Prince's Babies: A Royal Baby Romance Boxed Set

by Ella Brooke

“I don’t think I’ve felt less up to anything in my life,” Mateo replied honestly. He sank into the seat.

  “I’m not sure how to respond to that.” Hanna perched on the arm of the couch and turned off the music. “Are you changing your mind?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. Not now.” Mateo pressed his lips together, then covered his mouth. “And I wouldn’t ask that of you. No, what’s done is done, and if I’m to be a father, that’s what will happen. It just seems…”

  Hanna slid onto the couch and tilted her head to look up at him. “What?”

  “My whole life has been planned for me. Everything is set in motion, and yet nothing at all feels settled.” Mateo closed his eyes. When he felt Hanna touch his shoulder, he sighed. “I’m being overly dramatic and emotional.”

  “Yeah, knock it off. That’s my job now.”

  Mateo looked up and grinned.

  Hanna smiled warmly. “I bet this would be easier for you if we were in your home country. Maybe you could call some of your friends, talk this out?”

  “You know, I don’t really have any close friends,” Mateo admitted. “There are those I pass time with at major functions. Cousins who have known me all my life. I don’t think I have friends the way you have friends. Hanna, you offered up a year of your life for them. You agreed to put your body through a dramatic change, just for them.”

  Hanna shrugged. “I love them. I don’t really have any family. They’re it.”

  “And they’d do the same for you?”

  Hanna considered that. “Most of them.”

  “Would Sam?”

  Hanna rolled her eyes. “Biologically, I doubt he could. He definitely would open his veins for me, if I needed it.” She smiled. “He’s not that bad. You’ve met him once, barely.”

  “You clearly care a lot about him.”

  “I do. He’s like a bro— Um. He’s my best friend. I guess that’s odd. Having a best friend who’s this guy nearly a decade older than me.” Hanna sucked in her lower lip. “You should meet the others, too.”

  “I’ve met one. The girl with pink hair. And I saw one hanging out on a sofa in the art house.”

  “The guy on the couch is Blaine. He paints the abstracts. Pink haired girl is Maris. She paints, too, but she mostly makes jewelry and some wicked metalwork sculptures.”

  “And you’re the potter.”

  “Yes. We’ll have dinner later this week. You should come.”

  “I could try that.”

  Hanna patted his knee. “I’m going to get you some water so you don’t want to die in the morning.”

  Mateo leaned into the weathered cushions. He didn’t know which was worse, going home to talk to Ariana or relying on Hanna’s ragtag group of friends for sympathy.

  Hanna returned, glass in hand, and pushed it on him until he took a long drink.

  “You’ve got quite the caretaker streak yourself,” Mateo said. “Looking out for your friends, for me.”

  “If you don’t take care of the people you love, who will?” Hanna tucked her hair behind her ears. “My nana always said that. She raised me, and God, if everyone in town didn’t love her. She took care of anyone who would let her. So, I guess for me, I don’t think about it. It’s just as easy to consider what the people around you need.”

  “It really isn’t that easy. That makes you special.” Mateo set his glass down and turned to face her.

  “I’m just another girl trying to keep her family together. That’s all.”

  “You’re far more than just another girl. I hope your little family makes sure you know that.”

  Hanna looked down at her lap shyly. Her fingers curled, and she sighed softly. From this angle, her lashes looked miles long, and her lips seemed pouty and full. He hadn’t noticed the dusting of freckles over her cheeks. One freckle on the left side of her nose drew his attention, and before he realized what he was doing, he was reaching to touch…

  “Oh!” Hanna jumped back. “Mateo… No. I know we flirted a bit at the coffee shop before we knew each other, but we can’t do this. Even if it’s arranged, you’re going to be married. You’re going to be a father.”

  “Of course, you’re right.” Mateo looked into her wide, gray eyes and swallowed.

  “We can’t,” she repeated.

