A Bride For The Playboy Prince: The perfect royal romance to celebrate Harry and Meghan’s wedding

His baby.

Disbelief gave way to anger as he shut down the computer. Why the hell hadn’t she told him? Why had she left him to find out in such a way—and, just as importantly, who else knew?

He reached out for the phone, but withdrew his hand again. He needed to think carefully and not act on impulse, for this was as delicate a negotiation as any he had ever handled. Using the phone would be unsatisfactory and there was no guarantee the call wouldn’t be overheard by someone at her end. Or his. It occurred to him that she might refuse to speak to him—in fact, the more he thought about it, the more likely a scenario that seemed, for she could be as stubborn as hell.

Leaning forward, he pressed the buzzer on his desk and Eleonora appeared almost immediately.

‘Come in and close the door.’ Luc paused for a moment before he spoke. ‘I want you to cancel everything in my diary for the next few days.’

Her darkly beautiful face remained impassive. ‘That might present some difficulties, Your Royal Highness.’

Luc regarded her sternly. ‘And? Is that not what I pay you for—to handle the tricky stuff and smooth over any difficulties?’

‘Indeed.’ Eleonora inclined her dark head. ‘And does Your Royal Highness wish me to make any alternative arrangements to fill the unexpected spaces in your diary?’

Luc’s mouth flattened as he nodded. ‘I need to fly to Isolaverde and afterwards I want the plane on standby, ready to take me to London.’

‘And am I allowed to ask why, Your Royal Highness?’

‘Not yet, you’re not.’

Eleonora bit her lip but said nothing more and Luc waited until she had left the office before slowly turning to stare out of the window at the palace gardens. Already the days hinted at the warm weather ahead, yet his heart felt as wintry as if it had been covered with layers of ice. He couldn’t bear to sit here and think about the unthinkable. He wanted to go to England now. To go to Lisa Bailey and...and...

And what? His default mechanism had always been one of action, but it was vital he did nothing impulsive. He must think this through carefully and consider every possibility which lay open to him.

The following morning he flew to Isolaverde for the meeting he was dreading and from there his jet took him straight to London—but by the time he was sitting in his limousine outside Lisa’s shop, his feelings of disbelief and anger had turned into a clear focus of determination.

The evening was cold and a persistent drizzle had left the pavements shining wet, with a sickly orange hue which glowed down from the streetlights. In the window of Lisa’s shop was a pregnant mannequin wearing a silk dress, her hand on her belly and a prettily arranged heap of wooden toys at her feet. Luc had sat and watched a procession of well-heeled women being dropped off by car or by taxi, sheltered from the rain by their chauffeurs’ umbrellas as they walked into the shop. Business must be booming, he thought grimly.

He forced himself to wait until the shop closed and a couple of women who were clearly staff had left the building. As Luc waited, a passing police officer tapped on the window of the limousine, discreetly overlooking the fact that it was parked on double yellow lines once he was made aware of the owner’s identity.

He waited until the lights in the shop had been dimmed and he could see only the gleaming curls of the woman sitting behind a small desk—and then he walked across the street and opened the door to the sound of a tinkly bell.

Lisa glanced up as the bell rang, wondering if a customer had left their phone behind or changed their mind about an order—but it was nothing as simple as that. It felt like a case of history repeating itself as Luc walked into her shop, only this time there wasn’t a look of curiosity on his face which failed to conceal the spark of hunger in his eyes. This time she saw nothing but fury in their sapphire depths—though when she stopped to think about it, could she really blame him?

Yet she had stupidly convinced herself that this scenario would never happen—as if some unknown guardian angel were protecting her from the wrath of the man who stood in front of her, his features dark with rage. She was glad to be sitting down, because she thought her knees might have buckled from the shock of seeing him standing there—trying to control his ragged breathing. He didn’t have to say a word for her to know why he was here; it was as obvious as the swell of her belly, which he was staring at like a man who had just seen a ghost.

Don’t be rash, she reasoned, telling herself this was much too important to indulge her own feelings. She had to think about the baby and only the baby.

