Page 172 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

The only thing he’d be telling Jack tomorrow was that he was fired.

He’d give the man a generous severance package and good references, because they’d been friends for a long time. And Jack had been a useful buffer back in the bad old days, when Rene had been drinking to excess and trying to fill the empty spaces inside him with meaningless sex. Jack had been a necessary evil who had once stopped him from having to deal with the consequences of his own dumb decisions—but he was a part of his past now.

The Playboy Prince had been dead for four years—and Melody had shown him he did not need to hide his ambitions for his monarchy behind that façade a moment longer.

Shutting the laptop with a snap, he took several deep breaths to calm his temper. The morning sunlight glimmered on the translucent blue and the thought of Melody—waiting for him in the master bedroom—helped to untangle the knots in his gut.

He’d left her fast asleep, her pert bottom peeking out from under the sheet. Because he’d exhausted her during the night.Again.

Thank God, he hadn’t woken her when the nightmares—which had begun to chase him again after their heart-to-heart a week ago—had jerked him awake just before dawn, the sweat cooling on his body and making him feel clammy and unclean.

He tugged open the desk drawer and lifted out the box one of his assistants had handed him before he’d left Saltzaland. It felt heavy in his palm, which was ridiculous because it couldn’t weigh more than a few ounces.

They should probably do the test tomorrow, so he could start getting Melody on board with what needed to happen next. He had always known that eventually he would have to take a wife. But there had never been anyone he’d considered right for the role, until now. Melody was perfect in so many ways. Not only was she a modern working woman who understood the business of monarchy, she was also smart and beautiful and he found her endlessly fascinating and exciting. So there was no chance of him getting bored.

But, despite the pragmatic assessment, regret pushed against his chest. Because, for once in his life, he had no desire to return to the real world.

He wanted one more day, so he could see the fierce joy in her eyes one more time before he told her the whole truth: that he couldn’t offer her the happy ever after he suspected she wanted—but that they would make a strong team, if he could pry her away from Isabelle.

As he went to place the box back into the drawer, a throat cleared behind him.

He swung around to find Melody standing in the study doorway, her hair damp from a shower, her delicious curves covered by the silk kimono he’d tugged off her in the past week more times than he could count.

Disappointment engulfed him, his plan to wake her up—by caressing her in all the places he knew would make her beg—ruined.

‘You’re awake?’ he said inanely, but then he noticed the strange look in her eyes—part sadness, part confusion—and his disappointment became sharp and jagged.

How much had she overheard? Because he didn’t want Jack’s callous assessment of their situation freaking her out.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I just… I wondered where you were,’ she said.

Relief rushed through him, even though she still seemed wary and unsure. She couldn’t have overheard his conversation with Jack, or she would have had words with him about it. One thing Melody never did was back down from an argument. Or shy away from tough conversations, unlike him.

‘Sorry,’ she said, her face flushing with colour. ‘That sounded clingy.’

Huh?

He frowned, unsettled by the defensive tone. Since when had Mel ever considered herself less than his equal? But then he found himself smiling at her wary expression. No wonder she had captivated him so comprehensively. Her reactions were as unpredictable as they were unique.

‘Not a problem. I love it when you cling,’ he teased, determined to lighten the mood. And maybe seduce her back into bed.

But, instead of taking the bait, her expression remained serious as she dipped her head. ‘I think we should be safe to do that now, and not risk an incorrect result.’

It was only then he realised he still had the pregnancy test kit in his hand. He stared down at it, wishing he could shove it back in the drawer and forget about it for another day.

But how could he do that without giving away the fact he didn’t want their time alone here to end? Then an odd bubble of hope expanded under his breastbone.

He hadn’t given a lot of thought to the result, but if shewaspregnant he would have a much stronger case for insisting on marriage. So there was that.

Standing, he lobbed the box to her.

‘Good idea,’ he said, as she caught it one-handed.

‘Why don’t you do it while I figure out breakfast?’ He glanced at his watch, trying for a nonchalance he didn’t remotely feel. ‘How about we eat at the guest house round the point? The cleaning crew will be finishing up there now and then they can do this place.’

She nodded. ‘Of course,’ she said.

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