His Pregnant Christmas Princess

by Leah Ashton

  ‘My first white Christmas,’ Ana said softly.

  ‘Our first Christmas,’ Rhys said. ‘I hope there are many, many more to come. With you and with our baby.’

  ‘There will be,’ Ana said, standing on tiptoes, a breath away from kissing him. ‘I love you, Mr North.’

  Then he kissed her, beneath the fairy lights and the flakes of snow.

  When they eventually came up for air, Rhys’s words were hot against her cheek.

  ‘I love you too, Your Highness.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Leah Ashton

  The Prince’s Fake Fiancée

  Behind the Billionaire’s Guarded Heart

  The Billionaire from Her Past

  Nine Month Countdown

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from CEO’s Marriage Miracle by Sophie Pembroke.

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  CEO’s Marriage Miracle

  by Sophie Pembroke

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARIA CATTANEO—NO, she reminded herself, she was going by Rossi again now, even if it wouldn’t officially be her name until after the divorce—gripped her son’s tiny hand a little tighter as she stared up at the luxury chalet before her. How could something so familiar feel so strange at the same time? She’d spent Christmases and ski trips at the Cattaneo chalet in Mont Coeur for years—long before she and Sebastian had married—and on the outside, at least, the chalet had hardly changed a bit in all that time.

  The same wooden veranda surrounded the oversized but traditional-style chalet, with festive greenery and berries wrapped around its beams in celebration of the season. A large green-and-red wreath hung on the front door. Inside, Maria could see lights twinkling through the windows, and knew that an absurdly huge Christmas tree would be decked out in red and gold, somewhere out of her line of sight.

  Everything was the same. Everything, except her.

  ‘Mamma?’ At her side, Frankie looked up, his little face almost hidden by the hood of his snowsuit. It was freezing out, and darkness was falling; she needed to get him inside.

  Which meant knocking on the door.

  ‘Are you ready, piccolo?’ Maria asked, forcing a smile. If Frankie sensed her unease and discomfort, he would only become distressed himself. And that wasn’t going to make this enforced homecoming any easier on either of them.

  ‘To see Papà?’ Frankie nodded, his expression strangely set and serious for a two-year-old.

  I’m glad one of us is ready, Maria thought, as she swept him up in her arms and climbed the steps. Then, with a deep breath, she knocked on the chalet door.

  Maybe her sister-in-law Noemi would answer. Or even the mysterious new brother her husband and sister-in-law appeared to have acquired since Maria had left. Basically, anyone would be better than—

  Sebastian.

  The door swung open to reveal the familiar, muscular frame of her husband, and for a moment Maria was certain that nothing at all had changed. That she’d never left, that she was still in love with him, that they were happy...

  She snapped out of it. She hadn’t been happy. That was why she’d left.

  Happiness was hundreds of kilometres away, back at the small cottage on the edge of her parents’ estate, where she and Frankie had been living for the last year. It wasn’t here, in the Swiss Alps, at the Cattaneos’ luxury chalet. And it certainly wasn’t with Sebastian, whatever her younger self might have hoped and dreamed.

  He couldn’t give her what she needed. If she’d thought for a moment that he could, there was no way Maria would have left at all. But the Sebastian she’d walked away from hadn’t been capable of the love she needed. She had to keep that thought at the front of her mind this whole visit, otherwise there was just no way she would make it through with her heart intact.

  When Sebastian had called and asked her to come for Christmas, with Frankie, her first instinct had been to refuse. Every other visit Sebastian had spent with his son, she’d managed to avoid, sending Frankie with his grandmother, or with Seb arranging to collect him from her parents’ house when Maria was out. There’d only been two or three visits in the whole year, so it hadn’t been hard to arrange.

  But as difficult as it might be to go back, Maria also knew it was the right thing. Her son needed his father in his life. And Sebastian had been through so much lately...a Christmas visit from Frankie was the least she could do.

  And then there had been that cryptic voicemail from Noemi on her phone when she’d landed, saying she hoped that Maria would be there tonight as she had something to discuss with the whole family.

  As if Maria still counted as family. Even now.

  Sebastian took a small step forward, and the light from the veranda illuminated his face. Maria held back a gasp, but only just. It had been twelve short months since she’d seen her husband, but from the weariness in his deep green eyes, and the lines forming between his brows, it could have been a decade or more. Sebastian had never really been the carefree, light-hearted sort—not like his sister Noemi—but Maria had never seen him looking quite so beaten down by the world before.

