Knocked Up by the Broken Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  “Sir?” one of them asks.

  I ignore him. “Ivy?”

  When she turns her head to look at me, her gaze knocks me back. Her eyes, usually so bright, are full of darkness and pain. She puts her hand to her neck, curling her fingers as if she’s trying to claw her own throat out. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, and my whole body turns cold.

  Something’s very, very wrong.

  “Ivy,” I repeat, taking a step toward her.

  She inhales then. It’s a deep, shuddering breath that makes my blood turn to ice. As I take another step toward her, Ivy collapses into my arms with a sob.

  “Margot,” she says between rattling breaths. “It’s Margot.”

  I clutch her to my chest as my heart cracks. The pain in Ivy’s face is unbearable.

  “Where is she?”

  Ivy nods to the door, wiping her face with her hands. She takes a breath, glancing around at the royal procession. Everyone has stopped to watch, from the hospital staff, to the bodyguards, to Damon and Dahlia.

  Ivy’s face reddens, and she ducks her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and disappears through her sister’s hospital room door.

  27

  Ivy

  Margot’s room is dark. The doctors gave her a sedative, so she’s lying in the bed, immobile. I sink into a chair next to her and let my tears fall from my eyes.

  She’s out of danger now, but her bloodstream was full of powerful drugs.

  I never saw any of it.

  Never guessed that she was using.

  Never wondered if she was unhappy.

  Never asked her if she was okay.

  I mean…heroin?! Who…?

  I shake my head.

  Guilt and shame churn in my stomach until I feel like I’m going to throw up. I’ve been so busy feeling sorry for myself—so busy being jealous of my sister’s supposedly ‘perfect’ life—that I haven’t even seen how much she’s suffering.

  More recently, I’ve been too busy being a horny, hormone-addled mess with love goggles on to notice that she was spiraling.

  How long has she been using? People don’t just start with heroin. She must have done lots of drugs in the past couple of years. How did I miss it?

  Turning my head when the door opens, I see Prince Luca in the doorway. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him.

  Kneeling in front of me, the Prince wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his chest. I melt into him, allowing myself to cry for just a little bit longer.

  Luca doesn’t say a word. He just holds me until I can take a full breath again.

  “Are they waiting for you?” I ask, nodding to the door.

  Luca shakes his head. “I sent everyone away. I’m staying here with you.”

  “Luca…”

  “Stop. Stop pushing me away. Stop telling me that we can’t be together. You need me right now, and I’m not leaving your side.”

  He holds my cheeks in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. His thumbs brush the last of my tears away, and I nod gently.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  Luca sits in a chair and pulls me onto his lap. I lay my head on his shoulder, and I tell him what the doctors said. I tell them about the drugs they found in her system. Heroin, and the one that they think caused her to overdose, fentanyl.

  “I’ve heard of fentanyl,” the Prince says, stroking my hair.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a synthetic opioid. Really strong, and really, really dangerous. In Argyle, it’s becoming a serious problem. Dealers are mixing it with cocaine, heroin, methamphetamines, you name it. They’re making it into pills.” He shakes his head. “People overdose often. Your sister isn’t the only one.”

  “How do you know that?”

  The Prince lets out a sigh. “I’ve taken my fair share of drugs—including opioids. When the doctors wouldn’t give me enough morphine to dull the pain, I looked elsewhere.” He kisses my temple.

  “You took fentanyl?” My throat tightens at the thought of the Prince ending up in my sister’s position. My body stiffens.

  He shakes his head. “No, thank goodness. At least I had a bit of sense left in this thick head of mine.”

  Relaxing into his chest, I let out a sigh.

  The Prince stays with me for hours, stroking my head and holding me until we both doze off in the chair. A nurse unceremoniously wakes us up as the sun goes down.

  “Visiting hours are over, folks,” she says, checking Margot’s IV bag and marking something down on a chart.

  “I want to stay.” My voice is strangled.

  The nurse lets out a sigh and turns to face me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You can’t.”

  Prince Luca squeezes my hand, and we both stand up. He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the room. When we get to the lobby, tears fill my eyes.

  “I can’t go back to that house, Luca. I can’t. I know I’ll just be seeing visions of her on the floor. Her skin grey, her lips blue…” I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  “Come on,” he says, leading me out of the hospital. “I’ll take you to the castle.”

  I don’t have the energy to think about the ramifications of that. The tiredness has settled deep in my marrow, and I let the Prince lead me to his car.

  I could blame tiredness completely, but the truth is that it feels good to lean on him. I’ve always been the one to provide support for my sister, for my mother, even my father at times. I’ve always been the strong one.

  Now, I don’t feel strong.

  I need help.

  With Luca’s gentle touch, his kind eyes, and his warm embrace, I know I can’t resist him—and I don’t want to.

  That night, when I climb into Prince Luca’s bed, I’m worried he’ll want to have sex. He emerges from the bathroom and slips into bed beside me, but his hands don’t wander. He wraps them around me and kisses the top of my head.

  He knows I can’t have sex with him right now.

