Carrying A King's Child

“What are we going to do?” he asked at last.

Emily pushed away from him and walked over to the window. He knew the view she was afforded from the window. This place had been hard-earned. He’d worked just as hard as his siblings to make Montoro Enterprises into the success it was today.

“I just wanted you to know. Beyond that I don’t need anything. Someday the kid is going to ask about you—”

“Someday? I’m going to be a part of this,” Rafe said.

“I don’t see how. You’re going to be jetting off to Alma to take the throne. My life is here. The baby’s life will be here.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. The timing on this sucked. But he didn’t blame Emily. He’d been running when he went to Key West, afraid to admit that he was in over his head. He was the oldest son. He was Rafael the Fourth, the future king. He should be in command all the time. But the truth was he was lost.

And somehow in Emily’s arms he’d found something.

* * *

Carrying a King’s Child is part of the series Dynasties: The Montoros—One royal family must choose between love and destiny!

Carrying a King’s Child

Katherine Garbera

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHERINE GARBERA is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than fifty books and has always believed in happy endings. She lives in England with her husband, children and their pampered pet, Godiva. Visit Katherine on the web at katherinegarbera.com, or catch up with her on Facebook and Twitter.

This book is for my Facebook posse who are always willing to chat about hot guys, good reads and the general craziness of life.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Extract

Copyright

One

Emily Fielding was shaking as she stepped off the elevator into the foyer of Rafael Montoro IV’s penthouse in South Beach. The Montoros had settled in Miami, Florida, decades ago, when as the royal family of Alma, they had to flee their European island homeland because of a coup. Now the dictator who’d replaced them was dead and the parliament of Alma wanted the Montoros back.

With Rafe as king.

Great. Happy ending for everyone. Well, everyone except for Emily, the bartender who was pregnant with the soon-to-be-king’s baby. Or at least that was what her gut told her. Her gut and three home pregnancy tests. She wasn’t easy to convince.

She had debated not telling Rafe about the baby, but having grown up without knowing who her father was, she just couldn’t do that to her own child. Sure, she’d had to lie to get up here to his very posh penthouse apartment, and she knew her timing sucked because Rafe had a lot of royal duties to attend to before his coronation, but she was still here.

Getting past security hadn’t been that easy, but she’d made a few calls to friends and found that one of them had a connection to Rafe via a maid service. So she’d used Maria’s pass to get into the gated community and her key to get into his building.

Sneaking around wasn’t her style. Normally. But nothing about this situation was normal.

She was shaking as she stood on the Italian marble floor and let the air-conditioning dry the sweat at the small of her back. Luxurious and well appointed, the apartment was exactly the sort of place where she expected to find Rafe. His family might have fled Alma in the middle of the night, but they’d brought their dignity and their determination with them to the United States and this generation of Montoros had truly flourished.

Rafe was the CEO of Montoro Enterprises. He had been featured in Forbes long before the recent developments in Alma. He’d earned the wealth she saw around him, and the fact that he played as hard as he worked was something she could respect. She played hard, too.

She forced herself not to touch her stomach. Not to draw attention to the one thing that changed everything. Since she’d looked at that stick in the bathroom and realized she was going to have a baby, everything had changed.

Pretending that there was more to her visit than ensuring that her child would know who its father was would be stupid. A wealthy businessman she could have had a shot with, she thought. But not a king.

Still...

She’d seen photos of Alma. With its white sand beaches and castle that looked like something out of a dream, it was a beautiful place. The kind of place that she might have dreamed about as a little girl. A fairy-tale kingdom with a returning prince. Sounded perfect, right?

Except that Rafael Montoro IV was a playboy and they’d had a fling. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to come up with something else to call it, but a two-night stand didn’t cover it, either. One weekend spent in each other’s arms. She could lose herself in the memories if she wasn’t careful.

Hell, she hadn’t been careful. Which was precisely why she was here. Pregnant and determined. She walked down the hallway toward the sounds of Jay-Z playing in the distance. She paused in the doorway of his bedroom.

She’d had to charm her way upstairs, but no way could this wait another moment. Rafe needed to know before he left. She needed to tell him.

She felt queasy and swallowed hard.

There were right and wrong ways to deliver this news, and as appealing to her sense of outrage as it would be to throw up on his carpet, she was hoping for a little sophistication. Just a tiny bit.

After all, she’d seen pictures of his sister and jet-setting mother, though his mother wasn’t really in the picture since her divorce from Rafe III. Still she was an elegant woman.

She cleared her throat.

She listened to Jay-Z and Kanye West singing about how there’s no church in the wild. She almost laughed out loud as she watched Rafe stop packing his suitcase and start to rap along. She leaned against the doorjamb and admitted her anger was really fear. She wasn’t mad at him. She just wanted him to be a different kind of guy so that she could have the fairy tale she wanted.

