by Ella Brooke
Prince’s Babies
A Royal Baby Romance Boxed Set
Ella Brooke
Sophia Lynn
Contents
Prince’s Baby Scandal
Sophia Lynn & Ella Brooke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
The End
Prince’s Surrogate Baby Daughter
Ella Brooke & Jessica Brooke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
The End
Prince’s Forgotten Baby Son
Ella Brooke & Jessica Brooke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
The End
Copyright © 2019 by Sophia Lynn & Ella Brooke
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CLICK HERE
to subscribe to my newsletter & get EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers, secret previews, and new releases!
Chapter One
Louis
The club pulsed and throbbed around Louis, hypnotizing him with its golden lights and loud music. It had been five years since he’d stepped foot in this place, five years since he’d shared drinks with its proprietor, five years since he’d sprawled over the sofa in the upstairs lounge as drunk as he’d ever been. But he’d been traveling for some time. Enjoying his freedom, while it lasted. Taking a good, long breath away from his real life.
Louis didn’t see Astra at first. Her club was thick with writhing bodies, and if he’d come to L.A. for any other reason, he’d be joining the throng. As it was, he had a fiancée to locate.
He wound his way to a collection of tables surrounding a large crescent-moon-shaped sofa. In the middle, sat Astra, with her legs crossed at the knee as she lounged in her crisp, tailored suit punctuated with a belted burgundy bustier and sporting light purple hair. If she noticed him as he approached, she pretended not to. Well played. Astra had a long memory, it seemed.
Louis stepped up to the table and picked up Astra’s glass. It contained a strong whiskey, of course, and he sipped it as she met his eye.
“Hello, stranger,” she said, reclining back into the black leather of the sofa.
“Good to see me, I hope.”
“Maybe.” Astra made a shooing motion, and the young men and women around her dispersed into the crowd. “Have a seat. Your highness.”
Louis rolled his eyes. Astra’s cursed memory. And grudges. She’d never let one go, just as she would never let a favor go without being repaid. When they’d first met, he’d found his way into her bed without mentioning his royal status once, but of course, she’d found out. A woman with her connections always would eventually.
As he settled beside her, a waitress came by with two more whiskeys, and Astra gave her a nod of approval before turning toward Louis.
“So what do you want?” she asked, a half-smile creeping to her lips.
“Besides your glorious presence?”
“Besides that.” Her brows raised. “You want a favor. Tell me what it is, so we can enjoy the rest of our evening.”
Her fingers trailed up his thigh, but he caught her hand just before they reached the considerable bulge in his Armani.
“I’m looking for a woman. Remember how I told you I was technically engaged?”
Astra rolled her eyes. “Arranged marriages are so sixteenth-century.”
“Are you looking to present that opinion to Critoria’s Directorate? Or are you looking to address the Queen herself?”
“While having tea with a monarch might be on my bucket list, I’m not sure I want it to be your grandmother, particularly. She sounds too much like my grandmother. I’ve already been bent over an old lady’s knee with a switch, thanks.”
Louis chuckled at that image. His grandmother had never raised a hand to him, but her words could sting just as much. “The marriage was arranged when the two of us were twelve.” He shrugged. “I’m honestly just here at Mum Bremen’s behest to find out what’s going on with our little bride to be. She came to the States about ten years ago and stopped contacting her family.”
Astra crossed her arms. “So sad.”
“I figure you should be able to find her pretty easily. I’ve tracked her to L.A. I figured out what name she’s taken. I even have the numbers for her people. They just won’t let me through.”
“Sounds like she’s not interested.”
“Maybe you’ve heard of her,” Louis continued. “Sugar DeLaude.”
Astra’s brows shot up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s L.A. Isn’t every girl an actress here?”
“Maybe so. Most of them aren’t action film stars.”
“No. You see my problem. I could force the matter, get access to her. However, that would hardly endear her to me.” Louis took his whiskey in hand and swirled the liquid around. “I need to call in my favor. I need you to let me know the next time she comes here. Make sure we can talk.”
“Is that all?” Astra moved her hand over his. “You’re sure there’s nothing else you want from me?”
“I’m not sure I could afford anything else.”
She scoffed. “Even with the Critonia treasury backing you up?”
“It’s not a bank account. That budget belongs to the people, not to me. My holdings exist from the investments I’ve made,” he reminded her.
“Still.”
