His Pregnant Royal Bride

by Amy Ruttan

  After a short ride, they disembarked.

  “The bistro isn’t far from here. It’s right across the Gran Viale Santa Maria Elisabetta.”

  “Good, I’m starving.”

  Dante grinned and took her hand. Just as he’d done in Oahu when they were walking along the beach at sunset. It felt so good, her hand in his large strong one.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked, shocked that he was holding her hand. She liked it, but she was surprised by it. He’d slung his arm through hers before, but holding her hand was more intimate. And she had to admit she liked it. It made her feel safe.

  “For any press lurking around. You are my wife after all,” he said, explaining it, and though it made perfect sense she was a bit disappointed in the answer.

  What did you expect?

  She didn’t know and she didn’t know why it bothered her so much.

  The little bistro faced the Adriatic side and the warm breeze coming off the water was heavenly. The bistro was filled with tourists from the nearby hotels, but the maître d’ found them a table out on the patio underneath lemon trees that were strewn with twinkle lights.

  It was perfect and the angel-hair pasta with sun-dried tomatoes was heavenly.

  It was delicious.

  “You know, you make funny noises when you eat,” Dante teased.

  “What?”

  He grinned, his eyes twinkling as he mimicked the noises she was making, noises that sounded decidedly naughty.

  “Making those noises is a compliment.”

  “Sì, I know.” He winked at her, grinning.

  Her pulse began to race and she thought about the last time he’d looked at her like that and where it had led to.

  “Have you been to this bistro a lot?” It was a foolish topic change, but she didn’t want to start thinking about the last time they had shared a meal or a drink together so close to a beach.

  “Sì, I have been here a few times, but never with a woman before if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “No, I’m not.” She looked away, knowing that she was blushing.

  He winked and took a drink of his red wine, which looked so good, but she couldn’t have a drop.

  “Oh, I have this for you.” Dante reached into his jacket pocket and slid a paper toward her. “It’s in English. It’s our marriage contract. It outlines our fifty-fifty custody, stipend for living and money for our child. As well as schooling.”

  Shay nodded as she read it over. The contract benefited her and their child. There was nothing hidden in the contract. It was straightforward.

  “Also your visa, cara, is taken care of. My attorney arranged for it to be extended indefinitely.”

  “Indefinitely? I thought our marriage was only for a year.”

  “We’re putting on a show, cara.”

  “Right. Good.” She tensed. It all seemed too easy. Why was she uneasy about it?

  Because you’re having a hard time trusting him.

  She didn’t know how to trust.

  Dante is not your father. He won’t abandon our baby.

  Shay signed the contract, although her stomach was doing flip-flops.

  “Here you go,” she said, sliding it back toward him. His fingers brushed hers and sent a jolt of electricity through her.

  “Grazie, cara.” He took the contract and placed it in his jacket. “Are you okay? Is it Braxton Hicks again?”

  “No, I’m just tired.” She rubbed her belly and the baby kicked. Hard, for the first time. She smiled, the kick reminding her why she was doing this.

  “Is everything okay?” Dante asked again.

  “Yes. I think everything is going to be okay.”

  Dante smiled and then paid the bill. He stood, holding out his hand. “Come, let’s go.”

  Shay took his hand and he led her down to the beach. Her pulse began to race, thundering in her ears. She desired him. She still wanted him, even though she couldn’t have him.

  Dante affected her so.

  They walked along the boardwalk instead of the sandy beach. It was a beautiful night. They didn’t say much, but she wasn’t worried about the silence between them. It was nice not talking and just enjoying the evening.

  “It’s a gorgeous night,” Dante said.

  “It is.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for being there for me today.”

  “It’s my job. That’s our baby you’re carrying, cara.” And the way his dark eyes glowed she forgot for a moment who she was with and how this was only temporary.

  She nodded. “Still, I appreciate it. I’m not used to having help.”

  “I understand.” He stopped and tilted her chin so she was staring deep into his dark eyes. “I will be there. I’m here to help you. You can rely on me, cara.”

  And though she wanted to believe him, she was having a hard time letting her heart do just that.

  * * *

  They sped along the winding road that was lined with tall cypress trees. Shay enjoyed the drive in Dante’s luxury car. She hadn’t even known that he owned a car, until they’d got to the mainland from the ferry and he’d walked her to a car park where the red two-seater was waiting. And she had to say it was a beautiful sports car.

  Dante didn’t say much on the drive, but she could tell that he was visibly relaxing. He wasn’t as tense as he was when he was in Venice. He was smiling to himself the closer they got to Arezzo. Dante’s villa was on the outskirts of the city, lying in a valley below the city, but far enough away to enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside.

  “You know,” she said, “this is a very nice sports car.”

  “Grazie.” He grinned at her briefly.

  “Not very practical, though,” she teased.

  “What does practicality have to do with it?” he asked.

  “There’s no backseat—where are we going to put the baby?”

  “We?” he asked.

