Lone Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 7)

by Lilian Monroe

  The footman stops at a modest door, pushing it open and giving me a slight bow. “Your office, Miss Reed.”

  “Thank you.” I smile at him before shifting my gaze past his shoulder and into the room.

  It’s small, but it’s unlike any office I’ve ever had before. The walls are a soft cream color, with a rich red carpet below my feet. I smile, wondering if Wolfe chose this office for the color. My feet carry me to the window at the far end, which overlooks manicured lawns and fountains spraying tall jets of water—even with winter fast approaching. I lean my forehead against the cool glass, letting out a long sigh as I stare out at the richness below me.

  I don’t belong here, but the least I can do is enjoy it while it lasts.

  “Didn’t take you long to come back to work,” a rich voice says behind me. I turn to see Wolfe in the doorway, his shoulders brushing either side of the opening. He’s too big to exist in these spaces, but the sight of him filling the doorway makes a bud of heat unfurl in my stomach. I want those strong arms around me.

  I gulp, forcing a smile. “The Summer Palace isn’t going to design itself.”

  He steps inside, closing the door behind him. We’re alone. Again. Somehow, it feels more scandalous to be alone in this castle with him. At the Summer Palace, as the storm raged around us, it felt intimate. Here, in the capital, it feels like I should be on my best behavior.

  The Prince walks toward me, not stopping until his hand sweeps over my hip. He wraps his arm around my back and pulls me close, pressing his chest against mine.

  “I think you missed me,” he whispers, a grin teasing the edge of his lips.

  “Of course you would think that.” I roll my eyes, but there’s no animosity in it.

  Yes, I missed him. Yes, I came here hoping, in a hidden corner of my heart, that he’d come find me. Yes, my heart is fluttering at the thought of him doing just that.

  But I’m not going to admit it.

  As my gaze crawls up to meet his, the Prince’s smirk sends fire rushing through my veins. He doesn’t need me to say it, because he already knows.

  I’m not here to work.

  I’m here for him.

  22

  Wolfe

  Rowan’s body belongs next to mine. I can feel it when I hold her close. As I sweep my hand over her cheek and hear a soft moan fall from her lips, I know my heart is in jeopardy.

  This is more than lust. It’s more than a carnal urge.

  I feel whole for the first time in four years. I could have a future—a bright one, full of laughter and love. I could hold a woman in my arms and feel her love soak into every pore.

  Ha. Love.

  Who said Rowan loves me? Why would I think that?

  Is it because her lips fall open when I tangle my fingers into her copper hair? Is it because the thumping of her heart sends shivers rattling through my core? Is it because I feel something dangerously close to love for her?

  If she loved me back, would I be able to protect her, or would I fail her just as I did Abby?

  When I kiss Rowan, my thoughts are finally silent. There’s only Rowan and me. Our kiss. Our hands. The burning passion that makes me claw at her clothing and spin her toward the tiny desk behind me.

  I sit her down, cupping her face with my hands and I taste her once more. Her lips are like candy, and I’d never get sick of kissing them. She clings to my shirt, pulling me close as her legs wrap around my waist.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” Rowan whispers against my lips.

  I chuckle. “This again. Why not?”

  Her brows draw together, but no words come out. I kiss the tip of her nose, her cheek, her jaw, her lush bottom lip.

  I growl, kissing her still. “Why not, Rowan? Tell me.”

  “Because we can’t be together. It’s not going anywhere.”

  “Says who?” My lips brush against her neck, which prickles with goose bumps wherever my kisses land.

  “Says…everyone, Wolfe.”

  I groan. “I love it when you use my name.”

  “I shouldn’t. What if someone heard me calling you anything but Your Highness?”

  “They’d know I asked you to.” I pull away, running the backs of my fingers over her cheek. I brush my thumb over her mouth, watching her eyelashes flutter at my touch.

  She’s gorgeous.

