Royally Unexpected 2: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection (Surprise Baby Stories)

by Lilian Monroe

  “What about Hunter?” I ask, turning to look at Luca. “Are we going to do anything about him? Do you think he’s dangerous?”

  “I’ll talk to Margot.”

  Luca wraps his arms around me and I melt into his embrace. I rest my head on his broad shoulder, listening to the beating of his heart. It thumps against me, calming me down with every beat.

  The Prince strokes my head, laying a gentle kiss in my hair.

  “I’m doing this for you and the baby, Ivy,” he whispers. “When that baby comes, I don’t want there to be any danger. We have to end this before he’s born.”

  “He?”

  Luca looks down at me as I arch an eyebrow. He grins, shrugging. “I think it’s a boy.”

  “Men always say that,” I laugh, shaking my head. “But as soon as a little girl comes out, your heart melts and you turn into a gooey mess.”

  “Who are you calling a gooey mess?”

  The Prince squeezes me tight, picking me up to place me on the kitchen counter. He crushes his lips against mine as my heart flips inside my chest.

  Every kiss feels like the first time. Every touch sends sparks flying over my skin. Every gaze makes my stomach clench and my thighs squeeze together.

  I love this man with all my heart.

  I just hope he’s right about Beckett, and that this will be over before the baby comes.

  10

  Margot

  Now that Hunter is gone from my life, I’m realizing what a toxic influence he was. He’d constantly be in my ear, criticizing Ivy. He’d tell me that my sister was a leech, that she didn’t care about me, that she was only using me for my money and to have a place to live.

  He used to say that Melissa was another social climber, and she couldn’t be trusted. The only person I could trust was him.

  That’s why he was always the one I would call when I had a problem. The one who saved me from parties and paraded me around for the paparazzi. The one who held the keys to every job I ever landed. He was the one that was using me. I see that now.

  Taking care of my mental and physical health and finding out I’m pregnant has transformed my life in ways I could never have imagined. My priorities have completely shifted from myself and my career, to taking care of my baby. I was in such a haze of alcohol and bitterness that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.

  Ivy is the only person that has ever cared about me. She’s the only one that truly wants me to be well.

  Not successful. Not famous. Not rich.

  She wants me to be healthy, happy, and well.

  I take a deep breath, smoothing my hair down as I stare at myself in the mirror. I’m getting ready for my doctor’s appointment after another night of fitful sleep. Huntington’s disease has always loomed over us. When Ivy got her results, she ripped them open right then and there, letting out a happy sigh when she saw that she was negative.

  I wasn’t so lucky. It took me months to work up the courage just to read the results.

  Now, I know. My body will break down just as my mother’s did. My child will have to watch me die in the same way I had to watch Mama fall apart.

  Turning away from the mirror, I try to push the thought out of my mind. The gremlins in my mind cackle, letting words echo in my mind.

  What if the baby gets it, too?

  I ball my hands into fists and force myself to go downstairs and into the waiting car.

  My sister smiles at me as the driver takes us to our doctor’s appointments. I glance behind us, trying to spot any paparazzi that may be following.

  I haven’t even told Felicity that I’m pregnant. She’ll blow a gasket when she finds out.

  But it doesn’t matter, because I have Ivy’s support. She hooks her arm into mine and leads me inside the building.

  I’m led into the doctor’s office and told to sit down. I fidget, bouncing my knee up and down until the doctor walks in. She’s wearing a white lab coat and black-framed glasses. After an ultrasound and a few other checks, the doctor smiles at me.

  “Everything looks good. All signs point to a healthy baby in there, Ms. LeBlanc.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “As far as we can tell, yes. Now, you have a decision to make. Do you want to get genetic testing done on your baby? It’s about time we got on with it, if you want to.”

  Fear pierces through me. She could do the test now. In a few days, I could find out if my baby has my disease.

  I gulp. “I don’t know.”

  The doctor spins to face me, folding her hands on her lap. “It’s a difficult decision. I understand that. As I explained last time, usually we only do the testing if you know you’ll terminate if it’s positive. If you don’t get the test, your child will have to decide for themselves if they want to be tested once they turn eighteen.”

  Don’t you love when people who couldn’t possibly understand say, ‘I understand’?

  Being faced with the certainty that my baby will carry my disease would leave me with a horrible choice. Do I condemn it to a short, painful lifetime as the baby’s body breaks down, or do I end its life before it even starts?

  I shake my head. I would never be able to terminate. This baby is more a part of me than I could have ever imagined, and I can’t bear the thought of losing it.

  I know that other people would make that choice, and it might be a mercy for the child. But this baby has saved me from my own self-destruction. This baby is everything to me.

  I shake my head to hide the tears in my eyes. “I don’t want the test.”

  “Margot,” she says softly. “There’s a fifty percent chance…”

  “I know. I can’t. I want to have this baby.”

  The doctor nods. “Okay.”

  And that’s the end of it.

  Guilt snakes in my veins, squeezing me from the inside out. For the millionth time, I rake myself over the coals for my choices.

