Soldier Prince's Secret Baby Gift

She didn’t even know what to call him.

Your Royal Highness? Prince Antonio?

Considering that they’d spent the night together…

It was all too much for her. She didn’t want to stay in this cold, formal palace a minute longer than she had to. She wanted to leave. Now. ‘Excuse me. I have a flight to catch.’ She stood up, gathered her coat under her arm and turned away.

Antonio reached out and touched her shoulder, gently making her turn to face him again. ‘Tia. Please stay. We need to talk.’

Even though there was soft cotton between his skin and hers, the contact was enough to stir up old memories, making her skin tingle. Which was completely inappropriate, and it made her feel so out of sorts that she snapped, ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’

His gaze flicked down to her bump and up to her face again. ‘I rather think there is.’

‘Look, I’m not expecting anything from you. I haven’t come here looking for financial support or anything like that. I’m not planning to sell an exclusive to the gossip columns. I just thought you had a right to know about the baby’s existence, that’s all.’

‘Thank you for telling me. And I’m sorry that the palace made it difficult for you to get in touch with me.’

So was she. But, when she thought about it, she could kind of understand it. ‘You’re a prince. For all they knew, I could’ve been some crazed stalker.’

‘You’re the sister of my best friend,’ Antonio said.

And the mother of his child. Though he hadn’t said as much.

‘And yet again I owe you an apology. I seem to be making a habit of not contacting you.’

He could say that again.

He’d done it twice now. She wasn’t setting herself up for a third mistake, where Antonio Valenti was concerned. How did the saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

She’d been quite enough of a fool. Though at least he wasn’t offering some flimsy excuse. On the other hand, a simple ‘sorry’ might have been nice. He’d said he owed her an apology, but he hadn’t actually given her an apology, had he?

‘Tia, please stay. I’m still in the middle of processing the fact that I’m going to be a father,’ he said. ‘And we have a lot to talk about. But, first, I’m going to organise that cup of tea. And you’ve come all the way from London, so I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat.’

‘I had a sandwich on the plane.’ Half a sandwich. It had made her feel sick. Or maybe that had been nerves at the idea of coming here to tell Antonio about the baby.

‘Airline food,’ Antonio said, ‘isn’t the most wonderful.’

‘I don’t want to bother your kitchen staff.’

He smiled. ‘You won’t be bothering them. Come to my apartment. I’ll make you a mug of tea and a sandwich myself. Or pasta.’ He spread his hands. ‘Or whatever it is you’d like to eat.’

She blinked at him, trying to take it in. He was offering to make her some food? Seriously? ‘But princes don’t cook.’

‘They do if they’re in the army,’ he said. ‘If they want their team to respect them, they take their turn doing everything. And I mean everything. I’ve done my share of cleaning duties, too.’

‘Oh.’ She really hadn’t expected that. Even though he’d made her a mug of tea himself, that night in London.

‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘And I’ll carry your bags.’

‘I don’t have any luggage. I have a seat on the late flight back to London via Rome, tonight,’ she said. ‘I only came to tell you about the baby. I wasn’t planning to stay.’

‘Don’t go. Please.’ He blew out a breath. ‘We really do have a lot to talk about. I don’t know if you’ve followed the news about Casavalle, but an awful lot has been going on here. It’s wall-to-wall scandal sheet stuff. The media is going to take one look at you, rub their hands with glee and start digging for more scandal.’

She hadn’t thought of that. ‘But they don’t know why I’m here.’

‘They’ll speculate. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. They’ll suggest whatever gives them the most readers. They’ll talk to anyone who knows you and dredge up any hint of scandal. Your mother is going to be a sitting target for them. From now until at least when the baby’s born, you’re all going to need my protection,’ he continued. ‘Which includes the help of Miles Montague. And, as you know, almost nothing gets through Miles. Even when sometimes it should.’

There was a rap on the office door.

‘Yes,’ Antonio said.

The palace secretary himself opened the door to his office. ‘Sir? Miss Phillips? Is everything all right?’ he asked, looking concerned.

‘It will be,’ Antonio said. ‘Miles, I’ll brief you properly later. But for now this isn’t to be discussed anywhere or with anyone—and that includes my mother, Luca and Gabriella.’

There was a slight note of warning in his tone, and the older man flushed as he walked over to his desk. ‘Of course, sir.’

Antonio sighed. ‘I’ll talk to them when I’m ready,’ he said, and this time his voice was a little gentler. ‘If anyone needs me urgently in the next hour or so, we’ll be in my apartment. But I’d appreciate it if you could stall anyone if possible, Miles. Tia and I really need to talk in private and without interruptions.’

