His Pregnant Royal Bride

A pink blush tinged her creamy cheeks. “I took this job so that I could tell you in person.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you contact me before you showed up here? As soon as you found out? It’s been months, Shay. You can understand my trepidation. My anger, surely?”

She winced. “I know. But I’ve only very recently found out myself, Dante. I’m sixteen weeks.”

“Four months in and you expect me to believe that you just found out?” Dante scoffed.

“Yes. I was working in a war-torn area. My periods have always been irregular and I put their absence down to stress and travel. I wasn’t keeping that close an eye on dates, but something told me that it had been too long. I took a test, which came out positive, but then there was no way to contact you. Communication was spotty.”

Dante saw red. “You were pregnant in a war zone?”

Her eyes narrowed. “There are lots of pregnant women in war zones.”

Dante cursed under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure sounded like it.” She crossed her arms and he noticed her breasts were fuller and he recalled at that moment the way his hands fit so nicely around them.

Get control of yourself.

“Fine. So you couldn’t get word to me.”

“No, I thought it would be news better delivered in person.”

“I want a paternity test,” he demanded.

Shocked and hurt, Shay glared at him. “It’s your baby, Dante. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“You didn’t even know you were pregnant right away, so you understand my hesitancy. We used protection,” he said.

“A faulty condom. They’re not infallible.” Shay sighed. “And I don’t sleep around. I don’t sleep with strangers.”

“Wasn’t I a stranger, cara?”

She shot him daggers. “I didn’t come here to make you a father, Dante. I actually took the job because it paid well, so that I could take a longer maternity leave when I return to the States.”

“So you considered not telling me?”

“Of course not. You have the right to know about your child, Dante. What I’m saying is that I don’t expect anything from you.”

Everything was sinking in and he was having a hard time processing for a moment. He wanted to believe that she was telling him the truth, but he’d been burned before. And thanks to his father’s indiscretions the entire world seemed to know that he was a prince, poised to inherit a vast estate of land and money. Wasn’t that what had drawn Olivia to him?

Of course, if Shay was pregnant with his child, it solved all of his problems.

He had to be married and have an heir by the time he was thirty-five. There was nothing in the will that stated he had to stay married. And while Olivia had made him very wary of marriage, he had wanted to be a father for as long as he could remember. He wanted the happy family he’d never had growing up. Plus, he knew that Shay was passionate about her job. She wouldn’t want to settle down in Italy with him—hadn’t she told him that she feared staying in one place for too long? What if he could get full custody of the baby? Have the child he’d always wanted without risking his heart.

“Dante, say something. Anything,” Shay said. “I know this must be a terrible shock.”

Before he could say anything there was a knock on his door. His assistant poked her head round it. “Dr. Affini? The trainees are gathered in the lecture theatre and are waiting for you.”

Dante acknowledged the woman before he turned back to Shay. “We’ll talk later. We have a job to do.”

Shay smiled, relieved. “Yes. We have a job to do.”

He’d let her have relief for now, but this was far from over.

* * *

Shay had wanted to tell Dante that she was pregnant from the moment she’d found out. She was frustrated when she realized she’d put their child in danger, and then when he’d insinuated that, she’d felt even guiltier. She wasn’t irresponsible. Once she’d known she was expecting, she’d been flown out, leaving her free to take over this assignment from her colleague Daniel, who’d sadly just been diagnosed with stage two colon cancer. She’d dreaded telling Dante here, at work, but she respected him and he deserved to know about their child. She also wanted him to know that she didn’t expect anything.

She wasn’t looking for a marriage or even for him to be part of the child’s life if he didn’t want to be.

She knew firsthand what it was like when a man was forced into staying.

Her own father had made that painfully clear to her until the day he’d left her and her mother.

So she knew what it was like to be rejected by her father and she didn’t want that for her child. And that was why she’d been terrified of telling Dante. Terrified he’d reject her and the baby, which would make the next twelve weeks working with him miserable.

