Knocked Up By My Billionaire Boss

by Ella Brooke

  He couldn't quite decide if it was in spite of these things or actively because of them that she made him smile. It was just part of what he was deciding was the mystery of Briony.

  He had been full of righteous indignation when he had returned to Florence after their admittedly disastrous reunion. He had run the gamut from wanting to cut off all ties with her and Eva, to simply using the immense resources at his disposal to claim Eva as his own, and damn whatever came next.

  As he had stormed and plotted, however, two things had grown out of his turmoil. The first was that he needed Eva in his life. He had never thought about children in a dimension other than political and abstract. Seeing the actuality of Eva, needing to hold her and knowing he had no right to do so, was like a pain through him. The second thing he realized was that he wanted Briony as well. In his memory, Briony gleamed like a star, something he had wondered if the real woman herself could ever compete with. After he’d met her in LA, he knew beyond a doubt that she shadowed the memory rather than the other way around. She was brilliant and vibrant, fierce and protective. He had to know more about her, and their kiss upon meeting again after all that time stunned him to his very core.

  They were both his, and he had to claim them.

  It was a desperate move to bring them to Florence as he had, taking over her job and having her transferred to Florence, but Marco was more than willing to say that he was a desperate man.

  However, when he gazed at the sleeping woman and their slumbering child, there was something there that offered him a peace he had never known. There was no desperation when they were together. There was only an ocean of feeling that swelled up with a sweetness that was almost too intense to be borne.

  ***

  Briony awoke when her daughter let out a muffled whimper. For a moment, a pang of fear struck her through. Where was she? This wasn't her car, and where was her apartment? Then her memory returned, and she realized she was in Florence in Marco's limo.

  "Are we..."

  "Hush, we're home. Come with me."

  It was dark outside with just a few pinkish streaks left in the sky. Briony unbuckled a whimpering Eva from her car seat, snuggling her baby against her chest.

  "You're okay, sweetie, come on, we'll get you fed..."

  She blinked at the grand steps that led up to a house that needed to be properly called a mansion. Marco's hand at her back surprised her for a moment, but then she could feel a deep comfort ride through her.

  "It's home," he said softly. "Come on..."

  "I was supposed to be given quarters by the university," she murmured, but she followed him up the stairs, too tired and bewildered to fight.

  "Yes, and I am supplying those quarters. Let me show you..."

  He led her through the marble hallways that looked more like a museum than a place where people lived. She wondered if there was a grand bedchamber or something, but then he led her to what he called the guest wing. Briony watched as Marco opened a door to reveal a comfortable apartment, classically decorated but modern in every respect.

  "I think this will suit your needs," he said, and she could tell that it would. It was easily twice as large as her own apartment at home, with two bedrooms attached to a living room and even a small kitchen.

  He started to say something else, but Briony interrupted.

  "I'm sorry," she blurted out. "But I need to feed Eva."

  "Of course," he said, looking slightly guilty.

  She waited, but he showed no indication of leaving. She wondered if that should embarrass her, but a rebellious streak had appeared. He could leave if he wished. She wasn't doing anything wrong.

  She seated herself on the couch and tugged open the front of her wrap dress. She had never really worn dresses until she had Eva, but she practically lived in them now. Her breasts felt far heavier than usual, and when Eva, still just waking up, latched on, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  Briony fell into a kind of gentle daze as her daughter suckled, at peace with the world for at least a little longer. Minutes passed before she glanced up at Marco.

  He stood close by, an expression of awe on his face. There was wonder there and also longing. It would have taken a stronger woman than Briony to deny him.

  "Come here. Sit with us."

  He came as if he had been waiting for the invitation, sitting as close to her as he could. Briony shifted her daughter to her other breast, covering the first, and she must have winced because Marco stiffened.

  "Does it hurt?"

  "It's a little sore, but that's because she didn't get a chance to drink before. It'll be far better once we're on a schedule."

  He made a soft sound, and he watched their daughter drink with a fascination that warmed Briony. Perhaps he could learn about women's character with a daughter of his own. Perhaps there was hope for all three of them together...

  "Is there anything I can do?" he asked as Eva finished, and Briony grinned.

  "Here, grab a towel. I'll show you how to burp her."

  She watched with a kind of tired amusement as the billionaire Italian prince struggled to burp and clean a baby for the first time. He was just fine the first time, but she wondered if he would still be so fascinated the eight time, the twentieth, the hundredth time. Were they just a novelty for him? Only time could tell.

  "Here, I've set her up with a nursery. I had an expert put it together, but if you have any concerns, I'll take care of them."

  Eva was still exhausted from the stimulus of a new day. After her meal, she was already nodding off to sleep again, and Briony was grateful to lie her down in a crib that likely cost as much as some small cars.

  "She's so very beautiful," Marco murmured, gazing down as Briony covered her daughter with a small blanket.

  "She is that. She looks just like you. Same dark hair, same dark eyes."

  He shot Briony an amused glance. "She has your features as well. She'll be a beauty."

  "I'll be happy if she's just happy."

  "I will do everything in my power to make sure of it," he said, and Briony couldn't help but grin.

  "Good."