  Even in the morning, when I wake up to his erection poking me in the back, he just lays a soft kiss on my forehead and rolls over to get up.

  We spend a week like that as Margot recovers in the hospital. Prince Luca becomes my rock, and I lean on his support more than I ever imagined I would. His kisses are soft, and tender, and his touch is nothing but loving.

  By the end of the week, when the haze of panic and sadness starts to lift, I look at him with new eyes.

  He’s not the rough, sexy, irresistible man I thought he was. He’s rough, and sexy, and irresistible, of course—but that’s not everything he is. He’s caring. Thoughtful. Supportive. His strength gets me through one of the worst weeks of my life, and every time he drops me off at the hospital and drives away to deal with his own responsibilities, I miss his presence beside me.

  Margot doesn’t speak much. She avoids my gaze, and her eyes are dim. Her skin, usually bright and glowing, is sallow and sunken.

  I spend every day with her, even though she tells me I don’t need to. By the end of the week, Margot is strong enough to sit up and move around on her own.

  On the day she’s going to be discharged, my beautiful, bright sister looks at me with a determined set to her jaw.

  “The doctor told me about a facility in the countryside. It’s kind of like rehab, except mostly just a therapy retreat. Since I’m not a regular user, they recommended I go there.”

  My heart flips. “Really?”

  Margot nods. “I need help. I don’t even remember anything about that night. The doctor said that can happen with trauma and overdoses, but… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling.” Her face darkens, and she shakes her head. “I need to get out of Farcliff.”

  “I’m proud of you, Margot.”

  She gives me a tight smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

  Throwing my arms around my sister, I nuzzle my head into her neck. I blink back tears, because I don’t want her to see me cry right now. I need to be strong for Margot, too
.

  “No word from Dad?” she asks when I pull away.

  I shake my head. “I left a message at his house in the Bahamas, but they said he’s on a cross-Atlantic sailing trip.”

  “Figures,” Margot grins. “It’s just you and me, then. As usual.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  That night, Margot and I go home. It’s the first night that I sleep in my own bed in over a week. I toss and turn all night, missing the weight of the Prince’s arm across my body.

  The next day, I drive Margot to the facility. It’s about halfway between Farcliff and Westhill, the country castle where Prince Gabriel stays most of the year. Margot will spend ninety days isolated from everything and everyone, working on herself. She’ll have no access to internet, and only have dedicated phone call times when we can talk.

  It’ll be a detox from drugs, alcohol, and every vice, but also from the fame and scrutiny that crushes her on a daily basis.

  My sister looks scared, but she puts on a brave smile and wraps her arms around me. “Thank you, Ivy. I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

  “Stop it,” I say, sniffling. “Just get yourself better.”

  Margot nods. Her long hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her face is free of makeup. She looks tired, yet gorgeous. My sister turns away from me and follows one of the center’s staff down a long, carpeted corridor. I watch her disappear, feeling equally devastated and proud.

  Devastated, because my sister isn’t the person I thought she was, and because I was too self-absorbed to see that she needed my help.

  Proud, because my sister was able to walk into this facility with her head held high. She’s facing her demons head-on, without hesitation.

  Would I have done the same?

  I’m not sure.

  I drive back to Farcliff in silence, drumming my hands on the steering wheel. When I get home, I swap the car for my scooter. I need to feel the air whipping around my face, and the freedom of having two wheels underneath me.

  I drive aimlessly through the Farcliff countryside until the sun starts to go down. When I make it back to my own house, I feel calmer than I have since this whole ordeal started. I park my scooter on the side of our mansion, and jingle my keys in my hand as I head toward the front door.

  Prince Luca is sitting on my front porch. He lifts his head and smiles at me, relief evident on his face.

  “I was worried about you,” he says, wrapping his arms around me. “I missed you last night.”

  “Me too.” My voice is muffled in his broad chest.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  I pull away to look at the Prince’s face.

  Luca’s eyes glimmer, and he nods to the driveway. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

  28

  Luca

  It took a lot of string-pulling to get this surprise organized in just one week, but seeing Ivy in pain was enough motivation for me to do it.

  I drive through the streets of Farcliff City toward the main shopping district. Parking the car on a side street, I produce a blindfold and dangle it in front of Ivy.

  “Put this on.”

  “I’m scared,” she grins, taking the blindfold. “What are you planning?”

  “Just put it on,” I laugh, taking the silk blindfold from her and securing it around her eyes. I jog around the front of the car and open the door for her, helping her out.

  Leading her down the street, I take a set of keys out of my pocket, jingling to tease her. Ivy titters, squeezing my hand. Then, I unlock the back door of the shop. Ivy stumbles over the threshold, but I catch her before she falls. Taking her hand, I can’t keep the smile from my face. I lead her down a narrow hallway and into the main kitchens.

  Ivy’s pulse is hammering. I can see it thumping in her neck as I stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

  “You ready?” I whisper in her ear.

  Ivy bites her lip. “I’m not sure.” She smiles, and my heart does a flip. I’ve seen far too few smiles from her this week.

  Hopefully this surprise will remedy that.