‘Luc,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

He lifted his gaze from her stomach to her face as their eyes met in a silent clash. ‘Weren’t you?’ he said grimly. ‘What’s the matter, Lisa? Surely you must have known I would turn up sooner or later?’

She licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘I tried not to think about it.’

‘You tried not to think about it?’ he repeated. ‘Is that why I was left to discover via social media that you’re pregnant?’

‘I didn’t mean—’

‘I don’t care what you did or didn’t mean because you’re going to have a baby.’ Ruthlessly, he cut across her words. But for the first and only time since she’d known him, he seemed to be struggling with the rest of the sentence, because when finally he spoke, he sounded choked. ‘My baby.’

Lisa could feel the blood draining from her face and thought how wrong this all seemed. A miracle of life which should—and did—fill her with joy and yet the air around them throbbed with accusation and tension. Her hands were unsteady and she felt almost dizzy, and all she could think was that this kind of emotion couldn’t be good for the baby. ‘Yes,’ she breathed at last, staring down at the tight curve of her belly as if to remind herself. ‘Yes, I’m having your baby.’

There was an ominous silence before he spoke again. A moment when he followed the direction of her gaze, staring again at her new shape as if he couldn’t believe it.

‘Yet you didn’t tell me,’ he accused. ‘You kept it secret. As if it was your news alone and nobody else’s. As if I had no right to know.’

‘I did try to tell you!’ she protested. ‘I tried phoning you but your number had changed.’

‘I change my number every six months,’ he informed her coldly. ‘It’s a security thing.’

Lisa pushed a handful of hair away from her hot face. ‘And then I phoned the palace and got through to one of your aides. Eleonora, I think her name was.’

Luc’s head jerked back. ‘You spoke to Eleonora?’

‘Yes. And she told me that you weren’t available. Actually, it went further than that. She said I wasn’t on your list of telephone contacts. If you must know she made me feel like some pestering little groupie who needed to be kept away from the precious Prince at all costs.’

Luc let out a long sigh. Of course she had. Eleonora was one of his most fiercely loyal subjects, and part of her role had always been to act as his gatekeeper, and never more so than when he’d returned to Mardovia following his illicit night with Lisa. When he’d been full of remorse for what he’d done but unable to shake off the erotic memories which had clung to his skin like the soft touch of her fingers. He had thrown himself into his work, undertaking a punishing schedule which had taken him to every town and city on the island. And he had instructed his fiercely loyal aide not to bother him unless absolutely necessary.

‘You could have written,’ he said.

‘What, sent you a postcard, or a letter which was bound to be opened by a member of your staff? Saying what? Dear Prince Luciano, I’m having your baby?’ Her gaze was very steady. ‘You told me you were going to marry another woman. You made it very clear you never wished to see me again. And after you’d gone, I found a card on my bedroom floor—a card from some Hollywood actress you must have met at the wedding. My lowly place in the pecking order was confirmed there and then.’

‘I could tell you that I took the card simply as a politeness with no intention of contacting her again, but that is irrelevant,’ he gritted out. ‘Because the bottom line is that you’re pregnant, and we’re going to have to deal with that.’

She shook her head. ‘But there’s nothing to deal with. You don’t have to worry. I have no wish to upset your fiancée or your plans for the future. And lots of women have children without the support of men!’ she finished brightly.

‘So you said in your recent interview,’ he agreed witheringly.

‘And it doesn’t matter what you say.’ She looked at him defiantly, because defiance made her feel strong. It stopped her from crumpling to the ground and just opening her mouth and howling. It stopped her from wishing he would cradle her in his arms, like any normal father-to-be—his face full of wonder and tenderness. She licked her lips. ‘Because when it boils down to it, this is just a baby like any other.’

‘But that’s where you’re wrong, Lisa,’ he negated softly. ‘It is different. This is not just a baby. The child you carry has royal blood running through its veins. Royal Mardovian blood. Do you have any idea of the significance of that?’ His face hardened. ‘Unless that was the calculated risk you took all along?’

