A Royal Baby Surprise

by Cat Schield

  Because the car windows were tinted, Nic had no idea anyone besides the driver was in the vehicle. Therefore, when he spotted Gabriel sitting in the backseat and grinning at him, Nic was overcome by an unexpected rush of joy.

  “Good heavens, what are you doing here?” Nic embraced his brother as Stewart closed the door, encasing the princes in privacy.

  “It’s been three years since you’ve come home and you have to ask? I’ve missed you.”

  The genuine thrum of affection in Gabriel’s voice caught Nic off guard. As tight as the triplets had been as children, once on their divergent paths, circumstances and distance had caused them to drift apart. Nic hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his older brother until this moment.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” The car began to move as Nic asked after the youngest of the three brothers. “How’s Christian?”

  “Unpredictable as always. Right now he’s in Switzerland talking to a company that might be interested in bringing a nanotechnology manufacturing plant here.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Nic couldn’t help but wonder at the timing of Christian’s absence given the series of events his mother had designed for the purpose of finding brides for her sons. “When is he due back?”

  “In time for the wedding or Mother will skin him alive.”

  “And the rest of the parties and receptions?”

  Gabriel laughed. “All eyes will be on you.”

  Nic marveled at the change in his earnest brother. Although young Gabriel had been as full of curiosity and mischief as Nic and Christian, somewhere around his tenth birthday it had hit him that the leadership of the country would one day be his. Almost overnight, while his inquisitive nature had remained, he’d become overly serious and all too responsible.

  “You’re different,” Nic observed. “I don’t remember the last time you were this...”

  “Happy?” Gabriel’s eyes glinted. “It’s called wedded bliss. You should try it.”

  A woman had done this to Gabriel? “I’m looking forward to meeting your wife.”

  “And speaking of fair women, what happened to your Brooke?”

  “She’s not my Brooke.” Nic heard gravel in his voice and moderated his tone. “And she’s staying in the plane until it’s taxied into the hangar.”

  “Your idea or hers?”

  “Hers. She was concerned that she wasn’t dressed properly and wanted to maintain a low profile.”

  Gabriel’s eyes widened in feigned shock. “What was she wearing that she was so unpresentable?”

  “I don’t know. Some sort of cotton dress. She thought she looked like someone’s poor relation.”

  “Did she?”

  Nic thought she looked carefree and sexy. “Not at all, but what do I know about women’s fashion?”

  The two men fell to talking about recent events including the incident where the vengeful aunt of Gabriel’s twin daughters had infiltrated the palace intending to stop him from marrying Olivia.

  “And you have no idea where she’s gone?” Nic quizzed, amazed how much chaos one woman had created.

  “Interpol has interviewed her former employer and visited her flat in Milan, but for now she’s on the run.”

  As the car entered the palace grounds, Nic’s mind circled back to the woman he’d left at the airport. “Have you told anyone besides Stewart that I brought Brooke with me?”

  “Olivia and her secretary, Libby, know. They are prepared to take charge of her as soon as she arrives.”

  “Thank you.” Nic was relieved that Brooke would be taken care of.

  “Oh, and Mother is expecting you in the blue drawing room for tea. She has an hour blocked out for you to view the first round of potential wives. Stewart interviewed several secretary candidates for you. Their résumés will be waiting in your room. Look them over and let Stewart know which you’d like to meet.”

  “A secretary?”

  “Now that you’re back, we’ve packed your agenda with meetings and appearances. You’ll need someone to keep you on schedule.”

  Nic’s head spun. “Damn,” he muttered. “It feels as if I never left.”

  Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

  * * *

  From the backseat of a luxurious Mercedes, Brooke clutched her worn travel bag and watched the town of Carone slip past. In the many years she’d known Nic, which she’d spent alternately being ignored and rejected, she’d never once been as angry with him as she was at this moment.

  What had he been thinking to bring her to Sherdana? She didn’t belong here. She didn’t fit into his world the way he’d fit into hers. No doctorate degrees could prepare her for the pitfalls of palace life. She’d be dining with his family. What fork did she use? She would stand out as the uncouth American accustomed to eating burgers and fries with her fingers. Brooke frowned as she considered how many of her favorite foods didn’t require a knife and fork. Pizza. Tacos. Pulled pork sandwiches.

  And what if she couldn’t get a flight out in the next day or two? As Nic’s guest, would she be expected to attend any of the parties his mother had arranged? Were they the sort of parties where people danced? Nic had already shown her a dance specific to the country. They’d laughed over her inability to master the simplest of steps. She’d never imagined a time when she’d be expected to perform them.

  And the biggest worry of all: What if someone discovered she was pregnant? Now that morning sickness was hitting her hard, what excuse could she make to explain away the nausea?

  Brooke gawked like any tourist as the car swung through a gate and the palace appeared. Nic had grown up here. The chasm between them widened even further. It was one thing to rationalize that her brother’s business partner was in reality the prince of a small European country. It was another to see for herself.