  Chapter Ten

  Briony woke the next morning feeling as if she had awakened from a dream. Surely she wasn't in Florence again? Surely she hadn't reconnected with Marco? Then memory returned, and she shook her head. Life could be very strange sometimes, and now she was caught up in a world she could barely believe.

  She lounged in her enormous bed, watching the honey-like sunlight spill in through the window. The day outside promised to be warm and balmy, and she wondered where the palace was exactly, how close they were to the Florence city center.

  Suddenly, she sat up with shock. A scramble for her phone told her that it was past the time for Eva to be up and demanding her morning feeding. She threw on her old, tattered pink robe over her T-shirt and shorts, wincing at the fact that she hadn't showered the night before.

  Had something happened in the night? Had Eva cried without being heard?

  She crossed the hall to her daughter's bedroom. The door was open, and she blinked as she gazed in.

  "Who are you? What are you doing with my baby?"

  There was a sweetly plump girl holding Eva in her arms, and Briony couldn't stop herself from feeling a flash of irrational jealousy at how content her baby looked.

  "Oh, good morning, miss," the girl said with slightly accented English. "I am Paz. His Highness hired me to care for your baby. I am very pleased to meet you."

  Briony was so stunned by the development that she only murmured a hello as Paz reeled off what she had gotten done over the last hour.

  "So, she has been changed and bathed, and she only needs to be fed now," Paz said, and as if in agreement, Eva let out a sad little whine.

  "Oh, of course," Briony said, and she sat down at the rocking chair in the corner of the room to feed her daughter. As she did so, she gestured for the other young woman to sit on the window seat close by.

  "I'm pl
eased to meet you, Paz, but you see, his...er, His Highness Marco didn't consult with me about this at all. I didn't know he had hired someone to come in and look after Eva, and I don't need anyone..."

  Paz blinked large, dark eyes at Briony, and her mouth curved downwards. "Miss, I do come very highly recommended, and I am so happy to take this job..."

  Briony knew she should cut the girl off, but in spite of herself, she was impressed by Paz's qualifications and her sheer determination. Reading between the lines, she could see that not only was this work that Paz liked to do, it was work she needed, and that certainly struck a chord.

  "All right," she said cautiously. "Let's...let's see how this works out, all right? We'll try it for a few weeks, but if it doesn't work, that'll be it, got it?"

  "Got it," Paz said with a grin, the American idiom sitting a little oddly in her mouth. "You will be very satisfied, I swear."

  Briony had to admit that right away, having Paz on board was convenient. After Eva was fed, Briony could hand her off to Paz while she went to finally shower.

  The bathroom turned out to be as luxurious as the rest of the apartment, with a glass-walled shower and a water flow that resembled real rain. Briony had been prepared for more luxury than she’d had in her apartment in LA, but standing under the hot water, her eyes closed, was simply incredible. It wasn't just the luxury of the shower, she realized. It was the luxury of time. She couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a really long, hot shower, not when Eva occupied so much of her time.

  Be careful, she told herself. This isn't your world, and it's too easy to get lost in it.

  She got out of the shower feeling more like herself than she had in ages, and in her bedroom, she changed into a soft lavender dress. It had the wrap top that would allow her to feed Eva quickly, but she thought it showed off her curves to her advantage as well. She was remarking on that thought, and then she blushed a little. What the hell was she thinking?

  "I'm headed out to find Marco," she said to Paz. "Will you two be all right here?"

  "Oh yes, miss," Paz said happily, Eva in her arms, and Briony made a face.

  "Briony's fine," she said, but she could see that it might take Paz a little longer to use her proper name.

  Outside the door of her quarters, Briony was momentarily stunned by the size and grandeur of the palace. It had been lovely and imposing enough when she and Eva had arrived last night, but in daylight, it was incredible. Real gold ornamented the intricate trim, and as she walked down one gallery, paintings of people she knew were Marco's ancestors glared down at her sternly.

  This is Eva's birthright, Briony thought. These stern ancestors, this gold, this wonder...but where do I fit in?

  She was so fascinated by the paintings of the Bianchis that had come before that she didn't realize she wasn't alone. A soft cough made her turn around, and she saw that Marco was watching her from the entryway to the gallery. He was dressed in loose cotton pants and a soft shirt that hung open over his shoulders. With a cup of something hot in his hand, he looked utterly at home.

  "Oh, good morning," she said, suddenly feeling like an intruder, and he smiled, walking towards her.

  "Are you feeling a little intimidated by the family?" he asked when he was close enough to touch. "I always do in this hall. That's why I don't come down here all that often."

  "Aren't they your family?" she asked in surprise. "Why are you intimidated by them?"

  "They're proper Bianchis," he said with a slight shrug. "I'm not of the main family line. I was never meant to inherit. The fact that I'm here as Prince Marco Bianchi is a bit of an affront to the ones who murdered and schemed their family to the throne."

  "I think you're doing very well with it," Briony said, a strange spark of loyalty growing in her. "I read about your philanthropic donations, all of your work with the poor in Florence."

  "Thank you," he said, looking down at her with surprise. "I didn't think you knew about that."