She stared at him in confusion. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘No?’ The words began to bubble up inside him, demanding to be spoken and, although years of professional diplomacy urged Luc to use caution, the shock of this unexpected discovery was making him want to throw that caution to the wind. ‘Maybe this is what you hoped for all along,’ he accused. ‘I saw your face at the wedding when you started talking about your niece. That dreamy look which suggested you longed to become a mother yourself. I believe women often become broody when they’re around other people’s children. When their body clock is ticking away as yours so obviously is. Is that what happened to you, Lisa? Only instead of saddling yourself with a troublesome partner as your sister seems to have done—maybe you decided to go it alone.’

‘You’re insane,’ she breathed. ‘Completely insane.’

‘Am I? Don’t they say that children are the new accessories for the modern career woman? Was that why you threw yourself at me that night, when I was trying to do the honourable thing of resisting you?’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Was that why you made love to me so energetically—riding me like some rodeo rider on a bucking bronco? Perhaps hoping to test the strength of the condom we used—because you wanted my seed inside you. It is not unknown.’

She stared at him in disbelief as his words flooded over her in a bitter stream. ‘Or maybe I went even further?’ she declared. ‘Perhaps you think I was so desperate to have your child that I went into the bathroom after you’d gone and performed some sort of amateur DIY insemination? That’s not beyond the realms of possibility either!’

‘Don’t be so disgusting!’ he snapped.

‘Me?’ She stared at him. ‘That’s rich. You’re the one who came in here making all kinds of bizarre suggestions when all I wanted was to try to do the decent thing—for everyone concerned. You’re going to marry Sophie and...’ She stood up then, needing to move around, needing to bring back some blood to her cramped limbs. Leaving behind the clutter of her desk, she walked over to a rail of the new maternity dresses which she’d worked so hard on—pretty dresses which discreetly factored in the extra material needed at the front. She’d been feeling so proud of her new collection. She’d taken lots of new orders after the show and had allowed herself the tentative hope that she could carry on supporting Brittany and Tamsin and still make a good life for herself and her own baby. Yet now, in the face of Luc’s angry remarks—her will was beginning to waver.

She straightened a shimmery turquoise dress before forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘Don’t you understand that I’m letting you off the hook? I don’t want to mess up your plans by lumbering you with a baby you never intended to have. A commoner’s baby. You’re going to be married to someone else. A princess.’ The hurt she’d managed so successfully to hide started to creep up, but she forced herself to push it away. To ask the question she needed to ask and to try to do it without her voice trembling, which suddenly seemed like one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. ‘Because how the hell do you think Princess Sophie is going to feel when you tell her you’re going to be a father?’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘SHE KNOWS,’ SAID LUC, the words leaving his mouth as if they were poison. ‘Princess Sophie knows about the baby and it’s over between us.’

He watched Lisa grow still, like an animal walking through the darkened undergrowth suddenly scenting danger. Her green-gold eyes narrowed as she looked at him and her voice was an uncertain tremble.

‘B-but you said—’

‘I know what I said,’ he agreed. ‘But that was then. This is now. Or did you really think I was going to take another woman as my wife when you are pregnant with my child? This changes everything, Lisa.’ There was a heartbeat of a pause. ‘Which is why I went to see the Princess before I came to England.’

She winced, closing her eyes briefly—as if she was experiencing her own, private pain. ‘And what...what did she say?’

Luc picked his words carefully, still trying to come to terms with the capriciousness of women. He didn’t understand them and sometimes he thought he never would. And when he stopped to think about it—why should he, when the only role models he’d known had all been paid for out of the palace purse?

He had been expecting a show of hurt and contempt from his young fiancée. He had steeled himself against her expected insults as he had been summoned into the glorious throne room of her palace on Isolaverde, where shortly afterwards she had appeared—an elegant figure in a gown of palest blue which had floated around her. But the vitriol he deserved hadn’t been forthcoming.

‘She told me she was relieved.’

‘Relieved?’

