Sovalon Royals: The Complete Series Read online

  Marcus turned the radio up as loud as he could handle, hoping that the music would block out his thoughts, but even his heavy metal playlist couldn’t take his mind off of what had happened with the photographers at the estate. He pressed his foot into the gas pedal, pushing the speed limit and beating himself up over exposing Kyra to the paparazzi like that. He winced as he imagined how the press would react if they discovered she was carrying his baby. He could just imagine the headline.

  Playboy Prince’s New American Fling—KNOCKED UP.

  He closed his eyes briefly at the horrific thought. Maybe his child would be better off far away from Sovalon, sheltered from him and his bad rep. Everywhere he went, he drew the wrong kind of attention, and he didn’t want that for his son or daughter. An innocent child didn’t deserve to have to carry around the weight of his or her father’s mistakes.

  He sighed miserably, wishing he could go back and change some of the decisions he’d made. Just then, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the number. It was his father.

  “How was your visit to the estate?” his father asked. No hello or how are you, son. King Hanson got right to the point.

  Marcus took a deep breath. “The estate is in perfect condition, Father. It’s a great location for the shelter,” he said. “All in all, I’d say the visit went really well.”

  “So, I’ve heard,” Marcus detected something snide in his father’s voice, and before he could ask, King Hanson continued. “Word is that you and your fellow board member from America became quite cozy during your stay.”

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Of course his father had found out as soon as the paps got involved.

  He cleared his throat and tried not to reveal the eye roll in his voice. “I don’t know what you mean by cozy, Father, but yes, Kyra and I have a connection. I like and respect her very much.”

  “You respect her?”

  “I do,” Marcus said. “She’s unlike any other woman I’ve ever met. She’s—”

  “Pregnant,” the king said, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence.

  “What?” Marcus went cold.

  “The American,” his father repeated. “She’s pregnant.”

  “But how did you—”

  “A staff member found the test in the trash can, Marcus,” King Hanson said. “At least she had the sense to come to us to see if we would make it worth her while not to go to the tabloids with it.”

  Marcus found himself stuttering for a moment, trying to get his thoughts together.

  “Well, this wasn’t exactly how I wanted you to find out, Father. Does Mother know?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Marcus,” his father said coldly. “Your little American will take this problem back to the US with her when she goes. No one is to know about this. I want it to disappear.”

  A chill ran down Marcus’s arms. How could his father be so callous about Kyra’s pregnancy? It was his grandchild.

  “Kyra’s not looking for money or status if that’s what you think,” Marcus said. “She’s a good person. We had a nice time together, and this just happened.”

  “You hardly know the woman, Marcus. How can you judge her character?” he asked. “Regardless, I don’t need illegitimate heirs running around out there.”

  Marcus felt bile rise in his throat, his anger threatening to spill out of him in a host of words he would later regret. He took a deep breath through flared nostrils and blew it out his lips.

  “As the youngest son, any children I might have would hardly be heirs to the crown,” he said. He was fuming but trying his best to be logical. “Honestly, Father, this is my situation to handle how I see fit. I’m not asking for your help or permission here.”

  “Marcus, please. What do you foresee here? That the two of you will live happily ever after? Get real, son. You know you’ll find a way to mess this up like you do everything else in your life.”

  The acid in his father’s voice sliced into him, rendering him silent.

  “It’ll only be a matter of time before your American comes looking for a payday after you screw up and cheat on her.”

  The words were a punch to Marcus’s gut.

  But, he thought, they weren’t undeserved. Marcus was no stranger to screwing up.

  “Marcus, I’ve got another call coming in,” his father said sternly. “I’ll speak with you soon.”

  The line went dead, leaving Marcus wondering if maybe his father’s presumptions were true. He had known the king wouldn’t react well to the discovery of Kyra’s pregnancy, but he hadn’t expected this. He couldn’t believe his father wanted Kyra and the baby to just disappear. Could he ask this of Marcus?

  Then again, maybe Kyra leaving for good would be for the best.

  Not for Marcus, of course, but for her and their child.

  Maybe a playboy prince like himself didn’t deserve a chance to get it right after all.

  10

  Kyra stood at the bathroom sink in her hotel suite back in Sovalon, washing the day from her face. She’d unpacked hers and Ava’s bags and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. She was so comfortably tired she felt like she could drift off to sleep any minute. Every muscle in her body was loose and just a little bit sore from last night with Marcus, but she couldn’t complain. It was a good type of fatigue, the kind that lets you crawl under the sheets and drift right to sleep without tossing and turning or overthinking a thing. She yawned and heard the hotel door room click.

  “I’m baaack,” Maggie called, and Kyra’s mood immediately went from relaxed to annoyed. She walked into the sitting room where Ava was curled up watching television.

  “Mommy!” Ava cried and raced to hug Maggie.

  “Hi, baby,” Maggie said and planted a kiss on Ava’s forehead. “I sure missed you!” Kyra saw her sister notice Ava’s bright pink cast. Her expression darkened. “What happened?”

  Ava made a fake pouty face. “I broke my ankle,” she said.

  Maggie looked up at Kyra with a questioning look on her face.

