Knocked Up by the Wicked Prince: A Secret Baby Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  “Let’s just go to the castle, and then reassess. You still want to stay in Farcliff?”

  “This is Ivy’s home—and mine, too. I’ve been away from Argyle so long, I’m not sure it’s where I want to end up. There’s nothing for me there.”

  I give him a sad smile.

  I’m homesick. I’d like nothing more than to pick up and bring him, Ivy, and Margot back to Argyle. Farcliff is sandwiched between the United States and Canada, and it’s far too cold up here. I miss the Caribbean warmth of Argyle. The white, sandy beaches and the swaying palm trees. The azure waters, and the laid-back attitude.

  I can’t even imagine what the real winter will be like here. I’ve only seen snow twice in my life.

  Luca clears his throat, drawing me out of my own head. “You don’t have to stay,” he says, staring into my eyes.

  I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I do.”

  Margot looks absolutely stunning when we go to Farcliff Castle. Her long, blonde hair is curled in soft waves. Her makeup is flawless. Her body looks unreal. She’s wearing a demure, high-neck dress that makes me want to rip it off her gorgeous curves.

  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—that woman could wear absolutely anything, and she’d look like sex on legs.

  She gives me a shy smile as a valet opens the car door for us. He helps her out of the car, and a stab of jealousy stings my heart when the valet’s hand touches Margot’s. I brush it off, knowing it’s ridiculous for me to feel that way.

  I’ve known the woman two weeks, and I’m ready to tear the head off any man who looks at her. At this rate, I’ll be decapitating all of Farcliff.

  The four of us are led inside the castle, and I take a deep breath.

  I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by this kind of luxury. Ornate rooms, expensive paintings, flawless décor, and an army of staff to keep it all looking perfect.

  In a way, it feels good to be in a castle again, but a part of me has enjoyed living at the LeBlanc house. It’s just as safe and private as the castle, but it’s not nearly as formal. There isn’t staff waiting around every corner.

  Even though I’ve spent more time in public, I’ve felt like I have more privacy in the LeBlanc mansion than I did in Argyle.

  Coming to Farcliff Castle makes me feel exposed and nostalgic at the same time.

  The four of us stand when King Charlie and his Queen, Elle, walk into the room. I bow for the monarchs, straightening myself up to see King Charlie smiling wide. His three children trail behind, greeting us with bows and curtseys.

  Queen Elle is as tall as I am. She puts her hand around her eldest’s shoulders, pulling him close. The movement is intimate, and not something I’m used to seeing from royalty. The affection between the kids and the parents is so obvious, it makes my heart squeeze.

  I never thought I wanted kids, but seeing the King and Queen of Farcliff with their young ones, and seeing Luca excited over the twins makes me reconsider. Being a father seems like the best thing I could ever do with my life.

  Stealing a glance at Margot, I feel my pulse quicken.

  The King asks us to sit, and we fall into polite conversation.

  Queen Elle looks at me, tilting her head. “I must admit, Prince Dante, I’d never even seen a photo of you before last week.”

  “That’s by design,” I smile. “I’m a very private person.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  I nod. I have been lucky. To be able to be born into a life of privilege, and have the chance to still keep away from the crowds and cameras—it’s something I never truly appreciated until I came here.

  The children—two boys and a girl—sit on an overstuffed sofa and smile politely. The youngest, a girl, looks to be about nine years old. She’s staring at Margot with wide eyes.

  When we’re brought to the dining room, I catch Margot winking at the little Princess. Margot takes a sweet out of her purse and hands it to the princess, putting her finger to her lips conspiratorially. The girl smiles, and my heart warms.

  It’s rare to see Margot acting without any guardedness. She usually has walls up so high around her that it’s hard to see the person behind them. The three kids naturally gravitate toward her, surrounding her as we make our way to the dining room.

  Children and animals are the two greatest barometers when it comes to judging someone’s character. Right now, watching Margot interact with the three little royals makes my heart skip a beat.