‘Of course. If you need anything…’

Antonio patted his shoulder. ‘You’re there. I know. And I’m grateful for that.’

Miles nodded, then looked at Tia, his expression awkward. ‘I apologise, Miss Phillips, for earlier. When you called the office, and when you first came here.’

It had upset her, but she could understand why he’d acted that way. ‘You were doing your job,’ she said. ‘Protecting the Prince.’

‘And Tia’s going to be under your protection now, too,’ Antonio said. ‘I’ll brief you shortly. Tia, come with me.’ He looked at her and added swiftly, ‘Please.’

Good. Because she wasn’t Antonio’s subject or his employee, and she wasn’t going to let him order her about.

The palace had seemed daunting enough from the outside: a massive white stone building with towers and turrets and spires and huge windows; a long driveway lined with enormous Norway spruces covered alternately with blue and white lights; and huge entrance doors at the top of the sweeping granite steps. Tia had found the interior even more daunting, with the enormous foyer that felt more like a cathedral space, with a Christmas tree that had to be a good forty feet tall; the angel on top was close to touching the ceiling, and it was beautifully decorated with what looked like priceless one-of-a-kind baubles, one of which seemed to be in a special display. Crowds actually came in to the palace to see the tree, which was how Tia had managed to slip in and ask to see the palace secretary in the first place.

It was magnificent. But it was also very formal, and it didn’t leave her with the warmth she felt with their own Christmas tree back in London, with its decorations that had been collected year after year by her mother and every single one of them had meaning and memories. Their rather threadbare artificial Christmas tree didn’t go up until the week before Christmas; here, it was early November and already everything was in its place. Then again, she supposed, things were different with the public rooms of a palace; visitors would expect to see decorations on display this early.

Behind the beautiful garlands of fir and pine on the mantels and staircases, the rooms were richly decorated, with cream walls and lots of gold everywhere. There were huge windows, large mirrors that reflected the light back from the windows and the crystal and gold chandeliers and made the rooms seem even more massive, ceilings covered with priceless paintings, Christmas trees in every room whose decorations she suspected had been put in place with a ruler measuring the precise distance between each one, enormous exotic poinsettias gracing side tables, sweeping staircases leading into long corridors, luxurious carpets you literally sank into as you walked on them…

It was another world, one where the likes of Tia could never fit in.

And it was overwhelming.

Tia was aware that Antonio was talking to her as he ushered her up the sweeping staircase to his first-floor apartment, but she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. All she could see was the regal magnificence of their surroundings, and it left her feeling more and more out of place.

Finally he opened a door and indicated to her to enter.

His sitting room was much more ordinary than the rest of the palace. The furniture here didn’t look too antique and too priceless to touch, let alone sit on, and to her relief there was much less gold in evidence. There were photographs on the mantelpiece in what looked like solid gold frames, mainly of what she assumed was Antonio’s family; but there were also photographs of Antonio’s team in the army, and tears pricked her eyelids when she recognised her brother among them.

‘Let me get you that tea,’ Antonio said, ushering her into the kitchen—a sizeable room by normal standards, but thankfully smaller than the rooms she’d seen so far in the palace.

‘Thank you. That would be nice.’

‘What would you like to eat?’

She shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I’m not really hungry.’

He gave her a speaking look. ‘You’re pregnant. You need to eat.’

She didn’t reply but, a couple of minutes later, she found herself sitting at his kitchen table with a mug of tea made just how she liked it and a chicken salad sandwich.

‘I really didn’t expect you to—’ she began.

‘Eat,’ he cut in. ‘Then we’ll talk.’

It left her with no choice but to follow his instructions. And she had to admit that the sandwich and the mug of tea did make her feel better. He didn’t say a word until she’d finished, simply sipped his tea.

And then he looked at her. ‘OK. So, first off,’ he said gently, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Really fine? Because I know some women have a tough time in pregnancy.’

She shrugged. ‘I had a bit of morning sickness in the early weeks. Nothing out of the usual.’ She opened her handbag, took out a photograph and handed it to him. ‘I wanted to give you this.’

‘Thank you,’ he said politely.

‘It’s our baby. From the twenty-week scan, last month.’

‘Our baby,’ he echoed.

She still had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, what he was feeling. His voice and his face were completely expressionless as he looked at the photograph. On the surface he was all urbane charm, just as a prince should be. But was he shocked? Horrified? Secretly pleased? She didn’t have a clue. Who was the real man behind the royal facade?

‘So,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask you the difficult question first. Do you plan to keep the baby?’

‘It’s way too late for a termination.’ Not that she’d wanted that, in any case.

‘I didn’t mean that. Were you planning to give the baby up for adoption after the birth?’

‘No.’