Not a castle and a title, but a man who loved her. A man who wanted to share his life with her and raise children by her side.

And no matter how fun Rafe was, his path lay somewhere else. He was duty-bound to become the constitutional monarch of Alma. She was determined to return to Key West and live out her life. She wasn’t interested in being involved with a royal; besides, she’d read in the papers that the heirs would have to marry people with spotless reputations.

He was really getting into dancing around the room and rapping.

She applauded when he finished and he turned to look at her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shock apparent on his face.

His body was tense. She suspected he was a tiny bit embarrassed to be caught rapping. Nerves made her mouthy. She knew that. So she should just say she was sorry for using her friend’s key to get into his penthouse.

But that wasn’t her way.

“Hello to you, too, Your Majesty. Should I curtsy or something? I’m not sure of the rules.”

“Neither am I,” he admitted. “Juan Carlos doesn’t like it when I am seen doing something...well, so American but also undignified.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she said. “Who is Juan Carlos?”

“Juan Carlos Salazar II, my cousin, head of the Montoro Family Trust and advocate of decorum at all times.”

“He sounds like a stuffed shirt,” she said. “I doubt I’d meet with his approval.”

“Emily, what are you doing here? And how did you get up here? Security is usually very hard to get past.”

“I have my ways.”

“And they are?” he asked.

“My charm,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’m going to have to warn them about feisty redheads.”

“I actually used a key that I procured from your maid service.”

“You’ve been reduced to criminal behavior. Curiouser and curiouser. Why are you here? Did you decide that you wanted to give me a proper send-off?” he asked. He strode over to her, his big body moving with an economy of motion that captivated her. The same way it had when she’d first glimpsed him in the crowded Key West bar where she worked as a bartender.

He was tall—well over six feet—and muscly, but he moved with grace and she could honestly watch him all day long.

“Why are you here, Red? You said goodbye was forever.”

Goodbye.

She’d meant it when he’d left. He was a rich guy from Miami and experience had shown her they were only in Key West for one thing. Having given it to him she’d wanted to ensure she didn’t give into temptation a second time.

“I did mean it.”

“Help me, Red. I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” he said.

She chewed her lower lip. Up close she could see the flecks of green in his hazel eyes.

He was easily one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. He’d make a killing in Hollywood with those thick eyelashes and those cheekbones. It wouldn’t matter if he could act, just putting him on screen would draw the masses in.

She wished she were immune.

“I’m pregnant.”

He stumbled backward and looked at her as if she’d just started speaking in tongues.

* * *

Pregnant!

He stepped back and walked over to the Bose speaker on the dresser to turn off the music. A baby. From what he knew of the tough-as-nails-bartender, he could guess she wouldn’t be standing in his penthouse apartment if he wasn’t the father. His first reaction was joy.

A child.

It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he wanted. He hardly knew Emily so had no idea if she was here for money or something else. But knowing his child was growing inside of her stirred something primal. Something very powerful. The baby was his.

Maybe that was just because it gave him something to think about other than the recent decision that had been made for him.

He’d been dreading his trip to Alma. He was flattered that the country that had once driven his family out had come back to them and asked him to be the next king, but he had grown up here in Florida. He didn’t want to be a stuffy royal.

He didn’t want European paparazzi following him around and trying to catch him doing anything that would bring shame to his family. God, knew he worked and played hard.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear what I said?” Emily asked.

He had. A baby. Lord knew his father hadn’t been the best and as a result, Rafe had thought he’d never have kids. It wasn’t as if either of his parents had set a great example. And he was still young, but damn if he wasn’t feeling much older every day.

“Yeah, I did. Are you sure?” he asked at last.

She gave him a fiery look from those aqua-blue eyes of hers. He’d seen the passionate side of her nature, and he guessed he was about to witness her temper. “Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

He held his hand up.

“Slow down, Red. I didn’t mean are you sure it’s mine. I meant...are you sure you’re pregnant?”

“Damned straight.”

“I get it. I had to take three at-home pregnancy tests and visit the doctor before I believed it myself. But trust me, Rafe. I’m positive I’m pregnant and that the baby is yours.”

“This is a little surreal,” he said.

“I know,” she said, with just a hint of softening on in her tone. “Listen, I know you can’t turn your back on your family and marry me and frankly, we only had one weekend together so I’d have to say no. But...I don’t want this kid to grow up without any knowledge of you.”

“Me either.”

She glanced up, surprised.