  “When I saw you lying in the snow outside the palace gates, I thought you looked like an ice goddess,” I whisper, brushing my lips over hers. “I thought you were part angel.”

  “Must have been a rude awakening when you realized I wasn’t.” She grins, but I don’t. Her self-deprecating humor has no place here, when all I want to speak is the truth. I want to tell her everything in my heart. Show her that we can make this work—if she wants it.

  Running my fingers down her sides, I pull her shirt up. She lifts her arms, letting me take the garment off and toss it aside. I let my hands brush her pale skin, running over the thousands of freckles dusted across her body.

  “I’m still not convinced you’re fully human,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. I slip her bra strap down her arm, following it with my lips.

  “I’m a flawed human, through and through,” Rowan answers, her fingers reaching around to the nape of my neck. With her other hand, she leans back on the desk, arching toward me.

  “Show me a flaw, Rowan,” I growl. “I’ve been looking for one.”

  “They’re all hidden under layers of sarcasm and bitterness.”

  “Nothing about you tastes bitter.” I kiss her clavicle, moving slowly across the bone until my lips brush the center of her chest.

  Rowan lets out a sigh, leaning farther back to let me kiss her. Her body softens, melting under my touch as I unhook her bra and take her breast in my mouth.

  And it’s true—nothing tastes bitter. She’s sweet, delicious, perfect. Crafted just for me by some higher being who wanted to show me that good things still exist in this world.

  Rowan’s fingers flick the buttons of my shirt open as her hands crawl hungrily over my chest. She pushes the fabric off my shoulders, then moves to tug at my belt. Her eyelids hang low, lips still glistening with my kiss—and my God, she looks like the sexiest woman in the world.

  I let her tear my belt off and tug my pants down. When she wraps her fingers around my cock, I let out a low groan. I reach down her skirt and beneath her underwear to the sweet honey between her legs. When I touch her, Rowan shivers, moaning gently.

  I could listen to that moan on repeat and never get sick of it. I could watch her eyelids flutter and her mouth form a soft O. I could kiss every inch of her until the day I die, and I’d be a happy man.

  Me. Happy.

  I never would’ve thought it could happen—but with Rowan, it’s possible.

  As I tease the pleasure out of her, I love the way her face relaxes. How her mouth falls open and a little whimper slips through her lips. She pumps my cock in short jerks before getting lost in her own lust, forgetting about her hand on my shaft for a few seconds. I watch her orgasm build as her nipples harden, her stomach clenching, back arching. I drink in the sight of her like this, just for me.

  And I love it. I want more of it. Every day, all the time.

  I want Rowan.

  Not because she’s an angel. Not because I found her in the snow and brought her back to life. Not because I’m looking for someone to save or to protect.

  Because she doesn’t need me to do that for her. She’s strong and brave and beautiful. She comes on my hand, digging her fingernails into my arms as her legs tremble on either side of me. My cock throbs, leaking precum against her stomach as she clings onto me.

  And fuck, I want this. Really want this. I want everything Rowan’s willing to give me. I don’t want this to have an expiration date or a long list of conditions.

  I want Rowan to be mine. Forever.

  “Wolfe…” she whispers, eyes hazy. Her hand finds my cock again, rubbing me as the last thrills of
her orgasm make her body buck and grind against me. I pull my hand out of her pants and wrap it around hers, still gripping my shaft. I love the way her eyes widen and her breath shortens as I pump my cock with her fist.

  Her other fingers crawl up my chest as her legs wrap around my hips, holding me close. The heat of her core presses up against me as I jerk myself off with her hand.

  “I want to see you come, Wolfe,” she whispers, glancing at me through thick lashes. She bites her lip, and that’s what does me in. I grunt, spurting hot, white seed onto her stomach as she grips my cock and clings onto my body, grinding herself against me as I finish.

  My lips find hers as my chest heaves, but I’m not quite ready to back away. There’s a glow around us. Inside me, a desire burns to tell her everything I feel.

