Bound by the Unborn Baby

by Bella Bucannon

  He watched impatiently as this miniature of his sister was weighed and checked, exulted when her fingers wrapped around the one he used to touch her palm lightly. Scowled when she gave a tiny mew as they took a blood sample from her heel.

  With the doctor’s all-clear he carried their baby to the woman he adored beyond reason. His hopes soared as her eyes opened to reveal misty love-filled violet. As he gently lowered their little girl into her arms he held his breath, praying this little angel would finally erase the last vestige of her grief.

  ‘We have a little girl, my darling. A beautiful daughter.’ He said it proudly, aloud for the world to hear. His next whispered words were for her alone. ‘As beautiful as her mothers. Both of them.’

  Still cradling his daughter’s head, he wrapped his arm around his wife. He believed his emotions had peaked until her finger softly caressed the tiny cheek, and they zoomed even higher. His heart threatened to burst through his chest as she pressed her lips to the ruddy pink forehead. She gazed down in wonder, her lips curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

  When she looked at him, her eyes shone like diamonds. ‘We have a daughter, Ethan. I love you both so much,’ she said huskily.

  Her words thrilled him. Her kiss echoed her spoken words.

  Alina had welcomed his tender caresses, his declarations of affection as he’d tried to ease her pain. Had seen his disconcertion at the nurse’s attempt to take over. She’d always treasure the memory of his startled expression when their baby had slid into his hands, quickly replaced by one of wondrous awe as he tenderly gathered the precious bundle to his chest. She saw a tiny fist waving in protest and felt her breasts respond to the plaintive cry.

  Her heart had blipped when he’d nestled the baby into her arms. Blipped and then beaten steady and strong as she saw dark hair, cobalt blue eyes, bow lips and long fingers: the perfect blend of her natural parents. As she’d touched the soft rosy cheek the last trace of anguish had faded, leaving only the gentler sorrow for what might have been.

  She choked up at the sight of Ethan’s hand cradling their daughter’s head—protective, loving. The way he’d cradled her from the start. With tenderness and patience he’d demolished her defences, allowing her to recall the good memories without pain, allowing her to love again.

  She kissed their daughter’s brow and guided her searching mouth to her breast. Rejoiced at the ecstasy of this unique moment of bonding. Their daughter. How wonderful it sounded now.

  Gazing at her husband she wondered if a heart could burst with joy. She stretched her neck to kiss him, luxuriating in the knowledge that he was hers. Basking in the glow from his darkening cobalt eyes.

  ‘Louisa.’ He stroked their daughter’s hair. ‘A priceless gift. Very much wanted and loved.’

  ‘Louisa Leona James,’ she countered. ‘A mother has naming rights too.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from WEDDED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY by Susan Meier.

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  Wedded for His Royal Duty

  by Susan Meier

  CHAPTER ONE

  PRINCE ALEXANDROS SANCHO drove his horse up a thin path that wound through the woods behind the palace grounds of his family’s estate. Thor moved with the speed and agility of a true champion, creating a tunnel of wind that swirled around them.

  Normally, Alex would be on the beach right now. Enjoying the bikini-clad beauties showing off their toned and tan bodies, pretending they were oblivious to the attention they drew.

  With his ever-present bodyguards dressed as tourists, standing strategically around him, and a steady stream of friends at the ready, he’d swim a bit, have lunch, gamble, take a nap and then shower to start all over again.

  First, he’d hit the casinos to see if he could find a woman who suited his mood as a companion for the evening, then they’d have dinner, maybe gamble some more and let the night take them where it would.

  He nudged Thor to go faster. Today, he couldn’t do any of the things he loved to do. Least of all find a willing female. No. Today was the day he would officially meet the woman he would marry.

  The princess.

  He all but spat the word in his mind as the wind caressed him, trying to soothe him and failing. He’d seen pictures of her, of course. Through the years, they’d also unofficially run into each other at boarding school. But she was several years younger, and he’d met her believing she’d be marrying his older brother Dominic as part of a treaty. So their greetings had been stilted, though polite. After boarding school, their paths never crossed again. She’d attended university in the United States where she’d taken up causes—everything from starving children to stray cats.

  He struggled not to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. Dominic had gotten a one-night stand pregnant, and he’d married Ginny because their son was the next heir to Xaviera’s throne, which made Alex the only prince available to fulfill the terms of the treaty with Grennady. Princess Eva had turned twenty-five a few months before. She was officially marriage age, and his time of doing what he wanted, when he wanted, was up.