  “I heard you,” he muttered. His blood rushed in his ears. Blood rushed to other places. “Maybe I should go—”

  Hanna’s lips unexpected met his, and her hands grasped the sides of his face. They were rougher than he’d expected, from their long hours shaping and creating. He grasped one of her hands as they kissed, squeezing it and feeling over the marks of her trade on her small, caring palms. By contrast, her lips were just as skilled, but ever so soft.

  When their lips parted, both of them were gasping. Her cheeks were flushed, and she averted her eyes. He took her hand between both of his as though he was praying.

  “Mateo…”

  “I know. We can’t. Just, let me have a moment.”

  Her other hand brushed through his hair, and all of a sudden, he noticed how quiet the apartment was. He could hear both of their breathing in the silence. He wanted nothing more than to stay here with her, knowing more kisses would follow. But if she didn’t want him— totally and enthusiastically— he couldn’t have her at all.

  Reluctantly, they parted, and it felt as if someone had severed part of him with a knife.

  Chapter Eight

  Hanna

  The next morning, Hanna still couldn’t believe what she’d done. She felt ill, and not just from the hormones starting to surge through her body, preparing it to transform from one person into two. Just a few hours before Hanna had kissed Mateo, Ariana had stood beside her while the doctor examined her. She’d been so nervous, and Ariana was so kind and accommodating. Regardless of the crazy Artiguan political situation, how could Ariana not be hurt by Mateo trying to romance the surrogate?

  It was awful, and Hanna felt awful. Sam had come in from his swing shift looking better than she did. He’d put off going to bed and made her breakfast. He didn’t leave her side until she’d eaten a bit, and he didn’t look at all surprised when she told him the news about the baby.

  “Good work, kiddo.” He kissed her cheek and rubbed her shoulders.

  “I excel at fertility.”

  “You excel at many things. Let me know if you need anything?”

  “Not right now. I just need to get through the morning without coffee.”

  Sam ruffled his hair and sighed. “How about some rooibos?”

  “What?”

  “Davide’s tea. He drinks it whenever he’s having a rough morning. It’s got tons of antioxidants. I know he keeps some here.” Sam went to the cupboard. “Here we go. I’ll put the kettle on. We can get you some ginger or peppermint, too.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  Hanna felt too guilty to fully unburden herself, but she did enjoy the tea.

  When Hanna got to the art house, Maris was already in the workroom with her pliers bending wires to her will and around precious stones. Her Japanese “kawaii metal” music throbbed so loudly that it could be heard in the front of the shop, so Maris didn’t lift her head as Hanna came in. Since they wouldn’t be opening officially for another hour, Hanna didn’t disturb her and instead went to her work station to get some pieces done before she had to take her shift in the front.

  “Oh, God!” Maris jumped in her seat and laughed. They had both been working for nearly an hour when Maris finally noticed her.

  “Bow before me. I would also accept an offering of turning the music down.”

  Maris stood and did so. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

  “First one who gets here controls the sound system. That’s always how it works.” Hanna rubbed her eyes with a clean spot on her wrist. The rest of her hands were stained brown-red.

  “Are you okay? You look really tired.” Maris perched on the empty table beside Hanna and her pottery wheel.

 
“I am pretty tired.”

  “Do you want me to take the front?”

  “No, you have orders to get out too.” Hanna slowed the wheel and looked at what she’d been working on. It was lopsided. She was going to have to start over. “I can’t focus right now anyway.”

  Maris tightened her pigtails. “I could go get us some lattes.”

  “I’m off coffee for a while. Officially.”

  “Ohhh…”

  “Yep.”

  Maris bit her lip. Hanna closed her eyes, but when she did that, all she saw was Mateo. This was going to be a long day.

  “I think I’m just gonna send everyone a text. Save us a lot of awkward conversations.”

  “Girl, you saved our art house. We owe you. I’ll cover for you for an hour and get Blaine to cover until lunch.”

  “But—”

  “Shut up! It’s the least we can do.” Maris hopped up and rubbed the muscles behind her thumb. “When do we get to see the hottie that knocked you up again?”

  “You’re the worst. You’re worse than Davide,” Hanna accused. “And we’ll set up a dinner or something.”