To be honest, he sort of surprised himself. But he knew all the things not to do as a dad thanks to his own father. It didn’t seem right for a kid of his to grow up without him. He wanted that. If he had a child, he wanted a chance to share the Montoro legacy...not the one newly sprung on him that came with a throne, but the one he’d carved out for himself in business. “Don’t look shocked.”

“You’ve kind of got a lot going on right now. And having a kid with me isn’t going to go over well.”

“Tough,” he said. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to be king of Alma. He and his siblings hadn’t grown up with the attitude that they were royalty. They were regular American kids who’d never expected to go back to Alma. “I still make my own decisions.”

“I know that,” she said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve just been so crazy since I realized I was pregnant and alone. I didn’t know what to do. You know my mom raised me by herself...”

He closed the gap between them again and pulled her into his arms. He hadn’t realized she’d been raised by a single parent. To be honest, a weekend of hot sex didn’t really lend itself to sharing each other’s past like that. “You’re not by yourself.”

She looked up at him. That little pointed nose of hers was the tiniest bit red and her lip quivered as if she were struggling to keep from crying. That’s when he realized how out of character it was for Emily to be unsure. The baby—his baby—had thrown her for a loop as well.

“Thanks. I just need...I have no idea. I mean, a kid. I never expected this. But we used protection.”

“I didn’t the third time, remember? I was out and we...”

She blushed and rested her forehead against the middle of his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He’d thought he hated being trapped, but in Emily’s arms this didn’t feel constricting.

“Ugh. My mom was right.”

“About what?” he asked. He looked over her head at the man in the mirror and remembered how many times he’d wanted to see some substance reflected back. Was this it? Of course it was. The baby would change things. He had no idea how or why, but he knew this moment was going to be the one that helped forge his future and the man he’d become.

“She said all it takes is a sweet-talking man and one time to get pregnant.”

“I’m a sweet-talking man?” He tipped her head up with his finger under her chin.

“You can be.”

“What are we going to do?” he asked at last. It was clear she’d run out of steam as soon as she entered the room. Marriage was the noble thing to do. He knew that’s what Juan Carlos would suggest, but he and Emily were strangers, and tying their lives together didn’t seem smart until they knew each other better.

She pushed away from him and walked over to the window. He knew the view she was afforded. This place had been hard-earned. He’d worked just as his siblings had to make Montoro Enterprises into the success it was today.

“I just wanted you to know. Beyond that I don’t need anything. Someday the kid is going to ask about you—”

“Someday? I’m going to be a part of this,” Rafe said.

“I don’t see how. You’re going to be jetting off to Alma to take the throne. My life is here. The baby’s life will be here.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. The timing on this sucked. But he didn’t blame Emily. He’d been running when he went to Key West, afraid to admit that he was in over his head. He’d just gotten word that his family was definitely interested in returning to Alma and as the oldest son he was expected to take the throne.

He was the oldest son. He was Rafael the Fourth. He should have been in command all the time. But the truth was, he was lost.

He wanted his own life. Not one that was dictated by rules and the demands of running a country. If he’d made the decision to return to Alma on his own he might feel differently but right now he felt strong-armed into it.

But somehow in Emily’s arms he’d found something.

* * *

Emily didn’t really feel any better about her next steps, but now that she’d told Rafe her news she could at least start making plans. She didn’t know what she expected... Well, the fairy-tale answer was that he’d profess his undying love—hey, their weekend together was pretty spectacular—then sweep her off her feet to his jet, and they’d go to Paris to celebrate their engagement.

But back in the real world, she was staring at him and wondering if this was the last time she’d be alone with him. It didn’t matter what the fantasy was or that she knew how he looked naked. They were still strangers.

Intimate strangers.

“You are looking at me in an odd way,” he said.

She struggled with her blunt nature. Saying that she knew what he looked like naked but not how he’d react to their child would reveal too much insecurity. So she searched for something light. Keeping things light was the key to this.

“Well, I never heard you rap along with Jay-Z and Kanye before. Sort of changed my opinion of you.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said.

“I’d already guessed that.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

He walked over to her, all sex on a stick with that slow confident stride of his. His hazel eyes were intense, but then everything about him was. Last time they were together, she’d sensed his need to just forget who he was, but this time was different. This time he seemed to want to show her more of the man he was.

The real man.

“What else have you guessed?” he asked in a silky tone that sent shivers down her spine.

He had a great voice. She knew he had flaws, but as far as the physical, she couldn’t find any. Even that tiny scar on the back of his hand didn’t detract from his appeal. “That you are used to getting your own way.”

“Aw, that’s so easy it’s almost like cheating.”