  They see the same qualities in her that I do.

  I know I’ve only met Margot a couple of weeks ago. I know the most we’ve done is little more than kissing. So, why is my mind racing toward a future with her?

  I could see her beside me, lazing in bed on a Sunday morning with a few kids of our own one day.

  Tearing my eyes away from the blonde beauty, I inhale deeply to try to keep my thoughts under control. I barely know Margot. Just because I’m drawn to her doesn’t mean she’s going to carry my hypothetical children.

  Telling myself to get a grip is useless, though, because every time I look at her, I see a future I never thought I’d have. A future I never thought I wanted.

  A future that, all of a sudden, seems possible.

  14

  Margot

  When we get back to our own house, Luca and Ivy disappear upstairs. I glance into the kitchen, wishing I could have a glass of wine to unwind.

  It’s not even just the fact that I’m pregnant. It’s what happened that night with Beckett. Since he’s gone on the run, I’ve thought that he’s the one that caused my overdose, but I just don’t remember. That hole in my memory tortures me, and I don’t want to feel out of control again.

  Part of me thinks it was Beckett’s fault, somehow. The worst part is, I can’t say anything about it, because no one knows that Beckett was with me. If someone found out, they might put two and two together about the baby, and, well, that would be a disaster.

  Alcohol used to be my favorite vice. Now, I don’t even want to touch it. Even when I’m lonely and emotional, which seems to be happening a lot these days.

  Tonight, after seeing the love that the King and Queen have for each other, I feel lonelier than ever.

  I head out to the pool in the backyard. With winter on the way, the pool technician drained the pool a few inches this week. There won’t be any swimming in it until next year.

  I watch the vapor of my breath in the night air, letting my shoulders relax as I sink down onto a pool lounge chair. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I try to ward off the cold. In a way, it feels good to have the chill of the air seep into my bones. It makes me feel alive. Awake.

  A noise behind me makes me turn my head.

  “Mind if I join you?” Prince Dante asks.

  I smile. “Of course not. I was just trying to unwind. Being on my best behavior tends to stress me out.”

  The Prince’s smile widens. “I’d love to see you on your worst behavior.”

  “Don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.”

  The Prince grins, taking a seat in the lounge chair next to mine, his hand drifting over to me. He rests it on top of mine, and the warmth of his skin sends comfort flowing through my body.

  How is it possible to feel so comfortable with someone I barely know?

  “Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other for longer than two weeks?” Dante glances at me, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Like we’re long-lost lovers that have somehow, against all odds, reunited at last?”

  “Exactly,” he grins.

  I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, actually. I do.”

  “At least I’m not crazy.”

  “I never said that,” I laugh. “Maybe we’re both crazy.”

  “Crazy isn’t so bad.” His fingers curl around my hand. My heart thumps.

  My other hand drifts to my stomach. I want to tell Dante about the baby. I want to tell him everything. All the pain that I’ve been holding inside me, all the anxiety and fear, all t
he hopes and dreams and silly visions that I have for my future.

  I want him to know everything. I want him to be a part of my future.

  Is it desperate? Maybe.

  It’s true, though.

  A lump forms in my throat, and the words stick. Closing my eyes, I let his presence comfort me until I can breathe again.

  “Is it hard staying sober?”

  The Prince’s question surprises me. I turn my head to look at him, frowning slightly. He noticed I’ve been sober?

  He continues: “I mean, I’ve seen you refuse drinks at multiple dinners. I assumed it was something with your therapy. I just thought it might be hard, considering who you are and the kind of events you have to go to.”

  Smiling, I shake my head. “No. It’s not really that hard.” With my hand still on my stomach, I think of my child. It’s not hard to stay sober for my baby.

  The Prince’s eyebrows arch. “No?”