  Maris gingerly hugged her from behind, careful to protect her clothes from the clay. “We’re all here for you, babe. Just take it easy, okay? Look after that girl we all love.”

  “Thanks, sweets.”

  “I can’t believe you.” Blaine entered the workroom, with his arms crossed. “I’m so exhausted. How am I supposed to create, if I have no energy?”

  Hanna rolled her eyes as she washed her hands. It had taken the better part of the morning for her to accomplish anything, and she couldn’t take the particular keen of Blaine’s whining today. Maybe she wasn’t very motherly.

  “Look, you could have said no. But as of next week, I own the building. We’re solid now. It’s a good thing. I’m just trying to keep the business going. It would be nice if you could help, too.”

  “You’re not in charge of the art house just because you signed on for this.” He gestured toward her middle.

  Hanna said nothing. She just cleaned out her nails and cuticles.

  “What, you’re giving me the silent treatment now?”

  “I’m not responding to that. I’m in a bad mood today and there are sharp objects back here,” Hanna said coldly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t think I’d test her, if I were you.” Mateo’s voice came from the back of the room. He stood there, smiling, and looking no worse for wear from whatever yesterday had been. He strolled past Blaine, patted his shoulder (to Blaine’s annoyance), and approached Hanna. “I was wondering if we could talk. Maybe I could take you out to lunch.”

  “I’m not quite ready to call it a day,” Hanna said. She looked over at Blaine, who seemed increasingly huffy, and pointed to the door. “Can you please just watch the front until Maris gets back from lunch? Sam didn’t get back from work until I woke up this morning. He’s our old man. Cut him some slack.”

  “You could cut him some slack and do it yourself,” Blaine said.

  “As the man putting up the dosh to buy this building for you, I would appreciate your patience, and a bit of privacy,” Mateo said sternly.

  Blaine lifted his chin, favoring them both with a stubborn look, but he did actually leave. Hanna couldn’t bring herself to care what had caused him to be gone. She was just happy he was.

  “You are a miracle worker. No one makes Blaine do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Hanna said.

  “Like recognizes like. Some people respond to arrogance more than respect or empathy.”

  Hanna couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night. I spent the afternoon sampling some bars in the area, and then I um…”

  “No. It’s fine. I understood. I’m the one who should apologize. I wasn’t drunk at all, I just—”

  “You’re just pregnant and vulnerable,” Mateo supplied. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “I kissed you. I’m the one in the wrong.”

  “I let you. And I very much kissed you back.” Mateo sighed. “I can’t deny I’m attracted to you, and last night…”

  Hanna folded her arms over herself and looked away. “Can’t we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

  She slipped past him and went to the line of fired pots and plates awaiting glaze. She moved her fingers along the grooves she’d cut into each piece. Mateo stepped behind her. She could feel him there.

  “Did you make all of these?”

  “Of course. I’m the only one who works with clay here.”

  “There are so many.”

  “I’ve been motivated. I’m told it’s hard to work at your potter’s wheel when you’re super pregnant.” Hanna smirked. “I’m up against a clock here. And anyway, I’m going to have to let someone else do the glazing now. Best to have everything ready to go when that happens.”

  “You’ll hire someone?”

  “It’s not safe for me to do it… with the baby…”

  “Oh.”

  Mateo’s hand brushed against her back gently, and then pulled away. “What would you do to glaze them? Would you use the brush?”

  “Pretty much.” Hanna smiled. “You shape them, fire them, color them, fire them again.” His brows raised in interest, and Hanna picked up a plate and motioned for him to follow her. “I’ll show you.”

  He sat beside her at the table, and she met his eye as she picked up a brush.

  “Keep the strokes smooth,” she said in a near whisper. “Guide it around. It’s like the color is already there. You just need to bring it out.”

  “That makes no sense at all.”

  “It does to me.” Hanna laughed. She dipped the brush in water and put the handle in his palm. Guiding his hand with her own, she moved the brush around the edge of the plate in a wide circle. “You’re good.”

  “I’m not good. I’ve painted before.”

  “Really? What do you paint?”