  “You.” She cursed under her breath for making that assumption. This wasn’t a real marriage. There would be no we at all in the near future. Just you or I.

  “I can get another car for when I have the baby.” He tensed, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

  Shay wanted to change the subject. Obviously a touchy matter for him and it annoyed her that she got so upset about it. She knew what she was getting into, but she was so sensitive lately. One moment she could be fine and then next in tears.

  “Why don’t you tell me a bit about the vineyard?”

  “It’s been in my mother’s family since the seventeen-hundreds.”

  “Everything in your family is so ancient.”

  He grinned. “Sì, you should’ve met my Zia Sophia. She was very ancient.”

  Shay laughed. “I don’t think any woman appreciates being referred to as ancient.”

  “She deserved the title. Enzo and I would make bets on how old she actually was when we were young, because every year she seemed to get younger. I swear her last birthday she was claiming she was younger than me and I was twenty when she passed.”

  “So how old was she?” Shay asked.

  “No one knows. There were no birth certificates, but the doctors suspected that she was over a hundred.”

  “I take it you didn’t like her?”

  “I adored her. Even if she hid her age. She was young at heart.”

  “Was she royalty too?”

  He shook his head. “No, she was part of my mother’s family. I think she was my grandfather’s aunt, as he referred to her as Zia Sophia too. What about you? Any elders in your family.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he asked, confused.

  “Well, there probably was. I wouldn’t know. My parents were quite young when they got m
arried and...let’s just say their families were extremely religious and didn’t approve of a child conceived out of wedlock. My mother was disowned and my father...” She couldn’t finish that sentence.

  “Sì? Your father...?”

  Abandoned me.

  “My father didn’t talk about his family. All I know is the name is Acadian and most of my, I guess, blood relations are in New Orleans, but they didn’t want anything to do with us.”

  Dante frowned. “That’s terrible.”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  “Still, not to know where you come from...”

  “I know where I come from. I’m from New Orleans, Louisiana. That’s where I’m from.” She sighed. She didn’t really want to talk about the fact she knew exactly who her family was; she’d seen them. Her mother’s parents and siblings. They were a family of wealth and worth in the Garden District.

  And they’d let Shay’s mother suffer. They’d let her live in poverty.

  And when her mother had died, none of them had come to the funeral. None of them had acknowledged Shay’s existence. Frankly, she was better off without them. She’d made do without the traditional family for a long time.

  Her baby wouldn’t have a traditional family either, but at least he or she would have two parents who cared about them. Two parents who would give him or her all they needed.

  Does Dante care?

  She wasn’t sure. He’d seemed concerned when she’d fainted, fascinated when he’d seen the baby on-screen and relieved when the baby had been deemed well, but she didn’t know if it was because of a sense of duty or because he genuinely cared about the baby. He said he wanted to be a father. She still didn’t know what was in it for him. He didn’t touch her belly, didn’t plan for the baby or talk about her pregnancy, other than insisting she marry him.

  Yet he was always concerned about her getting her rest, feeding her, making sure she took care of herself. He was taking care of her now in a way no one had before.

  That meant he cared, right?

  “Ah, we’re almost there,” Dante announced as they turned off the main road, down a small dirt road that went through a small village. “It won’t be long now.”

  “Oh, good,” Shay said. And she enjoyed the sights of the small village as Dante slowly drove through, the dirt road giving way to a cobbled stone street. They went over a narrow stone bridge suspended over a gorge, a river tripping over rocks as it wound its way down the hill the village was on.

  As they rounded a small square featuring a tall bell tower on the church, the dirt road dipped again into a valley. And when they turned the corner Shay gasped at the sight of acres of vineyards, stretching as far as the eye could see.

  “Bellissimo, isn’t it?” Dante asked, the pride evident in his voice.

  “Sì,” Shay said happily.

  He turned up a long dusty drive. The name over the gate they drove under read Bellezza Addolorata.

  “What does that name mean?” Shay asked.

  “It’s the name of the wine this vineyard produces. Sorrowful Beauty.”

  She cocked her eyebrows. “Ooh. Sounds wonderful.”

  “Sì, when you have the baby, we’ll celebrate with a wine I’ve been saving for a special occasion. One my grandfather laid down.”

  “I look forward to that.”

  Dante parked in front of the house. When he opened the door to climb out, an older couple came out, smiling. Shay almost wondered if they were his grandparents, but by the looks of them they were too young. She got out of the car as Dante was embracing the couple.

  He then turned, grinning, and gestured to her. “Mia moglie—Shay.”

  The woman shouted with happiness and then rushed her. Taking her in her arms and kissing her, while who Shay could only assume was her husband grinned, his hands thrust deep into his pockets.

  Shay was bowled over by the woman clinging to her, saying things Shay could not understand but could only interpret as happiness.

  “Who is this?” she asked, smiling back at the woman, who had finally let her go.