  "I read up," she said, suddenly shy. "I thought I should know about you."

  Marco chuckled, and the sound sent a thrill of silver up her spine. This man could make her shiver from across the room, and suddenly she felt as ungainly and gawky as she had as an unkissed teenager at prom.

  "Suddenly so shy?" he teased. "Are you only bold when you are angry?"

  She wasn't angry, but his words reminded her of why she had come looking for him in the first place.

  "Oh! Paz! We need to talk about that."

  He looked at her with surprise. "Have you found her unsatisfactory? I imagine you would not have left Eva with her if you had found her so..."

  "No, she's lovely, but..."

  "Then you can come have some breakfast with me while we discuss that, yes?"

  She might have argued, but her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the plane the night before. Honestly, it was a miracle that she was on anything like normal time in Italy, and she gave in to Marco's offered hand.

  "All right, but we're talking while we eat," she said, and he grinned.

  "Understood."

  She had imagined Marco eating in something like a banquet hall. Perhaps the two of them would need to shout at each other from either end of the table, or servants would deliver them food as they ate in silence.

  Instead, Marco led her to a gorgeous room walled in glass letting in a breathtaking amount of morning light. There was a small table in the center of the room, which seemed to be some sort of elegant conversation area surrounded by a low bench around the wall and piled up with pillows.

  "Oh, but this is gorgeous," she breathed, looking around.

  "This is one of the older parts of the palace," Marco said with a slight smile. "Go back far enough and there's a fair amount of Moorish blood in the family. It remains in the architecture, as you can see."

  With a start, Briony realized that when Marco was talking about his history, he was also talking about Eva's. As they sat down to a delicious breakfast of sliced fruit, perfectly warm, flaky croissants, and cups of hot chocolate, Briony felt bowled over by the rush of history. In the United States, history felt like a drop in the bucket, something you could see immediately. Here in Florence, history rolled back into the fog, and if you were lucky, you had a velvet ribbon to follow.

  "Will you tell Eva about this?" she asked suddenly. "Will you tell her about her ancestors, even if they might not have preferred someone like her?”

  "Someone like her?" he asked with a frown, and she smiled a little.

  "Born from an unwed mother and a one-night stand, born in America, half whatever it is that Seanan and I are. We don't really keep track of such things in America, you know."

  Marco shook his head, and to her surprise, he reached over to cover her hand with his.

  "If my fool ancestors thought they would prefer someone else to Eva, then it is a good thing they are dead. She is my child. I know this, and she has my blood. That is what is important. She belongs here, and all of this...it belongs to her."

  "Thank you," Briony said quietly. She could see that Marco meant it, and there was a part of her that could have wept with gratitude. At his curious look, she explained.

  "Seanan and I are orphans. Our parents died when I was twelve and Seanan was eighteen. An aunt took me in, but she died only a few years later, and then Seanan and I were on our own. We...we both have issues with being wanted, I suppose. Seanan goes out of her way to make sure that the whole world wants her..."

  "And you...perhaps you only want to be wanted by those who understand you very well?"

  She laughed a little, shaking her head. "Or maybe I think it would be better and easier to be completely unnoticed. That's a matter for a skilled therapist, I suppose. But I will be happy to say without needing to consult anyone that the idea of Eva having a place like I never had... It feels good."

  "Even if it involves me hiring a nanny?" Marco asked innocently, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  "Don't think I'm
letting you off the hook on that one," she said, even as she was becoming certain that she had done just that. "That's not something you should surprise me or Eva with."

  "I promise I'll not make a habit of it. I started looking as soon as I knew you were coming to Florence, and of all the three dozen applicants, she was the one I liked best."

  "I like her a great deal too," Briony admitted. "But I'll admit that I'm feeling a little lost. I mean, for the last three, three and a half months, all I've done is be with Eva. I think this breakfast with you is the longest I've been without her."

  Marco tilted his head at her. For a man who was known as one of the most libertine playboys in Europe, he sure could listen, Briony reflected.

  "And how do you feel about that?"

  She hesitated. She wondered how he would take her reaction, but well, she was entitled to it, wasn't she?

  "Weird," she said at last. "At least three times as we ate, I've been panicked about where Eva was before I remembered, oh, right, she's with a nice woman who's going to take great care of her. And at the same time...relieved? I love Eva. I love her more than anyone else in the world, and I've never felt that tide of emotion for anything else in my life...but I'm also light right now. As if I'm...free."

  She shook her head. "Wrong word. God, you must think I'm terrible."

  "Not at all," Marco said thoughtfully. "You said that you read about me. Did you read about me coming to the throne?"

  "I did," Briony said, slightly confused by the topic shift.

  "When I was first crowned, I felt as if I was carrying a burden I could never put down. There were what felt like a hundred duties that could only be performed by me; it was very different from the life I had been living until then."

  "Less supermodels?" she asked, blushing when she realized how she sounded.

  He grinned at her. "Yes, actually. I got too busy for fun, and that's what women like that are usually around for. I thought I was going to suffocate under it all. Then one day, as I learned which things would always require my attention, and which things could be allowed to wait for my convenience, it got easier. Soon enough, I was carrying the weight without noticing it as much.