Prince's Pregnant Princess

by Ana Adams

  “Philanthropy is central to my family’s mission.” He glanced up into her green eyes and his stomach clenched. “As the royal family of Napoli, we are committed to two primary areas. Do you know what they are?”

  Her mouth fell open. It was cruel to turn the tables this way, but there was no other way to temper his attraction to her.

  “I-I…I’m not sure, to be honest.”

  “Hm.” He pushed back from his desk and strolled to the wall-to-wall window overlooking Manhattan. To the right, the Hudson River glittered in the bright morning sun. The metallic monstrosities of the neighboring skyscrapers were a reassuring sight, reminding him of orderliness and productivity. As CEO of his family’s empire, he did what he could to keep his world running as efficiently as possible…which usually required taskmaster-grade employees, a rigid workout schedule, and plenty of fucking.

  Except not with the new girl. Definitely not with her. She’s an employee—that line doesn’t get crossed.

  “Come here.” He turned, waving her over to join him in the view. She sprang up from the chair and scurried to his side, wide eyes turned up to him.

  “Look at this.” He nodded toward the cityscape. “Are you from Manhattan?”

  “Brooklyn, sir. I mean, Niccolo.”

  “Napoli Philanthropy has a hand in almost all of the buildings you see in front of you. We affect two thirds of Manhattan.” He let his words hang in the air, pleased by the gravity in them. “It’s because we deal primarily in education and entrepreneurship. This was the question you didn’t know how to answer.”

  “Right,” she responded.

  He smiled out over the city, feeling a lot like a king, even though he was merely a prince. The heat of her at his side sank into him, making his mind cloudy. He fought to hang on to his train of thought. “This organization is simply a vehicle for the wide variety of charitable work we do. We penetrate various layers of society.” Penetrate. The word reverberated through his head. Poor choice of words.

  Georgia nodded, crossing her arms as she surveyed the city. “You have a nice view up here.”

  He looked down at her, gaze skating over the hint of cleavage in her tight top. He truly had the best view. “Thank you. It’s important to remember the scope of our efforts. This office helps me achieve that.”

  Silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of his heart throbbing between his ears. He turned to her, sweeping out a hand to gesture to a landmark, at the same time she turned to him. His hand grazed the lush swell of her breast, causing his breath to shrivel in his throat.

  “Oh,” she said, cheeks flushing. He retracted his hand, clearing his throat. He should apologize, but he couldn’t be sorry for it.

  “Pardon,” he said, his hand seeking the low curve of her back. Niccolo, what are you doing? He never touched his employees—especially not after accidentally groping them. “That wasn’t…I…”

  A grin flitted across her face, and he couldn’t help but think that blush was somehow glad. He yanked his hand away, off of her, clasping his other wrist behind his back.

  “Is this the standard greeting for new employees?” She said with a laugh, patting at her auburn hair that had been pulled back into a tight bun. “I have all my parts, if that’s what you were wondering.”

  Mortification slid through him, tempered with intrigue. He liked how she acknowledged it—even more how she batted it back at him. God, if only they were anywhere else—if only she were anybody else. But this was work, and he had to keep her at arm’s length.

  His phone rang, a divine distraction. He turned, almost lunging for the phone on his desk, eager for the interruption, eager to push this woman out of his office. He’d known her for ten minutes and already he could see that she was forward, dedicated, and entirely too tempting. She needed to leave now, before he lost his head any more.

  “Hello?” His voice came out as an irritated bark. The smooth voice of the company accountant greeted him, and his entire body sagged with relief. A legitimate work concern, one that he could lose himself in.

  Without looking Georgia in the eye, he pointed to the door. “Go.”

  He pressed the phone to his ear, feigning intense concentration, but he didn’t miss her shell-shocked surprise. She paused before scooping up her purse, then watched him for a moment. He pointed at the door again, furrowing his brow.

  “Do I need to repeat it a second time? Are you deaf?”

  Her mouth thinned to a line and she strutted toward the door, that perfect round ass snagging his attention on her way out. When the door shut behind her, he realized he hadn’t heard a word the accountant said.

  Oh well—it was better than spending even a second more in the office alone with her. Because if he knew anything about his own patterns and traits, it was that this new hire needed to be kept as far away from him as possible. She was too beautiful, too captivating—and he didn’t trust himself not to break the rule he’d set for himself since day one.

  Never mix business and pleasure.

  Chapter Three

  Georgia shut the door behind her on her way out of Niccolo’s office, but she wished she’d slammed it. He’d flipped from inviting and warm to distant and frigid in a millisecond, and that sort of erratic behavior spelled all sorts of bad omens for their working relationship.

  It also reminded her she wouldn’t mind if it was way more than a working relationship. Just once. Just to see what lay under that crisp navy blue suit.

  Martha poked her head into the waiting room in front of Niccolo’s office, eyebrows lifted. “How did it go?”

  Georgia drew her brows together, shaking her head. “I thought you said he was confident in my abilities.”

  “He is, very much so.”

  “Then I don’t think I like him.”

  Martha’s eyes widened. “Oh, you can’t be serious!”

  “He was so rude to me. I think he doesn’t like me.”

