Page 58 of Pregnant By the Wrong Prince

His heart shifted, shuddered.

‘Yes,’ he said hoarsely. ‘She does.’

‘Then stop putting yourself and your fears first and think about her.’

Was that what he was doing? Was that all this was? Just fear?

Fear that he was actually as bad as his father. Fear that he was poison. Fear that there was nothing but flaws inside him, that he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love.

Except... Lia did love him. Lia had loved him for years.

She wasn’t afraid of him. She never had been. Not of his anger or his passion or the ferocity inside him, the intensity. No, she’d simply matched it with her own. They were the same, weren’t they?

Both passionate, both strong. And she wasn’t poison, so... Why did he think he was?

You do love her.

He could feel it now, the fire of that love, heating him up, melting the ice. Warming his soul all the way through.

There was nothing toxic in it, nothing poisonous. It felt...clean.

He couldn’t know that for sure, but...maybe if she wasn’t afraid, then he didn’t need to be either. Maybe, if he trusted in her strength and her bravery, he could trust himself, too.

‘Rafael?’ Vincenzo demanded. ‘Are you still there?’

‘I’ll call you back,’ Rafael growled down the phone. ‘I have a wedding to organise.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LIAWOKETObrilliant sunshine. The world outside was blindingly white, snow everywhere, but the blizzard had vanished.

Snow was piled high on the mountains, weighing heavily on the trees, and probably covering all the roads, but it was clear enough that a helicopter could get through, because she could hear the rhythmic sound of the rotors through the trees.

The outside world intruding.

Rafael, leaving.

Her eyes filled with tears and she wanted to turn over and bury her face in her pillow, the ache in her chest filling the whole world.

She would go on—she had to, especially now she was a mother—but something inside her had broken irretrievably and she knew that nothing was going to fix it.

It was her heart. And it would never be whole again.

At that moment the door to the bedroom opened and Constanza came in, her arms full of something white.

Lia blinked. ‘What is that?’

The housekeeper laid the white thing down on a nearby chair. It appeared to be a white gown trimmed with silky white fur. ‘For you,’ she said. ‘You have fifteen minutes.’

‘Fifteen minutes?’ Lia echoed blankly. ‘For what?’

‘No time to explain.’ The housekeeper beckoned. ‘Come on, I’ll help you with the buttons.’

Lia didn’t want to. Yet it was clear Constanza wasn’t going anywhere, so reluctantly she dragged herself out of bed.

‘You can have a shower,’ the housekeeper said. ‘But make it quick.’

Five minutes later, cleaner but no less mystified, Lia found herself being buttoned into the white gown. It was made of thick white silk, with voluminous skirts, and fitted her small bump to perfection. It was long sleeved, with a deep V at the neckline.

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