Page 84 of The Duke's Virgin

But I didn’t want to tell her. As kind as Blanche was, as much as I liked and trusted her, I just couldn’t spill all of this, this whole, humiliating mess onto her. And itwasn’tjust the mortification I’d suffered as Luka lashed out at me.

It was the hurt, too, and it went even deeper than that in ways I still struggled to articulate. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I finally managed to say, “I don’t know, Blanche. It’s just…complicated, okay?”

She stroked a hand down the back of my hair, which I knew had to be tangled beyond all belief.

I didn’t shrug her touch away, though. It was…soothing.

She kept it up for several moments, and I found myself moving in rhythm with her, lids growing heavy once more. It wasn’t until I started to sway, and she had to steady me that I realized I’d almost crumpled forward, off the bed and onto the floor.

“There, there…” Blanche murmured, her voice as gentle as if she were speaking to a child.

Light pressure from her hand had me looking at her. I blinked owlishly as I stared into her concerned eyes.

“Miss Stacia—”

“Stop it,” I said, cutting her off, irritated, tired and just…fed up. “I’m not some southern belle or rich old woman in a period novel. You’reten years olderthan me, Blanche. ThisMiss Staciacrap reeks of elitism and classism.”

Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled, but she replied in a level voice, “I work for the Hereditary Prince of Monaco, and you are his first cousin. It wouldn’t be proper—”

“I’m hispregnant,Americanfirst cousin, and I don’t have a fucking title.” I glared at her. “Indulge me.”

“Very well.” Amusement danced across her face, but only for a few moments before her expression softened. “Stacia. But only while we are alone, as long as you agree not to tell anyone…andif you let me help you now. Something is wrong. Will you talk to me?”

Flushing, I looked away.

She took my hand and squeezed gently.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I said tightly. With my free hand, I gingerly touched my aching head. “At least not the emotional stuff. Physically, though? I feel like I’ve been beaten up and down with a tire iron.”

“I’m not entirely sure what that is.” I looked over at her, and she gave me a commiserating smile as she added, “But it sounds very unpleasant.”

“I’ve never been beaten, with a tire iron or anything else, but you’re right. It soundsextremelyunpleasant.” Drained, I dropped my head on her shoulder. I was both surprised and touched when she echoed the gesture, angling her head until it brushed mine. “I’m tired, Blanche. And I feel empty, like I’ve been scraped out raw, not just physically but emotionally. My head hurts, and my stomach’s all twisted into knots, and I’m just…”

Tears rushed to my eyes, and I squeezed my lids shut against them.

“Fuck. I’mtired. That sounds whiny and small and bitchy, but I am. My parents are being so ugly about the baby, and I don’t know what will happen when I get home, and I’mtired.”

She wrapped her arm around me, hugging me close.

Turning my face into her shoulder, I let myself cry a little.

* * *

Blanche left a little while later,promising to bring me some ginger tea. I was reluctant to accept the offer until she showed me some information and promised to call the doctor who routinely provided care to the royal family. She must have seen my panic because she promised the woman would be discreet.

I had a plane to catch in a few hours, and although the last thing I wanted to do was spend hours flying, I most definitely didn’t want to stay in Monaco another minute. I didn’t even want to be in Europe right now.

Remembered humiliation made my bones ache as I made my way into the bathroom, dimming the lights so they didn’t singe my already sensitive eyes.

I wet a rag with cool water, hoping it would ease my headache as it had earlier. On my way to the divan by the window, there was a knock at the door. It swung open before I could call out, but I didn’t mind. It saved me the annoyance of my own voice.

“Stacia.”

I stiffened instantly, then forced myself to relax. “Hey, Aeric.”

“I ran into Blanche. She tells me you’re not feeling well.”

I sank down on the divan, turning to look at him. I froze at the sight of the cup in his hand. A hot, steaming cup.

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