  Even worse, she would be Grennady’s queen one day. Marrying a crusader who would be queen seemed apt punishment for a prince who’d spent his life avoiding responsibility.

  With another nudge to Thor, he sent the horse galloping toward the stable, only slowing the pace when they got close to the wide wooden barn door. He jumped off and tossed his riding crop to a servant girl milling about the building. Her faded blue jeans and T-shirt showed off a fantastic figure, but it was her dark hair and pale blue-gray eyes that made his hormones sit up and take notice.

  Any other day, he’d flirt, itching to run his hands through the shiny black locks that probably reached her bottom when they weren’t hiked up in a ponytail. But, today, he was about to meet his future bride.

  “Thor gets the star treatment,” he said, taking off the black helmet that matched his black leather boots and gloves. “Don’t think you can scrimp with brushing. I’ll be back this evening after tonight’s dinner party to make sure he’s been properly cared for.”

  The woman looked at him in bewilderment.

  He sighed. “I know. He’s an Arabian with four white boots. Bad luck if yo
u want to breed him.”

  “But I’m—”

  “New. I get it.” And he didn’t want to stand around chatting. Especially not with a beautiful woman, who only reminded him of everything he was tossing away because of his family’s misplaced sense of duty. “Off with you, now. I have business.”

  * * *

  Princess Eva Latvaia looked at the riding crop in her hands, then Prince Alex Sancho’s back as he walked away from her. Sweat caused his white-and-tan polo shirt to stick to his skin, displaying unexpectedly toned muscles. He ran his fingers through his gorgeous, thick curly black hair.

  At least their children would be getting good genes.

  She shook her head and took Thor’s reins. “A fine name for you, sir. A child of the gods.”

  The great horse whinnied.

  Eva laughed. She said, “You’re a misfit,” but she stroked his nose to take the sting out of it. “So am I.”

  Thor shook his head.

  “How’d you end up in a palace?”

  One of the stable employees raced out of the open double doors. He grabbed the reins in Eva’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Princess.” He bowed.

  She straightened regally, aware of her position, but she also smiled. “This is what I get for taking a stroll when I should be getting ready for a party.”

  The older gentleman chuckled and turned to walk Thor into the stable.

  Eva had heard the Sancho household was different. She supposed having a new baby around was part of it. But she’d also heard that the woman who’d married Dominic, the prince Eva had been dreaming of since she was four, had brought a more relaxed attitude to the royal family.

  And now Eva had to face Dom tonight—and his princess—the woman who’d basically stolen him from Eva. In a way, his marrying someone else was good. She was next in line for her throne. So was he. Theirs would have been a difficult life and a difficult marriage. Still, she’d been dreaming of Dom since she was old enough to watch Cinderella, in love with the idea of marrying a handsome prince and ruling their countries together. Her whole world had worked itself out in her head. And now—

  Now, add losing Dom to what her father had done, and everything was off. Wrong. Almost unbearable.

  Head high, she walked back to the palace. She rode the elevator to the fourth floor and the guest apartment she’d been given for her stay. She opened just one door of the elegant double-door entrance, and strode through the high-ceilinged foyer to the sitting room, where her mother picked a chocolate from the tray provided as a welcome gift from the king. It seemed she’d replaced crying with eating.

  “You’re not going to fit into your mother-of-the-bride dress for the wedding if you keep eating those.”

  Her mom, a short thin woman with hair as black as Eva’s, offered the candy to her. “They’re divine. You should try them.”

  “Then both of us will need a bigger size dress.”

  Eva’s mother dropped the chocolate back to the tray. “You’re right. I want to look nice. I want your derelict of a father to feel bad for leaving me. And I want to prove at least some of us take our royal duties to heart.”

  Eva sat on the sofa. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Mom.”

  “Running away with an aide.” She shook her head. “Seriously. Could he be any more cliché?”

  “It’s not exactly cliché to give up your throne.” He hadn’t officially put down his crown, but a royal divorce came with consequences. Running away with another woman meant a divorce would soon follow, and her dad would no longer be king. Then she would be queen. At twenty-five years old, she’d have the weight of a country on her shoulders. She couldn’t believe her father had done this to her—and for a mistress.

  She thanked God that the Sancho family had insisted they fulfill the terms of the treaty that promised her in marriage to one of King Ronaldo’s sons. At least she had this way of bringing herself into the good graces of their subjects before she took the crown. Even if she wasn’t getting the prized prince, the son who would be king, she would prove she would do her duty to her country even when things were crumbling around her, by upholding the terms of a treaty that ensured oil and safe passage for Grennady’s tankers.