  I chuckle. “I mean, not really. I only ever really partied, I was never a really heavy user or anything. I drank a lot at celebrity events. There are some embarrassing photos of me online.”

  “Yeah,” Dante says, gazing at the pool.

  “You’ve seen them?”

  He stiffens, straightening up in the chair. “I mean, I don’t… I’m not…”

  “Have you been Googling me, Your Highness?”

  Dante swings his gaze to meet mine and a grin tugs at the corner of his full, irresistible lips. “Can you blame me?”

  “Find anything interesting?”

  “Plenty.”

  His eyes linger on mine, sending pulsing heat rushing through my body. Whenever he looks at me like that, butterflies explode though my stomach. I clear my throat, tearing my gaze away from his. If I look at him much longer, I’ll be climbing onto his chair and straddling him right here, right now.

  I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I have lots of reasons to stay sober. It kills me that I don’t know what happened the night that I OD’d.”

  “Have you ever considered that it might have been Beckett?”

  I gulp, keeping my gaze straight ahead. “Your Highness, I wouldn’t…” If I say yes, he’ll know I was with Beckett.

  “Come on, Margot. My half-brother went on a murderous rampage. He was trying to get at Luca by any means possible. Why not through you?”

  My mind spins circles around me. How am I supposed to answer this? If I say yes, it’ll be tantamount to admitting that Beckett was with me. If I say no, I’m lying, and I’ve never been a good liar.

  So, I settle on the truth.

  “I’ve thought of it, but I don’t know how he would have hurt me.”

  He nods, gazing at me. “I’ll find out.”

  “Dante, you don’t have to do that. You have enough to deal with already, between Luca and the security around here. You don’t need to add me to your list of burdens.”

  “You’re not a burden. Never.”

  I take a deep breath, staring up at the stars in the sky. My breath leaves little puffs of vapor, and I watch it dissipate. The Prince squeezes my hand.

  “I mean it, Margot. I care about you.”

  “Long-lost lovers,” I whisper, staring up at the night sky.

  The truth is on the tip of my tongue. The Prince has shoved a wedge in the cage around my heart, and he’s slowly prying it open. I could open my mouth and tell him everything.

  My diagnosis. The night I found out. The baby. Beckett. My suspicions about my overdose.

  I can’t get the words out, though. I’m scared of losing what little affection he has for me.

  “Hey,” Dante whispers, tugging at my arm. I turn to look at him, feeling the wedge in my chest split the cage open another fraction of an inch. His eyes are so kind. They make me want to spill my secrets, to share my entire life with him.

  It wouldn’t be that hard. In a few words, I could rid myself of this awful burden. I could tell him everything. It’s like he said—it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Maybe he wouldn’t turn me away. Maybe I wouldn’t lose him. Maybe it would bring us closer together.

  He opens his mouth to speak, but the back door of the house slides open.

  Felicity, my publicist, calls out my name. She comes running across the grass toward us.

  “Margot! I’ve been trying to call you!”

  “I don’t have my phone.”

  Throwing an apologetic glance at the Prince, I get up off the lounge chair. Felicity huffs, leaning on the pool fence. When she sees the Prince, her eyes widen. She curtsies awkwardly and then turns to me. “Hunter gave an interview.”

  My ribs squeeze. The Prince slides his hand over my lower back, and I lean into him for comfort.

  Felicity glances at him, and then back at me. “He told the Enquirer that you’re pregnant. I’ve drafted a statement to deny it, but…” She chews her lip, glancing at my stomach.

  “But you want to know if it’s true or not,” I finish for her.

  Felicity nods, and the Prince freezes beside me.

  “He published medical records,” Felicity says, frowning. “They could be fake, but…”

  My heart sinks. I wish I could have had a few more weeks with him. Maybe even just a few more days, the way things are going. I wish I could have laid in bed beside him and felt his naked body next to mine. I would have loved to have felt him inside me just once—just to feel what it’s like to orgasm with a man like him.