  I pull the blindfold off her head and take a step back. Ivy pauses, looking around the room. Gleaming stainless steel counters stare back at her, complete with a row of brand-new ovens, industrial stand mixers, molds, pans, bowls, utensils, and everything else that she could possibly need to start her bakery.

  Ivy’s jaw drops. She spins in a slow circle, taking everything in, and finally letting her gaze land on me.

  “What is this place?”

  “This is Spoonful of Sugar.”

  Ivy frowns. “What?”

  I laugh, kissing the tip of her nose. Nodding to the swinging door, I guide her out into the shopfront. I start pointing. “This is where you’ll display all your incredible baked goods. That’s where customers will walk in. This is where you’ll take their orders, and that’s where they’ll pay.”

  Ivy’s breath hitches. Tears cloud her eyes as her fingers come up to cover her mouth. Her eyes drift up to the sign above our heads. I’ve had it commissioned with the logo she sketched.

  “Luca,” she whispers.

  “It’s yours, Ivy.” I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “The lease on this place is paid for three years. I was hoping it would be fully finished, but the painters are in next week, and the main sign out front is still being manufactured. I just got impatient and I wanted to show you right away. I have some tables and chairs on order, as well, and they’re arriving in three days. I figure it’ll take us a few weeks, maybe a month, to get this place finished and get the menu finalized so you can open.” I go to the cash register and pull her folder out from the shelf underneath. “I hope you don’t mind, I broke into your pool house and borrowed this.”

  “My dream folder.”

  “Your reality folder,” I grin. “I haven’t purchased any ingredients yet, because I didn’t know if you were particular about types of flour and sugar, or whatever.” I shrug. “I don’t know anything about baking.”

  Ivy is still standing there, letting her eyes wander over the whole place. Finally, she looks at me and her face breaks into a smile. She throws her arms around my neck. I stumble back, catching myself on the display case as I laugh.

  “Luca! Oh my goodness…” Ivy pulls back, threading her fingers through my hair. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t deserve this.”

  “Stop.” I shake my head, tightening my grip on her waist. “Stop right there. You deserve every bit of it. I haven’t known you a long time, but in the time that I’ve known you, all you’ve done is live your life for other people. You can’t put your dreams on hold forever. You deserve this, and you’re going to do an amazing job.”

  Tears stream down Ivy’s face, and I brush them away with the pads of my thumbs. I press my lips to hers, feeling the way she trembles against me. Ivy clings onto me, burying her face into my neck. She sobs, and I just hold her until she starts to laugh, peppering me with kisses as laughter tumbles out between us.

  Shaking her head, she leans against my chest and looks around again. “I thought everything was falling apart when Margot got admitted to the hospital. I didn’t know what I’d do for the next ninety days. This is beyond my wildest expectations.”

  “You’d better put those cinnamon buns on the menu.”

  Ivy giggles, nodding. “I will. I’ll call them Luca Buns.” She reaches around to grab my ass, squeezing it with a giggle. “I feel like such a horrible person for saying this, but the fact that Margot is away for ninety days makes me feel a bit relieved—like I can throw myself into this bakery without feeling bad about it.” With a sigh, Ivy rubs her hands against her face. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “Sometimes, the truth isn’t pretty.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her in for a kiss. “And sometimes, you have to take care of yourself—that includes your own dreams and your own aspirations.”

  “You don’t think
I’m an awful person for being glad that my sister is in rehab—or celebrity therapy retreat or whatever you want to call it—so I can start my own business? Because I feel like an awful person for saying that.”

  “I think you need to take care of yourself. You’re just as important as your sister. You’re human, and you’re perfect.”

  My heart thumps when I look into Ivy’s eyes. She thinks that I’ve done all this for her, but the truth is, I did it because she makes me want to do something good. Watching her take care of her sister has made me realize that I’ve been living my life in my own head. I don’t remember the last time I did anything purely for someone else, just for the sake of it.

  Ivy makes me want to be better, and seeing the happiness in her face makes it all worth it.

  Taking her by the hand, I lead her out from behind the counter. The tables and chairs haven’t arrived yet, but I spread out a blanket and pillows that I’ve prepared. Popping a bottle of champagne, I settle Ivy down on the blanket and disappear into the back.

  I grab the picnic basket one of the royal chefs put together from the fridge and bring it out to Ivy. A smile breaks across her face when she sees me carrying the basket, and she shakes her head.

  “You really planned this out, didn’t you?”

  “I wanted to treat you how you deserve to be treated, Ivy. Make you see what I see in you.”

  Gathering her in my arms, I press my lips against hers. When she lets out a soft sigh, a shiver of excitement passes through my body.

  For the past week, I haven’t done much more than hold her and kiss her. It wasn’t the right time. She needed me to be there for her, to support her and love her—not to pressure her into having sex.

  Now, though, in Ivy’s new bakery, with the windows covered in paper and our picnic blanket spread out, the familiar desire is rising inside me again. I take Ivy’s lips in mine, deepening our kiss as I tangle my fingers into her hair.

  When Ivy moves to straddle me, I let out a soft groan.

  “You’re incredible, Poison.”