5
ELLA WAS SURE SHE’D misheard. Nothing about what he’d said made any kind of sense, but she was struggling to think straight with his body pinning hers to the bed. She wriggled beneath him, but he didn’t move an inch. Instead, Elon stared down at her, waiting for her to say something. To agree to what he’d just said?
But…what precisely did he mean?
“My place is in Mosar,” she corrected softly.
“There is a very real possibility you have conceived a child. That child is the heir to my throne, and as you are his mother, you belong in Salim. It is obvious.”
Her pulse began to race. This was getting incredibly real. She pressed her palms to his chest, pushing hard, giving herself just enough space to pull away from him, sliding off the side of the bed and pushing up to stand. Naked, she reached for the closest thing she could find – his discarded robes – which she wrapped around herself like a cloak.
“I beg your pardon, your highness,” she emphasised pointedly, “But no. That’s impossible.”
His nostrils flared on a deep exhalation. “Why?”
“Because –,” she floundered for how to answer him. “What exactly do you mean when you say my ‘place’ is with you?”
He stood up, but stayed near the bed, hands by his side. She eyed him suspiciously, her heart pounding.
He didn’t answer right away, so she continued, thinking aloud.
“There’s no need for me to come to Salim just yet, though obviously I appreciate a baby would – complicate matters,” she conceded, her blood turning to ice as she thought of that scenario and how it would play out. Having been raised with the full knowledge she was the unwanted daughter of a powerful Sheikh, the idea of having carelessly conceived a child with another such man made Ella wish she could be swallowed into the ground beneath her feet.
The press had titled her the ‘illegitimate princess’ when the truth had come out. All the salacious details of her parents’ short-lived love affair had been splashed over the pages and screens of gossip columns everywhere.
That such a fate might await any child of hers was impossible. She would never let that happen!
“I’ll go back to Mosar and wait this out. In a month or so we’ll get the all-clear and we can get on with our lives.”
His expression didn’t change. She had the feeling his features had been carved from granite and stone. “That is unacceptable.”
She blinked in surprise. “But why? Obviously that’s the most sensible thing to do.”
“Do you understand the importance of my heir?”
She flinched as the harsh words pressed into her.
“If you have conceived my child then I cannot let you leave Salim.”
“But I haven’t conceived anything, necessarily.”
He tilted his head in agreement. “And yet, we cannot be sure.”
“Which is why my plan makes sense,” she insisted.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, so for a micro-second she thought she might be about to get her way. “If I were not the ruler of this country.”
A frisson of alarm shifted down her spine. “What difference does that make?”
“You cannot be so naïve?”
She ground her teeth together, trying not to react defensively.
“Let me lay this out for you, Ella. I am thirty-two years old. It has long been expected I would announce my marriage soon. For the sake of my kingdom’s stability and ongoing prosperity, I must choose a suitable royal bride, and she must have my baby soon after that. And so, here we are. You are royal, and you may already be pregnant with my child. The solution is so obvious.”
Ella’s knees felt weak. She reached behind her for the single chair and swung into it before she collapsed.
“It sounds like you’re talking about us getting married.” She tried to laugh, to show how ridiculous she found that notion, but only a thin, hoarse croak emerged.