Prince's Pregnant Princess

by Ana Adams

  I’m pregnant.

  There was barely a need for a pregnancy test. She was hardly ever late…and some of the early-morning nausea made too much sense suddenly. She grabbed for a jacket and jeans, tugging them on blindly, and stumbled out of her bedroom into the main area of the apartment.

  It was still quiet at this hour—some of her roommates slept late, but others rose extra early. She was able to slip out unnoticed, almost tripping down the stairs on her way to the ground level. She hurried down the sidewalk, heading for the small pharmacy at the corner. Halfway there she realized she’d forgotten her coin purse, so she groaned and ran back upstairs, legs wobbly as jelly.

  The second attempt fared better, and she breathlessly requested a pregnancy test from the bleary-eyed employee. She paid and stuffed the rectangular box in her pocket and bolted for home, heart hammering between her ears.

  Each step up the staircase confirmed what she already knew: it will be positive. And as she pushed through the door, heading straight for the bathroom and her morning pee, another truth slunk through her: It’s Niccolo’s baby.

  Inside the bathroom, she tore through the packaging, tossing aside the instructions, sitting tense on the toilet with the stick between her legs as she struggled to relax. A trickle finally arrived, hesitant and scared, like the urine itself didn’t want confirmation of this. Once she managed to pee on the stick, she set it aside and cleaned herself up, using every ounce of willpower not to stare at the damn window as it processed.

  She leaned into the corner of the bathroom, clutching onto the striped shower curtain as she waited. Staring at the toilet paper roll, she kept a slow count in her head, trying to give the test its time to figure out her own fate.

  This couldn’t be real. But yet it had to be—they didn’t use a condom either time, so what the hell did she even expect? Regret prickled through her, making her limbs feel leaden. If this was real…should she even tell Niccolo?

  She groaned at the thought. Like there would be any way to hide it from him. Her only option would be to end the pregnancy, or make up some lie about it being someone else’s baby. She swallowed hard, both of those ideas settling strangely into her, making her feel nauseous.

  Enough time had passed. It was time to look. She released the shower curtain and leaned toward the sink, her gut cinching into a tight knot.

  The tiny screen showed a very pink, very vibrant plus sign.

  Georgia’s eyes widened, and she didn’t look away for what felt like an hour.

  Chapter Ten

  When Niccolo arrived at work on Monday morning, Georgia was already in her seat, squinting at the computer screen like maybe everything was written in Arabic.

  “Morning, Georgia.” He didn’t slow as he walked to his office. “Review in five?”

  “Morning, Niccolo. I’ll be there with bells on.”

  He pushed into his office, calmed by the placement of the furniture, the sprawling scarab of Manhattan beyond the windows, the lingering scent of leather and fresh paper. Every morning, he and Georgia reviewed the day’s tasks and deadlines, but only after he’d retrieved his coffee. He shrugged off his jacket and set his briefcase on his desk, then headed back out past her desk. She sat with her head buried in her hands, elbows propped on the desk.

  He slowed. “Are you okay?”

  She jolted, looking up at him guiltily “Yeah, of course. Why?”

  “Just checking.” He wouldn’t add that he could sense the strange, tight air around her like it was an actual piece of clothing she had on. Their working relationship—or friendship, camaraderie, whatever it was—developed at an increasing rate. Maybe by the end of her tenure, he’d be able to read her mind.

  He hummed as he sought out his coffee from the kitchen area, smiling and waving at employees as he strode through the halls. Mondays always felt like a fresh, invigorating start. New heights to reach, new records to break. And it all started with a little bit of coffee.

  He let the coffee steam in the mug as he headed back to the office, already antsy to see Georgia’s smooth, shapely legs crossed in front of his desk, waiting for him. As he rounded the corner into their area, he saw her sitting in the chair in his office. He squashed a ripple of excitement, the little part of him that always perked up and hoped for more when she was in sight.