  My baby was conceived with a bad man, in a haze of substance abuse. They said I had heroin in my system. Heroin! The most I’ve ever done was a bit of acid at a music festival a few years ago. I don’t…

  I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to think about it.

  How is it possible that everything looks healthy? How is it possible that everything would turn out okay? Am I making the wrong choice?

  The way I feel is almost like survivor’s guilt. I couldn’t possibly come out of this unscathed. Why do I get to be so lucky?

  I let out a breath, squeezing my eyes shut. I almost don’t believe the doctor. I’ve spent the last four months worried about the damage I might have done to my baby. Ever since I’ve found out about the pregnancy, I’ve been doing everything right. Before that, though…

  I shake my head, not wanting to think about my life before the retreat. I was spiraling out of control. I was stuck in my own head.

  Maybe I did willingly do heroin. I don’t remember much from that night except taking Beckett up to my bedroom. I was on a self-destructive war path.

  The doctor sighs, taking a seat beside me. She takes my hand in hers and stares at me with soft, kind eyes.

  “As far as we can tell, your baby is completely normal. I know this pregnancy might not have come at the ideal time for you, but try not to stress out about it too much. You’re going to be a loving, wonderful mother.”

  A sob racks through my throat, surprising me. Emotion chokes me, and I shake my head. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been so irresponsible.”

  “You’ve done everything right from the moment you found out you were pregnant. You’ve completely changed your life. You should be proud of yourself. You’re exactly the type of person that the rest of us should look up to.”

  I’d laugh if I wasn’t afraid it would turn into an ugly sob.

  The doctor’s kind words bounce off me and fall to the ground. I let them slide away, not believing any of it.

  I’m the furthest thing from an inspiration. People keep telling me that I’m a role model and th
at I’m brave and strong. Felicity told me that the feedback on my interview has been overwhelmingly positive.

  She said I’m ‘back in the game.’

  What game, exactly? Why does it feel like I’m always losing?

  The only thing I have is persistent, nagging anxiety about my entire world crashing down around me.

  The doctor gives me one last smile and then leaves the room. When I rejoin Ivy, she’s beaming.

  “Good news?” I ask, forcing a smile.

  “I’m having twins!” Ivy laughs, clapping her hands over her mouth before throwing them around me. She hugs me tight. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Margot. It would be scary on my own.”

  “You’ve got Luca, too,” I remind her.

  Ivy’s face softens, and a smile stretches across her lips. “Yeah,” she says. “I do.”

  We head back to Spoonful of Sugar together. Ivy’s friends, the twins Giselle and Georgina, are working behind the counter.

  They follow us into the back of the bakery, looking at Ivy expectantly. Ivy gives them both a kiss, mumbling something to them. The twins squeal, hugging her.

  “Twins!” Giselle exclaims. At least, I think it’s Giselle. One of them has a mole on her left cheek, but I can’t quite remember which is which. They both change their hair color so often it’s hard to keep up.

  “Lucky,” Georgina says, wrapping Ivy in another hug.

  I smile, sliding my own hand over my stomach. As the dread inside me melts away, I allow myself to be happy for just a moment.

  I’m pregnant with a healthy baby. My recovery is going strong, and Hunter is out of my life. Ivy and I are closer than ever, and my baby will have not one, but two cousins to play with their entire lives.

  A warm, comforting hand slides over my lower back, and I turn to see Prince Dante beside me. He smiles and I lean into him, feeling my heart tug in his direction.

  I have him, too. Not that he and I are anything. We’ve only known each other for a matter of days. But at least for a little while, I can enjoy his attention, his affection, and his kisses, can’t I?

  He fills my heart up to the brim, and that can’t be a bad thing.

  “How was the doctor?” Dante asks, nodding to Ivy.

  “It was good. Everything’s healthy and normal,” I say. “Ivy’s having twins.”

  Dante’s face breaks into a smile—a real, genuine smile—and my heart melts into a puddle of goo in the middle of my chest.

  “You like kids?” I ask, my voice squeaking. He still doesn’t know I’m pregnant, but seeing his face light up like this makes me want to tell him.

  “Love them,” he says. “Almost as much as animals. They’re the only two honest creatures on this earth.”

  “I’ll agree with you there,” I smile.

  He excuses himself and moves to congratulate Ivy. She beams at him, glancing over his shoulder to see Luca stepping into the bakery. My sister’s face brightens so much when she sees Prince Luca that I can’t help but feel happy for her.

  Dante smiles at Ivy, too, and I have such a strong urge to tell him about my baby. I want to see that look on his face when he looks at me, too.

  But it wouldn’t be the same. Ivy is his brother’s partner, so he can be happy for her like a brother.

  What am I?

  The girl he kissed yesterday. The famous actress that he lives with. His flame of the month.

  If I tell him I’m pregnant, I might lose his attention and his affection, and I’m not sure I want to do that. Dante’s eyes swing back to me, and a shiver of heat runs down my spine.

  No, I’m not ready to let go of whatever is going on between us. The way he looks at me makes me feel alive again. There are so few good things in my life right now, so few things that make me feel like everything is going to be okay…

  …I don’t want to lose what little joy I have.

  I’ll tell him I’m pregnant, just not right now.