  “What happened, dear?” She led her toward her desk, which was in an open area outside the waiting lounge. “Tell me, maybe I can explain.”

  She sighed, slouching into the chair in front of Martha’s desk. What poor form to complain about a boss within the first half hour of knowing him. “We were talking about the organization, and I felt like it was going well. Then he got a call and basically shoved me out of the office. He even accused me of being deaf.”

  Martha’s brow creased. “That doesn’t sound like Niccolo at all.”

  “Is he normally rude to employees?”

  “Darling, he’s one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met.” Martha tutted, motioning to someone as they walked down the hallway. “Here, let’s ask Adam.”

  Georgia straightened her posture in the chair; Niccolo had left her on edge about her presentation. Maybe she was putting off novice vibes. She had to work double-time now to prove that she was a capable new employee.

  A younger man walked up to the desk with a goofy grin, his eyes flitting between Martha and Georgia. “Hey, Martha. Is this the new Martha?”

  Georgia cracked a grin.

  “Adam, dear, I’d like you to meet Georgia.” Martha swept her hand toward her, and Adam stepped forward to offer a handshake.

  Georgia received it, smiling primly. “Hello, Adam. It’s nice to meet you. I’m the new Martha, I guess.”

  Adam laughed. “We’re sad to see her go, but if she hand-selected you, we’ll have a shot at recuperating.”

  Relief trickled through her. So maybe everyone wouldn’t see her as some inexperienced high school grad. ‘Thank you for saying that.”

  “Adam, can you tell us what it’s been like to work with Niccolo?” Martha tilted her head to look at him. “Just so Georgia here has an idea.”

  Adam sighed appreciatively, shaking his head. “You won’t find a better boss. He’s been more of a mentor to me, really. You’re going to have a great time working for him. Is this your first day?”

  Georgia nodded, confusion knitting a tight kn
ot in her gut. Why had Niccolo apparently reserved his ire for her? “Sure is. Time to learn the ropes.”

  “You’re going to love it, I promise. Welcome aboard.” Adam grinned and headed down the hallway.

  “He’s an administrative assistant,” Martha said. “Sweet boy. Now, I assure you—Niccolo is no meanie. He’s probably just a little tense with the transition. The man doesn’t take to change very well. Promise me you’ll stick it out and see I was right all along?”

  Georgia bit her lip, nodding. “Of course. I’m still thrilled to have the job—I’d never walk away from something like this.” Especially not with how much he’ll be paying me.

  Manhattan was so expensive that sometimes she wondered if a psych eval should precipitate trying to rent there. At her last job, she’d been able to only dream of having an apartment with less than five other roommates. But with this new gig, she’d be able to afford her own place if she wanted it. Probably no bigger than a closet—but still. All her own, no psych eval required. Just keep your eye on the prize.

  Martha invited her to sit on the other side of the desk with her while she ran through some of the basics of the computer system. It took a full hour just to get through the donor database. After that, they moved to the intricate email system, with its ten different types of flags for level of importance and urgency, which Niccolo had implemented himself based on his preferences.

  Somewhere around hour two, Niccolo strode out of his office, a file folder in his hand. He paused in front of the desk, jaw clenching as his gaze swept over the two of them behind the desk. Georgia’s stomach knotted at the same time her heart clenched. He was too damn sexy—but that gaze of his told her he still had a problem with her.

  “Orientation?” He tossed the folder on the desk, his eyes leaving hot trails over her skin.

  “She’s catching on like an old pro,” Martha beamed.

  “Hm.” Niccolo buried his hands in his pockets, rattling around some change, his gaze sizzling over her. Then he turned and stalked down the hallway.

  “He does seem tense,” Martha mused, turning back to the computer. “Very abnormal for him.”

  The pair chugged along through orientation, stopping for lunch in the small cafeteria, where Martha gave her a tour of the rest of the floor. After being introduced to the standing desk workroom, the yoga room, the silent work area, the group desk area, and a variety of conference rooms, Georgia wasn’t sure there could be any other style of room for a company.

  Lunch whizzed by, complete with a fresh fruit selection delivered daily by an outside company, and then they were back to work. Niccolo made infrequent appearances as he stalked past the desk on his way to or from the office. He didn’t have any more rude outbursts, but neither did he engage Georgia or attempt to get to know her.

  Not that you should expect that—he’s just your boss.

  By the time five p.m. rolled around, Martha made quick work of packing up her things. “Dearie, I have to get a move on to get home for my granddaughter’s play tonight. But hang around and keep poking at the programs you’ve learned if you want. Write down any questions and we’ll cover them tomorrow.”

  Georgia smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Martha. I will. Have a good night.”

  Martha blew a kiss and hurried out of the office, leaving her in a bloated silence in the reception area. Other employees streamed out down the hallway, until the office was left in relative quiet.

  This moment of silence was nice—it helped her imagine what it might be like to finally be Niccolo’s assistant. To see what it felt like to rule this roost.

  Niccolo’s door opened and he strode out, pausing when his gaze landed on her.

  “Where’s Martha?”

  “She just left.”