‘She said that a wedding planned when the bride-to-be was still in infancy was completely outdated and my news had allowed her to look at her life with renewed clarity. She told me that she didn’t actually want to get married—and certainly not to a man she didn’t really know, for the sake of our nations.’ He didn’t mention the way she had turned on him and told him that she didn’t approve of his reputation. That the things she’d heard and read in the past—exploits which some of his ex-lovers had managed to slip to the press—had appalled her. She had looked at him very proudly and announced that maybe fate was doing her a favour by freeing her from her commitment to such a man. And what could he do but agree with her, when he was in no position to deny her accusations? ‘So I am now a free man,’ he finished heavily.

Lisa’s response to this was total silence. He watched her walk over to the desk and pour herself a glass of water and drink it down very quickly before turning back to face him. ‘How very convenient for you,’ she said.

‘And for you, of course.’

Abruptly, she put the glass down. ‘Me?’ The wariness in her green-gold eyes had been replaced by a glint of anger. ‘I’m sorry—you’ve lost me. What does the breaking off of your engagement have to do with me? We had a one-night stand with unwanted consequences, that’s all. Two people who planned never to see one another again. Nothing has changed.’

Luc studied her defensive posture, knowing there were better methods of conveying what he needed to say and certainly more suitable environments in which to do so than the shop in which she worked. But he didn’t have the luxury of time on his side—for all kinds of reasons. His people would be delighted by news that his royal bloodline would be continued, but he doubted they’d be overjoyed to hear that the royal mother was an unknown commoner and not their beloved Princess Sophie. He would have to ask the Princess to issue a dignified announcement before introducing Lisa as his bride, for that would surely lessen the impact. And he would get his office to start working on image control—on how best to minimise the potential for negative repercussions for him and for Mardovia.

‘Everything has changed,’ he said. ‘For I am now free to marry you.’

Lisa’s heart missed a beat, but even in the midst of her shock she reflected what cruel tricks life could play. Because once Luc’s words would have affected her very differently. When she’d been starting to care for him...really care. When she’d been standing on the edge of that terrifying precipice called love. Just before she’d pulled back and walked away from him—she would have given everything she possessed to hear Luc ask her to marry him.

And now?

Now she accepted that the words were as empty as a politician’s sound bites. The mists had cleared and she saw him for who he really was. A powerful man who shifted women around in his life like pawns in a game of chess. Why, even his brides were interchangeable! Princess Sophie had been heading for the altar, only to be cast aside with barely a second thought because a pregnant commoner counted for more than a virgin princess. And now she was expected to step in and take her place as his bride. Poor Sophie. And poor her, if she didn’t grow a backbone.

She drew in a deep breath. ‘You really think I’d marry you, Luc?’

The arrogant smile which curved his mouth made it clear he thought her protest a token one.

‘I agree it isn’t the most conventional of unions,’ he said. ‘But given the circumstances, you’d be crazy not to.’

Lisa could feel herself growing angry. Almost as angry as when she’d looked down at her dead mother’s face and thought how wasted her life had been. She remembered walking away from the funeral parlour hoping that she had found peace at last.

She’d been angry too when Brittany had dropped out of her hard-fought-for place at one of England’s top universities because Jason had wanted her to have his baby, and nothing Lisa had said could talk her sister out of it, or make her wait. Another woman who had allowed herself to be manipulated by a man.

But maybe she no longer had a right to play judge and jury when now she found herself in a situation which was wrong from just about every angle. She stared into Luc’s face but saw no affection on his rugged features—nothing but a grim determination to have things on his terms, the way he always did. And she couldn’t afford to let him—because if she gave him the slightest leeway, he would swamp her with the sheer force of his royal power.

‘I think we’ll have to disagree on the level of my craziness,’ she said quietly. ‘Because you must realise I can’t possibly marry you, Luc, no matter what you say—or how many inducements you make.’

His sudden stillness indicated that her reply had surprised him.

‘I don’t really think you have a choice, Lisa,’ he said.

‘Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. There is always a choice. And mine was to have this child alone and to love it with all my heart. It still is.’

‘But I am the father.’

‘I know you are. And now that it’s all out in the open you must realise that I shan’t deny you access to your child.’ She smiled up at him. ‘We’ll keep emotion out of it and try to come to some satisfactory arrangement for all of us.’

