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The Queen's New Year Secret. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Queen's New Year Secret - Maisey Yates


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there. So he could hardly deny her the use of them. Well, he could. But he wasn’t, so she was taking advantage.

      “Oh, I sent your driver home. The only driver currently here is mine. You are leaving with me. Now.”

      He stood there, his arms folded across his broad chest, his dark eyes glued to her.

      “Don’t look at me. I have to get dressed.”

      “It is nothing I haven’t seen, agape.”

      She treated him to her iciest glare. “Rarely.”

      The biting word hung between them and she felt some guilt over it. Truly, the state of their sex life was partly her fault. If not mostly her fault. But having him touch her out of duty... It had certainly started to wear on her.

      Eventually, it was just easier to lie back and think of Petras. To close her eyes and think of other things. Hope that it would be over quickly. To not allow herself to feel a connection with him. To shut walls around her heart, and around her body. The less she felt during sex, the less pain she felt when it was over. The less disappointment each time he got up and left immediately after, each time the pregnancy test was negative. The less distress she felt over the fact that any intimacy between them was all for the purpose of producing a child. That it was completely void of any kind of emotion between the two of them.

      Yes, the fast, disappointing sex in the dark was mainly her fault.

      “As you wish, my queen.” He turned away from her, his broad back filling her vision. And, damn him, she felt bad. Guilty. He did not deserve her guilt.

      She kept her eyes on him as she stripped off the hospital gown she was wearing. On the way the perfectly cut lines of his suit molded to his physique. He was a handsome man. There was no denying it. He was also a bastard.

      She finished dressing, then cleared her throat.

      Kairos turned, the fierceness in his expression wavering for a moment. An emotion there that she couldn’t quite put a name to.

      “Let’s go,” he said.

      “Where are you taking me?”

      “To the palace.” He hesitated. “We have some things to discuss.”

      “I don’t want to discuss this right now. I’ve only just found out I’m pregnant. I believe you had to know before I did.”

      “You at least had a suspicion.”

      “You think that makes it easier? Do you think that makes any of this...?” Her voice broke, her entire body shaking. “I should not be devastated in this moment. I hate you for this too. I was supposed to be happy when I finally conceived. You’ve stolen that for me.”

      “Who stole it, Tabitha? I was not the one who asked for a divorce.”

      “Maybe not. But you made your feelings for me perfectly clear. It’s poison now, already working its way through my system. You can’t fix it.”

      He said nothing as they walked out of the exam room and continued down the long vacant hallway toward a back entrance. His car was waiting there, not one driven by a chauffeur. One of his sports cars that he got great enjoyment out of driving.

      He was a low-key man, her husband. Responsible, levelheaded. Serious.

      But he liked cars. And he very much enjoyed driving them. Much too fast for her taste. But he never asked her opinion.

      “I’m not especially in the mood to deal with your Formula 1 fantasies,” she said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, giving him her best withering expression.

      “Funny. I’m not particularly in the mood to put up with your attitude, and yet, here we are.”

      “You have earned every bit of my attitude, Your Highness.”

      “So angry with me, Tabitha, when you spent so many years with so little to say.”

      “What have I said, my lord?”

      He made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. “My lord. As if you are ever so deferential.”

      She arched her brow. “As if you ever deserved it.” She breezed past him and got inside the car, slamming the door shut behind her and setting about to buckling her seat belt while he got in and started the engine.

      “What happened, Tabitha? What happened?”

      “There was nothing. Like you said. Nothing. And I can’t live that way anymore.”

      “You’re having my baby. I don’t see you have an option now. Clearly the divorce is off.”

      He revved the engine, pressing the gas and pulling the car away from the curb.

      “The divorce is no such thing,” she said, panic clawing at her insides. “The divorce is absolutely on. You might be royalty, but you can’t pull endless weight with me. I am not simply another subject in your country. I have rights.”

      “Oh, really? And with what money will you hire a lawyer to defend those rights? Everything you have is mine, Tabitha, and we both know it.”

      “I will find a way.” She didn’t know if she would. He wasn’t wrong. She was nothing. Nothing from nowhere. She had climbed her way up from the bottom. From a poor household on the wrong side of the tracks with parents who would spend every night screaming at each other, throwing things. Her mother hurling heavy objects at her stepfather’s head whenever the mood struck her.

      And that was before everything had gone horribly wrong.

      There had been no money in her household. Not enough food. All there had been was anger. And that was an endless well. One that her parents drew from at every possible opportunity. That was her legacy. It was all she had. It was why she had vowed to find something different for herself. Something better.

      What she had found was that sometimes everything that filled the quiet spaces, everything that went unsaid, was more cutting, more painful than a dinner plate being hurled at your head.

      Kairos said nothing but simply kept driving. It took a while for her to realize they weren’t heading back to the palace, but when she did, a cold sense of dread filled her. She realized then that she honestly couldn’t predict what he might be doing. Because she didn’t know him. Five years she had been married to this man and she knew even less about him today than she had on the day they had married. Impossible, seemingly.

      She’d spent three years as his PA prior to them getting engaged and married. Three years where she had cultivated a silly, childish crush on him. He had smiled easier then, laughed with her sometimes.

      But that was before his father had died. Before the weight of the nation had fallen on his shoulders. Before his arranged engagement was destroyed by his impetuous younger brother. Before he had been forced to take on a replacement wife that he had never wanted, much less loved.

      Those years spent as his PA had been like standing on the outside of a forest. She had looked on him and thought, I recognize him. He’s a forest. Being his wife was like walking through it. Discovering new dangers, discovering that it was so dark, she could barely see in front of her. Discovering she had no idea where the trees might end, and where she might find her freedom. Yes, the deeper she walked, the less she knew.

      “You aren’t planning on driving your car into a river or something dramatic, are you?” she asked, only half joking.

      “Don’t be silly. We spent years trying for an heir, I’m not going to compromise anything now that we have one on the way.”

      “Oh, but otherwise you would be aiming for a cliff. Good to know.”

      “And leave Andres to rule? Don’t be ridiculous.”

      It occurred to her suddenly, exactly where they were heading. Unease stole over her, her scalp prickling. “What are you planning?”

      “Me? Perhaps I’m


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