  He strode to his desk, setting the mug down, sweeping his gaze over her once with a smile. “Excited to start a new week?”

  She nodded, looking down at the papers in her lap. “Of course.”

  He frowned slightly, but she didn’t see it. He unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs as he settled into his seat, rolling back the crisp gray fabric twice. “So. What’s on the agenda for today?”

  Georgia cleared her throat, her auburn hair swept into a pretty low bun at the side of her head. A few artful wisps of hair framed her face, and his chest tightened with the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her.

  Focus, Niccolo.

  “I think the first order of business is that your uncle Bruno is scheduled to arrive today at one p.m.,” Georgia said, crossing something off her paper. “His flight arrives at La Guardia around eleven thirty, and I’ve arranged for the car to pick him up and bring him straight here.”

  Niccolo nodded, steepling his fingers as he listened. “Great. He’ll want to tour the premises, as always, to make sure that everything is on track. Maybe you can show him around this time.” His uncle Bruno came once a year to visit the foundation and published an enormously popular report back in Naples that touted the awesome benefits and successes of Napoli Philanthropy. Bruno was a stickler for tradition and insisted on these yearly reports as part of the accountability to the throne.

  “You have a donor presentation on Friday that you need to start preparing for today,” she went on, checking off another item on her list. “I’ll bring over the file with the figures from last year so we can plug them into the appropriate spots.”

  Niccolo nodded, gaze wandering over the sharp line of her nose, the mature, dark shade of lipstick she’d chosen for today. Something was off about her today, but he didn’t know how to ask her about it. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate, even though he cared.

  Georgia rattled off a few more pressing items for the day while Niccolo took notes. After it was clear she had finished, Niccolo set down his pen.

  “Anything else?”

  She glanced up at him, eyes full of worry. “Why do you ask?”

  “There’s just…something else. I sense it.” He gestured at the air between them, as though this might prompt her.

  She drew a low breath, looking down at her papers again. “I’m pregnant.”

  The words hung in the air, repeating between his ears as he blinked at her. “What?”

  She cleared her throat, crossing her legs. “I just found out this weekend. It’s still new to me.”

  He nodded, moving his papers into distinct piles. “Congratulations.” So that had been why she didn’t take him up on his dinner offer on Friday. She had a boyfriend, or someone in the wings. Maybe she’d had him there the entire time. Jealousy licked through him.

  “Thank you.” She paused, gripping the side of the desk so hard her knuckles turned white. “Niccolo, it’s…”

  “So who’s the lucky man?”

  “You are.”

  He froze in his spot, unable to move under the deafening clatter of the news. He stared at his papers for a few moments, the words swirling like a cyclone in his head. “What?”

  “It’s yours.”

  He creased a brow. “What?”

  “Is that all you can say?”

  He blinked. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I haven’t been with…anyone. Except for you.” Her voice sounded strained.

  He jerked his gaze up to meet hers, and he saw all of the same emotions he felt: confusion, fear, wonderment. “What do you…what are you going to do?”

  Georgia pursed her lips. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  �
��You have a wide range of options,” he said.

  “I’m aware.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, if you choose to…you know…I won’t hold it against you.”

  Her eyes snapped up to his, sharp like a whip. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Niccolo froze, mouth parted. “I-…I’m sorry. I don’t know. This is just…a surprise.”

  “Yeah.” She scoffed. “You’re telling me.”

  “Listen, Georgia, you’re not alone in this.” He slid his hand across the desk, reaching for hers. “I promise you. We’ll figure something out.”

  She kept her eyes on her lap, nodding. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  She sniffed. “I had to. I couldn’t have kept this from you. Not with how we are.”

  Her words resonated intimately inside of him, a slight nod to whatever-it-was between them. Warmth traveled through him, but it dissipated quickly once she stood and headed for the door.

  “Let’s talk about this later,” Niccolo said, watching her leave, another wave of realization crashing over him. She carried his child—or the start of it, at least. This might be his only chance to be a father.

