Page 48 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FELIPEBROUGHTINhis legal team. After a long consultation, Claudine took their advice to lodge a complaint of negligence and harassment against the pageant, since the corporation had yet to be dissolved. Claudine had been a resident of New York when she entered the contest and that was where the pageant headquarters were located, so that was where everything would be filed.
The timing worked with her mother. Ann-Marie would never fully recover the mobility or vision that she had recently lost in one of her eyes, but she was stable and proceeding with a new treatment plan that seemed to be keeping her feeling as well as possible. She was ready to go home to New York where Felipe had a team standing by to help her close up her apartment and move to a new building with better security and a live-in helper.
According to the press release that Felipe arranged, Claudine was assisting her mother with all of that. She was her mother’s liaison with all the workers, but she also swore her statements while she was there.
On her return, Felipe met with his father to warn him that charges against Francois were likely.
“Why the hell did you let it get that far?” the King snarled.
“I told you when I chose Claudine that I would let her dictate when and how she told her story.”
“And I allowed you to marry her believing you would quash it,” Enzo thundered. “You’re supposed to be making less work for me, not more. Have her withdraw her accusations.”
“No.” Felipe wasn’t surprised by his father’s reaction. He wasn’t even angry. He was revolted. “This isn’t a scandal. It’s harassment and assault that could go much further than Francois. Other people could have been taking advantage of contestants. Do you really want to protect all of those abusers?”
His father muttered a number of overripe curses.
“It will take a few weeks for the charges to be filed. Claudine’s statement will be released at that time. Don’t bother using your connections to stop it,” Felipe warned. “She’ll go to the press regardless.”
“You couldn’t wait until you’d made an heir? Your brother is next in line,” his father spelled out as though Felipe was a child without the faculties to understand. “Think about that before you dishonor his name.”
“He dishonors this country,” Felipe insisted grimly. “How do you not see that?”
“He’s all we have until you do your duty.” The King smashed his fist onto his desktop. “Tell your mother.” Enzo seated himself at his desk in the way he did when he was being as rudely dismissive as possible.
“Francois can tell her himself when he’s indicted,” Felipe muttered and walked out.
It was a tense time made worse by the fact Claudine discovered—again—that she wasn’t pregnant. At least, she had a bit of spotting that ruined her day, making her believe she wasn’t, but it disappeared by the next, which was confusing.
“What does that mean?” Felipe asked with a frown of concern.
“I don’t know,” she muttered truculently. “That I’m putting too much pressure on myself? I think it was the trip to New York. It feels like an ax waiting to fall.”
He had told her how things had gone with his father over her statement. Claudine understood the urgency to create an heir, even though she knew that letting the pressure get to her wasn’t helpful.
“One day at a time,” Felipe murmured, rubbing her back. She knew he didn’t blame her for Francois’s behavior or their lack of conception, but guilt dogged her like a black cloud.
Her failure to conceive certainly wasn’t for lack of trying, she thought dourly. They made love as often as possible despite how busy they were. Over the next weeks, they flew to Berlin and Hong Kong, then came back by way of Cairo, which was fascinating, but hot. She caught a glimpse of the pyramids from the airplane, but otherwise it was nothing but parading in gowns and talking business.
She didn’t mind the travel and small talk. She was meeting interesting people, but the only time she seemed to connect with her husband was in bed—where they made love in a pleasured frenzy. Any words they exchanged were sexual, never emotional or personal.
It was frustrating. She wanted...something. Some indication that she meant more to him than the vessel for an heir. Was this all they would ever have between them? Sex and the stratagems of her statement? Because she was feeling very trapped in a prison of her own making.
She was in the library, trying to recall which books he had moved to make the wall open, but it wasn’t working. She was frustrated and feeling stymied and blocked. Not imprisoned, but held by an invisible force, one she couldn’t name.
She didn’twantto name it. To name it was to succumb to it in all its vast glory.
And to recognize that she was alone in feeling this way.
“Oh, Claudine,” she chided herself exactly as her mother might do if she forgot to study or lost her keys or signed up for a pageant even though her mother had expressly asked her not to.
Because what she’d done was go and fall in love with her husband—fathoms deep in love. Which wasn’t a crime. Not by any means. It simply wasn’t wise.
What was she supposed to do now?
She heard the helicopter return, signaling he was back from his latest meetings with his father. She stayed in the library, not even turning when the sound of approaching footsteps arrived behind her with a blast of crackling energy.