  Mateo shrugged. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “Try.” Hanna pulled her hand back and pointed to the plate. “Show me how you’d do it.”

  Mateo’s brow furrowed, and he dipped the brush again and began circling it with determined care. Hanna bit her lip as she watched him. She couldn’t imagine just stopping her pottery. Why would he ever stop painting?

  “Didn’t you enjoy it?” she asked.

  “The kiss?”

  Hanna shot him a look.

  “Painting. No, I loved it. But people had expectations of me. It was really a waste of time,” Mateo said.

  “That’s a lie.” Hanna pressed her lips into a line as he narrowed her eyes at her. “You have all the power and privilege to do whatever you want. How can something you have a passion for be a waste of time? You wouldn’t even have to sell anything. You could just paint for yourself.”

  “I could. I don’t.”

  “Who told you it was a waste of time?” Hanna sucked in her cheeks then answered her own question. “Your mother.”

  “Among other people.”

  “Maybe you could help me out. Would you like to try glazing a few pieces?”

  “I don’t want to ruin the work you’ve already done.”

  “I have a few pieces you could practice with.” Hanna reached for the plate and their fingers touched. She shuddered.

  “If passion is always worthwhile…”

  “Mateo,” Hanna protested. “I cannot do that to Ariana.”

  “Ariana has a side passion of her own,” Mateo spat out bitterly. It was like he could barely make himself say it.

  “What?”

  “Last night I caught her talking to her boyfriend on the phone.” His brows screwed together, and he shook his head. “I thought I might’ve overreacted. Today, I started looking through her emails. Not the most ethical thing, granted, but… She’s been with him for years. She calls him Rico, but his real name is Maurico Cancio. I’ve known him since I was seven.”

&nb
sp; Hanna stared at him speechless. Quiet little Ariana?

  “He asked her to marry him a few months ago. I don’t know if her parents were aware of this when they agreed to her marriage to me.” Mateo stood abruptly. “I don’t really have license to be offended here, do I? I haven’t been faithful in my heart, and I’ve made no efforts to move my relationship with Ariana from acquaintance to romance. I feel more when you touch my hand than I ever have with her. It’s like being asked to marry my little sister.”

  “You have every right to be angry,” Hanna argued. “She’s lying to you. It’s a bizarre situation, regardless, and there’s no reason the two of you couldn’t be honest about what you wanted—”

  “There cannot be a scandal. We can’t have it. My parents would throw a fit. Her parents could disown her. They have all the power here.”

  Hanna rubbed her temple. This was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. All this complication. All this drama…. But they hadn’t managed to avoid it. It was already here. When Mateo turned back to her and touched her fingers, she didn’t pull her hand away. Instead she stood and stepped closer. Their chests were flush against one another, and she felt like she was overheating.

  There could not be a scandal. And yet she couldn’t pull away. She couldn’t make herself turn her head when Mateo brought his lips to hers and cupped the back of her head, couldn’t keep her hands from pressing into his broad, strong chest. Their lips met over and over, and her breathing grew ragged. She began to shake slightly as his arms slipped around her waist, and she reached up to cup his face.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since the coffee shop,” he admitted, before moving his kisses down her neck.

  Hanna had denied how attractive Mateo was to herself, to anyone who mentioned it. Now as he nibbled and sucked her tender flesh, she moaned softly and leaned forward eagerly. His hand moved to the small of her back, and she felt herself being moved back onto the table. She looked down to see the top of Mateo’s head as he worshipped her breasts. Her fingers curled through the back of his curls, and she sighed deeply.

  Then, his eyes lifted to hers, and he smiled as his hand drifted lower. She nodded slowly and spread her legs slightly, though he needed little help finding what he was looking for. Soon his fingers had slipped under her skirt and begun teasing the neglected space between her legs. Good God, it had been too long since anyone but her had been down there, and Mateo was a man who knew what he was doing. He had keen ears and seemed to be able to read her pleasure from every soft intake of breath and partial sigh. He stroked up and down, finding every sensitive spot, causing blood to rush into them.