  During her year abroad in Italy she’d been fortunate enough to be invited to several palaces. A few of the older volumes of Italian literature she’d used in her doctoral thesis had been housed in private collections and she’d been lucky enough to be allowed the opportunity to study them. But those residences had been far less grand and much smaller than the enormous palace she was heading toward right now.

  The car followed a circular driveway around a massive fountain and drew up in front of the palace’s wide double doors. Surprise held Brooke in place. Given her stealthy transfer from the royal private plane to this car, she’d half expected to be dropped off at the servants’ back entrance.

  A man in a dark blue suit stepped forward and opened the car door. Brooke stared at the palace doors, unable to make her legs work. One of the tall doors moved, opening enough to let a slim woman in a burgundy suit slip through. Still unsure of her circumstances, Brooke waited as the woman approached.

  “Dr. Davis?” She had a lovely soft voice and a British accent. “I’m Libby Marshall, Princess Olivia’s private secretary.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Brooke still hadn’t budged from the car. “Nic didn’t mention he intended to bring me here when we left his villa this morning so I’m not really sure about all this.”

  The princess’s secretary smiled. “Don’t worry, all has been arranged. Princess Olivia is looking forward to meeting you. Armando will take your bag. If you will follow me.”

  If she hadn’t flown hundreds of miles in a private jet, Brooke might have been giddy at the thought that a princess was looking forward to meeting her. Instead, it was just one more in a series of surreal experiences.

  Brooke slipped from the car and let herself gawk at the sheer size of the palace. Her escort moved like someone who knew better than to keep people waiting and had disappeared through the tall doors by the time Brooke surrendered her meager possessions to Armando. She trotted to catch up, but slowed as soon as she stepped insid
e.

  The palace was everything she’d expected. Thirty feet before her a black-and-white marble floor ended in a wide staircase covered in royal blue carpet. The stairs were wide enough to let an SUV pass. They were split into two sections. The first flight ascended to a landing that then split into separate stairs that continued their climb to the second floor.

  She envisioned dozens of women dressed in ball gowns of every color, gliding down that staircase, hands trailing along the polished banister, all coming to meet Nic as he stood, formally dressed, on the polished marble at the bottom of the stairs awaiting them. His gaze would run along the line of women, his expression stern and unyielding as he searched for his perfect bride.

  Brooke saw herself bringing up the rear. She was late and the borrowed dress she wore would be too long. As she descended, her heel would catch on her hem. Two steps from the bottom, she’d trip, but there would be no Nic to catch her. He was surrounded by five women each vying for his attention. Without him to save her, she would make a grab for the banister and miss.

  Flashes would explode in her eyes like fireworks as dozens of press cameras captured her ignominy at a hundred frames per second.

  “Dr. Davis?” Libby peered at her in concern. “Is something amiss?”

  Brooke shook herself out of the horrifying daydream and swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. “Call me Brooke. This is—” Her gaze roved around the space as maids bustled past with vases of flowers and two well-dressed gentlemen strode by carrying briefcases and speaking in low tones. “Really big. And very beautiful,” she rushed to add.

  “Come. Princess Olivia is in her office.”

  Normally nervous energy would have prompted Brooke to chatter uncontrollably. But as she followed Libby past the stairs and into a corridor, she was too overwhelmed. They walked past half a dozen rooms and took a couple more turns. In seconds, her sense of direction had completely failed her.

  “You really know your way around.” She’d lost the battle with her nerves. “How long have you worked in the palace?”

  “A few months. I arrived with Princess Olivia.”

  “Be honest. How long did it take until you no longer got lost?”

  Libby shot a wry smile over her shoulder. “Three weeks.”

  “I’m only expecting to be here a couple days. I don’t suppose there’s a map or something.”

  “I’m afraid not. And I was under the impression that you’d be with us until after the wedding.”

  Brooke stumbled as she caught the edge of her sandal on the marble floor. “That’s not what Nic and I agreed to.” But in fact, she wasn’t sure if they’d discussed the length of her stay. It certainly couldn’t stretch to include a royal wedding.

  “I could be mistaken,” Libby told her, turning into an open doorway.

  The office into which Brooke stepped was decorated in feminine shades of cream and peach, but the functional layout spoke of productivity. On her entrance, a stunning blonde looked up from her laptop and smiled.

  “You must be Dr. Davis,” the woman exclaimed, rising to greet her. She held out a manicured hand. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Olivia Alessandro.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, as well.” The urge to curtsy overwhelmed Brooke and only the knowledge that she’d fall flat on her face if she tried kept her from acting like an idiot. “Your Highness.”

  “Oh, please call me Olivia. You’re Nic’s friend and that makes you like family.”

  It was impossible not to relax beneath Olivia’s warm smile. “Please call me Brooke. I have to tell you that I’m a little overwhelmed to be here. This morning I was on a Greek island with no real destination in mind. And then Nic informs me that he intends to bring me to Sherdana.”

  “Something tells me he didn’t plan much in advance, either.” The way Olivia shook her head gave Brooke the impression that the future queen of Sherdana believed strongly in preparation and organization.

