Prince's Pregnant Princess

by Ana Adams

  But keeping her in the shadows was a moot point if she wouldn’t see him, wouldn’t even speak to him on the phone.

  He ground his jaw as he mulled it over. Static tension had been making a slow crescendo inside him. The lack of her, the lack of their lovemaking…whatever it was, it would push him to do something drastic, and very soon. He could feel it like the shift of the weather before a storm.

  After an uneventful ride through rush hour, Mr. Pike was nearing the neighborhood of the dinner date. Adrien checked his watch. He was a little late, but hopefully fashionably so. He could give a shit, really. Maybe his blind date would just wander away on her own. That way, he’d be able to rationalize the unexpected stop at Clara’s apartment.

  Mr. Pike pulled up to the curb about a block away from the restaurant. The road ahead was blocked due to construction, orange barrels prohibiting their passage.

  “It’s right up there,” Mr. Pike said, his deep voice always surprising when he decided to speak. He gestured with long, weathered fingers toward the hidden entrance to the restaurant, a bit down the hill toward the water.

  “Thanks for the ride.” Adrien clapped his shoulder and slid out of the car. “Be back here around 9. And enjoy your own seafood dinner in the meantime.”

  Mr. Pike nodded, the driver’s-side window rolling up and obscuring his impassive face from view. Adrien adjusted his belt, watching the car roll away. He took a deep breath of the salty, bay air; the evening was gorgeous, despite jet lag and the anxiety that had plagued him all day. He strolled down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, eyes fixated on the sparkling waters of the horizon.

  Nearing the restaurant, the sidewalk traffic grew denser. A crowd mulled around the entrance; thank god for reservations, but this meant finding his date in the sea of people was going to be an awkward, maybe even embarrassing task.

  Well-dressed couples sat on benches or paused near the landscaping to view the bay as the crowd lingered near the doorway. He paused near the perimeter, gnawing the inside of his cheek as he scanned the fray. Who was he looking for again? And what did she look like?

  He pulled out his phone, swiping quickly to Clara’s e-mail. He glanced again at the crowd, searching for any overtly single ladies. A brunette? Maybe that’s what she was. At least twenty brunette heads bobbed around in the crowd. Like that helped at all.

  After scanning the e-mail attachment for the embedded image, he looked around the crowd again. Her picture suggested a tall, lithe young thing, vaguely supermodel, thin brown hair and a waxy smile. Pocketing the phone, he strolled a bit farther down the sidewalk, keeping alert for his date. The rule, according to Clara, was that he always met the date outside. Always.

  So she had to be here. Somewhere.

  Or maybe this would be the perfect excuse to e-mail Clara that her date was a no-show, which meant she had to see him that night.

  Oh, Clara. His skin prickled just thinking about her. Nearly everyone around reminded him of her somehow—a spied long glance, a haughty laugh, an overheard snort, the low, delicate bun that she liked to gather at the nape of her neck…

  Adrien stiffened, staring at a woman near the front door. Her back was to him, speaking with the host. Her light brown hair was gathered in an elegant, loose bun at the nape of her neck, a shapely figure hugged by a black dress that he swore he’d seen plenty of times before. Calves flexed and shimmered in low heels; bright pink fingernails peeked out from the fist around the handle of her handbag. His chest tightened. She couldn’t be…

  The lady turned and his mouth fell open.

  Clara’s smoky eyes greeted him, her cocky smile already taunting him from across the sidewalk.

  ***

  Clara figured she’d give him a few more minutes before walking out on his ass.

  She’d been milling around the packed sidewalk of Le Salmon for a half hour. Thanks to the city bus system, she’d gotten there way earlier than needed; and now, with Adrien fifteen minutes late, she felt like she might pee in the bushes from the anxiety.

  I told you not to miss this, Adrien! She checked her phone for the billionth time, feet already sore from so much heel time. Only this guy was worth it—that was for sure. No other dude on earth—billionaire prince or not—could coax her into this level of getup.

  No other dude was worthy of any of this, really. Excitement made paralyzing steps across her chest again, leaving her breathless. Adrien was the only one. The only one she wanted. The only one that made sense.

  Butterflies made eager turns in her belly, reminding her of all the good news yet to be shared—all the surprises, all the shock. He’d shit himself—he really would. And she couldn’t wait to see it.

  She scanned the crowd, eager to glimpse him before he glimpsed her. He certainly wouldn’t be looking for her, so maybe that would help her spot him first. Far down the sidewalk, a well-groomed pompadour bobbed closer. Black slacks strolled into view, followed by the trademark tan alligator shoes. Her throat tightened. God, she was already crying. She took a long look and then hurried to the host.

  “LaCroix party is here,” she said, her breath sliding out low and hurried. She gulped. “We’re almost ready to be seated.”

  The host’s smile looked strained. “Are you not ready now?”