  But now, I’ll never know.

  The news will never bring us closer together. Once he finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll never want to keep up this…whatever this is between us.

  I take a deep breath, dragging my eyes up to Felicity’s. I nod.

  Her face falls. “Margot…”

  “Just over eighteen weeks,” I say, running my hand over my stomach.

  The Prince hasn’t said a word. His hand is still on my back, but I can sense the uneasiness pulsing from him. Gathering all my courage, I force myself to look at him.

  I gulp. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  Tears sting my eyes.

  The Prince shakes his head, sliding his hand around to hold my waist. “You were never obligated to tell me.”

  Felicity clears her throat. “Is His Highness the father?” Her eyes dart from me to Dante and back to me again.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Who…?”

  “It’s not important. He’s not in the picture.”

  Felicity lets out a breath. “Well, this complicates things.”

  I snort. “I know it does. But that’s why you get paid the big bucks, Felicity.”

  “What am I going to tell your sponsors?”

  “Tell them I’m going to be a mother,” I shrug.

  “So…you’re keeping it?”

  I stare at my publicist, letting her words sink in. Heat rises to my head and I feel like steam is blowing out of my ears. “Of course I’m keeping it, Felicity. This baby saved my life. This baby is the one good thing about my life right now.” I gulp, stealing a glance at the Prince. “Well, one of very few good things. It’s everything to me. To be honest with you, I don’t care about the sponsorships, or this house, or what you’ll say to news outlets or what you want to post to my social media. Do whatever you want. Excuse me.”

  I nod to the Prince, slipping past Felicity and making my way into the house. My heart is racing and my face feels hot. I clench my fists, climbing the steps up to the second floor as blood pounds in my ears.

  I can hear Ivy and Luca kissing in the living room, and it only makes me feel worse.

  I’m alone.

  Again.

  I was a fool to think it could work out. I was an idiot to let Dante get close to me.

  It’ll never work out. His murderous half-brother is the father of my child, and the minute he learns about it, he won’t want anything to do with me.

  It’s not until I’m undressed and under a hot shower that I let my shoulders relax. I cr
adle my tiny baby bump, sending all my love and strength inward.

  Then, I realize that I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone.

  I have my baby.

  15

  Dante

  I watch Margot walk away in stunned silence. Her publicist stares as well, and then turns her gaze to me.

  “Did you know?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Scanning my body, I try to figure out what I’m feeling. Shocked, of course. Protective.

  A little turned on?

  The thought of Margot being a mother makes my heart thump. I saw the pain in her eyes when she looked at me—but also the determination.

  Now, I feel like I understand the strength inside her. I understand how she can face her fears, her anxieties, and her worries. I understand how she can recover from her past and keep moving forward.

  She’s a mother.

  To my surprise, that fact doesn’t change my opinion of her, or how attracted I am to her. I watch Margot walk into the house as my heart grows in my chest.

  I nod to the publicist and follow Margot inside. Voices draw me toward the living room, and I see Luca and Ivy in deep discussion. They both look up when I walk in.

  Ivy’s face is tight. She gives me a small smile. “You found out about Margot?”

  “Did you know?”

  They both nod. I frown at Luca. “You didn’t tell me?”

  He shrugs. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

  I sit with them, leaning against the sofa as I mull over this development. How does this impact Beckett and his attack on Luca? Is Margot in more danger now, or less?

  Luca answers my unsaid question. “We’ll keep security tight on the two girls,” he says, nodding to me. “And continue trying to draw Beckett out to face us. Now, more than ever, it’s important that we keep Ivy and Margot safe. Who knows—maybe the news will be enough to get Beckett to show himself. Maybe he’ll think it’s mine.”

  Tension ratchets up in my body at the thought of Luca touching Margot.

  I take a deep breath. “Theo said they’re not having much luck searching Argyle. He’s had to open the ports and let planes fly on a normal schedule again, but security is still tight.”