Glad to be able to focus for the moment on the job at hand, Shay took the time it took them to make their way to the lecture theatre to chat about the assignment with Dante.

“I think I’m pretty much up-to-date on what Daniel was planning to do and how he was going to implement the simulation and training program,” Shay said as she skimmed through the binder that she’d been given as she’d boarded the plane.

“So, what happened to Daniel?” Dante asked.

“Cancer,” Shay said sadly.

“That’s too bad. I wish him a speedy recovery, but I wish they had told me he wasn’t coming.” Dante rubbed his dimpled chin, and those butterflies that liked to dance around in the pit of her stomach months ago were starting up again. She’d forgotten how he affected her. He was still so handsome, the stubble on his chin suited him and she resisted the urge to tuck back the errant strand of his thick black hair.

“I thought you had been informed that Daniel was no longer coming,” she said.

“Clearly not,” he snapped.

“Dante, you’re clearly not okay with this.”

“I’m fine,” he said, and he took the binder from her, not even looking at her.

She knew he wasn’t. This was not the same man she’d spent a fairy-tale week with in Oahu. Then again, she hadn’t really been herself either. Like when she’d decided to throw caution to the wind and have a one-night stand.

“Okay, you’re fine, then. Shall we go and talk to the trainees? They are waiting.”

“Of course.” Dante didn’t even look at Shay as he opened the door on the far side of the room. It was as if he was angry that she was here.

Can you blame him?

They walked out onto the stage of the small lecture theatre. The first two rows were filled with new United World Wide Health Association recruits, men and women who would be taking a crash course in first response and trauma.

Dante’s job was to teach them trauma surgery and Shay was going to run them through a course of simulations. Based on situations she’d found herself in when she’d first started with the United World Wide Health Association.

She kind of envied all those hopeful faces, the thirty-odd new recruits. Her first days in the UWWHA working the field were some of her favorite times. Before she took this assignment she’d been going to take a field job in the Middle East to help vaccinate refugees.

Only that was before she’d found out she was pregnant. She couldn’t go then and had been weighing up her options, and then this position had become available. The more romantically minded would probably call it fate.

This would be her last foreign assignment for a long time and she was going to make the most of it.

Her career and her unborn child mattered to her. She was going to make sure her son or daughter had a good life and this job in Venice would give her a strong foundation. Even if she had to give up on her dreams for now.

The recruits were from all over Italy and some from Switzerland and France. They could all speak English and French, which Shay understood, and she was glad when Dante started to speak French to them over Italian, which she was still trying to pick up.

If her news had shaken him before, Dante didn’t show it now as he spoke highly of the United World Wide Health Association and the twelve-week training program they would be completing at the hospital under his and Shay’s guidance.

A baby hadn’t been in her plans either, but it had happened and she was going to be a good mother and continue with her career. Even if it was going in a slightly different direction than she’d thought. She wouldn’t pine away after a man who didn’t want her as her mother had done.

“Your dad’ll come back, Shay. You’ll see. I’m his wife. He went to Alaska to work for the crab season. He’ll be back and he’ll take us all up to Alaska.”

Of course, he never did come back.

He was still alive, the last Shay heard, but didn’t want anything to do with her.

He’d moved on and he certainly didn’t care that their house had been destroyed by Katrina and that his wife had died soon after from mold poisoning.

“Shay Labadie will explain the simulation scenarios you’ll be going through.” Dante stepped away from the podium and Shay shook the thoughts of her father from her head.

She was here to do a job.

And she always did a good job. Always saw a position through to the end, no matter what life threw at her.

She got up and explained the simulations that she would be running them through and answered questions. When she was done, the director of the UWWHA took the podium and she went and stood beside Dante. There was tension pouring off him and he barely looked at her.

Not that she could blame him.

She had dropped the fact that he was going to be a father on his lap.

She would’ve been more surprised if he weren’t shocked by the prospect.

