The Accidental Heir (4 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

H
E
WAITED
AS
patiently as he could in his agitated state until it was clear that she would not be returning.

No one got in his way when he went searching for Astrid. His emotions were at fever pitch and he could tell that the staff he passed could read the warning on his face. So many thoughts were going through his mind—Astrid infuriated him but she also excited him as no other woman ever had.

When he tersely asked directions from a footman, he could tell by the concerned and suspicious tone of the man’s voice that Astrid was already winning the loyalty and love of her people. Despite the feelings coursing through him he was genuinely pleased for her. Astrid’s caring nature could only inspire and benefit all her people. With their support she could fight off all the impostors with fake claims on the throne without an angry word needing to be said.

He finally reached the door to which he’d been directed and rapped on it. ‘Astrid? Let me in.’

A hollow silence answered him. He swung round to see a maid passing with a pile of bedding in her arms. ‘Have you seen Princess Astrid?’

‘She’s in the nursery—’ The girl broke off and blushed scarlet as if she wished she hadn’t spoken.

‘It’s all right. I know. You’re not betraying a confidence,’ he reassured her. ‘Which way is the nursery?’

The maid gave him directions and he strode purposefully through the chill of a dreary corridor. The rooms that resonated with the public’s historic perception of the monarchy and gave them confidence in their royal family had been simply but effectively restored, while Astrid seemed to have given no thought to her own comfort. Some of the bulbs in the overhead chandeliers were burnt out, and the old-fashioned radiators gave off no heat at all. He approached a door that he guessed must be the nursery—it had a rocking-horse handle.

‘For goodness’ sake, Astrid,’ he thundered, opening the door. ‘The least you owe your unborn child is to ensure that its mother doesn’t freeze to death—’

The words jammed on his lips. Astrid was crying. And not in the showy, shoulder-shaking way he’d seen some women do, but silently. She was at the far side of the room, kneeling beside a cot she had dressed in palest peach in readiness for the arrival of their baby.

‘It isn’t an
it
,’ she flashed back at him. ‘We’re having a little girl.’

This was news to him.
The most wonderful news.
His thoughts stalled. All the anger inside him turned to wonder. He was going to be the father of a little girl? His mind rushed forward to their baby’s first Christmas—a celebration that would be totally meaningless without all of them together as a family. ‘Do you mind if I come in?’ he asked gently.

‘Be my guest,’ she said with a sniffle.

And now he saw the gift he’d brought Astrid from her people open on the floor in front of her. ‘May I see?’

She shrugged, refusing to look at him.

He came to stand behind her, but he wasn’t looking at the drawing. Astrid filled his eyes. Her bowed form, the soft vulnerability of the back of her neck, her slender arms and shoulders, her silken hair falling across her face—all of it touched him. She looked like a broken doll. She had no one and he didn’t know why he hadn’t seen that before. Astrid had courageously taken on a job that would have daunted most people with little or no help from anyone. That hadn’t stopped her from swiftly making improvements in Hammersvik with only the love of her country and its people to spur her on.

He wanted her more than ever. But he wanted more than a physical relationship with Astrid. He wanted all of her—all the crazy bits, too. His feelings for Astrid hadn’t diminished over the months they’d been apart; they’d grown. What had started out as a few passionate nights huddled together for warmth in the Arctic followed by light-hearted correspondence while he’d been away had slowly deepened into an unbreakable bond. Was he going to let Astrid’s natural caution where their child was concerned spoil that? Or was he going to rejoice in the fact that she demonstrated every trait a child could wish for in its mother?

Wordlessly, she pushed the drawing towards him.

It was crude and colourful and had obviously been drawn by a very young hand. There were three stick figures—two big, one tiny. The two big figures had crowns on their heads, and they both had one stick arm around a baby.

CHAPTER NINE

S
ITTING
ON
THE
floor with a good space between them, he leaned his back against the rails of the cot. ‘Why did you think you have to do this alone?’

‘Karl, for goodness’ sake,’ Astrid exclaimed, making him smile as she exhibited all the old spirit. ‘Do you know how many single parents there are in this world?’

He caught hold of her as she went to get up. His grip was light but non-negotiable. ‘Don’t pull away from me, Astrid.’ They both knew he didn’t mean it in only the literal sense, and slowly she relaxed and sank down to the floor again.

‘What do you want to say to me, Karl?’

None of the things he had come here to say, that was for sure. ‘We are where we are,’ he began, out of his depth for once.

‘And where I very much want to be,’ she flashed, tensing at his poor choice of words.

