The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American: Sovalon Royals Book Two

by North, Leslie

  “What do you have to lose?” he asked. “Worst case, nothing changes from the original plan, but best case, maybe you don’t have to do this alone after all? Maybe we both can find something that’s been missing in our lives.”

  Kyra found herself enraptured by Marcus’s voice, his lips. And, damn it, his logic. He made some good points. It would be so easy to let him in, but, she reminded herself, they’d only had a one-night-stand. And she had her career on the line here.

  “I just don’t know, Marcus,” she said and looked away.

  He walked down the porch steps and into the garden so that he was beside her.

  “You know,” he began, “my dad just called to berate me for not taking this project seriously. He hasn’t been out here to check on it and see what I’ve done, but he assumed it’s been close to nothing.” Marcus sighed and shook his head, and Kyra could feel the shame and frustration rolling off of him in waves. “My father and everyone else have always seen me as utterly incapable, but that’s only because nobody has given me a chance to prove I can be more than that.” He dug deep into Kyra’s eyes, seeming to reach her soul. “Please. Give me that chance?”

  Kyra thought about the way she’d seen people treat him at board meetings. It seemed to be true that no one thought him capable. And while she knew there was probably some reason for that reputation, she’d seen how people took their judgments too far, doubting everything he said even when he made good suggestions or offered good ideas. As a woman of color, she’d had her own experiences with people discounting her abilities based on their own prejudgments. She didn’t want to be like them. Especially when Marcus seemed so sincere.

  “Okay,” she finally said, and to her surprise Marcus picked her up off her feet and whirled her around. She smiled cautiously at first, then let herself sink into his strong arms. Something about them felt just about right.

  “You have made me a very happy man,” he said.

  Kyra set her head against Marcus’s shoulder, hoping that she hadn’t opened a floodgate she would never be able to close.

  6

  Even after the revelation that Kyra was pregnant, and the upsetting phone call from his father, Marcus thought the first night at the estate was a success. The next morning, he, Kyra and Ava had shared a lovely breakfast together, Kyra thrilled by the pancakes the chef had made just for her. When Kyra had expressed that she felt tired, he’d seen his opportunity.

  “Why don’t you take a nap,” he suggested. “I’ll play with Ava for a few hours while you rest.”

  Kyra had taken him up on it, and he was enjoying playing LEGOs with Ava.

  “What are you building?” Marcus asked the little girl.

  “A castle,” she told him. “Do you live in a castle?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Do you?”

  She giggled. “No, I live in an apartment.”

  “Me too,” Marcus said. “Neato.”

  Ava giggled.

  The doorbell rang, and Marcus got up to answer it.

  “Delivery for Marcus Ashton,” a man in uniform said.

  “That’s me.”

  The man began carrying packages of toys, clothing and shoes, sized for women and children, and Marcus realized this was their first shipment of donations for the shelter.

  “Let me help you,” he said. “Ava, you want to play outside for a minute while I make sure everything gets unloaded properly?”

  “Sure!” she said and followed Marcus out to the driveway.

  He tasked two of his assistants with helping unload the vast array of items, then stood taking inventory of everything.

  “Wow, check this out,” Marcus said as he discovered a box of skateboards and placed them on the driveway. Ava made her way over to have a look. “My brothers and I used to ride these when we were kids.”

  “Cool,” Ava said. “Can I try?”

  “I’ll show you how it’s done,” he said and hopped on one of the boards. He’d forgotten how much coordination was required and quickly fell to the ground on his first two tries. Finally, he made it down the driveway.

  “That was awesome,” Ava said. “My turn.”

  “Okay.”

  Marcus helped her climb onto the board and spent the first half-hour teaching her how to balance herself by putting her arms out to the side and stepping off the board if she felt she was about to fall. Ava was a great student.

  “You want to try it on your own?” he asked when he felt she was ready.

  She nodded and excitedly hopped onto the board. Halfway down the driveway, she fell sideways and let out a loud cry. Marcus hurried to her.

