Shock Heir For The King. Clare ConnellyЧитать онлайн книгу.
how uniquely positioned a person would have to be to enjoy this kind of residence. And it wasn’t just this ludicrously expensive apartment—how much would something like this even cost? More than she could imagine, that was for sure. And she saw everything through the veil of his words and her stomach dropped and her knees shook. Because it was so obvious now.
Even then, staying at a hotel, he’d been so different to anyone she’d ever known. He’d spoken to her of ancient myths and he’d weaved magic into her being.
He’d been totally unique. A king.
‘It’s no joke. That weekend with you was my way of trying to ignore the reality of how my life was about to change, of pretending I wasn’t about to take the throne and the mantle of King. But I do not believe in hiding, Frankie. And so I left you in order to return to my country, my people, and my role as ruler.’
His words came to her from very far away.
He was a king.
Which meant... Oh, God. She reached behind her for the sofa, dropping down into it with a thud and drinking her wine as though it were a lifeline.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, moving closer to her, the word drawn from deep in his throat. ‘Our son is my heir. He is a prince, Frankie.’
‘But...he’s not... We weren’t married.’ She clutched at straws desperately. ‘So doesn’t that mean he can’t be your heir?’
His expression darkened and he took a moment to answer. ‘It complicates matters,’ he agreed eventually, with a shrug. ‘But nothing changes the fact he is the future of my people.’
She swallowed, his certainty formidable.
‘Do you remember the Myth of Elektus?’
She swayed a little, the words he’d spoken that night burned into her memories. ‘No,’ she lied huskily, staring out at New York.
‘My family has ruled Tolmirós for over a millennium. Our line remains unbroken. Wars and famines consumed neighbouring countries but, within the borders of Tolmirós, life has been prosperous and stable. The myth of our First Ruler is one my people hold in their hearts, even now. It is believed that my family’s lineage is at the root of Tolmirós’s wealth and happiness. Leo is not simply a boy—he is the fulfilment of a myth and ruling Tolmirós is his destiny, as much as it was mine.’
The magic he’d wound around her heart was weaving into her soul once more, and her beautiful child, who was so kingly, even as a child, began to pull away from her as she saw him as a figure of the fabric of this faraway country.
But he wasn’t only the heir to Tolmirós’s throne: he was her son. A child she had grown in her belly and nursed through fevers and helped to take his first step. He was a child she’d read to every night of his life, played ball with, lain beside when night terrors had caused him to cry out.
‘My people need him to come home, Frankie. He is part of that myth—he is our future.’
Her eyes swept shut on a wave of desolation. ‘You speak of your people, and you speak of his destiny. These are the words of a king, not a father.’ She turned to face him. ‘How can you not care about him as your son? He is a little boy and for two and a half years he has existed and all you care about is his destiny to rule a country he hasn’t even heard of. You haven’t asked me a single thing about him!’
His eyes glittered at the truth of her accusation. ‘You think I am not burning to know every single detail about my son? You think I am not desperate to meet him and hold him to me, and look into his face and understand him? Of course I am. But first I must secure your understanding for what will happen next. We must move quickly if we are to control this.’
‘Control what?’
He expelled an impatient breath and his nostrils flared.
‘Our marriage.’
‘Marriage?’ She paled visibly. ‘I’m not marrying you!’
‘With respect, Frankie, that decision was taken out of our hands the minute you conceived Leo.’
‘That’s not how I see it.’
‘Then let me be clear: there is no reality where I will not be raising my son as my son and heir.’
‘Fine. Be his father. Even let him be the heir to your damned country—’
Matthias’s expression darkened.
‘But don’t think you can show up after three years and try to take over our lives. Whatever we shared that night, it was fleeting. Meaningless. Just like you said. And it’s over. You’re just some guy I frankly wish I’d never met.’
His cheekbones were slashed a dark red. ‘That may be the case, but we did meet. We slept together and now we have a son. And I cannot ignore that. We must marry, Frankie. Surely you can see it’s the only way?’
She drew in a shaking breath at the finality of that, and fear trembled inside her breast.
‘No.’
‘No?’ he repeated, and then laughed, a harsh sound of disbelief. ‘You cannot simply say “no” to me.’
‘Because you’re a king?’
His eyes narrowed watchfully. ‘Because I am his father, and I will fight you with every breath in my body to bring him home.’
‘He is home!’
‘He is the heir of Tolmirós and he belongs in the palace.’
‘With you?’
‘And you. You’ll be my wife, the Queen of a prosperous, happy country. It’s not like I’m asking you to give him up. Nor to move somewhere unpleasant. You wouldn’t even have to live with me—I have many palaces; you could choose which you wanted to reside in. Your life will be significantly improved.’
‘How can you say that? I’d be married to you.’
‘And?’
‘I hardly even know you!’ The words flew from her mouth and her body immediately contradicted them. Her body knew his well. So well. Even now, dressed as he was, she saw him naked. She saw his broad, muscular chest, his swarthy tan, his wide shoulders, and her insides slicked with moist heat as—out of nowhere—she remembered the way he’d possessed her utterly and completely.
‘We will get to know each other enough.’ He shrugged. ‘Enough to raise a family together, enough to be a good King and Queen.’
He spoke dispassionately, calmly, but the words he spoke, the images they made, filled her with a warm, tingling sense in her gut. ‘It’s that easy for you?’
‘I’ve never expected any differently.’
‘Wait a second. You told me tonight that you’re engaged. So what’s your fiancée going to say about this?’
‘There is no such person. I haven’t yet selected a bride.’
Frankie felt as if her head was about to explode. ‘“Selected” a bride?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You make it sound like shuffling a deck of cards and drawing one at random.’
‘It is far from a random process,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘Each of the women have been shortlisted because of their suitability to be my wife.’
‘So go back to your damned country and marry one of them.’
He swept his heated gaze over her body, and goosebumps spread where his eyes moved.
‘Think it through,’ he said finally. ‘What happens if I do as you say—if I return to Tolmirós and marry another woman. She becomes my Queen, and Leo is still my son. Our son, mine and my wife’s. I will fight for custody of him and, Frankie, I will win.’ A shiver ran down her spine at his certainty,