“Have you figured out that I’m used to getting my own way, too?” she asked. Suddenly she didn’t feel as if things were just happening to her. She was in control. Of Rafe, the baby and this entire afternoon. The pregnancy had thrown her. Brought up junk from her childhood she’d thought she’d moved on from, but now she was getting her groove back.

“Oh, I knew that from the moment I entered Shady Harry’s and saw you standing behind the bar.”

“Did you?” she asked. “I thought it was my Shady Harry’s T-shirt that caught your attention.”

The spicy scent of his aftershave brought an onslaught of memories of him moving over her. She’d buried her face in his neck. Damn, he’d smelled good. Then and now.

“Well, that and your legs. Red, you’ve got killer legs.”

She looked down at them. Seemed kind of average to her. But she wasn’t about to argue with a compliment like that.

“I like your ass,” she admitted.

He winked at her, and then turned so that she could see it. He wore a slim-fitting suit that looked tailor-made. Given who he was, it probably was.

He was going to be king.

She had no business flirting with him. Or even staying here a moment longer.

“Sorry.”

“What?” he asked. “Why? What happened?”

She shrugged. No way was she admitting she was intimidated by his title. But that was the truth. She wasn’t in control of that. No matter how much she wanted to be.

“This suit doesn’t do anything for me, does it? I asked Gabe if these pants made me look fat but he said no.”

She had seen pictures of his entire family in the newspaper and knew that the Gabe he referred to was Gabriel Montoro, his younger brother.

She laughed, as she knew he wanted her to. But inside something had changed. She no longer owned this afternoon. “I should go.”

“Why? What happened just now?”

“I remembered that you aren’t just a rich guy from Miami who came to Key West for the weekend. That your life isn’t your own and I really don’t have a place in it.”

His expression tightened and he turned away from her. She studied him as he paced over to his bed and looked down at the expensive leather suitcase lying there. She’d interrupted his packing. He probably didn’t really have time for her this afternoon.

“You said you never knew your father.” With an almost aristocratic expression, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She had the feeling she was seeing the man who would be king. And she had to admit he made her a little bit nervous. Maybe it was simply the fact that she knew he was going to be a king now. But it seemed as if he was different. More regal in his bearing than he had been during their weekend together.

“Yes. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“I did know my father and my grandfather and great-grandfather. From my birth I was named to follow in their footsteps. I’ve never deviated from that expectation, and to be honest, I took a certain pride in carrying on our family name and trying to set an example for my brother and sister.”

“I’m getting a poor little rich boy feeling here. You have been given a lot of opportunities in your lifetime and now you have the chance to lead a nation,” she said, but inside she sort of understood what he was getting at. His entire life had been scripted since birth. She understood from what she’d read in the newspapers that the Montoros may have left Alma in the middle of the night, but they hadn’t left their pride behind.

“All my life I’ve done what is expected of me. I haven’t shirked a single duty. I’m the CEO of Montoro Enterprises and now I will be king of Alma, but for this one afternoon, Red, can I be Rafe? Not a man with his future planned but your lover? Father of your baby?” he asked.

He came back over and dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her hips. Then he drew her closer to him and kissed her belly. “I want you to be able to speak to our baby about me with joy instead of regret.”

She looked down at him as he rested his head against her body. Tunneling her fingers into his thick black hair, she understood that from this point on, when she left this penthouse they couldn’t be this couple again.

She sighed, and the woman she’d always been, the one who lived by the motto Never Say Never, took over. Rafe and she might not have more than this time together. And she wanted this one last time with him.

She hadn’t expected to be a mom this soon. She had made all these plans for her life and then when she’d taken those pregnancy tests it had all gone out the window.

But for this moment she could forget about tomorrow. She hoped this would be enough, but feared one more afternoon in his arms would never be enough to satisfy her.

Two

Rafe pushed aside all of his thoughts and just focused on Emily. It was amazing that she’d come to find him. She was strong enough, independent enough to keep the baby from him if she’d wanted. It embarrassed him a little, humbled him, too, that he would never have known about the baby if she hadn’t shown up.

He’d been focusing on the royal legacy and managing everyone’s expectations. Especially people he didn’t even know and hadn’t cared existed until last month. Funny how he’d gone from worrying about financial targets and managing a multinational company to worrying about a little thing like protocol.

But as long as Emily was here he could forget all that. Concentrate on being the man and not the king.

He held her tightly as he stood up, lifting her off her feet and letting her slide back down his body. She was curvy and light, his woman, and he wanted to be just her man. He carried her to the big brass bed and stood next to it, just waiting for a signal from her.

She owed him nothing.

She sighed and then lowered her head and brushed her lips over his, and something tight and frozen inside him started to melt. She kissed him not like the bold bartender she was when they’d met, but like a woman who wanted to relish her time with her lover.