The Princess's Christmas Baby

by Louisa George

  ‘I know, I do and I’m so, so grateful, especially to Max because he wasn’t scheduled to come over for the tumour surgery until the fifteenth of December. It’s just hard to leave them. I wish I could stay, I want to. I want to be there when Papa wakes up, I want to be there by my brother’s side, but... I can’t. One of us has to be at home.’

  She smiled hesitantly, looking for reassurance, which he gave her with a nod rather than tell her all the things that could go wrong in her father’s recovery from the accident and his brain tumour from now on. She needed his support and that was what he was going to give her. She looked so vulnerable he wanted to wrap her in his arms and make her feel safe, or better, or...something. Instead, he fell into step with her towards the departure gate.

  ‘You’re doing the right thing.’ He actually had no idea if she was...he couldn’t imagine what the right thing was in this situation, but she was following her heart and her royal instincts and he had to make sure she felt supported in that.

  She nodded. ‘And Dom said he misses me.’

  ‘I told you he would. If not for the accident, this time in Seattle would have been a good chance for you to get to know each other again.’

  ‘We’ve communicated more in the last couple of days than we have in months. I just wish it was under better circumstances.’ She gave Lucas an uncertain smile at the use of his words from yesterday and she softened a little, her good hand on his arm. ‘Once we know what our plan is we’ll talk to him, okay? I don’t want you to feel bad about your friendship because of me.’

  ‘I own this, Giada. This is on me, just as much as you. It takes two. We’re in this together.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She blinked up at him then, her beautiful eyes shimmering, and he realised just how much she’d been hoping for that kind of reaction to her news. He could see how desperately she wanted him to be happy about the baby while all along he’d been thinking only about how all this affected him and his life and relationships. Yeah. Great. Selfish jerk.

  He swiped his ticket in the machine at the gate and started to walk towards the front of the plane, but a buzzing in his pocket made him stop. He looked at his phone. Dom. Damn. Normally, Lucas would be straight onto speaking with his friend, but he let it go to voicemail.

  Guilt rippled through him. He was being a lousy employee and a lousy friend so he had to make sure he was a damned good father.

  * * *

  The flight was long and even though he tried to talk to Giada, the engine sounds, the spacing of their seats and the staff attentiveness meant it just wasn’t an ideal time or place for the kind of conversation they needed. And since Giada slept, he tried to do the same.

  When the aircraft started its descent, he looked out of the window for his first glimpse of Giada’s home: a large island of green in the sparkling deep blue Mediterranean Sea. He knew from both Giada and Dom that it was a fertile land producing an array of fruit and vegetables bursting with flavour and freshness. From this height he could see olive groves and lemon orchards and, as they swooped low on their airport trajectory, hillsides festooned in vines.

  He was also surprised to see a smattering of high-rise tower blocks bearing the names of global accounting companies, indicating a modern, vibrant kingdom with a respectable economy and, in the distance was a shimmering white building on the top of a hill surrounded by acres of greenery. Glittering marble painted orange by the sunset. The palace. Giada’s home.

  His heart started to race. What was in store for him here? How would he be a father to a baby who would grow up here?

  He barely had time to think before they were bustled off the plane and through the private exit door at Isola Verde International Airport to be greeted by a woman who looked to be in her early forties, wearing a navy blue trouser suit and standing in front of one of the royal fleet of cars with a small purple and silver flag sticking out of the badge on the bonnet. Well, wow.

  Giada greeted the woman with a warm handshake. ‘Ciao, Maria!’

  The woman dipped a curtsey with Giada’s hand clasped in hers and replied in Isola Verdian.

  Lucas coughed. Wow again. A curtsey. He hadn’t even thought about that. Giada turned to glance at him, a smile hovering on her lips, before she addressed the woman in English, he suspected for his benefit. ‘This is Lucas Beaufort. He’ll be staying with us for a little while.’