  “Can you stand up?” he asked after inspecting the ankle that appeared to be injured.

  “It hurts,” she cried and tears poured out of her eyes, slaying him with guilt. He never should have allowed her on that board.

  “I think we need to get you to a doctor,” he told her. Should he wake Kyra? Tell one of the staff? He didn’t know what to do but felt time pressing in on him.

  Marcus scooped Ava into his arms and placed her in the backseat of his sports car, alerting one of the servants to the situation. On the way to the emergency room, he called Kyra, but her phone went to voicemail.

  “Kyra, please don’t worry, but Ava hurt her ankle. I’m taking her to the hospital.”

  After explaining what had happened and exactly where they were heading, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake. Maybe taking care of Ava or any child was too big an undertaking for him.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to prove himself worthy.

  Because maybe he just wasn’t.

  * * *

  As the limo pulled up at the hospital, Kyra didn’t even bother to wait for Marcus’s driver to come around and open the door. Instead, she burst from the backseat and rushed inside.

  What had she been thinking, leaving Ava in Marcus’s care?

  She hurried to the registration desk.

  “I’m looking for a little girl,” she sputtered nervously. “Ava Rogers?”

  “Of course,,” the woman replied, smiling. “The one with the handsome prince.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kyra said and rolled her eyes. She was totally unimpressed by the handsome prince at the moment.

  “I’ll call for a nurse to take you back to her room.”

  Kyra charged into Ava’s room and began firing questions.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

  She noticed Ava’s foot was in a cast. “What the hell?” The words exploded from her lips, and her eyes fell on Marcus, who was sitting next to Ava, close to her bed, holding her hand.

  “Get out,” she said to him and pointed to the door.

  “Kyra—” he began, surely ready to spout some dumbass excuse, but Kyra didn’t let him finish.

  “Out!” she yelled.

  Marcus squeezed Ava’s hand, which enraged Kyra to no end, and left the room, looking forlorn.

  “Baby,” Kyra said, tears in her voice. “Are you okay? Tell me what happened.” She couldn’t cry. She didn’t want to upset Ava further.

  But Ava didn’t look upset. Ava looked happy as a clam.

  “I’m okay, Auntie Kyra,” Ava told her. “I have a broken anchor,” she said, and Kyra let out a strained laugh.

  “A broken ankle you mean?”

  “Yeah.” Ava nodded and pointed to her cast. “The nurse lady put a pink cast on it, and lookie what Marcus made for me.”

  Kyra’s eyes followed Ava’s finger to the image of a goofy-looking dog that Marcus apparently had drawn on her niece’s cast.

  “He barks when you scratch his nose,” Ava said and scratched her cast. “Well, the prince makes him bark, I guess.”

  “How did you get hurt, baby?” Kyra asked.

  “Oh, me and that prince were having the time of our lives,” she said, her smile growing. “He was teaching me to ride on a skateboard, and he told me what to do if I started to slip, but I forgot—and then I fell.”

>   “Oh no.”

  “Yeah, but then I got to ride in his fancy car, Auntie Kyra. It’s the fanciest car I’ve ever been in in my whole entire life. But it didn’t have pop in it like the limo. If it did, it would have been perfect.”

  “Were you scared?”

  Ava shook her head. “That prince talked to me the whole way to the hospital, and I almost forgot that my anchor hurt.”

  “Ankle,” Kyra said, laughing in spite of herself.

  “Yeah. He kept me safe,” she said. “I really like that guy. Do you like that guy?”

  Kyra smiled at Ava, feeling guilty for going off on Marcus.

  “I don’t know him very well—but yes, I think I like him. I’ll be right back, okay, Ava?”

  She got up and walked out into the hallway, where Marcus eyed her nervously.

  “Kyra, I’m so sorry—” he began, but she waved a hand at him to stop.

  “It was an accident,” she said. The twinge of guilt grew inside of her. “I’m sorry I freaked out at you and refused to listen to your explanation. I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the hospital room or yelled at you.”