  “I would have told you, but I didn’t see the point, considering you were a few countries away.” The tone in Kyra’s voice was meant to be accusing. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at her sister. “There wasn’t much you could do for her from Barcelona, Mags.”

  “I’m her mother!” Maggie seemed incensed. As usual, her emotions went from cold to hot in less time than it took to say the alphabet. Maggie loved drama, and at the moment, Kyra had no use for it.

  “Maggie, can I talk to you in the bedroom please?” Kyra turned and walked coolly into the master suite, knowing her sister would follow. Kyra preferred not to say what she had to in front of Ava. She didn’t want to upset her niece, but Maggie needed a firm talking to.

  “Sit down.” Kyra pointed Maggie to the oversized chair beside the desk and Maggie did as she was told. As usual, Kyra was more like the parent than the sister. Maggie crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, and Kyra lit into her.

  “When are you going to grow up?” she asked, and Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your little extended jaunt to Spain. While you were flitting around in bad weather, I had to bring Ava with me on a work trip.” She put air quotes around her weather comment to home in on the fact that she didn’t believe Maggie’s bullshit story.

  “Kyra, I’m sorry. I was genuinely stranded. The trains were—”

  “The weather wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t decided to put yourself in a different country from your daughter. You could have stayed here with her—or gone to Barcelona and taken her with you. But you made the choice not to. I don’t want to hear your excuses, Maggie.” Kyra placed a hand up to signal that she’d had enough of her sister’s games. “You need to step up and learn some responsibility.”

  Maggie’s eyes caught fire at Kyra’s words. “You think I don’t know about responsibility?” S
he stood from her chair and took a step toward Kyra. “I’ve been working my ass off to try to make a better life for us. I know I’ve made mistakes that got me where I am now, but I’m trying to change.”

  Kyra looked away from her sister’s eyes. She didn’t want to be sympathetic. She wanted to be hard on Maggie for once, but it was difficult. She loved her sister and hated seeing her struggle.

  “It’s not easy to get where you want to be in life when you’re always trying to play catch up.” Maggie shook her head. “All you ever see is my past mistakes. Every time you look at me, you judge me for the bad decisions I made in the past. Why can’t you see the person I’m trying to become?”

  Kyra shook her head. “Right now, we’re talking about decisions you made this week. I’m not holding the past against you—I’m asking you to take a hard look at your present.”

  “I told you I was stranded.”

  “Save it, Maggie,” Kyra said, her words coming out colder than she’d intended. “I’m done with your words. If you’re so responsible, then show it.”

  Maggie sighed. She turned away from Kyra and walked back into the sitting room. Kyra heard her plop down next to Ava.

  “Hey, baby, you want to go do a little sightseeing with me?”

  “Umm, it might be hard to walk a lot with my crutches,” Ava said innocently.

  “Oh, you’re right,” Maggie said. “How about we just go find a place to get some ice cream then?”

  “Okay!”

  Kyra stayed in her bedroom while Maggie and Ava got themselves ready to go out. When she heard the hotel door click shut, a twinge of guilt passed through her. She’d been pretty tough on Maggie.

  But maybe Maggie needed tough love. Somebody had to tell her straight. If Kyra had done it years ago, then maybe they wouldn’t have ended up in this situation in the first place.

  Kyra went to the mini fridge and dug out a bottle of sparkling water. She poured herself a glass and sat down at the corner desk where her laptop was set up. She’d been tired before, but now her mind was buzzing after arguing with Maggie. Might as well get some work done.

  She opened up a new document and began writing a summary on the suitability of the estate for the women’s shelter. In summary, the property was highly suitable, and the repairs made it immediately inhabitable—but it would still require some upgrades for the long term. The roof, although safe, would need to be replaced within the next few years. The windows were old and also needed to be updated. A French drain would have to be installed in the basement of the house.

  There was still much to do. The cost would be substantial.

  Kyra attached the document to an email and sent it off to the board, then opened up a new tab and began cruising around online, mindlessly, checking social media platforms to catch up with what was going on back stateside.

  In her feed, she suddenly saw a link with a picture of her own face—plus a picture of her and Ava at the estate.

  “What the hell?”

  She clicked on the picture and was redirected to an online gossip column called TELL. Even though she couldn’t stop herself from reading, she was disgusted by every word. The title alone made her want to throw up.

  Playing Both Sides of The Field?

  Playboy Prince, Marcus Ashton, is at it again. As if his sultry affair with Marta Quigley of the Lancaster Quigleys wasn’t enough, Ashton is trying his hand at an American game. Miss Kyra Rogers, from Atlanta, Georgia, is the prince’s newest novelty. The two are working together on a government project and were caught sharing a hot kiss at an old estate home in Havershire. It’s possible that Miss Rogers has a young daughter, who is also pictured. Ashton looks quite cozy with both Rogers and the little girl. But for those of you wondering if he’s ready to settle down and play daddy, his most recent lover, Marta Quigley, told TELL reporters that Ashton is anything but serious.

  “Prince Marcus and I shared the most amazing nights together—but I soon learned he wasn’t reliable. He promised to rescue me from the arranged marriage I’m being forced into, but he never came.”

