But the ball had started the gossip rolling. Now pictures of the front of her shirts were fair game, and as she had found out from Melinda, easily available in the checkout aisle. Melinda had snapped a few pictures of one magazine that had finally managed to dig up information about her, with the headline: “The Programming Princess: Pregnant?”
Caitlyn was torn between amusement and anxiety. In a way, she hoped that Emrys would read the stories and realize what was happening before she could tell him. During their phone calls, though, he didn’t seem to be thinking about it at all. He spent hours relating what was going on at the set, and Caitlyn listened, occasionally complaining about her princess lessons. And when she suggested that she was feeling well enough to come visit him on the set, he encouraged her to stay at the palace, just for a little longer.
There were moments when she convinced herself that the test had been a fluke. A false positive, coincidental symptoms, and an overreaction on her part. Until she tried to slip into a pair of jeans and felt the noticeable bump below her navel. She wasn’t nearly as round as the gossip rags made her out to be, but this was harder to ignore. Not impossible, though. She ditched the jeans and returned to her long dresses and empire waists. They still hid it completely, at least from Emrys’s mother and sister. But she could feel her body changing.
One morning, though, when Heloise brought her breakfast, Caitlyn noticed the maid looking at her curiously. Caitlyn realized that the T-shirt she’d been sleeping in had been hiked up and quickly tugged it back down.
“Heloise, please—”
“Your and Prince Emrys’s secrets are your own, ma’am,” she’d said firmly.
Caitlyn burned with guilt and uncertainty. She needed to see Emrys, or at least she needed to have a real conversation with him before it was so obvious that even his fickle attention couldn’t fail to miss it.
Chapter Eleven
“Your character isn’t you, though. If anything, I’m the man in the relationship,” Nina said in a tone that implied she thought she was being helpful.
“My character is still a man, even if he’s a sensitive one.”
“You have to do more than brood, Your Highness. You have to give the audience layers. This movie is pretty sparse on plot. They need to feel the heat between our characters, but that can’t happen if you think this guy you’re playing is all flash and fire but no depth. We’re not ‘Roughhousing’ anymore.”
Emrys felt his face burning in anger. “Are you saying you don’t believe my performance?”
“I’m saying you’ve gotten too comfortable. Recognize that your character is at the mercy of mine but is far too proud to admit it, and you’ll have what you need.” Nina stretched her arms over her head, catching the attention of several patrons of this common Portland coffeehouse. Nina was a fabulous actor, but she seemed to repel clothing. Even in jeans and a V-neck T-shirt, she seemed like she might at any moment be naked and on top of you, doing a little dance.
Having experienced that made Emrys a bit immune to the natural charm that oozed out of her, but it was good to remember what reactions he should have, given his character would be obsessed with hers during the last days of their lives. The film was good—dark, but good. Emrys appreciated the opportunity and thought that his and Nina’s names would help push the film farther than it might have gone otherwise.
What he didn’t appreciate as much were the acting lessons that Nina wanted to force on him.
“You might be confusing me with my character, but I’m not,” Emrys objected. He lifted a large mug of coffee with both hands and sipped.
“Hm.” Nina stood and leaned over.
Emrys looked up at her dubiously.
“Show me how your character reacts to this.” She moved her arms closer together and flashed him a smile. The movement lifted her breasts into full, glorious view.
Emrys raised a brow.
“Yeah, see, that’s way too cool for your dork of a character. He needs to be more flustered. He needs to be at a loss for words, a loss for breath, even. So when that scene in the diner happens, and she’s above him and leaning in like this—” Nina touched her fingertips along his jaw and came in close. “He doesn’t know what to do with himself. She has the control. He wants it but can’t get it. He wants control in general—over his life, over his failing heart, but he can’t have that, either. But if he plays his cards right…”
Nina leaned in to whisper in Emrys’s ear. “He could have what she’ll give him.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Emrys complained. He gave her a shove and laughed. “But you are entertaining,” he admitted. “I’m really glad Jennifer porked up.”