Harlequin Romance April 2021 Box Set

by Rebecca Winters

  ‘Go on, Mr MacCarthy,’ the queen said.

  Liam glanced at Vittoria. Should this come from him or from her?

  Or perhaps from both of them. He’d said they were a team. Now was their first chance to prove it.

  ‘There is one more thing we need to tell you about,’ he said quietly, and took her hand.

  * * *

  This was the turning point, Vittoria knew. The moment where her family would accept or reject Liam. And it was so, so important that they accepted him.

  ‘One little thing,’ Vittoria said. ‘Nonno, Nonna, Mamma—or perhaps I should say Bisnonno, Bisnonna and Nonna.’

  Just as she’d expected, her grandparents and her mother looked at her in utter shock.

  ‘You’re pregnant?’ Maria asked finally. ‘How pregnant?’

  ‘It’s very early days,’ Vittoria said. ‘I did the test a few days ago. I know Liam and I have done this completely the wrong way round—traditionally it should be marriage, then a coronation, and then a christening. I know we’re disappointing you, and I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Is that why you want to marry my granddaughter, Mr MacCarthy?’ the king asked. ‘Because of the baby?’

  ‘No. I want to marry your granddaughter because I love her,’ Liam repeated. ‘And, even though the baby isn’t planned, he or she will be very much loved. I’m prepared to do my share of changing nappies and getting up in the night.’ His voice thickened slightly as he said, ‘I hope our baby will grow up with a grandmother and great-grandparents who love him or her as much as I know my parents would have loved a grandchild.’

  Vittoria knew that was going to be hard for him, not being able to share his baby with his parents. Just as it would be for her, only being able to share memories and photographs of her father, rather than seeing him give her child a piggyback through his beloved rose garden. ‘And my father,’ she added softly.

  ‘Francesco.’ Maria blinked back tears. ‘Your father loved babies, Rina. Yes, you’re right. He would have loved being a Nonno. And I...’ She shook her head. ‘This wasn’t what I expected to hear today.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, Mamma,’ Vittoria said. ‘I know this isn’t what you and Nonna wanted for me.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Maria said, ‘we were wrong. Maybe love is more important than a shared background.’ She looked at Liam. ‘It’s not going to be easy, but you seem to have both feet on the ground, Mr MacCarthy. Being practical and pragmatic... Those are important qualities in this world.’

  ‘Love is the most important thing,’ Liam said. ‘It’s easy for me to talk. But please don’t judge me now, ma’am. I’d like you all to judge me in a year’s time—when you’ll have seen me prove my words every day. When you’ve seen me change nappies, bring Vittoria co—no, not coffee, because Izzy says my coffee’s terrible, a cup of tea,’ he corrected, making Vittoria smile. ‘When you’ve seen me settle a teething baby, when you’ve seen me noticing that little pleat between her eyes that Vittoria has when she worries about something and I’ve persuaded her to talk to me so I can share her worries and reassure her. When you’ve seen me be there.’

  ‘A year’s time. When we’ll have a baby’s laughter in the palace again,’ Giulia said. ‘And, a year after that, pattering feet. It will be nice to have a child in the garden again.’

  ‘A wedding, a christening and a coronation,’ the king said. He paused, and Vittoria felt the weight of every second. Would her grandfather understand how much she loved Liam? Would her family welcome him? Or was this going to end up rocking the monarchy to its foundations, maybe fracturing it beyond repair?

  ‘Nonno, I hope you won’t make me choose between love and duty. I want both,’ Vittoria said. ‘Liam completes me. With him, I can be myself. I know it’s OK to be vulnerable and I know it’s OK to lean on him. I trust him. I want to share my life with him. I want our children to grow up, secure that they’re loved for themselves.’

  The king said nothing, and this time Vittoria couldn’t read his eyes. He was totally inscrutable.

  ‘I will do whatever it takes to make this work,’ Liam said. ‘But the one thing I will not compromise on is my family. I love Vittoria, and I intend to support her. I’ll learn whatever I need to. But the one thing I can do well is negotiate with the press. If we make friends with them, if we give them stories, they won’t look for faults or gossip. They’ll see a queen who understands her people because she shares the same worries that they do, and they’ll celebrate her. A bride who worries that she’ll trip on the carpet down the aisle, a mum who juggles a busy job with a baby who wakes at three in the morning, a woman who steps up to the top job and wants to do it well so she can lead by example and encourage others to be the best they can be. She isn’t Rapunzel in her ivory tower or Sleeping Beauty waiting to be woken. Vittoria’s part of the modern world, leading her country and making a difference.’

