Read Online The Prince & the Pregnant Princess by Susan Mallery - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Mallery
Ads: Link
until several days later, when she’d been on her way home. They had been irresponsible, and now she was paying the price.
“I can’t believe this,” Zara breathed.
“Tell me about it.” Cleo looked at her sister. “I know you’re upset. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know. The thing is, Zara, I’ll be fine, as will my baby. This is your time. You have a beautiful wedding in a week. I don’t want you thinking about anything else. Can’t we forget this and deal with it after you get back from your honeymoon?”
“I didn’t think you were still going to be here then.”
Cleo didn’t know what was going to happen, now that the news was out. “We can deal with it either together or long-distance. I promise.”
Slowly Zara nodded. “I’m giving in because I don’t have a choice. You’re a grown-up. You have to be responsible for your own life. I just wish you had told me.”
“I’m sorry,” Cleo repeated, thinking that she had a few wishes of her own.
The difference between a formal state dinner and an informal state dinner was usually found in the size and the details.
Cleo paused at the entrance to the cocktail party and studied the room. Flowers bloomed everywhere—providing a sweet scent and creating the sense of being in a garden. Small white lights twinkled, candles flickered and an immense crowd of people circulated and talked. The informal dinner had been for about two hundred people. There had to be at least five times that number in attendance to honor the bride and groom. Everyone glittered and sparkled, leaving her feeling like a very out-of-place, country cousin. A very tired country cousin.
She hadn’t slept in two days. Not since she’d found out that the king had told Zara about her pregnancy. So far no one else seemed to know, so she was keeping her fingers crossed that she could escape the situation without too much trouble.
A waiter paused and offered her a glass of champagne. Cleo declined, then decided to head to the bar where she could get her club soda with lime and pass it off as a cocktail. At least she felt reasonably attractive. Her red, beaded gown skimmed over her curves in such a way as to make her feel like a pinup girl from the 1940s. A twist of fabric in the midsection hid her tummy, which was good because it had really started sticking out. She was approaching her fifth month and none of her regular pants would fit. She was going to have to hit the maternity stores before long. But that trip would have to wait until she headed home.
The good news was she hadn’t thrown up in the past couple of days. Maybe that cookie toss into the royal garden had been her last.
Less than ten feet from the bar, she came to a dead stop. Sadik stood across the room, and the second she saw him, she knew that he’d been told about the baby.
His dark gaze fell immediately to her midsection and the look of accusation on his face rooted her to the floor. Even when he headed toward her, tall, angry and determined, she couldn’t seem to make herself run.
He grabbed her arm and herded her toward the far end of the room where there weren’t so many people. She glanced around to see if she could find someone to rescue her, then figured there was no point in putting off the inevitable.
Think fast, she told herself. She had to come up with a plausible story. She’d tell him what she told Zara—that she’d met someone. After all, she’d already hinted there was another man in her past. She needed to buy herself time. If she told him it was his baby, he would take over her life and she would lose the ability to make decisions. It’s not that she wanted to keep Sadik from his child; she wanted to make sure he didn’t ace her out of the picture.
He led her into a small alcove, then positioned her so her back was to the main room, but he faced that direction. Probably so he could make sure they weren’t interrupted or overheard.
“Is it true?” he asked by way of a
“I can’t believe this,” Zara breathed.
“Tell me about it.” Cleo looked at her sister. “I know you’re upset. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know. The thing is, Zara, I’ll be fine, as will my baby. This is your time. You have a beautiful wedding in a week. I don’t want you thinking about anything else. Can’t we forget this and deal with it after you get back from your honeymoon?”
“I didn’t think you were still going to be here then.”
Cleo didn’t know what was going to happen, now that the news was out. “We can deal with it either together or long-distance. I promise.”
Slowly Zara nodded. “I’m giving in because I don’t have a choice. You’re a grown-up. You have to be responsible for your own life. I just wish you had told me.”
“I’m sorry,” Cleo repeated, thinking that she had a few wishes of her own.
The difference between a formal state dinner and an informal state dinner was usually found in the size and the details.
Cleo paused at the entrance to the cocktail party and studied the room. Flowers bloomed everywhere—providing a sweet scent and creating the sense of being in a garden. Small white lights twinkled, candles flickered and an immense crowd of people circulated and talked. The informal dinner had been for about two hundred people. There had to be at least five times that number in attendance to honor the bride and groom. Everyone glittered and sparkled, leaving her feeling like a very out-of-place, country cousin. A very tired country cousin.
She hadn’t slept in two days. Not since she’d found out that the king had told Zara about her pregnancy. So far no one else seemed to know, so she was keeping her fingers crossed that she could escape the situation without too much trouble.
A waiter paused and offered her a glass of champagne. Cleo declined, then decided to head to the bar where she could get her club soda with lime and pass it off as a cocktail. At least she felt reasonably attractive. Her red, beaded gown skimmed over her curves in such a way as to make her feel like a pinup girl from the 1940s. A twist of fabric in the midsection hid her tummy, which was good because it had really started sticking out. She was approaching her fifth month and none of her regular pants would fit. She was going to have to hit the maternity stores before long. But that trip would have to wait until she headed home.
The good news was she hadn’t thrown up in the past couple of days. Maybe that cookie toss into the royal garden had been her last.
Less than ten feet from the bar, she came to a dead stop. Sadik stood across the room, and the second she saw him, she knew that he’d been told about the baby.
His dark gaze fell immediately to her midsection and the look of accusation on his face rooted her to the floor. Even when he headed toward her, tall, angry and determined, she couldn’t seem to make herself run.
He grabbed her arm and herded her toward the far end of the room where there weren’t so many people. She glanced around to see if she could find someone to rescue her, then figured there was no point in putting off the inevitable.
Think fast, she told herself. She had to come up with a plausible story. She’d tell him what she told Zara—that she’d met someone. After all, she’d already hinted there was another man in her past. She needed to buy herself time. If she told him it was his baby, he would take over her life and she would lose the ability to make decisions. It’s not that she wanted to keep Sadik from his child; she wanted to make sure he didn’t ace her out of the picture.
He led her into a small alcove, then positioned her so her back was to the main room, but he faced that direction. Probably so he could make sure they weren’t interrupted or overheard.
“Is it true?” he asked by way of a
Similar Books