Louis kissed her hand. “I do miss our time together, but I think you have better prospects, honestly. You were just another club owner when I left you. Albeit, a well-connected one. You’re a bit of a queen yourself, these days.”
Astra smirked. “Damn right.” She withdrew her hand and rose. “Enjoy yourself tonight. I’ll see what I can find on our darling Sugar.”
With that business done, Astra began circulating through the club again. Another day, he might have joined her, danced with her patrons, gone up to her loft above, and enjoyed himself to exhaustion. Tonight, however, too much was weighing on his mind. His grandmother had asked him to come find ‘Sugar,’ and he had come out of duty. However, Mum Bremen had been uncharacteristically ambiguous about her current feelings about the match. She wanted him to refocus his life, to settle in some way, to find something to fill his days besides intoxication and women of every creed and color. Louis wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to fulfill this arrangement, though.
Mother did, to a degree. His father certainly had been set on it, to an infuriating degree. If Sugar DeLaude c
ould be persuaded to reclaim her name as Miranda Dalton and act like a proper lady instead of filling box offices, they would probably be content. None of them wanted to be at fault for not making good on their arrangement. Too much business had gone between the Dalton family and the Bremen royals.
Just as Louis set down his empty glass, another two full glasses joined it on the table, coming from the slim, graceful hand of a smiling employee. The bottle of whiskey followed, and Louis looked up at her. She wasn’t dressed like the servers, who had tracks of pink, purple, and silver clipped into their long, flowing manes and skirts short enough to facilitate easy gynecology. No, this woman, petite as she was, had her long, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and wore only a tight pair of black shorts and a tank top that read Astra’s Place across the chest.
“Astra said she didn’t want to see you drinking alone over here.” She grinned a wide smile that creased the corners of her eyes and sat on the edge of the table. “I’m May.”
“Louis,” he returned. “So you’ll be drinking with me?”
“If you want. I’ve spent worse nights here.” Her palms pressed against the table behind her. “You in town for long?”
“It depends.” He took one of the fresh glasses.
“Oh?”
“I’m looking for someone.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how long the meeting will take, let alone finishing up business with them.”
“Still, you could have some fun while you’re in town,” May suggested.
“I’ve had plenty of fun in this town.” He patted the seat next to him, and she came closer.
“I bet you have.” An impish look crossed her face. “Does anyone call you Louie?”
Louis nearly choked on the whiskey. “Only my older brother.”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll just go with ‘Lou’ then.” May took her own glass and leaned back, looking up at him. She was a bit shorter than him, and he felt like he was dwarfing her. “I have an obsession with long names. They’re such a mouthful. So many syllables.”
“No way to shorten May, clearly.”
“You’d think. In college, some of my friends called me Mace.” She paused, waiting for his reaction. “From my first and last name, May Grace.”
Louis laughed. “Does that nickname suggest more about you? Do you have a peppery personality, as well?”
“Maybe sometimes,” she said teasingly.
The two of them fell into easy conversation. Louis suspected May had been instructed to do this kind of thing before—keep some friend of Astra’s entertained. Every time he tried to ask her questions about herself, she turned the conversation back around to him. It took some doing to keep from telling her everything about his life and family, but he stuck as much as he could to peripheral information, and she did the same.
After a couple of whiskeys, Louis expected May to be hitting the floor, but she was clearly one of the bartenders and had consequently developed a decent tolerance. On a whim, Louis rose to his feet and took her hand, leading her to the elevator on the far side of the bar. May seemed to know the way, but her wide, hazel eyes remained curious even after the doors had closed behind them.
“Why are we going up to Astra’s loft? There are no private parties going on up here right now.”
“You’ve had to give up an evening of tips to entertain me. I supposed it was only fair that I entertain you a bit.” Louis tugged on his suit jacket and reached over to caress her cheek with one finger.
“I dunno, man. That seems a little shady as a means of repaying someone.”
Louis gave her a look as the doors opened, then gestured for her to go first.
“I have been up here before.” May gravitated toward the bar and trailed her fingers over the ornate marble. “Gotta have someone slinging drinks at the party.”
Louis strolled to the middle of the room, where a grand piano sat as though waiting for them. He pushed back the wooden cover and took a seat. May watched him, grinning as she leaned back against the private bar, and he started to play one of his favorite Chopin pieces. The music rose around them into the excellent acoustics of the room.