  “Your secretary mentioned something about me staying until after your wedding,” Brooke said, perching on the edge of the cream brocade chair Olivia gestured her into. “But I think it would be better if I caught a flight to California as soon as possible.”

  “I’m sure that could be arranged, but couldn’t you stay for a while and see a little of the country? Gabriel and I have plans to tour some of the vineyards in a couple days and it would be lovely if you and Nic could join us.”

  “As nice as that sounds...” Brooke trailed off. Never before had she hesitated to speak her mind, but being blunt with Nic’s sister-in-law seemed the wrong thing to do. “I’m just worried about overstaying my welcome.”

  “Nonsense.”

  Brooke tried again. “I got the impression from Nic that his mother had arranged quite a few events in the next week or so that he’s expected to attend. I wouldn’t want to distract Nic from what he needs to do.”

  Olivia looked surprised. “You know why he came home?”

  “He needs to get married so there can be...” It suddenly occurred to Brooke that the woman who was supposed to produce Sherdana’s next generation of heirs but couldn’t was seated across from her.

  “It’s okay.” Olivia’s smile was a study in tranquillity. “I’ve made peace with what happened to me. And I consider myself the luckiest woman alive that Gabriel wanted to marry me even though I wasn’t the best choice for the country.”

  “I think you’re the perfect princess. Sherdana is damned lucky to have you.” Brooke grimaced at her less than eloquent language. “Sorry. I have a tendency to be blunt even when I’m trying not to.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It was a lovely compliment and I like your directness. I can’t wait for you to meet Ariana. She has a knack for speaking her mind, as well.”

  “I saw her artwork at the villa. She’s very talented. I’m looking forward to talking with her about it.”

  “She’s been vacationing with friends in Monaco for a few days and is expected home late tonight. She’s very excited that you’ve come to visit. When I spoke with her earlier today, she told me she’d met your brother when he and Nic stayed at the villa.”

  That was something else Glen had neglected to mention. Brooke intended to have a long chat with her brother when she returned to California.

  “And now, I expect you would like to go to your room and get settled. Dinner will be served at seven. If you need anything let a maid know and she can get it for you.”

  Brooke gave a shaky laugh. “Like a whole new wardrobe? I’m afraid I packed to visit a Greek island. Casual things.” She imagined showing up to dinner in her tribal print maxi and winced. “I really don’t have anything I could wear to dine in a palace.”

  “Oh.” Olivia nodded. “I should have realized that from the little Gabriel told me. It looks like you and I are the same size, I’ll send some things down for you to choose from.”

  Unsure whether to be horrified or grateful, Brooke could see protesting was foolish so she thanked Olivia. Then she followed a maid through the palace in a journey from the royal family’s private wing to the rooms set aside for guest use. After five minutes of walking Brooke knew she’d never find her way back to Olivia’s office and hoped someone would be sent to fetch her for dinner. If her presence in the palace was forgotten and she starved to death, how long would it take before her body was discovered? She lost count how many doors they passed before the maid stopped and gestured for Brooke to enter a room.

  “Thank you.”

  The instant Brooke stepped into the bedroom she’d been given, she fell instantly in love. The wallpaper was a gold-and-white floral design while the curtains and bedding were a pale blue green that made her think of an Ameraucana chicken egg. In addition to a bed and a writing desk, the room held a settee and a small table flanked by chairs against the wall between two enormous windows. The r
oom had enough furniture to comfortably seat the students in her class on Italian Renaissance poetry.

  On the bench at the foot of her bed sat her well-worn luggage. To say it looked shabby among the opulent furnishings was an understatement.

  “Can I unpack that for you, Dr. Davis?” The maid who’d brought Brooke here had followed her into the room.

  “I’ve been traveling for quite a few days already and most of what’s in here is dirty.”

  Brooke sensed that she would scandalize the maid by inquiring if there was a laundry machine she could use.

  “I’ll sort through everything and have it back to you by evening.”

  Brooke dug through the bag and pulled out her toiletries and the notebook she always kept close by to write down the things that popped into her head. Her mother was fond of saying you never knew when inspiration would strike and some of Brooke’s best ideas came when she was in the shower or grabbing a bite to eat.

  Once the maid had left, Brooke picked up her cell phone and checked the time in California. At four o’clock in Sherdana it would be 7:00 a.m. in LA. Theresa would be halfway to work. Brooke dialed.

  When Theresa answered, Brooke said, “Guess where I am now...”

  * * *

  Nic hadn’t been in the palace more than fifteen minutes before his mother’s private secretary tracked him down in the billiards room where he and Gabriel were drinking Scotch and catching up. The room had four enormous paintings depicting pivotal scenes in Sherdana’s history, including the ratification of the 1749 constitution that was creating such chaos in Nic’s personal life.

  “Good afternoon, Your Highnesses.” A petite woman in her midfifties stood just inside the door with her hands clasped at her waist.

  Gwen had come to work for the queen as her personal assistant not long before the three princes had been born and more often than not, regarded the triplets as errant children rather than remarkable men.

  “Hello, Gweny.”

  “None of that.”

  Nic crossed the room to kiss her cheek. “I missed you.”