  I want her beside me. She’s given me life. Hope. Maybe even love. She’s shown me that life isn’t over because of a loss—no, maybe it can be even sweeter, because now I know how true pain feels. Now that I’ve seen the darkness, I can appreciate the light.

  But as we fall apart and I stare at her flushed face, words stick to my throat. She giggles, reaching for a tissue to wipe my seed off her stomach, shooting a cheeky grin my way. “That wasn’t exactly the royal welcome I was expecting.”

  “What other welcome would I give you?” I grin, but my words feel empty. What I want to say is, stay. Be here with me, but not as an architect. Walk out onto a balcony and hold my hand in front of an army of photographers. Let me kiss you on the steps of the palace as the world watches.

  Rowan wipes the last of my orgasm off her stomach, and my heart clenches. A week ago, I was worried about not having access to the morning after pill. Now? I’d love nothing more than to see her belly swollen with my child.

  I shake my head to scatter the thought, clearing my throat as I reach for my shirt. Rowan does the same, getting dressed in silence. She glances at me a few times, as if trying to gauge what I’m thinking.

  “I should probably let you get to work,” I say, buttoning the last ivory button on my chest.

  Rowan straightens up, dipping her chin down. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

  When she meets my gaze, there are walls up between us. Walls which, by all rights, should be there. They’ll always be there—because, after all, she’s from Farcliff, and she’s in Nord for work. I’m a prince, and I knew the moment Abby died that I was destined to be alone.

  Isn’t that the truth?

  All those other thoughts—about life and happiness and beauty—they were just lust talking.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” I say and walk to the door. When my fingers are on the handle, though, I stop.

  Why does it have to be this way? Why do I have to turn my back on her? Why not walk into the light and appreciate Rowan’s presence for what it is: a gift. Happiness, bottled up and presented to me in the form of a beautiful, copper-haired goddess.

  In three strides, I’m back beside Rowan again. I wrap my arms around her and crush my lips to hers, kissing her with all the strength of my emotion.

  I want this. Her. Us.

  When I pull away, we’re both flushed and panting.

  I grin. “I couldn’t leave without doing that one last time.”

  “Not the last, I hope,” Rowan says. Her smile widens, and there’s no distance between us at all. No walls.

  “Definitely not,” I say, pressing my lips to hers, as if I want to convince myself that it’s true. I’ll get to kiss her again, and again, and again.

  She lets out a happy sigh, casting a tangled web around my heart that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to escape.

  23

  Rowan

  What am I doing with my life?

  Everything is upside down. Every day, I go to the castle to work, and I end up wrapped up in Wolfe’s arms. Even when I go home to Grandma, I’m reminded of him there, too. He’s the one who made sure she had a place to stay while she recovered. He’s the one who organized a nurse for her. He’s the one who set aside an office space for me to stay for as long as I need.

  Below the arrogant, princely exterior, he’s thoughtful and soft and loving and—

  Uh-oh.

  I’m in trouble. I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t help myself. As the days pass, my feelings grow stronger. All it takes is a glance from Wolfe. A tug of his lips. A brush of his fingers along my cheek.

  The spell he’s put on me is strong, but I’m not sure I want to break it. I like the feelings invading my heart. I like the comfort of his arms and the heat of his embrace.

  One week passes. I work, steal moments with the Prince, take care of Grandma, eat, and sleep. There’s a memorial for Wolfe’s fiancée, but he still comes to see me in the office. When I ask him if he’s okay, he smiles softly and touches his forehead to mine. “Better now that I’m here with you.”

  His words send warmth spiraling through my core. My heart thumps. These feelings are growing.

  Another week passes. Then another.

  I’m in a haze. I’ve been in Nord for just over six weeks. The Prince and I first made love at the visitor’s cottage a month ago. How have four weeks gone by already? I barely even remember my life in Farcliff. Business? What business? Now, in my life, there’s only the design of the Summer Palace…

  …and the Prince.

