The Prince's Secret Baby (A Baby for the Prince Book 1)

by Holly Rayner

  So, she gently kissed him again, smiled, and let him lead her back to the car.

  Chapter 11

  Raffaele

  The first thought Raffaele had on waking was about Maggie. Their evening together had been magical and all he wanted to do was see her again.

  There was as knock on the outer door, followed by his secretary and a porter carrying a large tray with coffee and pastries.

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” Albert called from the other room.

  Raffaele sighed and rolled out of bed. Even on his birthday, he had responsibilities to take care of, so his pleasant thoughts about the lovely chef would have to wait. He quickly dressed and went into the sitting room.

  Albert looked up with a pleasant smile.

  “Happy birthday, sir.” He handed Raffaele a cup of coffee.

  Raffaele nodded. “Thank you, Albert.”

  He sat at the table and looked at the pile of cards on the table next to the tray of pastries. Raffaele picked one up and studied it.

  Albert looked pointedly at the pile.

  “I thought you might look over some of the more personal cards over breakfast. You have more official greetings and a few things from the public to look at later.”

  Raffaele opened one of the cards and smiled. It was from his sister, and although the card itself was proper, the message she had written on the inside would no doubt make their parents roll their eyes. He loved it.

  “Your guests begin arriving in a few hours. Your mother has asked that you join her for a ride this morning, and your uncle requested a few minutes of your time after lunch.”

  “Will you tell my mother that I’ll be down shortly, and my uncle that I’m available at his convenience?”

  Albert nodded and left the room. Raffaele continued to flip through the cards and notes while eating breakfast. He didn’t want to make his mother wait, so he quickly finished the coffee and food, and changed into riding clothes.

  The morning went by quickly. Because of the elaborate dinner later, lunch was casual and light. Raffaele grabbed a quick bite, then went to meet with his uncle.

  King Filippo wished him a happy birthday and then reiterated what his father had told him a few days before; Raffaele assured his uncle that he was ready to serve in the Spiaggian military. He ran into his aunt on his way out and she hugged him and made him promise to save her a dance at the party.

  Guests were starting to arrive, and Raffaele knew he only had a few minutes before he had to change clothes again and start circulating among the family and friends attending his party.

  Raffaele ducked into the kitchen and found his favorite chef studying a platter of mini fruit tarts. He cleared his throat, not wanting to startle her. When she looked up, her face lit up in a smile and he couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Do you have a moment?” he asked.

  “Of course! But first…” She looked slyly off to the one side, then the other, like she was checking to see if anyone was watching, then grabbed his hand and tugged him toward a little alcove.

  Raffaele went along with her, not sure what she was doing, but willing to follow her anywhere. When she got to the alcove, she stopped suddenly and turned around before he could see inside.

  “Hang on. Close your eyes.” He raised in eyebrows in question and Maggie grinned. “Trust me. I won’t let you fall.”

  Hearing his own words from her, Raffaele couldn’t resist. He closed his eyes and Maggie took his hand again, leading him forward.

  She stopped carefully, and without letting go of his hand said, “Okay. Open your eyes.”

  In front of him was a stunning cake. The square layers alternated between dark blue and white, and around the white layers ran horizontal solid stripes in a lighter blue and gold, the colors of Spiaggi’s flag. There was a tiny pattern stamped in gold across the dark blue layers, and looking closely, Raffaele realized that the pattern was his monogram.

  A classy white candle in the shape of the number thirty perched on top of the cake, standing out against the dark blue, and the base of the cake was covered in a ring of white blossoms. Leaning in again, Raffaele saw that the blossoms were Spiaggi’s national flower, some real, and some made out of sugar.

  He bent down and looked closer at the blossoms, seeing bits of color tucked in among the white. He almost gasped as he realized the bits of color were tiny shapes: a horse, a seashell, a Mardi Gras mask, a book, a car. He recognized each shape as something that was important to him.

  Raffaele looked at Maggie in amazement and she said, “I wanted you to see it first, without the crowd.” He continued to stare at her, not able to speak, so she added, “I know the cake has to be formal, but I wanted there to be something of you in it.”

  Raffaele finally said, “How did you…” but he couldn’t finish the question.

  Maggie smiled. “I asked Chef Luis if it would be okay when we planned the cake. He got your mother’s approval and gave me a list of things I could include. My pastry chefs at BienVille made the pieces and I carried them over to add here.”

  She looked at him shyly. “The Mardi Gras mask is from me.”

  Raffaele pulled her into an intense embrace. He felt like if he didn’t hold onto her, he might fall down. Maggie tightened her arms around him and he reveled in the feeling of holding her in his arms.

  “Thank you,” Raffaele whispered, not sure he trusted his voice. “It’s incredible.”

  He held Maggie close and marveled that she’d made something so personal and so perfect for him. He knew this was more than just her being a professional chef and wanting to do a good job. This was a gift.

  Raffaele stepped back but kept her hands in his. “You’ll be there when they bring the cake out, right?”