  At age forty, he might do well to make sure she had the baby. This could be his last, reasonable chance…and if it was to be with anyone…well, he’d choose Georgia in a heartbeat. He’d known that since day one.

  Georgia passed through the doorway. He heard her gasp, followed by a “Hello, sir!”

  Niccolo creased a brow, checking his watch. Before he could investigate who she might be talking to, a familiar baritone boomed through the office waiting area.

  “I’m here to see my nephew.”

  Niccolo gripped the arm rests of his seat, realization creeping through him. Uncle Bruno was early—extremely early. How long had he been waiting out there? He sprang to his feet, eager to greet his uncle and assess the damage.

  Bruno strolled through the open doorway, a haughty smile on his face. He bowed slightly, clutching his silver-topped cane in one hand “Here I am, my most excellent nephew.”

  Niccolo relaxed slightly, approaching his uncle with open arms. “Bruno. It’s been so long. How was your trip? You’re very early.”

  “I had the chance to arrive late last night,” he said, tapping his cane against the ground for emphasis. “So I thought I’d choose the full night’s sleep and a bit of a surprise over keeping to our agenda. I hope it’s not much of a bother?”

  “Of course not.” Niccolo ushered him into his office, gesturing toward the seat where Georgia had delivered her news. “I’m so happy to see you. How is our Napoli?”

  “Hot as usual,” Bruno grunted as he sat in the chair, leaning his cane against the desk. “Your mother sends her love.”

  Niccolo smiled tightly. “Excellent. Now, uncle, we have plenty to show you today. I can have Georgia show you around this morning, if you’d like. She—”

  “Is she the pregnant one?”

  Niccolo’s words shriveled in his throat. “Uh…”

  Bruno leaned forward, the haughty smile returning. “Sounded like it was your child.”

  Niccolo cleared his throat, feeling heat creep into his neck. There was the answer to that question. “Uncle, that was a private conversation. I can’t inform you of the details as of yet, because I don’t know them myself.”

  Bruno narrowed his eyes, slapping his hand against the desktop. “Details are irrelevant when it’s Savoy blood we’re talking about.”

  “Uncle—”

  “You know your duty.” Bruno waggled his finger at him like Niccolo was eight years old and caught toying with the backyard chickens. “If there’s a Savoy on the way, you must marry her.”

  Niccolo’s face tightened, and he let his head drop into his hands. Surely Georgia was listening to all of this, horrified, maybe even packing her things to run away now. “I appreciate the reminder. Now, we should really move on to the foundation.”

  “This pertains directly to the foundation,” Bruno said, harrumphing. “How you carry yourself and represent your family has everything to do with this foundation.”

  Niccolo stared at the desk. “You’re right.”

  “I know I am. Now, while I’m here, any other unclaimed children I should know about?”

  He laughed despite himself, the unexpected Bruno jab a welcome relief. “This is the only one.”

  “Good.” Bruno grumbled a little, reaching for his cane. “Now let’s start this tour.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgia’s heart pressed at the back of her throat the entire rest of the work day. Having Uncle Bruno in the mix was a strange addition; she could feel his eyes on her wherever she went, probably sizing her up for the royal fit, or something like that.

  Georgia overheard his ridiculous demand that Niccolo marry her, simply because of the royal blood. The suggestion sent her pulse racing, but not because it seemed preposterous.

  Simply because she hadn’t heard Niccolo’s response, and somewhere deep inside, she wanted this to be the thing that brought them together.

  Once Bruno and his camera crew wrapped up and meandered away, Niccolo called Georgia into his office.

  “Weird day, huh?” He cocked a grin, one that made her knees weak. She went to her regular post in the chair facing his desk.

  “Weird is just the start of it,” she said.

  “Come to my house for dinner.”

  Her brows shot up. “Really?”

  “We should talk. I’ve been thinking about all of this.”