“You knew that was up here,” she accused. “I half-thought—”
“You thought I was about to do something ungentlemanly.” Louis chuckled and closed his eyes as he coaxed the lively but romantic piece from the keys. “They call this one the Aeolian Harp.”
“Do you play it for all the girls?”
“Only the ones who aren’t in my presence by choice.”
May scoffed and came to sit by him on the bench. “I don’t mind as much as you’d think. Like I said, I’ve had worse nights. At least you can hold your liquor.”
“Same to you.”
His hands slowed, and he turned to look down at her. Her face, sprightly and heart-shaped, seemed incredibly amused by his attempts to impress her, to entertain her. She reached for the keys herself and began to pluck out a melody for which he heard the lyrics in his head without May uttering a word.
“Oops, I did it again . . .” the keys sang.
Louis raised his brows and watched as she took over the keys, first continuing with that pop song for a few bars, then switching into another.
“So very gifted.” Louis took the lower keys, working out what she was playing and following with a harmony.
They played together for a few moments before May leaned back, covering her mouth with one hand as she giggled and a flush spread over her cheeks.
“Sorry. I know you were going for something classy.”
“I was just trying to let you have a bit of fun,” Louis admitted. He leaned closer to her. “Did I succeed?”
“Maybe.”
She crooked her lips to the side and looked down at her hands. He edged a bit closer to her and watched the rise and fall of her breaths before reaching over to push some hair that had escaped from her ponytail back behind her ear. Her cheeks went from pink to deep red. Part of Louis wanted to pull her to him, to devour her neck and breasts with kisses, to tease her body until she was gasping. Louis could tell that May wasn’t the kind of bartender who might fool around for a few extra tips, and he didn’t want to pressure her to be that kind of girl.
“I don’t expect anything from you, May,” he promised her. “If you’d like to stay up here with me, you and I can enjoy each other’s company. If you prefer, you can go back downstairs and finish your shift. I won’t be offended.”
“You really think there are women out there who would tell you no?’
“I just want to make sure everyone is able to say yes.” He smiled wryly. “Doesn’t everyone want to believe that people choose to be around them?”
One of her small hands moved to embrace his own, and she offered him a curious but effortlessly kind expression. May’s large, dark eyes searched his face, and he laughed softly to distance himself from her genuine interest.
Maybe that was what he needed more than anything. More than his dalliances and pleasures around the world. More than the joy of making music. Louis needed to be with people who wanted to be with him, rather than those who were lured by the power of his position or ordered by some arrangement. After all, Louis hadn’t yet confirmed that he and Miranda were still on for their marriage, and May seemed so open and accepting.
Louis was still free, for the moment, as May was there for him to choose if he liked.
He cupped her delicate heart-shaped face in his hand and moved in slowly. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as their lips met, and sparks ran up his spine.
Chapter Two
May
When Louis had walked into the bar, May had been if not surprised, at least not expecting to see him again so soon. He’d checked into the penthouse suite at the Four Seasons early, and she’d still been in there scrubbing the tub when he’d entered. They so rarely did that. Even if the concierge had called up to the room, May had been listening to an audiobook on “true” ghost stories at the time and wouldn’t have heard.
>
But then, a towering man had stepped into the bathroom. Her eyes had caught sight of his shadow, and she’d jumped and turned so quickly she’d toppled into the tub. Her book played on as he’d chuckled and offered her a hand. He was, truly, the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, and living in L.A., land of precision, perfection, and plastic surgery, that was something. His rich brown eyes creased at the corners in sympathy, and as he’d leaned forward, wavy, black hair fell into his eyes. Through profuse apologies, she’d pulled her earbuds out, and he had waved her off and told her everything was fine, and that he’d be going out anyway so not to let him bother her.
He had been incredibly kind. For the type of person who stayed in those suites, anyway. May had never been caught by a guest before, but Maria had, once, and the crusty old bitch had nearly gotten the poor woman fired. Thus, she was fairly pleased to see Louis again (after having gotten the man’s name from the bell hop) and set up some drinks for one of the waitresses to send over. After Astra had left, May poured another set and went over to talk to him.
But there had been no recognition in his eyes when he looked up at her. May should have expected that. Even the kindest of the upper crust didn’t notice the help much. She should know that by now, she chided herself. So, she lied a bit and sat down to talk with him. It had been surprisingly easy, and he’d looked so dejected. No one that handsome should ever have reason to frown.