‘Relax, Astrid. I was going to say, and where we
both
very much want to be. We’re both adults. We both know what happened in that polar tent.’

‘But you—’

‘Took precautions?’ he suggested wryly when her face crumpled. ‘There are always risks. We knew that, too.’

She ground her jaw as if coming to a decision. ‘You must think I did something underhand because of the Royal Council insisting I must have a child.’

‘Saving your country but not yourself? Even if that was your motive, am I supposed to think less of you? And I didn’t notice any hesitation on my part in the polar tent, so making a baby is a wonderful bonus, as far as I’m concerned.’

‘So you’re not angry?’

‘Why would I be? Like everyone else you help, Astrid, this little girl is lucky to have you. Rumours have reached me about the improvements you’re making in Hammersvik, and I’ve heard the way people talk about you. You’re transformative, Astrid. You’ve touched their hearts.’

How could she have forgotten how devastatingly wonderful he was? How could she have locked herself away in her head like this? She should have known those frank grey eyes would melt her heart, and that amazing body and that hot-as-hell mouth would make her want him all over again. How could baby-head have affected her so badly that she hadn’t seen that Karl deserved the truth as soon as she knew it? ‘But I should have told you—’

Karl held up his hand to silence her. ‘And now I know,’ he said. ‘And when I talk about you not having to do this alone, I’m not just talking about our baby, Astrid. I’m talking about the mutual benefits our countries can gain from each other’s skills. I’m talking about a treaty of cooperation. I’m talking about a union between Hammersvik and Thorberg...’

He was talking about everything except love between one man and one woman, Astrid thought as Karl continued on. How could she have let him slip away? How could she have been so single-minded, so defensive, so lacking in self-confidence that she had started something she didn’t have the courage to finish? How could she live with herself, having won Karl’s interest, his humour, his friendship—and, goddammit, his unbelievably perfect body and unsurpassable sexual skills—only to carry on as if men like Prince Karl Thorberg walked into her life every day?

‘I’ve been a fool, Astrid.’

‘
You’ve
been a fool?’

‘I couldn’t see what was under my nose.’

‘A woman who acted badly and who is still fiercely determined to get her own way?’

‘A woman who puts everyone before herself—’

‘And who will stop at nothing to achieve her goal?’ If she was going to make this work, she had to be totally honest.

‘When that goal is to stand up for the people of your country, I’ll go with that. I wouldn’t have you any other way, Princess. Weak and malleable has never held any appeal for me. I’ve loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you—’

‘Stop right there,’ Astrid commanded. ‘You
love
me?’

Karl shrugged, the wicked smile she loved playing round his lips. ‘Didn’t I just say so?’

‘Well. That’s convenient.’ Astrid shook her head as if surprised.

‘Convenient?’ Karl queried.

‘Yes. Because I love you, too.’

‘The similarities between us just keep growing, Princess.’

They shared the wry beginnings of a smile.

‘Truce?’ she whispered. ‘For the sake of the baby?’

‘For all our sakes,’ Karl growled, dragging her close.

They decided to talk more over tea but somehow didn’t make it farther than Astrid’s bedroom.

‘Can you forgive me?’ Astrid’s voice was tense with excitement and anticipation as Karl backed her into the room.

He kicked the door shut behind them. ‘I already have, though I can’t forgive you for not having heating installed in the palace.’

‘We managed just fine in the polar tent,’ she said suggestively.

‘We were restricted,’ he argued, nuzzling her mouth as he steered her towards the bed. ‘I was hoping to unleash something a little wilder, now we’re not huddling together to keep warm.’

‘But I like huddling. So that doesn’t sound like much fun to me.’

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Princess.’

‘Don’t make me wait.’

‘First I’m going to light the fire.’ He glanced at the empty grate.

‘Tease.’

‘Always.’

Astrid’s glance took in the bulge in his jeans.

‘Forget the fire. This may take some time,’ Karl warned.

‘Lucky for you, I cleared my diary.’

‘You talk too much, Princess.’ Karl laughed as he swept her into his arms and gently laid her down on the bed. He frowned. ‘Do I have to be gentle with you because you’re pregnant?’

‘No. You have to be gentle with me because you’re so damn big.’

Karl was gentle. He was gentle and sensitive and tender to the point where tears started pricking the back of her eyes. ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ she asked with a sigh of contentment.

Karl, who was using his hands and tongue quite inventively at that moment, raised his head. ‘This is selfish work, Princess. I’m only interested in preparing you so I can enjoy you all the more.’

