The Billionaire Prince’s Pregnant Fiancée by Leslie North

19

Erik was nervous as hell as the car pulled in front of Holly's house. His mind scrambled as he tried to come up with a way to explain why he'd done what he had, why he had been so harsh—why he had sent her away. But right now, his brain was going haywire, like an overblown fuse. He kept grasping at bits of arguments, at ways to grovel. He even considered grabbing a boombox and serenading her, something so over-the-top and Hollywood-esque that she'd have to forgive him. Wouldn't she?

God, he needed her to forgive him.

As he was striding up the walkway towards the front door, Holly and her husband were already stepping out, heading for their own car, obviously dressed for the gala. Holly's eyebrows jumped to her hairline as she took in Erik's obviously frazzled appearance in his Tom Ford tuxedo. "Is she here?" he asked quickly.

Holly glanced at the house, then sighed, nodding. "Why are you here, Your Highness?" she asked. Her tone was gentle, but also a bit protective. He appreciated that. He was glad that Clara had such a good friend here in Fervia, and he made a mental note to ensure that Holly and her husband were invited to the castle sometime soon. If he could fix everything. His stomach knotted.

"I'm here to apologize," he said. "I need to speak with her."

"She's there. I'll, ah, let you do that in privacy," Holly said. She and her husband quickly retreated, their car driving away as Erik stood on the stoop, his palms starting to sweat. He'd never been this nervous before in his life. Then again, he'd never screwed up quite this badly—and he'd never had to repair something that meant quite so much to him. He rang the bell, then knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

He recognized Clara's voice, tentative and a bit harsh. He felt a flood of relief that he'd found her, even as his nerves at what he had to do redoubled. "It's me. Erik."

She was quiet for a long second. He waited for her to open the door. To his surprise, she kept it closed. "What do you want?" she asked through the thick wood, her voice muffled.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said.

"About what?"

"This would be easier if you opened the door," he pointed out.

"Easier for you," he thought he heard her mutter. "I need a minute, Erik. I know you told me to leave Fervia, and..."

"No!" he quickly interrupted. "No! I don't want you to leave Fervia!"

Another long pause. "But you said..."

"I know what I said." He groaned. "And I was entirely wrong, and entirely stupid, and I shouldn't have said a single syllable!"

"You told me that we were through," she reminded him, and each word was like a cut across his chest. "You said that we were just convenient. You said that you were going to sleep with other women! How could you say those kinds of things, and only a few hours later realize that you didn't mean them? What changed?"

"I had a long talk with my father." God, he hated having this conversation in public, even if there wasn't anyone else around that he could see. Even his driver and bodyguard had remained in the car. "I only sent you away because I thought it would protect you."

"Are you fricking kidding me?" she yelped. "Protect me? How?"

He rubbed at his temples as his pulse pounded. "It was stupid, as I said," he admitted. "I... I'd just been talking to Pelle, and my father, and I already told you that I had to protect you from the reporters, and from jerks like Aldland..."

"And I told you I could handle it," she said, her voice strong and steady. "Barring that, I even said I'd step back..."

"That's the thing," he protested. "I don't want you to step back! And I think I knew, even then, that you'd be strong enough to handle it. But I kept thinking about what I was supposed to be doing. I was supposed to be a stronger man, a prince. That meant making the tough decisions, for you and for Fervia. That meant sacrificing my own happiness." He swallowed hard, his throat feeling like sandpaper. "Because losing you would be one of the worst things that could happen to me, Clara. I love you."

The door opened, and his jaw dropped. Clara stood in front of him in her gala gown, a mermaid dress that looked like liquid copper and bronze, poured over her body lovingly before flaring out at the bottom. Her hair was a cascade of waves, half-up and half-down, and her jade green eyes were wide with surprise. She was stunning.

"You love me?" she whispered, as if she couldn't believe it.

He nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. "I love you," he repeated. "Madly. Undeniably. More than I ever realized I could love anyone."

She made a little broken sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Then she rushed into his arms. He wrapped his own arms around her intently, holding her tightly to his chest.

"I screwed up," he said against her hair, before pressing kisses to her temple, along her jaw, at the hollows of her clavicle. "I thought I had to hurt you to get you to go. I thought I was doing what was best for you."

"First," she said, smiling at him and stroking his cheek, "promise me you'll talk to me, rather than make unilateral decisions about what's best for me, all right?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Next," she said, "I was going to go to that gala, or at least to the castle, and confront you. Because I love you, too. And I wasn't going to let you go until I got the truth out of you. I knew that something was wrong. I knew, on some level, that you were lying to me. I just didn't know why."

He kissed her firmly. "You were going to come to confront me?" he said.

She smiled, her lips quirking in that sexy, smirky way that he was addicted to. "It's been pointed out that I can be a little, erm, pessimistic. But I don't want to be that way. Not about this. I have hope for the two of us." She took a deep breath. "For the three of us."

He stroked her stomach. Then he kissed her again, one of gentle adoration. It kept going until she gently tugged away.

"If you keep that up," she said breathlessly, "we're never going to get to that gala."