  “I wonder if he’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Your dad?” Her mom winced. “Great. Thanks for reminding me that he might. Now I really do have to give up chocolates.” She tossed the candy tray to the coffee table. “While you were out, did you hear any palace gossip about when the wedding will occur?”

  “Xaviera’s servants are a happy, obviously well-cared-for staff, and they are incredibly closemouthed.”

  Her mom rose from the sofa. “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

  “I guess we will.”

  As her mother turned and walked to her bedroom, Eva headed in the opposite direction to the second bedroom.

  Having lived in America for seven years, she no longer had a maid draw her bath. She relished the simple pleasure of running water, adding scented oils and luxuriating—alone—for twenty minutes.

  But remembering the way Alexandros had thought her a servant girl, she called for the palace hairdresser. She had housekeeping steam her gown to make sure there wasn’t a hint of a wrinkle.

  That evening, when she stepped out of her room and into the apartment’s sitting area, her mom gasped. “Oh, Eva! Are you sure red is a good idea? And strapless? Showing your shoulders when you meet a king and your future husband? They could think you a tart.”

  With a quick nod of approval for her mom’s sedate blue gown that showed off her thin figure and suited her black hair, she said, “Alexandros already mistook me for a servant girl.”

  “What?”

  “I ran into Alex when I took a walk to the stables. He handed me his riding crop, told me to take care of his horse.”

  Her mom gaped in horror.

  “I want to see the look on his face when he realizes who I am.”

  “Is it that or are you trying to make Prince Dominic jealous?”

  Eva stopped halfway to the sofa, her heart rattling around in her chest. She’d loved Prince Dominic from the day she’d found his picture in the newspaper and her mom had told her he was the boy she would be marrying. While other girls crushed on rock stars and soccer players, she’d happily shown everyone the picture of her handsome prince. She never had to feel bad if she didn’t get invited to a dance or if boys ignored her at a party. She had her prince.

  And he’d married someone else.

  She swallowed hard, as humiliation bubbled through her, but when she faced her mother she wore a happy smile. Her mom had enough misery of her own. She didn’t need to be further upset over how uncomfortable this situation was for Eva.

  “Now, wouldn’t I be silly to be pining over a man I didn’t even know?”

  Her mother eyed her shrewdly. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  She seemed to buy that, but Eva’s breath gave a funny catch. What was it going to feel like not just meeting Dominic, but meeting the woman who had stolen him right out from under her?

  A member of the palace guard arrived and escorted them to the king’s private quarters. The king himself and his new wife, Queen Rose, greeted them.

  King Ronaldo took Eva’s hand and kissed it. “It is such a pleasure to meet you as an adult, Princess.”

  Eva smiled graciously and curtsied. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty.”

  “This is my new wife, Rose. She’s Princess Ginny’s mom. She and Dominic aren’t here yet, but you know how new babies are. They don’t always adhere to schedules.” He laughed. “Anyway, Queen Rose, may I present Princess Eva Latavia of Grennady.”

  Eva curtsied again. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  Queen Rose, a tall blonde with jus
t a hint of pink in her hair and a very obvious Texas twang, waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, none of that for me.” She suddenly enveloped Eva in a hug. “This is the way we welcome people into the family in Texas.” She pulled back and looked Eva in the eye. “You’re familiar, right? You were educated in the US?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Eva said, mimicking the Southern drawl she’d heard the entire time she was at Florida State.

  Rose laughed. “That’s my girl!”

  King Ronaldo turned to Eva’s mother. “And this is your mom? Queen Karen, correct?”

  Eva’s heart swelled with gratitude when the king mentioned nothing of her father’s potential abdication of the throne and still gave her mom the respect of the title Queen.

  Her mother curtsied. “Your Majesty.”

  He bowed. “It’s my honor to meet you.” He motioned to Rose. “And this is Queen Rose.”

  Karen curtsied again. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  Rose chuckled. “I know you people like your official greetings, but I’m just a hugger.” She gave Karen a big squeeze.

  The king directed everyone into a drawing room with a bar.

  Eva looked around in unabashed curiosity. She knew some royals were wealthier than others. Xaviera’s location alone gave them access to oil money. But this palace was amazing. The art so casually displayed on the walls was probably worth the gross national product of Grennady.

  Her mom leaned in and whispered to her daughter, “So, the mom of the last princess ended up married to the king. Maybe this won’t be such a bad deal after all?”

  Eva couldn’t stop a giggle that escaped. “Behave.”

  “Rose doesn’t.”

  “She’s the queen. That gives her license to be eccentric.”

  “Right.”