Once the director finished talking, there was a mix and mingle session, so that everyone could get to know one another. Shay walked toward the stairs at the end of the stage, but Dante grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“A moment per favore, Shay.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “First, I was serious when I said I would like a paternity test done.”

“Okay.” He’d been right when he’d reminded her that they were strangers who’d slept together, much as it smarted that her word wasn’t enough to convince him that she didn’t sleep around. “Anything else?”

“This is hard for me to say.”

“Dante, you don’t have to do anything. I already told you that I’m not asking for anything.”

“I know you’re not,” he said quickly. “I am.”

“What...I... You’re what?” Shay didn’t know how to take that response. Now she was shocked, so she asked cautiously, “What’re you asking for?”

“Not much. Just that if the paternity test proves that I’m the father—”

“Which it will,” she interrupted.

“If it does,” he said through clenched teeth, “I want you to marry me.”

Of all the things she’d thought he’d say, that wasn’t one of them.

She hadn’t been expecting that.

CHAPTER TWO

“YOU WANT...WHAT?” Shay was trying to process what Dante had said and she wasn’t sure that she completely understood him. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said that if the paternity test proves I’m the father I want you to marry me.” There was no smile on his face, no glint in his eye letting her know that he was joking, because he had to be joking, right? Men just didn’t ask women they’d slept with once to marry them, did they?

“That’s what I thought you said, but then I was thinking that there was no way you could be asking me that.” She tried to move past him, because this was a bit crazy. This was not the Dante she remembered, the Dante she knew.

You don’t know Dante, remember?

And she didn’t. Usually she knew the men she slept with a bit better, but when she’d been in Oahu she’d thrown caution to the wind when she’d succumbed to Dante’s kiss.

Even now, standing here in front of him, she had a hard time trying to forget the way his arms had felt around her. The way he’d whispered cara in her ear.

This reaction to him is why you’re pregnant in the first place.

“Well, I’m not asking you,” he said.

“You’re crazy.” She tried to leave.

He stepped in front of her to block her. “I’m not asking you, Shay. I’m telling you. If I’m the father, we will get married.”

What?

“You’re telling me?” She cleared her throat. “Seriously?”

Dante nodded. “Yes. You will marry me.”

Shay tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it. This was not real life.

“And what about the paternity test you’re so adamant I take?”

He glared at her. “I only want marriage if the test proves I’m the father.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Which was absurd. She hadn’t been with anyone since him, and before him there’d been no one else for a long time.

“Won’t it?”

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. Suddenly she was having a hard time finding him charming. Sexy, yes, but charming—heck, no. More annoying than anything.

“You’re the father,” she replied icily.

“Then you will marry me once we receive the results.”

She snorted. “How romantic.”

“Nothing about this is romantic, cara.” The endearment he used on her, his voice still deep and rich. She could hear that whisper in her ears: cara.

“Do you love me?” she asked point-blank, shaking those thoughts from her head.

He cocked his eyebrows. “This has nothing to do with love.”

“So the answer is no,” she said.

“Were you expecting me to say yes? Other than one week together, we don’t know each other.”

“Exactly, so why would I marry you?”

He frowned. “To give our child legitimacy. A stable home. The guarantee that it will have two parents. This is a business arrangement for the sake of the child.”

The premise of giving her child a good home life was very tempting, but she knew how this played out. She’d been that child after all and she wouldn’t put her child through that. Through the resentment, bitterness and heartache. To the point that her father had walked away and didn’t even want to see her again.

No, she didn’t want that for her baby.

She didn’t want her baby to feel that pain. Only he seemed to really want this baby and her father had never wanted her.

Another parent involved, especially a stationary one, means you can pursue assignments anywhere in the world.

“I’m not going to marry you,” she said. “I’m here to work.” She tried to leave the room, but he stepped in front of her, grabbing her by the arm, his dark eyes blazing.

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” she snapped, shrugging her arm out of his grip.