  ‘Of course, ma’am.’ The woman nodded to Lucas and shook his extended hand. ‘Welcome to Isola Verde, Mr Beaufort.’

  ‘Dr Beaufort,’ Giada interjected. ‘Lucas, this is Maria, my private secretary and all-round wing woman.’

  Lucas nodded. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Ah. Your arm, ma’am?’ Maria asked, her face creasing in concern as she looked at the sling. ‘You needed a doctor to travel with you. Is it bad?’

  But Giada laughed. ‘It’s not broken. I’m fine. Lucas is here as my guest, not as my doctor. We’re keeping his visit low-key. As in let’s not mention it to my brother should he call.’

  ‘Understood, ma’am.’ Maria opened the car door for Giada to get in and was about to do the same for Lucas but he shook his head and motioned for her to get into the driver’s seat. He walked round to the other side of the car and settled Giada into her seat, making sure the seatbelt went over the undamaged part of her collarbone and carefully cradled her belly.

  ‘Lucas,’ she whispered, ‘I’m not made of porcelain, I’m not going to break.’

  But even so, he could see the gratitude in her eyes for his care.

  ‘Let’s just be careful, okay? Precious cargo.’ Wanting to touch his hand to her belly right there, to feel the life inside her, to protect it from any ensuing danger, he quickly swallowed and leaned across her, snapping the seatbelt in place, telling himself it was simply because she’d struggle to do it with her sore arm. But as he stretched back across her their eyes met.

  He was momentarily frozen by the intensity of her gaze. The warm dark brown that had danced with carefree joy three months ago was now filled with concern and confusion. Nevertheless, even in this state her gaze took him back to the beach, to that teasing manner and her insistence they play. To that first touch of her lips.

  His eyes lingered over her mouth. She licked her bottom lip and desire shot through him like a bolt of electricity.

  She felt it too, he could see. Saw the flare of desire, watched as the wall of aloofness she’d been cloaked in since they’d got up that morning start to crumble.

  ‘Lucas.’ Another whisper against his neck.

  He jerked his hand from her thigh where it had rested after he’d clipped the seatbelt then took his place next to her, shaken to the core by the intensity not just of desire but of...emotion. Something about this woman made him want to protect her, to let down his guard. It wasn’t just the fact she was having his baby, it was more than that...it was her endearing desire to do the right thing, to put on a brave face, to carry everyone’s burden, all mixed up with the playful woman he’d known three months ago, the one who’d accepted him, flaws and all, the woman he wanted to find again.

  But going back to that would be impossible. He clipped on his seatbelt and vowed to keep a tight hold on his self-control for the rest of the trip.

  * * *

  Giada concentrated on being a tour guide instead of dwelling on the desire washing through her at his touch. She’d been too aware of the press of his hand on her thigh, the way his scent filled the car, the gravity of his gaze that was at once forbidding and enticing.

  He was struggling with all of this; they both were. But here in Isola Verde she was the host and the Princess, and she’d have to work out the problem that was her attraction to Lucas and the connection that sparked whenever she looked at him.

  They drove first through the old town of narrow streets and cobblestones that were as familiar to her as breathing. She watched his face as he took in the ancient b
uildings and vibrant marketplace bustling with activity. Loved the way his eyes lit up at the pretty marina and the children playing soccer in the street, dodging traffic and laughing as if they had no cares in the world.

  Ah, bella Isola Verde. Even with everything clashing in her head and her heart, it felt good to be home and for the millionth time in her life she wondered, with a sharp pain stabbing her chest, how Domenico could have stayed away for so long.

  She busied herself pointing out places of interest, wanting Lucas to see the beauty she saw here, wanting him to fall in love with the place the way she loved it. Wanting him to fall in love with their baby, too. She wanted him to fall—

  No.

  Her heart hammered at the direction her mind had taken. Falling in love with Lucas was not her plan. They were too different, had too many issues to overcome—wanting anything long term was completely irrational. She’d armoured her heart against getting involved with another man. Vowed to keep everyone at an emotional arm’s length, the way her father had taught her, the way he’d lived. No show of emotion, no attachment. Cool and distant.

