one else around him would.

It made her think. It made her examine her own hot-headed responses and realise that she needed other ways to make her point if she was to stand at Valentine’s side and do good.

She’d always been altogether willing to call out poor horsemanship, but maybe there was another way of pushing for change that didn’t involve arguing with insecure billionaire shipping magnates in public. Give the man riding lessons. She almost choked on the thought, but what if she’d encouraged him to improve rather than humiliating the man?

She penned a reply before she could overthink it. The horses were in all likelihood already sold to professional players, but he was welcome to visit the Cordova estate in Spain. She was offering a tour of the facilities there, either her father or their head groom would see to that, and insight into how Cordova ponies were trained. She’d been placed on the back of a horse before she could walk. Becoming a skilled practitioner in any sport took time and if he really had caught the polo bug she knew good people who could help him on his way.

Her old self scoffed, figuring he was playing her and all he wanted was to buy her horses.

Her new self thought life journeys took so many twists and turns that giving a person the benefit of the doubt might just be a good thing.

‘I have to become a better person than I am,’ she told Valentine later that evening.

‘For the babies?’ he asked, and she hadn’t even thought of that angle.

‘Yes. For the babies, and for you and for all the people who are going to have to rely on me now to know how things work and do the right thing and not lose my temper at the slightest provocation. Oh, this is bad. I’m two minutes into the mere thought of self-improvement and already I’m failing!’

Valentine set a steaming cup of green tea in front of her, and she liked green tea, but wanted to weep at the thought of limiting her caffeine intake for months on end.

‘Hormones have a lot to answer for,’ he murmured. ‘No one is saying you have to be perfect. No one ever is.’

She wrapped her hands around the warm cup. ‘You’re kind of perfect.’

‘It’s official. Baby brain is real. You’ve lost your mind.’

‘I’m scared.’

‘I know.’

‘I don’t want to let anyone down.’

‘I know that too.’

‘We get married on Sunday.’

‘Yes.’ He gathered her in, ran his hands over her body. ‘Do you need me to distract you?’

‘Yes.’ Please God, yes, before she drowned beneath the weight of a foreign crown and her ever growing insecurities. ‘I want you to do your very best.’

She found a buyer for her top six horses in an old friend from Argentina. His name was Enrique, horses were his life, and he was currently the number two ranked polo player in the world. He’d tumbled Carlos ten years or so ago now, before Benedict, and he and her brother had not remained friends afterwards. He’d always been civil to Angelique and Luciana though—even at the height of their notoriety. She had a soft spot for him and he had the money to buy and the weight of his international polo club behind him. Her horses would thrive in his care and shine on the field. He was the perfect match for her beloved ponies, no question.

He was married now with two young children and a partner he loved to distraction. His phone was full of pictures of his ranch and family. Benedict—her brother’s partner—was a brilliant, complex prince of a man, and she liked him for her brother very much, but this man could have been her brother-in-law had the world turned a little differently, and she wouldn’t have been disappointed.

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