‘So you’re keeping him. Or her.’

Not ‘it’. She was grateful that at least he hadn’t said that. ‘Yes.’

‘Then I have financial responsibilities towards you.’

‘That isn’t why I came. I can manage.’ It would be a struggle, but she was used to that. She’d muddle through, the way she always had, working whatever hours she could fit in around the baby and her mum.

‘Tia, this is a Valenti baby,’ he said. ‘There are expectations. If nothing else, this baby…’ He sucked in a breath. ‘The way things stand, this baby could be fourth in line to the throne.’

She looked at him in shock. ‘What? How?’

‘It’s been a bit complicated around here. Which is why I didn’t get in touch with you after… London.’

The night they’d spent together.

The night that clearly hadn’t meant anything to him.

The night that had resulted in their baby.

‘Uh-huh,’ she said, in an attempt to be as cool and calm and collected as he seemed, though inside she wanted to yell at him.

‘You left me that note and I fully intended to call you later that day, after your shift,’ Antonio said. ‘But, that morning, my mother called me to tell me about Gabriella—my father’s daughter from his first marriage, except none of us had any idea she even existed until quite recently. My mother needed to talk to me about it and help her decide how to deal with the situation. She wanted to talk to me because Luca already had enough on his plate, ruling the country and preparing to be King. I had to come straight back to Casavalle, because my family needed me.’

Tia could understand that. It was the same for her and for Nathan: they’d been there for their mother because she was their family and she needed them.

‘And I’m afraid my mind was so focused on the situation at home, I didn’t think to contact you. I’m sorry.’

Tia had been hurt when Antonio hadn’t been in touch after the charity gala, even though she knew she was being ridiculous about it: of course a prince wasn’t going to fall for a mere waitress. Of course he wanted nothing more from her than their night of passion. It had been a one-off thing. But now she was seeing things from a different perspective. Antonio was part of a much bigger picture.

‘At the moment we’re waiting for DNA results, but my mother, Luca and I all think it’s very probable that Gabriella is indeed the oldest child of our father, which means she’s entitled to accede to the throne and rule Casavalle. She has no children, which makes my brother Luca her heir and puts him second in line to the throne. Luca also has no children; although Princess Meribel, his former fiancée, is pregnant, the baby isn’t Luca’s. So that makes me Luca’s heir and third in line to the throne; and that means our baby is my heir and fourth in line to the throne.’ He shrugged. ‘Though if we’re wrong about the DNA test or Gabriella decides not to accede to the throne, then everything shifts up one place and our baby will be third in line.’

It hadn’t really hit home until that moment, but Tia realised right then that her baby was of royal blood.

A baby in line for a crown.

‘I…’ She tailed off, hardly able to take in the enormity of the situation.

‘As I said,’ Antonio continued quietly, ‘it’s been a little complicated around here. Luca’s wedding to Meribel has been planned for a very long time. But Meribel told Luca on the eve of their wedding that she was in love with someone else and was pregnant with his baby, so she couldn’t go through with marrying him. We agreed with her family that we’d say the wedding was cancelled due to irreconcilable differences, though the people of Aguilarez—Meribel’s kingdom, on the other side of the mountains—assumed that meant Luca had practically jilted her at the altar, and they blamed him for the wedding not happening.

‘It was politically…’ He grimaced. ‘Let’s just say it was a bit sensitive. If we didn’t tell the truth, it could lead to a great deal of discord between our countries. Yet if we told the truth—that Meribel was the one to have the affair—then it would be putting the blame on her, and that would be dishonourable.’

Tia didn’t quite understand that. ‘How could it be dishonourable when she was the one who had the affair?’

‘It’s still dishonourable,’ Antonio insisted.

‘So whatever you did, you’d lose,’ Tia said slowly.

‘Something like that. Except then someone leaked the truth of the matter. Not from our side,’ he was quick to clarify. ‘Meribel is in hiding right now, and it feels as if the media has put Casavalle under a microscope, scrutinising every move any of us makes and spotting every potential scandal.’ He looked at her. ‘Someone in the palace will have noticed you, and they will have heard you ask to speak to Miles. They will definitely have noticed your bump. So people will be asking questions about you—who are you, and why did you want to speak to the palace secretary? Whose baby are you carrying? They’ll be watching for you to leave the palace.

‘And the paparazzi don’t play nice, Tia. They’ll strike up a conversation at the airport and you’ll think you’re simply chatting to another passenger to pass the time. They’ll ask all kinds of questions and pump you for information without you even knowing what they’re doing, and the next thing you know it’ll be all over the media. They’ll dig on the Internet and they’ll know everything about you before you get back to London—where you live, where you work, all about your mother’s health. They’ll follow you and they’ll doorstep you.’