  And, okay, she couldn’t do cool and distant because she liked fun too much—she had far too much of her mother’s DNA not to make the best of everything—but being broken and burnt had also taught her to keep her heart out of any romantic adventure ever again.

  Her people had started decorating the buildings for Christmas with heavy, colourful garlands strung between the houses and across the narrow streets. Some of the shop windows already had nativity displays with miniature statues of the baby in the manger watched over by sparkling silver angels. One thing Isola Verde did really well was Christmas. She just hoped it would be a happy one for them all, hoped her father would be recovered and well for another year of his reign. And hoped Dom would have come to terms with his destiny.

  ‘This part of the city is almost nine hundred years old. We can trace our family right back to the birth of our nation when the first Alessandro arrived here from Rome, claiming the island as his and declaring himself Alessandro the First. He built the cathedral.’ She pointed to a magnificent marble building built in the black and white style of Florence’s Duomo and felt a punch of pride for her country and its history.

  ‘Later, his grandson opened the first real school here. We have an excellent education system and the Royal family have been both benefactors and beneficiaries of it. Both Dom and I went to school here. Obviously, Papa gave Domenico permission to go to medical school in the States, but I...well, let’s say I just about scraped through the Isola Verde version of the Baccalaureate. Traditionally, Royal children stay on the island for their schooling...’

  She left the rest of the sentence hanging. It was expected that Royal children go to school here but how would Lucas respond to that? He’d said they needed to talk and that she had to consult him, which was fair, but what about ancient traditions and protocol?

  ‘I see.’ His eyebrows rose. ‘I went to my local school too, as did my brother and sister. Then to Downing College, Cambridge. It’s expected that all Beauforts go there, too.’

  ‘I see.’ She echoed his own response. ‘I know Cambridge is an excellent university. Did you all study the same thing? Are you descended from a long line of doctors the way I’m descended from a long line of royalty?’

  ‘No.’ Something crossed his face, a shadow of pain. Then it was gone with a shake of his head. ‘But I’d like to think my child could choose their own path.’

  ‘Sometimes you don’t get a choice about who you are.’ But there was truth in what he was saying. Dom had railed against the path that had been forced upon him from birth and look where that had got them—barely seeing him for over a decade, a dash across the world, a skid on black ice and a lot of heartache. But there was something else in Lucas’s words that jarred. ‘Didn’t you want to study medicine?’

  ‘On the contrary, medicine was all I ever wanted to do.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘It isn’t always in a child’s best interests to have their future mapped out for them. Even a royal prince or princess.’

  Her eyes darted to Maria and she lowered her voice. Her secretary was completely discreet, always, but there were some things she wasn’t ready to share. Yet. ‘You’re referring to Dom?’

  ‘I’m referring to experience.’

  ‘Lucas, I don’t understand. What happened?’

  He shook his head and looked out of the window. ‘It’s of no consequence, Giada. Only, hypothetically speaking, if I ever were to have a child...’ he glanced at Maria ‘...I would need to have an equal say in where it went to school. As would the child.’

  ‘Okay. Right. Good to know. I’ll take your opinion into account.’

  ‘You’ll do more than that.’ He glared at her.

  Giada bristled with frustration. Controlling her irritation and disappointment, she raised her voice. ‘Maria, straight to the palace, please.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HOW WERE THEY going to navigate the rest of their child’s life if they couldn’t even agree on one simple thing?

  But, then, none of this was simple. Lucas was already too aware of that. Trying to swallow the frustration emanating through him, he climbed out of the car and gaped at the huge glittering stone and marble palace.

  The argument melted from his mind as he took in the scale of the place, the breathtaking beauty and purity of the white stone and the striking regal purple and silver flag that fluttered proudly in the unexpectedly warm breeze.