  “Just during work today? Maybe you should take some more time…like…I don’t know, at least a day…”

  “I know what I’d like to propose to you,” Niccolo said.

  The use of the word ‘propose’ made her tingle on the inside. “Okay. Should we go now?”

  “Yes. I’ll call for the driver.” He reached for his phone and Georgia went to her desk to pack up her things. She slung her purse over her shoulder as Niccolo locked up his office. They shared a private smile on the way to the elevator, and there was a pleasant, comfortable silence between them on the ride down.

  Georgia floated like she was in a dream on her way to the Hummer, feeling already like a strange version of a modern-day princess. Not quite royalty, but carrying the bloodline in her body. Tiny cells linking together to form an heir. Her mind spun.

  In the Hummer, Niccolo reached for her hand. The warmth of him reassured her. “What do you feel like eating?” He asked it with so much tenderness that she thought she might reach out and pat her belly, too.

  “Ummm…” She squinted as she thought. “Thai food.”

  They spent the car ride batting around menu options and restaurants choices. By the time the driver delivered them to Niccolo’s towering building, they’d just barely put in the order. Georgia entered alongside him, clasping his hand, this sparkling foyer feeling a lot more like a scene in a movie she’d seen once than a memory.

  Inside the elevator leading up to his penthouse, Niccolo watched her with a burning gaze. He hadn’t tried to kiss or touch her more than grabbing her hand, and her body was desperate for more—already. Like her skin remembered more than her brain how sexy the first ride in this elevator had been.

  Niccolo let them into the penthouse, the wood floor and slate gray décor a welcome sight. She sighed a little, which prompted a grin from Niccolo.

  “Happy to be back?”

  “Your place is so lovely.” She tugged off her black spring jacket, hanging it on the coat rack near his.

  “Not as lovely as you.” He grinned, pushing her at the hips, guiding her toward the set of couches arranged near the wall of windows overlooking Manhattan. Georgia eased onto the couch, slipping off her heels before propping her feet up on the seat.

  Niccolo sat on the other end of the couch, prompting her to place her feet in his lap. She did so cautiously, feeling suddenly exposed. Like this might be too intimate,
too fast.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Niccolo started, his hands immediately going to her nylon-covered legs. She tensed as his hands slid toward her feet. They’d been stuck in heels all day, walked a mile this morning alone, and probably smelled. Her eyes were riveted on his thumbs, which moved to the bottoms of her feet.

  She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came once he started rubbing her feet. Head lolling back, she let a low groan of appreciation. Potential awkward foot smell be damned. This man could touch her feet whenever he wanted.

  Niccolo chuckled. “Maybe I should tell you after the foot rub.”

  “Go on, I’m listening, I swear.” Georgia couldn’t even open her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about the situation. And my feeling is…I hope you choose to have the child.”

  Georgia’s eyes popped open. “I want to.”

  Niccolo relaxed visibly, but his massaging never faltered. “And I want to be involved. Very involved.”

  Georgia watched his large hands working her feet, the veins that popped out along the top. “I think I’d like that too.”

  “As in, marriage and family involved.”

  So Uncle Bruno’s suggestion hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. “Are you only saying that because your uncle told you that you had to?”

  Niccolo’s thumbs stopped. “You heard that?”

  “Oh yeah. It was impossible not to.”

  Niccolo sighed, beginning the massage again. “He has a point. But I’ll be honest with you—I like the idea. A lot. Because it’s you.”

  Georgia watched him for a few moments, blinking back a wave of emotion. “Yeah?”

  “Trust me, I’d have no problem setting up other arrangements, despite what my uncle wants to do with the family traditions. But there’s something here…don’t you think?”

  Georgia stilled her tongue before she leapt to agree immediately. Because she did think that, but maybe it wasn’t wise to play all her cards at once. “I think that you are a lovely man, but I barely know you. Yes, you seem nice for a rich prince, but…don’t we need to know each other better to start a family?”