He didn’t smile back.

‘You seem to forget that you carry a prince or princess,’ he said softly. ‘And it is vital they should grow up on the island they will one day inherit.’

She met his gaze. ‘I didn’t realise illegitimate offspring were entitled to inherit.’

A muscle began to flicker at Luc’s temple because this conversation wasn’t going according to plan. His marriage proposal had been intended to pacify her and possibly to thrill her. To have her eating out of his hand—because women had been trying to push him towards the altar most of his adult life and deep down he had imagined Lisa would be no different. He’d thought she would be picturing herself walking down the wide aisle of Mardovia’s famous cathedral—a glittering tiara in her curly hair. Yet all she was doing was surveying him with a proud look and he felt the slow burn of indignation. Who the hell did she think she was—turning down his offer of marriage without even a moment’s consideration?

For a split second he felt powerless—an unwelcome sensation to someone whose power had always been his lifeblood. He wanted to tell her that she would do exactly as he demanded and she might as well resign herself to that fact right now. But the belligerent expression on her face told him he had better proceed with caution.

His gaze drifted over her, but for once the riot of curls and green-gold eyes were not the focus of his attention. He noted how much fuller her breasts were and how the swell of her belly completely dwarfed her tiny frame. And inside that belly was his child. His throat thickened.

She looked like a tiny boat in full sail, yet she was no less enticing for all that. He still wanted her and if circumstances had been different he might have pulled her in his arms and started to kiss her. He could have lulled her into compliance and taken her into one of those changing rooms. Drawn the velvet curtains away from prying eyes and had her gasping her approval to whatever it was he asked of her.

But she was heavy with child. Glowing like a pomegranate in the thin winter sun—and because of that he couldn’t use sex as a bargaining tool.

‘Get your coat,’ he said. ‘And I’ll take you home.’

‘I haven’t finished what I was doing.’

‘I’ll wait.’

‘There’s no need. Honestly, I can get a cab.’

‘I said, I’ll wait. Don’t fight me on this, Lisa—because I’m not going anywhere.’ And with this he positioned himself on one of the velvet and gilt chairs, stretching his long legs in front of him.

Lisa wanted to protest, but what was the point? She couldn’t deny they needed to talk, but not now and not like this—when she was still flustered by his sudden appearance and the announcement that he’d called off his wedding. She needed to have her wits about her but her brain currently felt as if it were clouded in mist, leaving her unable to think properly. And that was dangerous.

He had taken out his cell phone and was flicking through his emails and giving them his full attention, and she found herself almost envying him. If only she were capable of such detachment of thought! The figures in front of her were a jumble and in the end she gave up trying to make sense of them. How could she possibly concentrate on her work with Luc distracting her like this?

She shut down her computer and gave him a cool look. ‘Okay. I’m ready,’ she said.

She sensed he was exerting considerable restraint to remain patient as she carried the jug and water glass out into the kitchen, set the burglar alarm, turned off the lights and locked the door. Outside, the drizzle was coming down a little heavier now and his driver leapt from the car to run over and position a huge umbrella over her head. She wanted to push the monstrous black thing away—uncaring that the soft rain would turn her hair into a mass of frizz—but she stopped just in time. She needed to be calm and reasonable because she suspected that she and Luc were coming at this pregnancy from completely different angles. And if she allowed her fluctuating hormones to make her all volatile, he would probably get some awful Mardovian judge to pronounce her unfit to be a mother!

She sat in frozen silence on the way to her apartment and a feeling of frustration built up inside her when he made no attempt to talk to her. Was he playing mind games? Trying to see which of them would buckle first? Well, he had better realise that this wasn’t a game—not for her. She was strong and resolute and knew exactly what she wanted.

But when they drew up outside her humble block, he surprised her with his words.

‘Have dinner with me tomorrow night.’

‘Dinner?’

‘Why not?’ he said. ‘We need to discuss what we’re going to do and there’s nothing in the rulebook which says we can’t do it in a civilised manner.’