  Marta is clearly heartbroken, but it looked as if Marcus has moved on. What will come of the American? Will Prince Marcus tire of her and toss her on the shelf with his other used-up baubles?

  Only time will TELL.

  Kyra’s stomach roiled as she closed her laptop. Logically she knew that TELL was nothing but a gossip rag, but the story had played to her emotions and left her doubting. Had Marcus really promised to go to Lancaster for this Marta girl? How many baubles were on his shelf?

  Jesus. What had she gotten herself into? She placed a hand on her abdomen, thinking of the child she was carrying and the type of father he or she would have.

  Just then her phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Marcus.

  She hit ignore. She just wasn’t ready to talk with him right now.

  Marcus had seemed so genuine, so sincere about stepping up to the plate and being responsible for their child. He’d seemed to enjoy spending time with Ava. And as for her, there was no question about the physical and emotional connection between the two of them.

  But had he been just as sincere with Marta Quigley?

  Was Kyra being hoodwinked?

  Her phone buzzed again, and once more she hit ignore.

  He would have to wait.

  But he didn’t. Fifteen minutes later, while Kyra was still sitting at her desk mulling over her doubts of Marcus, there was a loud rap on her hotel door. She looked through the peephole, and her heart skipped a beat. At once, she was both angry at him because of the sordid news article and happy to see him standing at her door, looking anxious.

  Kyra opened the door, and before she could say anything, he pushed just inside.

  “Kyra, please, I can explain, I promise,” he said and took her hands into his. In spite of herself, she loved the feel of his skin on hers, wanted to kiss him even though he was a player by all accounts.

  “You seem to make a lot of promises, Marcus, but according to your last fling, you can’t keep them.”

  Marcus’s face twisted, and Kyra realized her words had hit hard.

  “I never promised any of those things. I didn’t even know Marta was engaged—I didn’t find out until the tabloids splashed it around, and we haven’t been in contact since,” he said. “The affair with Marta was a stupid mistake, but I don’t regret it.”

  His words were a slap in the face. He didn’t regret it? “Oh, really?” she asked, crossing her arms defensively.

  “No, I don’t,” he said. “It led me to you. If I hadn’t messed up, my father never would have forced me to work on the women’s shelter, and I never would have met you.”

  Kyra’s shoulders relaxed, and when he pulled her close, she let him. Why did life have to be so complicated? Her feelings for Marcus were strong, but so were her doubts. She wanted to embrace his earnest desire to be a part of her life, their baby’s life, but the last thing she wanted was to be plastered on the cover of gossip mags every other week. There was also the matter of her heart. If Marcus was the Casanova the media made him out to be, she didn’t want to risk getting too close and then getting hurt.

  “Will you give me the benefit of the doubt, please?” he whispered into her ear.

  She looked up at him and breathed a deep sigh. “This is a lot for me,” she admitted. “I’ve never had my picture in the paper before.”

  He laughed, but she knew he caught her message.

  “I just need some time to digest all of this,” she continued.

  “Fair enough,” he said and squeezed her hand.

  “Why don’t you come in, and we can talk about the financial issues with the estate.”

  “Sure,” he said, and they relocated to the couch.

  Kyra brought her paperwork to Marcus to have a look at.

  “It’s a fair amount of work, but with the right backing, it won’t be impossible to raise the funds needed for the repairs.”

  Marcus set the pa
pers on the coffee table in front of them and smiled at Kyra. “Oddly enough, I was able to schedule a meeting with a potential investor for tonight.”

  “How’d you manage that so soon?”

  “I had some time on my drive home today, so I reached out to an entrepreneur I thought would take an interest in the project.”

  “That’s great, Marcus.”

  He nodded and patted her leg then eyed her with hope. “Will you come with me?” he asked. “We’re meeting for dinner, and it would be great to have you join us.”

  It was tempting. She wanted to spend time with him, but she really needed to distance herself from him for a bit, to wrap her head around everything that had happened today. Also, she was exhausted.

  “Thanks for asking, but I’m going to have to pass,” she said. “I’m planning on having a movie night with my sister and Ava. They leave tomorrow.”

  Marcus studied her face as if he wasn’t sure he believed her. Clearly disappointed, he nodded. “I understand. But is everything okay? With us?”

  “Everything’s fine,” she said, not sure if it actually was or not. “Now go get the money we need to fix the roof at the estate.”

  “All right,” he said and stood from the couch. “Tell Princess Ava goodbye for me.”

  Marcus leaned in to kiss her, and she made sure it was just a brief brush on the lips.

  “Goodnight,” she said and closed the hotel door behind him.

  Marcus fought the urge to yawn as chatter and background music lit up the space around him at Dish, the busy, upscale restaurant where he waited at the bar for the potential investor. The scent of expensive cologne, perfumes, and piney gin filled up his senses. Usually, he enjoyed posh spots like this one, but tonight he was uncharacteristically tired—or maybe just tired of the scene. He found himself wishing he was having a movie night with Kyra and Ava.

  “Prince Marcus?” A man’s voice got his attention from behind. He swiveled around in his bar stool and met the eyes of a man just about his age. He’d expected the guy to be older.