  He features front and center in my brain now—not that I mind. Every time the royal car picks me up and drops me off at the castle, a thrill pierces my belly. Every time the office door opens and the Prince ducks his head to enter, I can’t keep the smile off my face.

  My life is good.

  Six weeks ago, I wanted to be independent. Free of any personal relationships and chains that might hold me down. I wanted to be a burden to no one, standing tall on my own. Being independent was my way of honoring my mother’s memory. I didn’t want anyone else to feel the weight of responsibility for me.

  But now…everything feels different. Independence feels a little too lonely. I like having the support of the Prince, and knowing he’ll take care of Grandma even if I can’t.

  On a clear, cold afternoon, the royal car drives me away from the castle. I realize I’ve been here for exactly seven weeks—hardly an eternity—but I feel more at home in Nord than ever before. I belong somewhere.

  Pushing the front door open, I call out into the house and find my grandmother in the kitchen. She looks tired, but her face is flushed with happiness.

  “You’re home early,” Grandma says, smiling at me from the kitchen table.

  “Doctor’s appointment in an hour,” I explain. I tilt my head. “Why do you look so pleased?”

  “I walked today.” She beams.

  Dropping a kiss on her soft, white curls, I wrap my arms around her. “Already? That’s amazing, Grandma.”

  “The physical therapist was happy. She said my recovery is going faster than expected, but she doesn’t think I should go back to the Summer Palace until spring.”

  “Of course not. Wolfe said you can stay here as long as you need. I’ll stay here with you, too, and head back up to the Summer Palace when construction starts.” Why would I go back to Farcliff, anyway?

  Grandma’s eyes zero in on me. “Wolfe?”

  Glancing away, I walk to the sink. “The Prince, I mean. His Highness.”

  “Rowan…” Her lips purse. That tone of voice—I know it well. She sounds just like my mother.

  I fill a glass with water and take a gulp before turning around slowly, lifting my eyes to meet hers. I paint an innocent look on my face, but I know she can see right through it. “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on with you and the Prince?”

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Rowan.”

  “Nothing.”

  Yeah, double down. That’s the right thing to do. When caught in a lie, just lie again. That always works.

  I clear my throat, gulping down the rest of the water. “I have to get ready for my appointment.”


  I scurry out of the kitchen and rush to the bedroom to avoid my grandmother’s stare. The last thing I want to do is explain that I’m going to get a Pap test and checkup for a birth control prescription. The Prince and I have been using condoms, but I want to go back on the pill. Neither of us is sleeping with anyone else, and it feels…right. I want to be intimate with him on another level, and I want to make sure an accident doesn’t happen.

  I can’t tell Grandma that, though.

  As I change my clothing and run a brush through my hair, I try to still my beating heart.

  She’s right. Something’s going on between me and the Prince, and we haven’t really talked about what it means. All I know is the best part of my day is when I see him. I want to spend more time with him. I want this to be real…

  …but how could it be?

  He’s still royalty, and I’m just a contractor working for the royal family.

  Swallowing down my fears, I push my flame-red hair back over my shoulders and call out a goodbye through the house. I grab the puffy red jacket Grandma organized for me at the castle, zipping it up and bracing myself against the cold. When I step outside, the royal car is waiting for me in front of the house. I frown.

  Eyvar, the Prince’s most trusted bodyguard, leans against the passenger side door. He nods to me. “His Highness wanted me to drive you to the doctor.”

  “I told him I’d take a taxi.”

  “He insisted.”

  My heart flutters. Is that all it takes now? The Prince sending a car for me, and all of a sudden I’m all gooey inside?

  I nod to Eyvar and let him open the back door for me. Slipping inside, I put my purse on my lap and wait for him to get in the driver’s seat. We travel in silence until I can’t take the tension in the car anymore.

  “I know you don’t like me, Eyvar.”

  He glances in the rearview mirror. “I have no opinion of you. I work for the Prince.”