“So I’m not to have access to my child?” he demanded.

“I never said that.”

“You won’t marry me. So that means I won’t see this child. You’re only in Italy for twelve weeks. Then what happens? You won’t even be here when our child is born.”

“Dante, I’m not denying you access to your child. I want you to be part of his or her life. We don’t have to get married to raise this child. We don’t even need to live in the same country.”

He opened his mouth to say more when his pager buzzed. He looked down. “Incoming trauma, dannazione. This conversation isn’t over.” He stormed out of the room, his white lab coat billowing out behind him from his long strides. He was a force of nature to be reckoned with.

Shay breathed an inward sigh of relief, because for now she was able to get a breather, but she knew that this was probably far from over.

Dante stuck his head back into the room. “Are you coming, Shay? There is incoming trauma and you’re to be my nurse for the next twelve weeks. I need you by my side.”

By his side.

Only she wasn’t sure she was going to survive the next twelve weeks. By the way things were going she was either going to kill him or fall in love with him.

And succumbing to the passion, the desire, she felt for him was not an option. Neither was falling in love.

She had to guard her heart.

Shay was not her mother and wouldn’t be easily persuaded by loving a man. This was her life and she was going to live by her own wit.

“Of course.”

She shook her head; she had to get back in the game and focus on her work here. This was her job and, when she’d found out that she was pregnant after one night of forbidden passion, she’d sworn that she wasn’t going to let the pregnancy interfere with her job performance. She was a damn good nurse practitioner and simulation trainer. And that wasn’t going to change.

Even though she was starting to blossom and her center of gravity was shifting, she was able to keep up with Dante’s quick pace as they navigated the hallways through the hospital. He finally slowed down when they entered the trauma ward, where there was a flurry of activity. Shay could see water ambulances outside a set of automatic doors, where they were bringing in stretchers of patients.

“What happened?” Dante asked in Italian, that much she understood. The man spoke quickly and then pointed to where Dante was needed.

“Shay, this way,” Dante called, waving his hand and directing her to follow him.

They entered a private treatment bay, where a man lay seriously wounded.

“He’s American. Your presence might calm him,” Dante whispered.

Shay nodded. “What happened?”

“A vaporetto was tossed when a large cruise ship came into the lagoon. The cruise ship sent a wave into St. Mark’s Square and there were some injuries there as well.”

“Vaporetto?” Shay asked as she pulled on a trauma gown and gloves.

“Water taxi,” Dante said as he pulled on his own gloves. “This has been happening more and more. Especially during the summer months, when the tourists flock the city. Too much traffic.” He shook his head with disgust.

Shay nodded and headed over to the patient, who was conscious and had a mask on. His brown eyes were wide with fear as he looked around the room.

“I can’t understand a word,” he mumbled through the oxygen mask.

“Me neither,” Shay said gently. “I’m learning, though.”

“You’re American?” he asked, a hint of relief in his voice.

“I am. I’m a nurse practitioner with the United World Wide Health Association. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember. One moment my wife and I were taking a water taxi from Lido di Venezia to St. Mark’s, and then the next thing I know we’re in the water. Oh, goodness, where is my wife?”

“What is her name?” Shay asked.

“Jennifer Sanders.”

“I’ll find her for you in a moment,” Shay said gently. “It’s important we make sure you’re okay first.”

“I can’t move. I can’t feel my legs,” the man said, his voice rising in panic.

Dante shot her a concerned look. “What is your name, signor?”

The man looked at Dante. “Are you the doctor?”

“Sì. Can you tell me your name?”

“James, but my friends call me Jim.”

Dante smiled at him. “I’m going to examine your abdomen. Tell me if anything hurts, and then we’ll get an MRI of your spine.”

The man nodded. Shay lifted his shirt and there was dark bruising; his belly was distended, which was a sign there was internal bleeding. The bleeding would have to be stopped before they could worry about his back. In this case internal bleeding trumped paralysis.