  “This is Zia Serena and Zio Guillermo. Not relatives, but they have worked with my grandfather their entire lives. They’re caretakers of the vineyard. Zia Serena took care of my grandmother after my grandfather died. They treat me a bit like a son, since they don’t have children of their own.”

  Zia Serena nodded and then motioned to Guillermo as they marched back into the house.

  “Well, the villa is big enough for them to live here.”

  “They don’t live here. They own a house on the other side of the property. I called them and let them know we were coming. Zia Serena made sure the house was stocked. She’s made lunch.” Dante grinned. “We’ll get you fed, and then you can rest in our room while I go inspect the vineyards with Zio.”

  Shay’s stomach did a flip-flop. “Our room?”

  He turned around. “Of course. We’re married and Zia won’t understand that ours is just a marriage of convenience. She’s only prepped one room. There’s a couch in the room. I can sleep there.”

  Her pulse pounded in her ears at the thought of sharing a room with him.

  Even if he was sleeping on the couch.

  She was apprehensive, but honestly she had no one else to blame but herself. She’d decided to sleep with him that night five months ago and she’d agreed to the marriage of convenience.

  * * *

  Dante had forgotten how much he loved sitting around his late grandmother’s rough-hewn wooden table in her kitchen. Even though his grandmother had died a few years ago, he could still feel her presence in the brick walls and could still see her rattling the copper pots that swung on the ceiling in the gentle breeze wafting in through the open back door to the garden.

  Zia Serena had prepared a light lunch, with a Caprese salad and fresh-baked bread. There was espresso and biscotti. Zia Serena didn’t speak a lot of English, but she knew enough to tell Shay to eat and a few stories about Dante when he was young.

  Much to Dante’s chagrin and Shay’s delight.

  Once they were done with their food, Zia Serena insisted on cleaning up. Dante made sure that Shay was settled into bed with strict instructions to nap, before he followed Zio Guillermo out the back door and down into the vineyards.

  “You’ve been gone too long,” Guillermo remarked.

  “I’m a surgeon. I’ve been busy.”

  Guillermo just harrumphed and then stopped to examine a leaf. “It’s good you got married. Your grandfather would be proud.”

  Dante’s stomach knotted when Guillermo mentioned his grandfather.

  Would his grandfather be proud of the fact he’d got married only to legitimize the child and keep the land? Essentially his marriage was a sham.

  He didn’t think his grandfather would be so proud about that. However, the fact Dante was thinking of his child, willing to do whatever to properly raise his child, would make his grandfather proud.

  His grandparents had loved each other. When he’d spent summers here, he could see the love between the two of them. Something his parents had never had. Although Dante was sure that his mother had loved his father at some point.

  “You know, there were some men here last month with your father,” Guillermo said with disdain. Dante knew Serena and Guillermo didn’t think much of the man who’d broken his mother’s heart. The royal title and status did not impress Serena or Guillermo one bit.

  “Oh, yes?” Dante inquired. “What were they here for?”

  But deep down he knew.

  They were eyeing up the land to sell when Dante’s thirty-fifth birthday came at the end of spring and the trust slipped into his father’s hands. Thankfully, the marriage put a stop to that, and once the baby was born, then it would all transfer to Dan
te. And Dante knew that his father was not at all pleased about the prospect.

  “Your father was going to sell this vineyard, sì?’

  Dante nodded. “They came to the Lido villa too, Zio. I sent them away.”

  And he had. He’d chased them off.

  His father had no right to send out Realtors to his property, even if time was running out for Dante to wed and have a child.

  Guillermo chuckled and then clapped Dante on the shoulder. “I would’ve liked to have seen you chase them away. I would’ve liked to have seen your father’s expression.”

  “He wasn’t with them.”

  His father knew better than to come near Dante.

  Dante had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he wanted nothing to do with him.

  His father had done enough damage over the years, lying to them, breaking promises.

  Guillermo spat on the ground. “He’s a coward.”

  “Sì. I couldn’t agree with you more.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “Show me the rest of the vines you were worried about so we can figure out what’s going on.”

  Guillermo nodded and kept walking on.

  Dante trailed behind him, taking it all in, trying to remember everything his grandfather had taught him about the delicate art of winemaking. He glanced back up at the house and saw Shay standing on the terrace in a white summer dress. His heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t looking at him; her eyes were closed and her face was tilted up toward the late-afternoon sun. There was a smile on her face and the wind blew back her short blonde locks.

  He could see the swell in her belly, the perfect roundness, and his heart swelled with pride. When he’d seen his baby for the first time on the ultrasound, he’d realized that this was more complicated than a simple marriage of convenience.

  He liked things simple. Cut and dried, but this was more. Shay was carrying his child.

  His child.

  She was more than a wife on paper. Inside her was a piece of him.

  It wasn’t just him alone anymore.

  That was his baby inside. The fact that Shay was carrying his flesh and blood made him desire her all the more.

  His. Yet he was afraid to think possessively over the baby. To reach out and feel the kicks.