  Niccolo’s gaze swept around the reception area. “What are you doing here still?”

  “Just looking over what I learned today.” She swallowed hard. “If that’s okay.”

  He stared at her for a moment then softened, like a spell had been broken. “Of course. Would you like to come into my office?”

  Her mouth parted with indecision. “Well…”

  “More orientation. Informally.” He nodded toward his door. “Come on.”

  She stood and followed him, heart throbbing between her ears. He left a trail of seduction in his wake; just following behind him clouded her senses, made it hard to think straight. How are you going to survive a career working with this man? She shut the door behind her out of habit, then wandered toward the chair she’d sat in earlier that day.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured toward the chair and headed for a small cabinet in the corner. Soft music wafted through the room: classic jazz. He took out two shot glasses from the cabinet and poured something from an unmarked bottle into each.

  Returning to his desk, he offered her a shot glass. She jerked her gaze up to his, eyebrows knitted together. “What is it?”

  “A peace offering.” He set it down on the edge of the desk and sat in the chair next to her. “Martha told me you’d found me rude. And the truth is, I was. So I’m sorry.” He raised his shot glass in the air, encouraging her to do the same. “You’re my employee now, and I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  His words softened her, and she reached for the shot glass. She clinked hesitantly with him, watching as he tossed it back in one gulp. He grimaced, gesturing toward hers. “Do it fast.”

  She tipped the amber liquid into her throat, both invigorated and repulsed by the bright burn of it going down. She pulled a face, a shiver wracking her body.

  “Blech. What was that?”

  “Very special bourbon. A gift from a friend.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, crossing his ankle over his knee. “Did you like it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “So you’d say no to a second one?”

  She paused, gaze skating up and down his body. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her first day wrapping up. Maybe this guy held way more secrets than she’d counted on. “Not necessarily.”

  He grinned, scooping up their shot glasses to return for more.

  “Do you normally drink right after work?” She cleared her throat, trying to relax into the seat, but finding it difficult to efface the idea that he saw her as a lazy noob if she slouched. She still had to prove herself, even when alcohol was involved.

  “Absolutely not.” He glanced back at her, something unknown crossing his face. “But today was a special occasion. New employee—new chapter.”

  “Martha said you hate change.”

  “I do.” He laughed a little, returning with shot glasses brimming with bourbon. “Hence the alcohol.”

  She nodded. “I think that makes sense.”

  They clinked glasses and took the shot together. Niccolo shuddered this time. “Good stuff.”

  She dabbed at the corners of her mouth, liking the furtive lick of alcohol through her veins. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”

  “I owed you. How was your first day?”

  “Busy, and eventful. I’m learning a lot. Martha is a great teacher.”

  “Do you think you’ll like it?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Of course—I’m a PA. This is what I do. I love my job, wherever I go.”

  He nodded, as though this answered a question he hadn’t yet voiced. A comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only the occasional bleating of a jazz sax.

  Niccolo stood, sauntering toward the far wall of windows. He looked out over the city, his expression pensive. She remembered what he’d said about the orderliness and productivity of the skyline—maybe that’s what he was thinking about again.

  “Do you love to watch the city?” She stood, finding her balance a bit more wobbly than normal. She went to his side, studying his face as opposed to the city.

  “I do. More than a lot of things.”

  She grinned, letting her gaze follow his. “More than working?”

  “No, my job comes first. Watching t
he city is second. Either city really, but especially this one.”

  “What do you mean, ‘either city’?”

  “New York City, or Naples. I travel frequently between the two cities.” He smiled wistfully, looking over at her, their gazes meeting for a scorching moment. Georgia’s breath evaporated in her throat. That sort of feeling wasn’t…normal, when looking at a boss. Or anyone, really. There was something extra in their glances. Rimmed with tension; a thinly veiled desire to rip his clothes off and press her mouth to his.

  Georgia, what the hell is your problem?

  Niccolo ripped his eyes away and turned for the cabinet again. “Another shot?”

  “Yes.” This was very unlike her, but more alcohol seemed wise. Maybe it would help calm her hopping nerves. Or the way her fingers twitched at the thought of touching him.

  “I must reiterate—this is not normal.” He filled the two shot glasses and brought them over. “I do feel this is a special occasion, however.”

  “The apology, or my hiring?”

  Niccolo raised his glass, smirking. “Both.”

  They clinked and tossed back the third shot.

  Georgia shivered. “It gets easier the more you drink.”

  “That’s the dangerous part,” he said, leaning against the window. He crossed his ankles, eyeing her like he knew a secret. “So I hear your last boss sent you off crying. Should I be concerned?”

  “Only about falling in love with me.” Her eyes widened once the words popped out of her mouth—she certainly hadn’t meant it like real love, but under that icy blue gaze of his, everything had a certain edge to it.

  His jaw flexed and he watched her a moment longer than necessary, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh?”

  She giggled, sensing the blush crossing her cheeks. Covering her face with a hand, she could do nothing but succumb to the embarrassment. God, she was half-drunk already. So much for holding her liquor with the new boss.

  “You look like someone who leaves a trail of broken hearts.” He sauntered closer, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knee brushed hers as he settled into place.