in the air. We leave JFK Airport behind us, cruising through the air toward our home.
Because that’s what Argyle is—home. With Cara at my side, Argyle is the only home I want.
Cara stares out the window, and a lump forms in my throat.
I know she’s worried about Luca, but there’s not much else I can say. I’m not giving her up. Not again. Not for the sake of my brother’s pride, when all he did was toss her aside like a used tissue. If he doesn’t like the fact that I’m with her, that’s his problem.
I just hope Cara sees it that way, too. I hope she believes me when I say that I love her and I want her beside me. I hope she realizes that if I ever have to choose between her and Luca, I’ll choose her every time.
As soon as we land, a car is waiting to drive us to the doctor’s pavilion near the palace. Cara puts a hand on her stomach, sucking in a breath through her teeth.
“You haven’t been to see a doctor since you were here?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No one even knows about the pregnancy except you, the royal doctor, and Cathy.”
When we pull up outside the doctor’s office, we’re ushered inside immediately. We’re taken to the same office as before, and the doctor enters a minute later. He bows to both me and Cara before sitting at his computer and bringing up Cara’s file.
“Now, Ms. Shoal, you haven’t had a checkup since our initial visit, is that right?”
“That’s right. Theo—uh, His Majesty—insisted I come straight here.”
The doctor glances at me, and I think I see a hint of approval in his gaze. He nods, tapping a few notes on his computer. “Looks like it’s been about seven weeks since the time of conception. It’s time to check on this baby. Have you ever had an ultrasound before, Ms. Shoal?”
Cara shakes her head. For the next few minutes, the doctor explains the process before setting Cara up on a bed. He squeezes some clear gel onto her abdomen before placing a wand on her belly.
Cara’s eyes shine, and all I can think about is how badly I want to make her my wife. Visions of a child or three running around the palace grounds with us flood my mind. Cara could teach them to swim, and I’m sure Dante would have them on a computer as soon as they could sit still. They’ll be drowned in love from everyone around.
If it’s a girl, I know my father will melt. He won’t be able to resist a little baby girl. Hell—neither will I.
Excitement and pure, white-hot terror flood through me as the doctor stares at the screen. Fatherhood is a much bigger responsibility than wearing the Crown, but it fills me with so much joy, it’s almost indescribable. I hold Cara’s hand as if it’s the one thing keeping me grounded on earth. If I let go, I might float away into fatherly bliss.
Then, the doctor grunts. His brows draw together, and he slides the transducer over Cara’s stomach again.
“Hmm,” he says, as if that’ll help anything.
“What?” My voice is hard. My heart thumps.
“Nothing to worry about just yet,” the doctor says, putting the wand down and calling a nurse. “We’ll take a few blood tests and check back in two days.”
“Is something wrong?” Cara’s eyes have gone from soft happiness to hard, cold fear.
“Usually, at seven weeks, I’d be able to see the embryo via ultrasound. It’s unusual not to see it, but we’ll run some more tests to make sure everything is normal.” He smiles at the two of us, but if he thinks it’ll soothe my nerves, he’s wrong.
A nurse comes in and helps Cara clean up. I pace the room and the doctor writes notes.
Fantasies of my future children start to crumble before my very eyes. As much as the doctor smiles, I can tell by the deep lines in his forehead and the curve in his shoulder that he’s not telling us everything.
He’s worried, and so am I. My happiness with Cara is hanging in the balance, and I already know something’s wrong.
28
Cara
Ectopic pregnancy.
I’d never heard those two words before, but now they play on repeat in my brain. There’s no room for words, or sentences, or hope, because the only thing I can think about are those two ugly words. Over, and over, and over again.