  Clara glanced behind her; he was on the periphery now, looking around like a lost puppy. God, he was so cute when he looked like that. He was so cute when he looked like anything. His baby was growing inside of her.

  “One moment. Let me retrieve my partner.” She drew a low breath. The time was now. Spinning on her heels, her eyes met his immediately, like two magnets drawn to each other. His jaw dropped. Score. She strutted coolly toward him, as coolly as she could with the heels.

  “About time you showed up.” She fought the grin that threatened to take over her whole face, the whole world if she let it. Her heart was beating like a rabbit’s. “I thought you were going to stand up poor ol’ Angela, or whatever that name was I made up.”

  Adrien stood, gape-mouthed, for another moment before he rushed toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug that lifted her off the ground.

  She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, kicking a heel behind her like Marilyn Monroe. His chest heaved against hers, breath coming out in hot puffs at her ear.

  “Oh my god.” He set her down gently on the ground, not releasing her from the hug. “Oh my god, you don’t know how happy I am.”

  “I think I might have some idea.” She squeezed him closer to her, relishing the smell of him, cologne and refined man—the scent sinking so deeply into her that she almost toppled. “I fucking missed you.”

  “Same.” He buried his face in her neck. “Oh, god, the same. I’ve missed you so much I was sick. Clara, I love you.”

  His words exploded like fireworks inside her, a truth and passion that her body instantly recognized, twin flames greeting each other in union. Tears pricked at her eyes. “I love you too, Adrien.”

  “Um, excuse me?” The host stood awkwardly behind them, holding menus and looking worriedly at them. “I need to seat you, if you don’t mind. We have a long line.”

  Adrien loosened his grip and she wiped at her eyes, clearing her throat. “Sorry. Yes, we’re ready.”

  She reached for his hand and he took it, holding it tightly as they wound through the crowd and through the front door. When they crossed the threshold, Adrien’s grip on her tightened, bringing her back toward him. He pulled her into a kiss, pressing his lips hard against hers, the urgency choking her.

  The host cleared his throat.

  “Sorry.” Adrien nudged her forward and they continued to their table. When they were presented with their table, Clara slid into her seat, unable to fight the ear-to-ear smile. Adrien sat across from her, still looking starstruck. That was the sort of thing she liked to inspire in a man. The sort of thing she wouldn’t mind inspiring in him for a long, long time.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” He stared at her. “I
was going to come straight over to your house tonight. I couldn’t stand not seeing you. The past nine days have been…”

  “Hell?” She unfolded her napkin, spreading it over her lap. “Yeah, I know. Trust me.”

  “I don’t ever want to be apart from you for that long again.” He reached out for her hand, which she gave. “I felt like a madman. Please don’t do that to me again.”

  “Sometimes a girl needs a little clarity.” She sipped at the water glass with her free hand. “I needed time. I felt so strongly about you. I thought maybe I was just being desperate, or clouded. Or something.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles as she spoke, watching her raptly. A server appeared, offering a bottle of wine. Adrien waved for two glasses but Clara stopped him.

  “I won’t have any, thank you.” She smiled sweetly at the waiter. “Water is fine.”

  Adrien lifted a brow as the server poured his glass. “Taking a break from wine?”

  “You could say.” She lifted her water glass demurely, fighting a grin.

  Once the waiter disappeared, he leaned closer. “Is everything okay?”

  She studied his face; she might burst at the seams if she didn’t say it now. “I’m pregnant.”

  His eyes resumed their previous saucer status. Mouth open, he didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he blinked, the smile a mile wide. “Are you fucking serious?”

  She laughed. “I totally am. I don’t know how it happened, but I am. You’re gonna be a daddy.”

  He leapt up from his seat, rushing over to her to capture her mouth in a sloppy, eager kiss. Giggling against him, she welcomed his passion, his excitement, his contagious happiness.

  “We need lots of wine,” he said, signaling a waiter. “And cheesecake. And sparkling water. And everything else we can think of to celebrate. Though this is my last day of drinking alcohol.” He looked pointedly at her. “Solidarity, you know.”

  “There’s one more piece of news,” she said, tracing her finger around the rim of her glass.

  He squinted at her as though trying to imagine what it could be. Finally, his eyes widened. “Don’t tell me. You got the job?”

  She nodded, smiling so wide she thought her face might burst. “I sure did. I start in two weeks for the school year!”

  He whooped, holding his glass up in the air. “Clara, this is the best fucking day of my life.”

  “And you never swear.” She tipped the rest of her water into her mouth and slammed the glass on the table. “We’re gonna be married! And be parents! And between the two of us, we’ve already covered success and royalty, so I don’t see what else there is to conquer.”

  He tossed his head back and laughed, the glee shining bright from his face. “You’ve got that right. Clara, I love you. I am so excited to see where life takes us.”

  She squeezed his hand, tears pricking her eyes. “Together.”

  THE END

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