"Screw the gala," he said, starting to move towards her, but she laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh, no. I've got unfinished business with Aldland, and with the reporters," she said, and there was determination in her face, in her voice.

He nodded. "I've got your back,” he promised. "Always."

"I know," she said, and the confidence shining in her face made him feel ten feet tall. "That's why I love you."

* * *

Clara and Erik swept into the ballroom of the castle where the gala was already in full swing. The doorman announced them with a full throated "Prince Erik Devlin and Ms. Clara Campbell!" and then all heads turned to see them enter. She'd never been particularly vain, but the dress was gorgeous, and she felt like a silver screen star wearing it. She'd reapplied the lipstick that Erik had kissed off, even though she'd made it clear that she'd be happy to let him kiss more off later. Right now, she was a woman on a mission.

She worked the room with Erik. There were diplomats and political officials from all three island kingdoms. She spoke with all of them, asking them about their individual jobs, their families. She had a strong memory, and she knew that she'd be working with a lot of these people in the future—she planned on taking her duties representing Fervia seriously. She wasn't going to shy away. She'd always wanted to be in politics, to make a difference. And that meant, for her, being in front of issues she cared about, speaking her mind, and helping as many people as she could.

She wasn't backing down from a fight. Especially not now, with Erik at her side.

Every now and then, he sent her a warm smile, his eyes a molten blue. It made her tingle right down to her toes. Then he'd smile and put a supportive arm around her waist, or stroke her arm, or kiss her shoulder. It might be ridiculously affectionate, but she didn't care in the slightest, returning the affection by resting her head on his shoulder as they spoke with his friends Nic and Ben, or holding his hand as she thanked Holly.

"I'm so glad you worked things out," Holly said, smiling. "You're charming everyone, I hope you know. I've heard nothing but compliments."

Erik grinned. "I'm not surprised at all," he said. "It's like you were born for this."

Clara was so happy, so relieved, that she almost didn't notice the Aldland delegates and Finance Minister walking up to them. She straightened her back, forcing herself to keep a placid expression, even when she really wanted to glare at them.

"Ah, Ms. Campbell," the minister said, the sneer evident in his voice. "We weren't sure if you'd be here. There were rumors that you weren't up for it. Or... that you might not be returning?" He looked quizzically at Erik.

Erik's face was a storm cloud, but Clara put a gentle hand on his forearm, and he looked to her, then calmed down. "As you can see, I'm here. And I'm up for anything you or your colleagues want to throw at me," she said, sweet as treacle.

"Throw at you?" The man's tone was all innocence, even as an evil glint shone in his eyes. "We certainly would never do anything to someone so... peripheral to the royal family. And if you're referring to our little disagreement during the trade conference, I assure you, it wasn't personal."

"And planting the story about me to the morning show here in Fervia?" Clara asked, her tone mild. "I suppose that wasn't personal, either."

"We didn't have anything to do with that." The minister looked at his nails with feigned boredom. "Why would we bother?"

"That was what I asked them... when they told me that their source for the story was a member of the Aldland press corps."

The minister spluttered. "That... that's..."

"I imagine they normally protect their sources," Clara said, then nailed the coffin shut. "But they are loyal to Fervia. And when I pointed out that I'm going to be a princess in Fervia, and that what they were doing came dangerously close to libel, they were amazingly helpful in pointing me to the real culprit."

The minister turned an angry, embarrassed red. He turned to Erik. "So you're going to be marrying this... her," he all but spat out. "And you're going to allow her to take the lead on all political stances for you? Just going to sit there doodling at the trade table while your wife makes all your decisions for you?"

"No, I’m not," Erik said firmly. "Because I don't plan on sitting at any more trade tables. This will be Clara’s area. I am focusing on my career in music composition.”

Clara turned to him, shocked. He hadn't mentioned it. But now that he had, she could see the quiet joy in his expression. She hugged his side, hoping he could feel her encouragement and love.

"Clara is a gifted politician," Erik continued. "She's going to be an asset to Fervia, and its people."

"We're looking forward to working with Clara in the future," Prince Ben added, throwing his support in, while Prince Nic nodded his agreement.

The Finance Minister's jaw clenched, and the vein at his temple pulsed. He was obviously furious. "I can't imagine that the Lion of Fervia is going to be thrilled that a London commoner is going to be making major political decisions for his country!"

"Ahem."

They turned. The King was there, flanked by Pelle and Aliana. Pelle looked irritated, Aliana dismissive. But King Elias was obviously furious, his frown one that had made men cower.

"Clara is going to be my daughter-in-law," he said, in a firm tone that carried to every corner of the ballroom. "Her input, as is Aliana's, is invaluable. And any disrespect shown to her is disrespect shown to me, and to Fervia."

Screw around,his expression said, and see what happens.

The Finance Minister blanched. With that, he mumbled some sort of apology, and retreated with his delegation, exiting the ballroom entirely.

Clara felt her heart race. She'd done it. She'd faced her fear, stood up for what she wanted. She loved Erik. She deserved to be here.

This was what it felt like, to take a risk... and win.