‘Liar.’ Catching hold of his shoulders, she lured him up the bed. ‘You’re doing it because you love to hear me beg.’

‘Possibly.’

‘Definitely,’ she argued, claiming a kiss.

‘Then let me see what I can do.’

She gasped as Karl grabbed her hips, positioning her exactly where he wanted her. ‘Go carefully with that thing. You’re not just big, you’re enormous,’ she warned.

‘And you love it,’ he growled, driving deep.

‘Well, maybe not too carefully.’ Exclaiming with shocked pleasure as the unexpected and violent release shook her, she screamed Karl’s name as the waves of sensation rocked her back and forth.

‘Thank goodness one of us is in control,’ she managed a long time later as they lay side by side.

‘Not me,’ Karl admitted as he rolled over and began to kiss her again. ‘I want wild, I want hot, I want hard and fast. I want all you’ve got to give, Princess. I’d forgotten just how good you feel.’

‘Trust me,’ Astrid murmured as her hands roamed over Karl’s shoulders. ‘You won’t ever get the chance to forget again.’

* * *

Astrid’s cries of appreciation could probably be heard across the border in Thorberg, and the night was only just beginning. There would be no more lengthy separations. He needed her. She needed him. If a solution had to be found, he would find it.

It came to him in the grey light of dawn when exhaustion finally claimed Astrid and she curled up in his arms to go to sleep.

‘What about that fire I was going to light?’ he murmured, glancing at the fireplace.

‘It will never go out,’ she murmured groggily, sighing with contentment.

‘Amen to that,’ he murmured, brushing a kiss against the brow of a woman he adored, who was also the mother of his child and who he hoped would one day be his queen.

If she would have him, Karl mused wryly as he stared down at the sleeping face of his gutsy woman.

EPILOGUE

I
T
WAS
A
very modern royal wedding between the rulers of the houses of Thorberg and Hammersvik. Karl and Astrid's two-year-old daughter made the prettiest flower girl ever. Tula's long silky blond hair, caught back with ice-blue ribbons, was just a little ruffled, which seemed right for the daughter of an adventurer and a very modern queen, but Princess Tula behaved impeccably as she toddled along with her hand placed trustingly in that of Astrid's childhood friend and maid of honour, Britt Skavanga.

The bridesmaids wore long pale blue silk gowns with overskirts of floating white chiffon, while the bride wore an elegant polar-white column of silk decorated with thousands of tiny crystals. Fragrant white roses had been specially flown in from France and the red carpet was strewn with their petals. Astrid's bouquet comprised lilies for happiness, hyacinths for steady love, ivy for fidelity, and myrtle, the emblem of a long and happy marriage. Her ring was a simple band of flawless blue-white diamonds from the newly successful Skavanga diamond mine run by Britt, now more properly known as Sheikha Sharifa al Kareshi since she had married one of the main investors behind the powerful consortium that had saved her family's mine.

‘You're so beautiful,' Karl whispered when Astrid reached his side, ‘and I'm so proud you've agreed to be my bride.'

Karl's warm glance was all Astrid needed to reassure her. In his official uniform Karl looked more the warrior than ever, and though this wedding ceremony, attended by over two thousand guests and presided over by four ministers in the glorious old cathedral in the centre of Hammersvik's capital city, was magnificent, Astrid longed to be in the arms of the man she loved and for them to be alone with their daughter. They had decided to wait until Tula was born and their countries had agreed on an official mutually beneficial treaty before getting married. ‘Which gives us at least two years to get to know each other's faults and foibles to see if we can put up with them,' she had joked with Karl at the time.

‘I know your faults and I can't put up with them, Princess, but you'll learn the error of your ways in time.'

‘I doubt that,' she had replied.

With a hum, Karl had given her one of his amused looks. ‘You're probably right, Astrid, but I'm prepared to take my chances.'

But neither of them was prepared to take a chance when it came to allying two royal houses. They had to be absolutely sure. Astrid was certain. In the polar tent, it had been more a case of something monumental and life changing happening, but by the time Karl had delivered their baby daughter in the royal summer house on the lake—when the adorable Princess Tula of Hammersvik-Thorberg had decided she absolutely couldn't wait to meet her parents—Astrid was only confirming what she already knew: Karl was the love of her life.

And that was one thing she would never change her mind about, Astrid thought as a great well of happiness erupted inside her when the presiding minister declared Prince Karl of Thorberg and Princess Astrid of Hammersvik man and wife.

‘Man, wife and baby daughter,' Karl amended as he turned to lift Princess Tula into her parents' ecstatic embrace.

* * * * *