  Maggie shook her head. “They’re planning that during the dancing.”

  Raffaele gave her a look and said in his best royal commanding tone, “You’re joining us for the dancing.”

  Maggie laughed. “I’d love to, Your Highness, but chef whites are not appropriate ball attire.”

  Raffaele gave her a rakish smile.

  “You do know I’m a prince, right?” He leaned close and playfully whispered in her ear, “Remember, I have a fairy godmother on staff.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes, but grinned.

  “Does that mean I get to ride in a pumpkin?”

  Raffaele laughed. “No, it means there’s a dress and everything else you need waiting for you in your room.”

  “Raffa, you didn’t have to…”

  He gave her a look. “I know that. I wanted to. This night is yours as much as it is mine, and I want you to enjoy it. And I want to dance with you.”

  Maggie studied him and nodded.

  “As soon as I can, I’ll change and join the party. I don’t want to just cook and run. Your staff has worked so hard; I’m doing something a little special for them, too, as thanks for their help making this meal possible.”

  Raffaele looked at her, and tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. This woman constantly amazed him. She was kind and generous, and Raffaele couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

  He heard her name being called from the main kitchen, so he quickly brushed a kiss across her forehead.

  “Go, chef. I’ll see you after dinner.”

  Maggie squeezed his hands and left him alone with his cake. Raffaele took another look at it, knowing that even with everything he’d ever been given, no one had ever done something quite like this for him.

  The meal, of course, was exquisite. Maggie outdid herself, and everything from the tiny amuse-bouche at the beginning of the meal to the last course was perfect. Raffaele sat between his uncle and his mother, with his father on the other side of his aunt, who sat next to King Filippo.

  Between courses, Raffaele’s family and friends offered toasts to his health and happiness. He stood for each, acknowledging each person with gratitude and grace.

  At the end of the meal, Raffaele’s uncle said, �
�If you’d like to do so, now would be a good time for you to make a short speech, Raffaele.”

  Although it was phrased gently, Raffaele knew that his uncle was telling him to speak to the crowd about his upcoming military service.

  His father glanced at him from down the table and nodded. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  With that, Raffaele knew he didn’t have a choice. He wished Maggie were in the room so he could thank her as part of his speech, but he assumed she would be getting changed since dinner was finished. He stood with his wine glass and waited for the room to quiet.

  “My friends and family, thank you. Your presence means the world to me and I’m delighted to celebrate this milestone birthday with all of you. So many nice things have been said about me tonight—” Raffaele paused and gave the crowd a teasing grin, “and if you’d like to continue saying them, I’ll be happy to drink to each and every one of them.”

  The crowd laughed. Even his father laughed, though he shook his head a little.

  “Seriously,” Raffaele continued, “I am honored at your presence. I also want to thank my parents for their support and love.”

  He leaned down and kissed his mother on the cheek and gave his father a warm look.

  “I know how lucky I am to be part of this family and what a privilege it is to serve this great country.”

  Raffaele turned to his uncle and lifted his glass slightly as he ended the sentence, and his uncle returned the salute. Raffaele noticed his father giving him a pointed look, and he sighed internally, but decided now was as good a time as any.

  “I am also honored that I will soon have the opportunity to serve our country more directly, as I intend to fulfill my military service this year. I look forward to supporting Spiaggi’s critical role as an international partner.”

  The crowd applauded and talk buzzed at this revelation, and as Raffaele looked over, he saw that his father and uncle were both giving him approving looks as they added their applause.

  Raffaele lifted his glass and said, “To Spiaggi!”

  The crowd responded with a hearty “To Spiaggi!” and lifted their glasses to the royal family.

  Raffaele took a drink, but as he lowered his glass, he caught sight of Maggie standing near the ballroom entrance looking shocked. He almost dropped his glass; he hadn’t wanted her to find out like this, without him telling her personally.

  His uncle was standing and inviting the crowd to adjourn into the ballroom for dancing. Raffaele barely waited until he was done talking before he rushed through the crowd towards Maggie.

  Half his brain noted that she looked stunning in the dress he’d picked out for her, but mostly he noticed that she looked like she was about to cry.

  Raffaele reached for her hand and pulled her gently away from the crowd. He chose the first door they came to, which led to a little courtyard tucked off to the side of the house.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, trying to get the words out quickly. “I knew it was something I’d have to do, but I didn’t expect to announce it tonight.”

  “But you knew you were going away.”

  Maggie sounded hurt, and Raffaele didn’t blame her.

  “I knew I’d have to go away some time before the end of this year, but I still don’t know when.” He shrugged. “Or where I’m going when I leave. I imagine I’ll have to do some training, and I may get sent on a mission or two outside the country.”

  Raffaele took a deep breath. “I want to push it to the end of the year if I can. I want…I don’t know how we can make a relationship work, but I want to find out. I’ve fallen so hard for you; I want to try and find a way to be together.”

  Maggie studied him and Raffaele waited patiently for her to decide. When she smiled, Raffaele felt like the sun had just risen.