  He brushed away her apology. “It’s totally understandable. You were worried and upset. There I was supposedly taking care of Ava, and she gets hurt on my watch.”

  Kyra shook her head. “No, you did everything right. Kids get injured sometimes—that’s just part of life. What matters is that you were there for her, and you acted quickly to help her as soon as she got hurt. If you hadn’t gotten Ava to the hospital, who knows if her injury could have gotten worse?”

  “I was so scared when she cried,” he admitted. “I didn’t know if I should wake you up or get someone, but I just felt like I had to get her to a doctor—”

  This time Kyra interrupted Marcus with her lips, planting them sweetly on his and taking a moment to show her gratitude in a different way. She wasn’t sure how things with Marcus could ever work with her returning to Georgia and him being one of the princes of Sovalon, but at that moment she wished it could. She was more attracted than ever to this handsome man who had taken such good care of her niece.

  “Thank you for taking care of Ava,” she said and kissed him once more, lingering on his lips the way her wish lingered in her thoughts.

  7

  On the ride home from the hospital, Marcus’s lips buzzed. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve a kiss from Kyra, but he wanted to keep on doing it over and over again—maybe without the broken ankle.

  As they pulled up to the estate, Ava released a loud yawn.

  “You could use a nap, I think,” Kyra told her.

  “I’m not sleepy,” Ava said, her words escaping in between yet another monster yawn.

  “I think you are,” Kyra said.

  Marcus helped Kyra tuck Ava in and after telling the housekeeper to keep an eye out for her, they headed outside for a much-needed walk.

  “It’s really gorgeous out here,” Kyra commented as they strolled along a wooded path behind the house. “So peaceful.”

  Marcus nodded. “Edward and Clementine were right about this place. Sometimes my father doesn’t agree with saving every historic site Clem and Edward set their sights on.”

  “Your father doesn’t appreciate history?” she asked, and Marcus laughed.

  “He likes the history that means he’s in charge,” he joked. “But he’s mostly focused on growth, making Sovalon more modern.”

  “I see,” Kyra said.

  “He and Edward bump heads often because of this issue, and my father is a man who’s used to getting his way.”

  “That sounds like it can get sticky,” Kyra said. “But he’s supportive of the restoration of this place?”

  “Absolutely,” Marcus said, although his father hadn’t been thrilled about it at first. He’d wanted to turn the property into a condo community, but Clem had swooped in and rescued it. “This house is really something.”

  “The greatest part is that there’s lots of space to expand on the already large building,” Kyra said. “It would make a wonderful sanctuary for families in need of a place to go.”

  Marcus heard the passion in Kyra’s voice. He admired how dedicated she was to her job. “You’re so good at what you do.”

  She looked away, seeming shy. “I guess. Aside from my family, it’s the only thing I’ve put my whole heart into for a long time.”

  They were silent for a moment until Marcus piped up.

  “I have to admit, I really enjoyed hanging out with Ava today.” He paused then continued. “Until she got hurt, of course. God, I thought I’d die, I felt so helpless and worried that I’d been bad for her. All I wanted was to make things better.”

  Kyra nodded. “That’s what it feels like to be a parent,” she said. “I’ve experienced my share of it between taking care of Maggie and now Ava.”

  “I kind of liked it,” Marcus admitted. “It made me feel like I had a purpose, something more important than myself.”

  “I can understand the sentiment,” Kyra said.

  “And I liked that kiss too.” He grinned at her, hoping she’d take the bait and lay another one on him, but she stuck her tongue out at him instead.

  “We should head in,” she said. “It’s almost dinner time, and I promised Ava spaghetti.”

  “I think the chef should be able to handle that,” Marcus said.

  “No chef tonight.” Kyra had a challenge in her eye. “Ava only likes spaghetti with her special sauce.”

  Marcus frowned. “I can’t cook, Kyra.”

  “Let’s give the kitchen staff the night off,” she told him. “I’ll teach you.”

