Free The Royal Baby Revelation by Sharon Kendrick Page B

with concern rather than censure. ‘And is this any way to bring up a child who you claim is heir to my throne?’
    ‘We haven’t a lot of choice,’ she said defensively—too proud to spell out in detail her precarious financial state. ‘And anyway—he’s happy.’
    ‘Is he?’
    Dark brows were elevated in disbelief and Melissa realised that it was a stupid thing to say under the circumstances since Ben had only just stopped crying. And looking at the scruffy room through Casimiro’s privileged eyes—could she really blame him for thinking otherwise?
    ‘Yes! Yes, of course he’s happy!’
    But Ben had now started squirming and rubbing his fist into each eye in the way he always did when he was tired. And even though she longed to put him down in his cot—some sense of foreboding made her want to keep him up for as long as possible.
    To act as a buffer between her and Casimiro? she wondered guiltily.
    Ben gave another wriggle and Melissa sighed as she gave into the inevitable. ‘I’ll have to go and put him to bed.’ She hesitated as she was overwhelmed by a terrible and slightly hysterical urge to ask him in a sing-song voice if he wanted ‘to say goodnight to Daddy’? But common sense prevailed and she turned on her heel and went to get her son ready for bed, aware that Casimiro didn’t follow her. So there was to be no touching fairy-tale scene where the King’s hard heart melted over a bedtime story.
    Somehow, she carried on with her usual routine. She wound up the brightly coloured plastic mobile above his bed which played ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ and she joined in with the nursery rhyme the way she always did. Smoothing her fingers through the silken tumble of his curls, she ran a gentle and loving palm down the side of his peachy-soft skin.
    ‘Goodnight, darling Ben,’ she whispered as she turned on the night light.
    She had taken so long to settle him that, when she returned to the sitting room, Melissa half hoped that Casimiro might have grown bored with waiting and gone away—knowing that such a hope was foolish and irrational considering all the trouble she’d gone to in order to get him here. But, no, he was still there—a captive if unwilling audience—and it was up to her to make him realise that she was telling the truth.
    It had been a fortnight since she’d seen him—when she’d stupidly let him seduce her on his island of Zaffirinthos. He had left her lying naked and confused on the sofa—his back turned to her as he had dressed in stony silence—and then suddenly agreed to travel to England to meet Ben for himself.
    In those two weeks she had thought about him—actually, she’d thought about little else. Not just as a prospective father, but as a lover. He had been…what? Melissa bit her lip. He had been technically perfect yet emotionally cold during that swift coupling. Like a block of ice. Almost as if he’d enjoyed the power of bringing her to orgasm so quickly. Watching her shudder and gasp with an arrogant and triumphant look on his mockingly handsome face. And then distancing himself afterwards as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
    Well, she wasn’t going to be such easy prey today—that was for sure.
    ‘Can I offer you coffee?’ she questioned politely.
    ‘I haven’t come here to endure pointless social niceties.’
    ‘So I’ll take that as a no?’
    His eyes narrowed, for he did not like that hint of sarcasm in her soft English voice. He did not like it one bit. ‘I have come here to discuss your extraordinary claim.’
    For a moment there was silence and Melissa knew that she could dance to his particular tune all evening. Both skirting around the inevitable with nothing being achieved except more and more layers of confusion. She looked into his amber eyes, knowing that she should probably feel cowed by his mighty presence in her humble home. Or slightly ashamed at the ease with which she had let him seduce her for a second time. But in truth