  Ivy, the twins, and Luca head back out front to help the bakery’s customers, and Dante grins at me.

  “Looks like we’re alone again.”

  11

  Dante

  Is it just me, or do Margot’s boobs look especially juicy right now? It takes all my self-control not to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to the house.

  Every hour that goes by with Margot in my presence, I want her more. Seconds tick by like the beats of my heart, and my body tenses up in anticipation.

  Her chest rises and falls with every breath, and I sweep my eyes over her perfect curves. My whole body thrums, and I wonder who exactly I’ve become.

  I’m not the type of guy who has near-uncontrollable urges around women. I’m not the kind of guy who welcomes the attention of the media, or volunteers to go on a press tour with my brother. I’ve spent the last couple of decades of my life avoiding those things completely.

  Now, I’m ready to throw my privacy out the window.

  I can tell myself that it’s for Luca. I can pretend that I’m doing this to protect my brother.

  The truth is, I want to do anything I can to stay here. I feel drawn to Margot in a way that I never even imagined. As my eyes drift up to her lush, pink lips, the thought of kissing her screams through my head. I can’t think of anything else except tasting her lips again.

  Leaning toward Margot, my breath catches. I don’t even care that anyone could walk in on us. I don’t care that Luca and Ivy might see. By the way her fingers curl into my shirt, and her head tilts toward me, I know that she wants me too.

  Ever since our kiss last night, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. One hit of her, and I’m already addicted.

  I need more.

  Margot lets out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Whatever you want me to,” I growl.

  Redness blossoms over her cheeks, and she glances at me through her eyelashes. Sucking her lip between her teeth, she presses her chest against mine. My cock throbs, always hypersensitive whenever Margot is near.

  I’m ready to slam her against the wall and plunge myself inside her. Right here. Health code violations be damned. I’ll spread her legs here in her sister’s bakery.

  Before I can do that, though, Ivy pokes her head through the door. “Media caught wind of Luca being here. Huge rush. I need you to pull some cupcakes and Danishes out for me.”

  Margot jumps away from me, nodding to her sister. She glances at me quickly before ducking into the walk-in fridge. Coming out with a big tray of pastries, she gives me the slightest, sexiest smile I’ve ever seen from her.

  There’s a playful side to Margot that I haven’t gotten to know yet. We’ve been so consumed by worry and security issues that I haven’t had a chance to see what she’s like when life isn’t upside down. I know there’s another side to her, though. I can see it in her eyes.

  I just hope I have the chance to get to know it.

  She carries the tray out to the front of the bakery, and I follow her out with another. As soon as we step out into the main cafe area, phones and cameras are trained on Margot. She puts the tray of baked goods down and smiles at the assembled crowd, reaching over to sign some autographs.

  I shrink away, dropping the fresh pastries on the counter and heading back to the safety of the kitchen. I glance through the little round window at Margot as she plasters a smile on her face.

  I’m starting to get to know her smiles. There’s the polite smile that she uses for fans and interviews. That’s the smile I see most. There’s the sad smile that I see second most often. Sometimes it turns into a bitter grimace, and sometimes it fades away completely.

  Only once or twice have I seen her really smile.

  It makes me want to climb into her brain and clean all the cobwebs away. I want to know why she’s troubled, and carry those burdens for her. I want her to laugh and smile genuinely all the time.

  Most importantly, I want her to do those things with me. By my side. Always.


  I watch her take selfies with fans, sign autographs, and just be the celebrity that she’s always been. She acts with grace and professionalism, but I can see in the curve of her shoulders that she’s tired.

  Meanwhile, I stare through the window in the door as my heart races, afraid to step back out in case a camera flashes in my face.

  Like a coward.

  How can she be so comfortable with so many people clamoring for her attention? How can she smile as dozens of cameras are pointed at her? How does she not feel like a caged animal?

  Turning away from the window, I lean against the bakery wall. For the first time since I spoke to Luca last night, I’m seriously regretting my decision to go out in public with him. I don’t know if I can handle that kind of attention. Doing what Margot is doing right now is my personal idea of hell.

  The door swings open and Margot appears, letting out a deep breath as she puts a hand to her forehead.

  “That was intense,” she sighs.

  “How do you do it?”

  Margot glances at me, arching an eyebrow. “Do what?”

  “Deal with that many people screaming for you. It wasn’t even that many—maybe a couple of dozen? The thought of being out there, in front of that many people and that many cameras…it makes me want to throw up.”

  Margot flashes a smile at me. A real one. “You want to know the truth?”

  I nod.

  “Makes me want to throw up, too.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Somehow I don’t really believe that.”

  She shrugs, turning away from me. “You don’t have to believe me for it to be the truth. Lots of people think lots of things about me that have nothing to do with the truth.”

  Once again, I realize I don’t know Margot LeBlanc at all. I have an image of her in my head, a vision of who she is and what she wants—but I don’t know what she really thinks.

  The only thing I know for sure is that there’s a lot more to her than meets the eye.

  “Can you give me a hand with the trays? Ivy needs more salted caramel cupcakes already.” Margot nods to the walk-in fridge.