The man cried out when Dante did a palpation over his spleen.

“We need to get a CT scan of his abdomen, see how bad the bleeding is,” Dante whispered to Shay.

“Where do I go to order that?” she asked.

“I will. You stay with him. Prep him for the procedures.” Dante left the room.

Shay calmed their patient down and got an IV started, drawing the blood work needed before surgery. She had no doubt that with extensive bruising and pain Jim would need surgery and fast.

“What’s your name?” Jim asked.

“Shay Labadie,” she said as she took his vitals, writing them down.

“Baton Rouge?” he asked.

“No, close, though. New Orleans proper.” She smiled.

“I thought it was a Louisiana accent. I’m from Mississippi. Picayune to be exact.”

“Not far, then.” She smiled at him warmly, trying to reassure him as his blood pressure was rising.

He grinned faintly as his eyes rolled back into his head and the monitors went into alarm.

“I need a crash cart!” she shouted, slamming her hand against the code blue button as the rest of the team in the room jumped into action. Some situations transcended the language barrier.

* * *

“Nurse Labadie, if you contact Dr. Prescarrie, he is the neurologist. He’ll be able to determine the extent of the nerve damage in our patient.” Dante wanted to keep Shay busy, keep her away from the OR table, but she didn’t budge. She stood by his side, passing him the instruments he needed without him having to ask for them.

She knew exactly what he needed and when.

And she was so calm about it. That was what bothered him the most. As if nothing fazed her.

She was good at her job.

Though he shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been impressed by her when they were in Oahu together at the conference. Only he hadn’t got to see her actually work. Now he had that privilege, but he was also very aware of the fact that she was pregnant.

With his child.

Maybe your child.

He was still reeling over the realization Shay was here and pregnant with his child as he removed Mr. Sanders’s badly damaged spleen.

“I will contact him, but does he speak English?” she asked.

“He speaks French and I know that you can speak that. I heard you speak that before.”

“Okay, I’ll have him paged once Mr. Sanders is stable.” She handed him a cautery that he didn’t ask for, but damn if he didn’t need it right at that moment.

“Grazie,” he said grudgingly.

“You seem tense, Dr. Affini,” Shay remarked.

“Of course I’m tense. I have a man open on the table.”

And you’ve just walked back into my life carrying my baby.

Her presence here totally threw his controlled world off balance. Thoughts of Shay were kept to the privacy of his memories. To the nights he was alone and lonely, wishing he could have more than he was allotted in life. That was when he thought of Shay and their time together.

He’d romanticized her. The one stolen moment he could treasure forever and now she was here and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Her presence unnerved him completely.

“Is there anything I can do to ease your tension?” she asked. “I mean, if my job as a scrub nurse isn’t up to scratch...”

“It’s fine. There is nothing you can do. Well, there is one thing, but you refused.” He quickly glanced over at her and he could see her brow furrow above that surgical mask.

“This is not the time to discuss it.” There was a hint of warning in her voice.

Dante raised his eyebrows. He’d never heard Shay speak in that tone before. Even at the conference when there were idiots either hitting on her or talking over her, because she was just a nurse, she’d always smiled sweetly and taken them down a peg. This was something different.

A clear warning.

“Why not? I like chatting while I work.” He didn’t, but he liked getting under her skin the way she got under his.

She snorted. “You didn’t seem very receptive to talking before.”

“It depends what the subject is,” he teased.

“Well, I can say in no uncertain terms the subject you want to discuss, Dr. Affini, is off-limits.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything further to her as he completed the splenectomy and stabilized the patient. Once he was done, Shay walked away from him and he could see her on the operating theatre’s phone, obviously paging Dr. Prescarrie about Mr. Sanders’s spinal injuries.

Not only was he impressed by her skill in a surgical situation, but he admired her strength. Women in his circles usually would balk under interrogation. Of course, women in his circles, women like Olivia, wouldn’t even be in an operating theatre, getting their hands dirty.