  That was how he saw her? Vittoria wondered. It was a lot to live up to. Daunting.

  Until she looked into Liam’s eyes and saw the love shining out at her. And that gave her the confidence to believe she really was the woman he saw.

  ‘Vittoria,’ Liam finished, ‘will be the best queen ever. And I’ll be with her, every step of the way.’

  And finally, the king smiled. ‘All right. You have my blessing, Mr MacCarthy. Liam.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘I think,’ the king said, ‘in the circumstances you’d better start calling me Nonno.’ He rose to his feet, hugged Vittoria, and then shook Liam’s hand. ‘Congratulations. And welcome to our family.’

  Vittoria’s mother and grandmother hugged them both.

  ‘And now,’ Vittoria’s mother said with a smile, ‘we have a wedding and a christening to plan...’

  EPILOGUE

  A year later

  ‘SO HOW DO I look?’ Vittoria asked, standing in the doorway.

  Liam looked at his wife and his heart skipped a beat. ‘Breathtaking,’ he said. He leant in to whisper in her ear, ‘If it wasn’t for the fact that your schedule’s timed down practically to the second, I’d take you to our room and show you just how gorgeous you look.’

  She grinned. ‘Later. But I wasn’t asking as your wife. How do I look in queenly terms?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Maria said, and deftly scooped the baby from Liam’s arms. ‘Francesca, come to Nonna. Your babbo has to get his camera out and take your mamma’s official coronation photographs.’ She kissed the baby, who gurgled and pulled her hair. ‘Your father would be so proud of you, Vittoria. As am I.’

  ‘She’s beautiful, brave and clever. I think I’m beyond proud,’ Liam said.

  ‘Oh, you two.’ But Vittoria was laughing.

  They’d laughed a lot, this past year. At their wedding, when Liam had scooped her up and danced with her in the palace rose garden. On their honeymoon, when they’d escaped to Liam’s little cottage by the sea and walked at the edge of the sea at sunset, kissing as the first stars came out—except, the second week, it turned out that the rest of the San Rocello royal family had rented a stately home nearby and insisted on joining in the celebrations. He’d taken a lot of photographs of the royal family since the day they’d accepted him as Vittoria’s husband-to-be, but the ones he took that week were his favourites.

  They’d laughed—and cried—when their daughter was born, and agreed that she should be called after both their fathers, Francesca Philippa. The good wishes sent by the people of San Rocello had been humbling in the extreme. Francesca’s christening had been a day of national celebration.

  And now it was Vittoria’s coronation day.

  His beautiful queen.

  It would be a solemn occasion. But Liam intended it to be full of joy. And, later that night, he was going to enjoy taking off her crown and her gown and making love to the Queen of San Rocello for the very first time.


  ‘What are you thinking?’ Vittoria asked.

  He grinned. ‘Not in front of your mother.’

  ‘She’s busy singing to Francesca. She won’t hear.’

  He leaned over and whispered his thoughts in her ear, and his grin broadened when she blushed.

  ‘That’s my queen,’ he said. ‘I love you, Vittoria. Ti amo. Per sempre.’

  * * * * *

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  ISBN-13: 9781488073762

  Surprise Heir for the Princess

  Copyright © 2021 by Pamela Brooks

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  She pressed her lips together. Tom was the only man she’d ever been with and she’d never looked past him, but now something was unraveling, taking hold of her senses. What would it be like with Joel? How would it feel? She wanted to know, needed to know. She took a breath, resting her hands on his chest. “Kiss me...”

  His eyes darted to her mouth, a landscape of light and shade in his eyes. She slid her hands upward, to the sides of his neck and on until she was holding his face. “I want you to.”

  An animal noise rumbled in his throat and then his mouth was on hers. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sweet caress of his lips.

  “Emilie!” It was a ragged exclamation, and then his eyes were on hers. She felt the warm pad of his thumb moving over her cheekbone, a fresh tug of desire drawing tight in her belly. “Have you got any idea what you’re doing to me...?”

  She nodded. Her lips felt used, swollen, still hungry. “I do, because you’re doing it to me, too...”

  Dear Reader,

  I can’t believe that this is my fourth book for Harlequin Romance! I’m having so much fun inventing heartwarming, feel-good reads that I frequently have to pinch myself to check that I’m not dreaming!

  This time we’re off to the British Virgin Islands, to a tiny private island that I happened to see for sale when I was pondering locations for this story. As soon as I saw it, I knew that Buck Island would be the perfect setting for a romance of the “two people thrown together” type.