  He hadn’t been sure what to expect but the palace and its grounds were beyond anything he’d imagined. A grand tree-lined avenue opened to a central three-storey building with a stepped roof and ornate central green dome. Spreading out east and west from the centre dome were large angled wings, two, as far as he could see, but possibly more. He lost count of the number of windows...too many, so many, indicating a labyrinth of rooms and corridors inside.

  ‘It’s...’ he ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, lost for words all over again ‘...magnificent.’

  Giada gave him a side-eye. ‘Oh, you know, it’s a bit cramped but it’ll do.’

  ‘How many rooms?’

  ‘Two hundred and thirty-two.’ She laughed. ‘But you don’t have to visit them all. Most of them are dull anyway, just formal state rooms and galleries. Don’t worry about your bags, Paulo will carry them up for you.’

  Lucas grimaced, unsure how he felt about having people to do his bidding. ‘I can manage my own bag, Giada.’

  ‘Very well. It’s up to you, of course. I’ve asked Maria to put you in the Napoli suite. You should be comfortable there.’

  He wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable anywhere here. Sure, it was luxurious but...overwhelmingly huge. ‘How do you ever find your way around?’

  ‘You learn. Places you can go, places you can’t. There are shortcuts, corridors, secret tunnels.’ She winked, clearly more relaxed to be in familiar surroundings. Their clash about schooling was still a bruise in his memory. They would come back to it eventually, along with all the other things they’d need to discuss, including things he no doubt hadn’t even thought of yet. But for now he needed to get his bearings.

  As if she’d read his mind, she smiled. ‘I’ll give you a tour later. First, I have a couple of meetings I need to get to. I’ll be back for dinner.’

  ‘You have meetings now? You’ve been on the go since dawn. When are you going to rest, Giada?’

  ‘I slept on the flight. Well, a little.’ Her eyes were edged with shadows, but her smile was warm and grateful at his words as if she’d been waiting, again, for him to show he cared about the baby. ‘Okay. I’ll make sure I rest later, I promise. After the meetings. I need to brief the staff and we need to make a statement about the accident. It’s not right to keep secrets for too long: you always get found
out in the end.’

  He knew that well enough.

  ‘Ah, here’s Paulo. He’ll show you to your room.’ She said something in Isola Verdian to the uniformed young man who gave a low bow. The man nodded and turned, clipping his heels together, and indicated for Lucas to follow him. Giada patted his arm. ‘Feel free to explore. The gardens are amazing.’ She was swept away by Maria, ascending the white stone steps two at a time, and then she was swallowed up by the huge building.

  And, before he had a chance to look at his surroundings, he was whisked through a security system exactly like the one at the airport, complete with X-ray machine, up a set of stairs, through myriad doors and corridors to his suite.

  He stood for a moment, taking it all in—a drawing room, bedroom, bathroom and modern kitchen, all beautifully decorated with a mix of period furniture and contemporary features like a huge TV, internet modem and surround speaker system.

  All very nice, but where did Giada live? Was she close to here? Where was her suite? Did she need his help?

  Then he smiled to himself at the memory of her playful expression when she’d mentioned secret corridors. He’d bet she’d had fun navigating them when she was younger.

  Ah, Giada. Gigi. His heart twisted. Why was this all so damned complicated?

  After showering, he dressed in casual jeans and a shirt, choosing clothes more suitable for a temperate winter than his thick Seattle coat and boots.

  And waited.

  * * *

  No one came and no one rang, so he decided to explore. Hell, it wasn’t as if he stayed in a palace every day. He ventured down a sweeping staircase and couldn’t help whistling in admiration at the vast entrance hall with a painted fresco on the roof that he was pretty sure was frosted in real gold. Everywhere he turned he saw artwork from famous artists he’d actually heard of, bronzes, statues and porcelains on plinths. There was even a huge marble fountain with a statue of a Roman god in the centre that would have filled up the whole square footage, and more, of the first floor of his Denny-Blaine house.