  Was this because of her? She bit her lip as she waited for him to say something, but for a long moment he seemed content to just stare at her, and at Frankie, drinking them in. And she couldn’t help but do the same, looking up into his once beloved face. His dark brown hair was cropped close to his head, shorter than she remembered it ever being before, and somehow it made him look even taller—although at six foot one he had always been almost a foot taller than her. She’d liked that, she remembered despite herself. Had liked resting her head against his chest and feeling his heart beat against her cheek. As if they had been connected in a way much deeper than the wedding vows their families had arranged for them to take.

  This man had been such a huge part of her life for as long as she could remember. They’d grown up together, in all the ways that mattered. How could she have imagined she could cut him out completely, however far she ran?

  ‘You came,’ Sebastian said, at last, his deep voice reverberating through her body. Maria bit back a curse. She’d forgotten too how much just being near him, just hearing him speak, could affect her.

  This was why she should have stayed away. But she had been unable to because...

  ‘You asked me to.’

  He gave her a small, uneven smile. ‘That was by no means a guarantee that
you would.’

  Another sign of how little he’d really known her, Maria thought. If he’d understood how much she’d loved him once, he’d have known she could never have turned down that request. Not when he’d sounded so desperate.

  ‘Please, Maria. I need you and little Francesco here for Christmas. Everything is different now. Please come.’

  So, of course, she had. And at the back of her mind she had to admit that partly it was to see if ‘different’ meant what she’d always hoped it would. That their marriage could be what she’d once dreamed it would be.

  Also because she still felt guilty—for leaving in the first place, and for not coming back sooner, when Noemi had first called with the terrible news.

  ‘I almost came before,’ Maria said, ‘when I heard about your parents.’ Salvo and Nicole Cattaneo had been second parents to her, too, and when she’d heard of their deaths in a helicopter accident in New York, Maria had thought she’d never stop crying. But, just like when she’d left Sebastian, she’d eventually straightened her spine and started over. The world didn’t stop for grief, however much she might wish it would.

  It couldn’t have stopped for Sebastian either, she realised. He’d have been left dealing with not only the emotional fallout from his parents’ deaths but also the practical side. Keeping the business—the world-famous Cattaneo Jewels—running like he always had would probably have proved a happy distraction from his grief, knowing Sebastian the way she did. But the news that he had a secret brother he’d never known about—one who, according to Noemi, had been left a controlling share in the family business—that couldn’t have been easy for Sebastian to swallow.

  She’d known how much he must be suffering, and her heart had ached for him. But still she hadn’t been able to make herself return to Mont Coeur until Sebastian himself had called and asked.

  After all, it was the first real sign she’d had that he’d even registered that she’d left him, that she hadn’t just gone away for an extended holiday.

  ‘Why didn’t you come? For the funerals, at least?’ Sebastian asked. There was no accusation in his voice, no implication that she should have been there, as his wife. Just normal curiosity.

  She supposed she had to give him points for that.

  ‘I wasn’t sure it was my place. Any more.’

  I wasn’t sure you’d even notice if I was there.

  ‘Maria.’ Sebastian’s eyes turned darker, even more serious, in the snow-lit gleam of the winter’s early evening. ‘There is always a home for you here. For you and for Frankie. Whatever happens. That much I can promise you.’

  It’s not enough. It had never been enough.

  But if he hadn’t understood that when she left, he wasn’t going to suddenly get it now. Especially when he had so much other stuff going on in his life. So she said simply, ‘Thank you.’

  Sebastian turned his gaze to Frankie, whose eyes widened under the scrutiny. As Seb reached out to take him from her, Maria’s hands tightened instinctively, even though her arms were aching from holding him for so long.

  Frankie turned to hide his face against her shoulder with a tiny squeak of a whimper. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. He’d only just turned one the last time they’d been here at Mont Coeur. His visits with his papà had been in Milan, close to the main offices of Cattaneo Jewels, or the villa the Cattaneos owned near her parents’ estate. For all that the place and its people stirred up constant memories for Maria, for Frankie this must all seem so new and strange—and a little scary.

  Seb’s hand flinched away, the pain clear in his eyes.

  ‘It’s been a long day. We’re both a little tired,’ Maria said, trying to ease it for him, as she always had.

  Seb’s sad smile told her he appreciated the lie. They both knew that Frankie’s real reluctance had far more to do with hardly having seen his father in a year, and then mostly on a computer screen, if Seb had managed to video chat when his son was still awake.

  Maria forced the guilt to the back of her mind. It wasn’t her fault that Sebastian had never lived up to his promise as a father—or as a husband. Just like she refused to feel guilty about leaving and seeking her own happiness.

  How could she have possibly stayed, when staying had meant accepting that the love of her life could never truly love her back?

