Page 12 of Secret Heir

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“What a peach.” I commented, having a feeling I knew exactly who Pixie had met. “Well, you’ve been camping in a teepee for three months, at least let me treat you to lunch with a view.”

Pixie nodded, agreeable to me for the first time today. I laced our fingers and we stood, walking back up the path a lot slower than we’d come down it. This time her hand was in mine. My American Girl was back.

I just hoped she wouldn’t run again when she realized the secret I’d been keeping was a hell of a lot bigger than the both of us combined. I’d already spoken to my mother about Pixie—it’d been hard to hide my obsession with the American girl. Danish princes who marry without consent of the monarch lose their dynastic rights and titles. I didn’t care about that. Mother did, and when we talked she was eager to hear all about the woman that’d finally stolen my heart. Within hours she’d given her blessing and told me to go get my girl.

I’d never signed my heart over to any woman, but Pixie was different. I was already in deep, and she held all the power. She could decide my life is too much for her—because it is. It’s too much for anyone.

And then what? Then I’d have to chase her down all over again.

“You gonna tell me how old you are now?”

She shook her head, refusing to look me in the eye. A slow grin was pulling at her lips though. “Nope.”

“If you tease me any more I may be forced to kiss that grin off your face,” I finally forced her eyes on me, “or worse.”

“I’ll take door number two, please.” She held her fingers up and then dashed out of my reach when I tried to haul her into my arms. She looked more lush than I remembered, rounder, more sweet and fuckable.

I wondered if there was a chance our unforgettable night had led to something more.

My eyes flicked up and down her form, as if in search of a tell-tale clue.

The surprise nestled in my pocket throbbed against my thigh. I shoved my hand down deep and grinned at her.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Princess. Trust me.”

SEVEN

Pixie

“I hope you like surprises.” Rome uttered as he wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me up the steps to the biggest manor house I’d ever seen.

“I don’t. I’m terrified of them actually. I’m a Taurus, we don’t process change well.”

He laughed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

His words made me uncomfortable. What had he noticed? He was observant—more observant and thoughtful than any man I’d ever known. Had he seen that my middle had grown in the months since he’d last seen me?

“My Romie! You’ve come! Give amma a hug.”

“Oh. My. God. That’s her!” I yelped as the little old witch lady opened the door and held her arms out to Rome.

“Hi, Granny.”

“Granny?”

“It’s such a surprise to see you!” She held him tightly, hugging him and muttering something in his ear.

A bright smile lit her face when her gaze landed on me. The old woman, skin weathered and hair long and braided, enveloped me. “Welcome home, child.”

“Home?” I uttered.

“I told you, didn’t I? You would be distracted by a beautiful stranger, I just didn’t know it was my grandson!”

I was speechless, the enthusiasm in her eyes was infectious.

“Rome didn’t tell me you were his grandma. I told him all about our talk at base camp.”

“Rome?” She shook her head. “He insists on that modern hipster name, but I like the good strong Viking name he was born with. What do I keep telling you Romarik—how will you catch the right woman if you lie about your name?”

I shifted at his side, thinking about the secrets that still breathed between us. I wondered if he would leave when he found out...everything.

I pressed my hands to my belly softly, protective over the little life growing inside of me.

I would tell Rome at some point. I was sure of it. Probably. I loved spending time with him, his grandmother was amusing and delightful, if the rest of his family was as easy I could see myself...what? Living here? Raising a baby with Rome? Anxiety twisted my muscles as I thought of all the things that could go wrong.

Maybe Rome didn’t want a baby. He probably didn’t have time, his life seemed big and his business, whatever it was, important.

“Come, come, let me make some tea. There are so many secrets the Gods have yet to share.”

“No tea leaves today, Granny. I just wanted to show Pixie what she’s missing out on by sleeping in that dusty camp. She’d rather dig up bones than spend time with me.”

Granny waved him off and started making tea anyway.

“So, Romarik, fill me in—” I teased, “is the entire family this…” I trailed off, searching for the right word.


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Romance