Page 3 of Pregnant at the Palace Altar

“Won’t be long for you now.” Fifi gave her stomach a little pat. Katerinahatedpeople touching her belly, but Fifi had been a godsend for giving her a job and time off to attend doctor’s appointments, and Katerina didn’t have it in her to ask her not to do that.

They walked outside together into a cloudy evening, offering small talk and then goodbyes. In her head, Katerina was praying her little junker of a car would start. When it did, she offered a little thank-you to the universe and then drove home.

She parked on the street in front of her apartment complex in a questionable neighborhood on the outskirts of Athens. It was not a palace. It wasn’t even the glittering beach bungalow she’d grown up in on the island nation of Kalyva. It was, in fact, a hovel, at best. But it washerhovel, which she paid for with moneysheearned. Because sherefusedto follow in her mother’s footsteps any more than she already had.

She’d make her own way. She’d love her child, and if that meant struggling for money in the beginning, so be it. There would be love—and that was better than secrets and money.

Katerina would make it work. She always did.

There was a crowd a way down the street, and though Katerina was curious, she kept her head down and walked into her building. Nothing good came from gathered crowds—this she knew.

So she walked up the stairs, cursing her third-story apartment as she did every evening when her stomach felt particularly heavy and her feet positively ached. She was starving, exhausted, and couldn’t wait to eat dinner in the bathtub as had become an indulgent ritual every night after work.

She unlocked the door, stepped inside and froze. There was a strange scent in the air. Something very...masculine. Her heart seized there in her chest and she reached for the door behind her with one hand. In the other, she held her keys in between her fingers, ready to defend herself in whatever way she could.

But even as she did so she knew there was no defense against this.

He was here. In her apartment. On her raggedy, sunken couch cushion. She had done everything to make her place cozy and cheerful, but in the shadow ofhimit seemed dim, dirty. Shameful.

The king of Kalyva sat on her couch. Her former boss.

And more.

Her hands slowly dropped from their fighter’s stance to her stomach, as if she could hide that fact from him. She had a lie ready. She’d hold on to that lie with all she had, and yet...

The sight of him still stole her breath. It seemed time away had stripped her of all those old tricks she’d once employed in order not to react outwardly to the man.

The king.

She could still hear herself breathlessly call him “my king” that one stupid night she’d forgotten every promise she’d ever made to herself. All because this man had kissed her.

All because she was afool. The fool her mother had always told her she’d be when a handsome, powerful man took what he wanted—andyouwanted.

She should have known he’d be here. She’d thought she’d managed to hide from Princess Zandra in the baby store the other day, but she should have known. Should have known the princess was kind enough to have pretended not to see her as Katerina had clearly not wanted to be seen.

But not kind enough to keep it to herself.

Diamandis unfolded himself, the height and breadth of him seeming to block out the sad light of the fluorescent fixture behind him. His dark hair was cut in the same ruthless style it always was, his dark brows and eyes as severe as ever. His muscular frame was enhanced by one of his requisite black suits. She knew he thought it practical and that it made him look intimidating to all who would oppose him, but it was little more than repressed mourning, because he had never dealt with any of the tragedies that had befallen him.

She knew this all too well, and it was a large part of why she’d run the moment she’d found herself pregnant. Diamandis did not deal with anything that did not suit the narrative he had created for his life—and she could not even hate him for that after the way he’d lost his family and had somehow kept his kingdom from crumbling. Atfourteen.

She hadn’t trusted herself to be strong in the face of him, and she would have needed an immense amount of strength. He had spentyearstelling everyone who would listen that, if he had the choice, he’d never marry, never have children. So this littlelapsewould not fit into his plans.

Andshewould pay the price.

A price she knew intimately. And she had no wish to pass any of that on to her children the way her own mother had done.

So Katerina had left. Disappeared.Run.Determined to handle all of this on her own. She had always been on her own, even when at the whims of her mother, so it had seemed the only course of action. She’d been certain he wouldn’t think twice about her disappearance.

He’d forgetallabout her, and never, ever know. Or care.

She was saving them both, really.

But now he was here. Now he likely knew. And what power did she have against a king?

You will have to find some, Katerina.She held her hands more tightly around her stomach.

“Has it really been so long that you’ve forgotten protocol, Ms. Floros?” he said, and she recognized that cool, detached tone and the way he said her formal name with those clipped vowels. It hid a fury most people never guessed at. But she knew.

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