Royals: His Hidden Secret: Revealed: A Prince and A Pregnancy / Date with a Surgeon Prince / The Secret King. Kelly Hunter

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       Chapter Eight

      RAFAEL brought the car to a smooth halt beside the tiny village parkland. Simone stifled a sigh. They’d spent the last two days on the road and the last two nights sleeping in farmhouse pensions, and, if Simone’s Spanish sign reading served her correctly, they had just entered the territory of Maracey. Rather than push on to the vineyard estate, though, Rafael had stopped for a break.

      In a moment the angelic-looking man occupying the driver’s seat would turn towards her and ask her if she needed to stretch her legs or see to her toilette, or if she would like a drink or something to eat. He would look at her as if she were made of glass and she would glance down just to check that she wasn’t, at which point she would look back up at him as if he’d gone mad.

      Because, clearly, he had.

      ‘Why have we stopped?’ she asked sweetly. ‘Again.’

      ‘Puppy pit stop,’ he said.

      The puppy lay fast asleep at Simone’s feet.

      Rafael got out of the car and scanned his surroundings before leaning back down again to study her intently. ‘Care for a walk? Drink? Something to eat?’

      A kind woman would have said no, and that she was just fine thank you because she’d walked, drunk and eaten less than two hours ago. A kind woman would have reassured him that pregnancy was a perfectly natural state for a woman and did not require such solicitousness on his part. Only a terrible woman would send the man off in search of some exotic juice that he’d never be able to find in a small village shop.

      ‘I’m thinking kiwi-fruit juice,’ she said airily.

      ‘Kiwi-fruit juice.’

      ‘Oh, yes. You see, kiwi fruit is green and green is good for the baby. I’ve been reading up on these things.’

      ‘Right,’ he said distractedly. ‘Green.’

      ‘And chicken.’ Was it lunch time? Simone glanced at the dashboard clock. Close enough. ‘I’d like some fried chicken too.’

      ‘Right,’ he said again and off he went. Man on a mission.

      ‘Come on, Ruby,’ Simone told the puppy as she nudged her awake and scooped her up. ‘He wants us to walk.’

      By the time Rafael returned some twenty minutes later, Simone and Ruby had done all the walking they intended to do and Simone had fished the picnic blanket from the car and spread it out beneath the dappled shade of an old oak tree. She’d just settled down on her back to partake of a tiny snooze when Rafael returned with lunch.

      ‘Are you ill?’ he said abruptly. ‘How are you feeling?’

      ‘Fine,’ she said, sitting up and regarding him with no little exasperation, while Ruby greeted him ecstatically. ‘I’m feeling fine. Blooming marvellous.’

      Rafe’s gaze sped to her stomach. Oh, yes. This baby business had messed with his mind, good and proper.

      ‘I couldn’t find any kiwi-fruit juice,’ he said and handed her a white polystyrene hot food container. Simone opened the lid, expecting chicken. She shut it again fast.

      ‘I had them pick it and prepare it for you,’ said Rafael.

      She peeked again. ‘What is it?’

      ‘Boiled spinach.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘It’s green,’ he said helpfully.

      ‘It certainly is.’ And it served her right. She eyed the larger plastic bag he carried hopefully. Ruby eyed it too. ‘Is there chicken?’

      ‘Yes.’ He studied her again, as if examining her for flaws. ‘Gabrielle said you weren’t eating properly.’

      ‘Gabrielle exaggerates.’

      ‘Or sleeping properly.’

      That one was true. ‘Let’s just say that trying to figure out how and when to tell you about this baby was weighing on my mind. I know there are still a lot of decisions to be made about what we’re going to do from here on in, but at least that bit’s done.’

      ‘So you’ve been sleeping a little easier?’

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