‘Doorstep me?’ She didn’t understand.

‘They’ll wait outside your front door in a gaggle. The back door, too. There’s no escape from them. The second you open any door, the flashbulbs will go off and they’ll be yelling your name and asking you questions. If you’ve ever seen it happen in a film, I can assure you that it’s been romanticised. In real life, it’s much harsher. You have to push your way through the mob, and all the time there will be microphones shoved in your face and flashbulbs going off and people yelling.

‘If you say anything, it’ll be spun to suit their agenda. If you say nothing, then they’ll speculate, and they’ll do it with the nastiest implications—and you won’t be able to protest because they’ll claim they’re asking questions, not making a statement. Your life won’t be your own.’

That hadn’t occurred to her. She’d simply thought to let Antonio know that their night together had had consequences, then quietly go back to London. ‘I… Look, if there’s a way you can get me from the palace to the airport without them seeing me, then I promise not to talk to a single person until I’m back home with my mum.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s already too late for that. As I said, things have been complicated around here lately.’

And she’d just added another complication to his life. An illegitimate baby.

Her misery must’ve shown in her expression, because he took her hand. ‘Tia. I know neither of us planned this. But you have my support now and you definitely need my protection. I think we both need to get our heads round the situation, and the middle of a royal palace isn’t the best place to do that. I know somewhere quiet we can go for a few days that will give us a chance to think things through and talk about the future.’

‘But I wasn’t planning to stay here, not even for a night. I don’t have even a toothbrush with me, let alone any clean clothes,’ Tia protested. ‘And my mum’s expecting me back home tonight.’

‘Then call her. Tell her that you’re staying here for a little while.’ He paused. ‘Give me three days, Tia.’

‘Three days?’ Tia was horrified. ‘What if Mum needs me?’

‘Do you have a neighbour or a friend nearby who can keep an eye out for her?’ Antonio asked. ‘Or I can arrange for a nurse to come in and help her, if you prefer.’ He looked at her. ‘I apologise. Nathan didn’t tell me much about your mother’s condition, other than that she’d been poorly since you were small. And I was brought up not to ask personal questions. So I’m afraid I don’t know how ill she is.’

‘Mum has chronic fatigue syndrome,’ Tia said. ‘It used to be called ME—myalgic encephalomyelitis.’

When Antonio looked blank, she continued, ‘After Dad was killed in action, Mum went down with a virus, and we think that’s what triggered the CFS because she never really recovered. It’s a bit like having the flu, with joint pains and a headache you simply can’t shift, and absolute exhaustion—but it doesn’t go away after a couple of weeks, like the flu does. She has it all the time. So she needs to rest a lot.

‘It’s a variable condition; some days she’s fine and to look at her you’d never know she was ill, and other days she can barely get out of bed. And she’s not lazy or stupid. It’s not like when you’re feeling just a bit tired after a busy day—she gets absolutely exhausted and physically can’t do anything. If she has a day when she’s feeling really well and overdoes things, then she’ll really pay for it for a few days afterwards. She has to be careful.’

‘And you look after her?’

‘Yes, and I don’t begrudge a second of it. I love her. She’s my mum.’ Growing up, Tia had had days when she’d wished her life had been more like that of her friends, where she’d had time to do homework and hang out with her friends and meet boys, instead of struggling to keep up with her studies and worrying that her mum’s condition was getting worse, and never starting a relationship because she knew it couldn’t go anywhere. But she’d done her best to hide it from her mother, because she loved Grace and didn’t want her mother to feel as if she was a burden.

Grace had encouraged her to go out with her friends, but Tia didn’t like leaving her mum, except when she went to work and she was only just round the corner and could rush back if there was an emergency.

‘Tia,’ he said gently, ‘we’re going to need to talk about the best way to support your mother when you have a small baby to look after as well. Because you’re not going to be able to do everything.’

Oh, yes, she could. She always had. ‘It’ll be fine.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’ll manage. We always do.’

Meaning that she’d struggle and drive herself into the ground.

Antonio was shocked by the sheer protectiveness he felt towards her. And it wasn’t just because she was his best friend’s little sister. There was something about Tia Phillips. She was brave and strong and independent, not looking for the easy way out—she’d been very explicit that she expected nothing from him. He admired her courage; yet, at the same time, he wanted to take some of those burdens away. What she’d just told him, in addition to the little that Nathan had let slip, made him realise that she must’ve spent most of her life looking after her mother. She’d never really had a normal childhood.

Well, she didn’t have to struggle any more. He could support her. Though he was pretty sure that her pride would get in the way and she’d refuse any help. So he needed to gain her trust, first. And that meant being specific rather than vague.

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