  Knowing that Sebastian had only married her because his father had told him to was one thing. Hearing him throw it in her face that awful night before she’d left was another.

  ‘Come on, Maria. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to our fathers’ plans. You married me to save your family business, just like I married you to get the merger between our companies. And now you’re complaining that I’m spending too much time working at that same business?’

  Except she hadn’t, of course. Yes, she might never have gone along with her father’s insistence on the merger if the family hadn’t been in such dire straits. But she’d had other plans, other ways to save it—if only they’d let her.

  Instead, she’d left her business degree, come home, and married Sebastian to give her family a physical stake in the newly merged business, taking the name Cattaneo as the name Rossi had disappeared from the company letterhead.

  It hadn’t been how she’d wanted to do it. But she never would have done it if she hadn’t already been in love with Sebastian Cattaneo—and if she hadn’t believed that one day he might come to love her back.

  Accepting that the love she had given him so freely and fully would never have been more than a convenience for him...that had been by far the bitterest pill to swallow. But swallow it she had—even if it had taken several years and a child to do so. She couldn’t go backwards now, not when she’d worked so hard to move on.

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be keeping either of you on the doorstep in this cold.’ Sebastian stepped back, ingrained politeness obviously kicking in. He opened the door wider until the light from inside the chalet flooded out to encompass them all. ‘Come in, both of you. Everyone’s waiting to see you. And...welcome home.’

  Maria’s chest tightened just a little more as she stepped over the threshold. Mont Coeur could never be home again, even if she wished it could be otherwise.

  As soon as Christmas was over, she and Frankie would be on their own again. Sebastian could keep the company—she had something far more important. Their son. And together she and Frankie would concentrate on building their own lives, far away from the Cattaneos and Mont Coeur.

  And that was the best thing for all of them.

  However much it hurt.

  * * *

  She’d cut her hair.

  Seb was sure there were other changes in his wife—and heaven knew he could see the incredible difference in his son, from the one-year-old baby he’d been when Maria had left to the two-year-old toddler in Maria’s arms now.

  But the only one he could focus on right now was the fact that she’d cut her hair.

  Those long, long ribbons of jet-black waves that had hung almost to her waist were gone. Now her hair sat neatly on her shoulders, curled under at the ends. Still thick and glossy and vibrant as always, just...shorter.

  And he was staring. He had to be, because Maria was starting to actually look concerned about him, which she hadn’t been at any other point in the last year, not even when his parents had died and he’d acquired a new sibling out of nowhere and lost control of the business and—

  Hell, now he was rambling. In his mind. Which he supposed was slightly better than doing it out loud.

  What had happened to the calm, collected businessman he’d been a year ago? Oh, yes, his entire life had unravelled, that was what.

  And it had all started the day he’d come home to find Maria packing sleepsuits and her favourite pyjamas into the suitcases he’d bought for their honeymoon years earlier.

  ‘Sebast
ian?’ Maria placed Frankie on his feet on the floor as Seb shut the door behind them. Across the large, open living space of the chalet stood his sister and surprise brother, along with their new partners. More new people in his life to replace all those he’d lost.

  But he wasn’t ready to share Maria and Frankie with them just yet.

  Maria began stripping off Frankie’s bulky snowsuit. But her questioning eyes stayed on Seb, and he felt the weight in them.

  ‘You cut your hair,’ he said, with an apologetic half-smile. ‘It suits you.’

  ‘My life now suits me,’ she said simply. The life in which she avoided him at all costs, managing to be elsewhere even when he arrived to collect Frankie from her parents’ house. That life.

  He was so glad it suited one of them, at least.

  Then, as Frankie—free from his confining winter wear at last—wriggled free of his mother’s grasp and took a couple of steps forward to investigate the antique nativity crib scene set up on a console table, Maria straightened and looked him in the eye.

  ‘I want to be clear about one thing,’ she said. ‘Before we join the others or unpack or settle in or anything.’

  Sebastian ignored the growing feeling of dread in his stomach as she spoke. ‘Go on.’

  ‘This is a visit. Nothing more. Once Christmas is over, Frankie and I will be heading home again, back to my parents’ estate.’ The emphasis she’d placed on home cut deep. This had been one of her homes once.

  He had been her home.

  ‘We’re not staying, Sebastian,’ she went on. ‘I want that understood from the start.’

  Seb forced a smile. ‘Of course.’ Maria’s expression relaxed, and he knew he should leave it there, that to push it further would only ruin the fragile peace they seemed to have achieved.

  But he couldn’t help himself. He always had to try a little harder, a little longer. That was who he was. Who his father had raised him to be.