Page 16 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

Her stomach sank, hard and painful at the thought. That eventuality would not be protecting her children, because whatever her father could do for her, for them, it would only be in service to Lille.

Which meant, likely, a marriage to Cristhian either way. Some kind of insulting agreement with his mother’s family. No choice. Her children treated like little dolls or robots, unable to have their own feelings or flaws.

Just the thought filled her with the kind of anxiety that could not be good for her children. These were all ifs and worst-case scenarios. She shouldn’t get too far ahead of herself. She had to deal with this step by practical step. Just like she had been since she’d finally made that choice to disappear.

She wished she could talk to Beau, but they had deemed phone conversations too dangerous. Too easily tracked and found. She would have to work this out on her own, with just the occasional text message from an unmarked number.

She blew out a breath. She could do it. She’d been doing it all these months. But first she needed something more than a pastry. She left her room, followed the hallway to the grand staircase Cristhian had led her up last night. Downstairs, she poked around in empty rooms until she found what appeared to be a dining room. Narrow, but long, a table mimicking the room in the center...

With Cristhian sitting at the head of it. A plate of food in front of him at one side, a laptop at the other. His dark hair was a little damp, like he’d just emerged from a shower not that long ago, and he was dressed casually in a sweater and soft-looking pants.

Her heart felt as though it tripped over itself in her chest. She did not know how one man could be so handsome. She might keep pointing out that he was royalty no matter how little he liked it, but he didn’t look it. He was so tall and broad, muscular as though he did a lot of labor. He must have taken after his American father.

No doubt another sore subject. Because she’d remembered belatedly that his parents had died in a very famous car accident. She had been too young to remember the actual event, but it had still been discussed as she’d been growing up. One of those tragedies people whispered about, hoping if they expressed enough dismay at lives cut too short, it wouldn’t happen to them.

It was so strange how all the facets of him were unfurling in the here and now after she’d convinced herself he was just a phantom in her life, never to return. But she hadn’t let herself think much about the reality of the babies she would one day hold. She was struck with the thought now. Who would they look like? Would they have his dark eyes, or some mix of her green?

She had wanted to be surprised about the sex, because the truth was it was too much to think about the babies aspeoplewhen he hadn’t been in her life.

And now he was...sort of. She had no idea how it would play out, but it made everything feel all the more real.

“Good morning,” he said, somewhat absently, without lifting his gaze. As if he’d known she was standing there taking stock all along. “We are well and truly snowed in. We do not anticipatebeing able to dig out for at least forty-eight hours. I suggest you make yourself comfortable in whatever ways you can, and certainly let the staff know if you require anything.” He made a broad gesture. “Sit. Ramon will bring you out a plate.”

She wanted to eat, but the need to be contrary was too deep-seated to ignore. “I ate some of the food left for me upstairs.”

He nodded. “And now you will sit and eat some protein.”

A man with a plate appeared as if on cue. He placed it at the seat next to Cristhian, who gave the man a sharp look that the man ignored.

Zia raised an eyebrow, surprised to read how little Cristhian wanted her to sit next to him written all over his face.

Well, that was enough to get her feet moving and to settle herself into the seat next to him. She flashed a smile at the retreating man, and then her breakfast companion.

He did not react in any way, except to look at his laptop.

Her plate was full of a large omelet, which looked delicious. She’d cut out coffee for the duration of her pregnancy, so she was grateful for the large glasses of juice and water at her plate. Though she wouldn’t mind a warm beverage later. The room was warm, but she could practically feel the cold from outside pressing against the walls of thecastle.

She took a few bites of her breakfast, then studied the man seated next to her. “Have you informed my father you’ve found me?” She genuinely didn’t know what he would have done last night. On the one hand, he seemed fully...himself. The kind of man who would take orders from no one and would do exactly as he pleased.

On the other hand, he took these jobs of finding people, so he must havesomedeference to the people paying him.

There was a slight hesitation from Cristhian. Nothing in his expression changed. He didn’t move. But she sensed just the hint of...something. Not discomfort, because the man seemedendlessly comfortable in every situation. But something akin to it.

“I will make my decisions about how to proceed before I report to your father,” he said at length. His posture and his delivery stiff.

Interesting.She took another bite of the delicious omelet and watched Cristhian. “And you have yet to make those decisions?”

His expression changed. Hardened ever so slightly.

It was no mystery why she’d allowed herself a nameless night with this man. He was too handsome for anyone’s own good. It didn’t matter if it was that sly smile and easy flirtations of their first meeting, or that hard, angry demeanor. Italldid something to her.

Something she was going to have to learn how to control. She had always been a bit...spiteful. Not her best quality, but she didn’t like to be told what to do—a problem as a princess who was constantly being told what to do. She hid her contradictory nature better than Beau, but it was still a struggle. When someone told her something sheshould, it automatically made her want to not.

She supposed that was why her father had learned the only way to get through to her was to threaten Beau’s future. Spite never held up in the face of protecting her sister from the possibilities her father used like a bludgeon. Private asylums. Medical interventions she certainly didn’t need. Anything that made it seem like Beau’s hardships were something she should be ashamed of.

Zia wouldn’t allow it. Beau claimed she had everything under control at the moment, and Zia had to believe her, but there was still the possibility that how Cristhian handled this with the king would reflect back on what Father did to Beau.

So Ziashouldnotwant to sleep with Cristhian ever again. She shouldn’t be the least bit interested in his bed or what he wouldwant to do in it. His arrogant little quip last night should have cured her of all her lust.

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