  * * *

  Dear God in heaven, this man was not joking when he said he couldn’t cook. Kyra actually had to show him how to use a garlic crusher.

  That wasn’t a deal breaker though. At least he was willing to learn.

  “Do onions make everyone cry, or am I just a sensitive guy?” he joked, and Kyra laughed.

  “So you sweat the onions and garlic in the olive oil,” she said and gave them a stir with a wooden spoon. “Add a generous dash of salt and pepper.”

  “How much is a dash?” Marcus asked.

  He had to be joking, but before she could be sure, she heard Ava’s sweet voice.

  “Can I help?” the little girl asked.

  “Absolutely!” Marcus said. His eyes lit up when they fell on Ava. The housekeeper was ushering the poor girl into the kitchen on her crutches. “Let’s pull up a stool for you.” Marcus grabbed a tall chair from the kitchen island and plopped Ava onto it.

  “Thanks, Jan,” he said to the housekeeper before turning back to Ava. “So, your Auntie Kyra was telling me how much a dash is.”

  Ava giggled. “I’ll show you,” she said and added the salt and pepper to the pan. “Now it’s time for the tomatoes and sauce, right?”

  “You got it, baby,” Kyra said and grabbed the can opener.

  “I can do that,” Marcus said and took the canned tomatoes and sauce from Kyra. Soon, the kitchen smelled of tomato-basil sauce, an aroma that reminded Kyra of home.

  “Mmmmm,” Ava said. “I’m hungry.”

  Marcus flicked the Sonos on, and began dancing around the kitchen, which distracted Ava from her hunger. She burst into laughter.

  “Are you laughing at my dance moves?” he asked and swept her into his arms to join him, spinning her around before gently putting her down again.

  Kyra stood back watching, unable to wipe the smile from her lips. Marcus had such an easy way with Ava. He seemed so authentic in his enjoyment of her and in spending time with Kyra. How simple would it be to let herself love this man? To create a home with him and raise their child in an atmosphere like this? They could dance around the kitchen in their own house.

  Suddenly, Marcus grabbed Kyra and twirled her around.

  She let out a throaty laugh then angled into him.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “What have I done to wa
rrant thanks?” he asked.

  She looked deep into his eyes, hoping he would feel the weight of her words.

  “For today,” she said. “For wanting to prove yourself.”

  He smiled down at her, his dark eyes glinting with what looked like laughter and hope. “Does that mean you’ll kiss me again?”

  Kyra turned around to make sure Ava wasn’t looking.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking,” he said when Kyra turned away from him. “Mmmm. The sauce smells delicious.”

  When Kyra turned back toward him, she realized she was hungry. And not for spaghetti. She leaned into Marcus and let her lips sink into his. As the kiss ended, she whispered onto his lips.

  “You’re delicious.”

  8

  Marcus sat at the wrought iron garden table on the back patio in the cool air of late evening. His eyes stared out at the thick copse of trees behind the estate but in his mind, Kyra’s face was front and center, in the moment when she’d closed in for a kiss. When she’d leaned into him and pressed her lips onto his, she’d lit him up inside, surprising him and turning him on all at once. His instinct had been to pull her closer, to tangle his hands in her curly hair and ravage her with more kisses.

  But Ava had been right behind them.

  Surprisingly, Marcus didn’t resent the little girl for being a buffer between him and Kyra. He was simply charmed by Ava—she brought out emotions in him that he’d never experienced. Earlier, when she’d gotten hurt, he’d been overwhelmed by feelings of wanting to take care of her every need, to make everything okay. If he didn’t know better, he would call those feelings fatherly.

  To be honest with himself, he didn’t know better. He had no idea what fatherly felt like.

  But he wanted to learn.

  Spending even one day with Ava and Kyra had shown him that he not only enjoyed playing the role, but that he might actually be good at it. He’d handled the broken ankle situation pretty well. He’d even learned how to cook—sort of—and judging by Kyra’s reaction, he’d done okay.