  This is the first romance I’ve written about a place with which I’m not familiar, so I spent a lot of time researching online: the different beaches, the flora and fauna, places of interest, and so on. It’s amazing how little of what I researched actually made it onto the page but it all feeds into the process, giving me a sense of place as I’m writing. I could draw a detailed map of my reimagined Buck Island and the neighbouring island of Tortola, that’s for sure!

  I hope you love this story as much as I loved writing it.

  Ella x

  Tycoon’s Unexpected Caribbean Fling

  Ella Hayes

  After ten years as a television camerawoman, Ella Hayes started her own photography business so that she could work around the demands of her young family. As an award-winning wedding photographer, she’s documented hundreds of love stories in beautiful locations, both at home and abroad. She lives in central Scotland with her husband and two grown-up sons. She loves reading, traveling with her camera, running and great coffee.

  Books by Ella Hayes

  Harlequin Romance

  Her Brooding Scottish Heir

  Italian Summer with the Single Dad

  Unlocking the Tycoon’s Heart

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  For Phil

  Praise for

  Ella Hayes

  “Ella Hayes has surpassed herself with this delightfully warm romance. It keeps a reader on their toes with its twists and turns. The characters are believable and you can actually visualize the scenes through the exquisite descriptions. This book ambushes your senses and takes the reader on a beautiful journey with heart-stopping moments. A wonderful relaxing read.”

  —Goodreads on Italian Summer with the Single Dad

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  CHAPTER ONE

  EMILIE CLAYTON WRIGGLED her sandy toes and inspected her legs. They were turning a lovely shade of golden brown. She hitched her sarong a little higher and inspected the skin above her knees. That part was tanning nicely too, but exactly how it was happening was a mystery.

  Maybe she’d been catching the sun during her daily walks from the cottage to the house. Not on the path that wove through the gumbo limbo trees, where the sunlight splashed chaotically on to the giant, hand-shaped leaves of the under storey, but rather, on the long upward climb to the rear entrance of the luxury residence where there was no shade at all.

  The sun always felt warm on her bare calves as she made her way up the pale granite steps, so that would probably explain it, although, the motor launch was another possibility. She always wore shorts when she was going over to Tortola for provisions and she never sat under the canopy.

  She rearranged the sarong over her legs and looked up, gazing at the jewel-bright sea and the distant, hazy green hills of the neighbouring Caribbean islands. It didn’t matter anyway. However it was happening, the deepening colour on her legs was completely accidental because there’d been no time for sunbathing since she’d arrived on Buck Island.

  For the past three weeks she’d been flat out in the kitchen, creating exotic dishes to satisfy the exacting clientele. Breakfasts had to consist of a freshly prepared buffet with hot and cold options, lunches had to be light and exquisite, and dinners had to match anything that her former boss, celebrated chef Michel Lefevre, could have produced in his famous London restaurant Le Perroquet. Initially, she’d been nervous, not because she lacked the culinary skills, but because she’d been doing everything herself and she wasn’t used to that. She was used to Tom being there, working around her, anticipating her every move. He’d always had her back in the kitchen, and out of it,
until... Her insides twisted sharply. Tom! Four months had passed since he’d ripped her world apart, but it still hurt because it wasn’t just Tom, it was everything that went with him...

  She hugged her knees in tight, pushing the thoughts away, listening to the rustling palms and the lapping waves and the comical kazoo-like call of a passing seabird. The thing was, in spite of her nerves, she had prevailed—more than prevailed if the compliments in the visitors’ book were anything to go by, so that was something!

  She pushed herself up, brushing off her sarong and tightening it around her waist. Of course, having Melinda there had made a world of difference. With her wide, white smile and her easy, maternal manner, Melinda’s lilting voice and wicked sense of humour had helped to keep her calm, even on the night when the twelve guests, between them, had ordered six different mains.

  She walked towards the water’s edge, feeling a smile unfolding inside. Melinda and her husband, Erris, were so much more than housekeeper and site manager. They were her neighbours—their cottage was five minutes’ walk from her own—but in just three weeks they’d also become dear friends, showing her the ropes, looking after her. They were warm, family-orientated people. Their son, Anton, ran his own SUV hire place in Road Town and was also the most sought-after car mechanic on Tortola. In his spare time, he was a Moko Jumbie stilt-dancing trainer, teaching youngsters as well as performing himself with his troupe. Melinda had shown her videos. Crazy dance moves, fantastic costumes. Her mind had been blown! Anton’s sister, Kesney, ran her own soap-making business using locally harvested sea salt. Kesney and her husband, Will, were expecting their first baby and Melinda and Erris were bursting with excitement. Buck Island was only a short hop from Tortola, but it was clear that they missed being around their loved ones.