  “I want to be with you, too,” she said. She placed one hand on his chest and reached up with the other to touch his face. “I know this is going to be tricky, but I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

  Raffaele wrapped one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, drawing her in. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her like she was life itself.

  Maggie raised herself on her toes and pressed closer to his body while he traced her neck with his fingertips and felt her shiver at his touch. She nipped his lower lip, and Raffaele responded by nudging her mouth open with his tongue.

  When Maggie broke the kiss, she looked deep into Raffaele’s eyes. What he saw there made him want to skip the rest of his own party so he could carry her off and kiss her for the rest of the night.

  Like she could hear his thoughts, Maggie grinned.

  “We should get back to your party, birthday boy.”

  Raffaele shook his head. “They won’t miss me.”

  Maggie laughed.

  “Please, after that speech? Every single person in that room is going to want to talk to you.” She patted his chest. “I don’t want to keep you from your responsibilities. But I do want that dance you promised me.”

  He bent her back as he kissed her deeply, but quickly.

  “It’s a deal.” He held her close for a moment longer after their kiss, finally saying, “Spend the next few days with me?”

  She pulled back enough to look at him. “That’s the plan.”

  “No, I mean…let me show you my country. I know we have to talk more about what happens after you leave, but for the next few days, let’s just pretend we’re two normal people who met at a party and are getting to know each other.”

  Maggie grinned at him. He was really beginning to like that grin.

  “You mean, we should date.”

  Raffaele raised an eyebrow. “Well, yes. That’s one way to look at it.”

  “No pressure, no responsibilities, no stress about what happens next?”

  Raffaele nodded and watched her closely. He was becoming more certain that Maggie was the woman for him, and he wanted to spend time getting to know her better.

  “Okay. But only if you ask me out for tomorrow properly.”

  Raffaele brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I’m asking you out for tonight.”

  She laughed. “You have a ball to attend.”

  “Yes, and you’re my date.”

  Maggie tucked her hand in his hand and nodded toward the door. “You don’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight, do you?”

  Raffaele laughed. “No pumpkins here. Promise.”

  Chapter 12

  Maggie

  Maggie bounded out of bed the next morning. Normally, she would have been looking forward to a quiet day after the hectic pace of the last few days, but all she wanted to do was see what Raffaele had planned for them.

  Dancing at the ball had been magical. She’d felt like a princess in her beautiful, sparkly dress, and when they danced, it felt like there was no one else in the room with them.

  A maid knocked on her door, and then entered carrying coffee. The young woman set the tray down and handed Maggie a note.

  Maggie looked at her in question and the maid said, with a knowing smile, “From the Prince. He requests that you have breakfast with him in town.”

  Maggie smiled, her face lighting up as she read the note. “Of course.” She looked up at the maid in question. “Um, should I send a note back to him?”

  She got a smile in return. “No, miss. I think he’s already waiting on you downstairs.”

  “Okay, then. I should get ready.”

  Maggie dressed in record time, and raced down the stairs. She was excited to see what Raffaele had planned for the day, and even more excited just to see him.

  Raffaele was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs; he kissed her cheek and grabbed her hand to pull her outside to the car.

  They drove into town, where Raffaele took her to a tiny bakery, getting pastries and coffee. They sat outside next to a fountain surrounded by bright red flowers in hanging pots.

  It was still early, but the town was bustling as people walked to work and s
chool. Maggie could see that people recognized Prince Raffaele, but except for a few enthusiastic waves from school kids which Raffaele returned cheerfully, no one bothered them.

  The coffee steamed in the cool morning air, but Maggie didn’t even notice the temperature. She was sure she had a sappy grin plastered on her face, but she didn’t care; she was happy and fine with everyone knowing that.

  After breakfast, Raffaele took her to the Spiaggi’s museum of national history. The curator offered to close the galleries so they could walk through privately, but Raffaele declined, saying that he didn’t want to interrupt the regular business of the museum. He escorted Maggie himself, telling her stories about the exhibits and about his visits to the museum as a child, and finding every opportunity he could to steal a kiss from her.

  The national art gallery was next, and then lunch at another tiny restaurant Raffaele liked, followed by a drive up the coast. Raffaele held her hand as they walked along the beach, and then he took her to dinner at a place where they got the seafood right out of the water behind the restaurant.

  The next morning, Maggie met Raffaele practically bouncing with excitement. She laughed and let him rush her out the door. When they got to the center of town, Raffaele parked and then steered her down a side street.

  When they came out at the end of the street, it was to a large open square set up with long rows of tables filled with all sorts of food. On the far side of the square, Maggie could see an area with more tables which held what looked like crafts and art.

  Raffaele waved a hand in a grand flourish at the market. Maggie stared around in wonder.

  “I know I said I was happy not to cook for the rest of my vacation, but this makes me want to change my mind.”

  Raffaele laughed. “It’s early in the season. You should see it in summer.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, only half paying attention to what he was saying as she wandered down an aisle of cheese vendors.