A gift for the man who has everything...

A brief, electrifying fling—that was all Sienna McDonald and Sebastian Falco, Crown Prince of Montanari, agreed to. But on her return to Teddy’s, neonatal surgeon Sienna learns she’s brought back more than just memories...

Sienna wants to keep her unborn baby out of the limelight, so Sebastian’s sudden reappearance throws her perfectly ordered world into chaos. She does her best to stay away from the devastatingly charming royal, but Sebastian is determined to claim his family with a forever diamond this Christmas!

Christmas Miracles in Maternity

Hope, magic and precious new beginnings at Teddy’s!

Welcome to Teddy’s Centre for Babies and Birth, where the brightest stars of neonatal and obstetric medicine work tirelessly to save tiny lives and deliver bundles of joy all year round—but there’s never a time quite as magical as Christmas!

Although the temperature might be dropping outside, unexpected surprises are heating up for these dedicated pros! And as Christmas Day draws near, secrets are revealed, hope is ignited and love takes over.

Cuddle up this Christmas with the heartwarming stories of the doctors, nurses, midwives and surgeons at Teddy’s in the Christmas Miracles in Maternity miniseries:

The Nurse’s Christmas Gift by Tina Beckett

The Midwife’s Pregnancy Miracle by Kate Hardy

White Christmas for the Single Mom by Susanne Hampton

A Royal Baby for Christmas

by Scarlet Wilson

All available now!

Dear Reader,

I always love writing Christmas stories—and what could be more fun than having a prince in your Christmas story?

This story is part of a series—Christmas Miracles in Maternity—set in the fictional Teddy’s hospital in the Cotswolds. My heroine is feisty Scotswoman Sienna McDonald. She’s always been focused completely on her career and is a dedicated neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon. Nothing gets between her and her babies!

Prince Sebastian meets Sienna unexpectedly and they spend two electrifying days together. He can’t get her out of his head, even though he’s expected to form an alliance by marrying a princess from another country. When he finds out Sienna is pregnant he’s a man on a mission—to win the heart of the mother of his child!

I love to hear from readers. You can contact me via my website: scarlet-wilson.com.

Happy Christmas!

Scarlet

SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for twenty years, trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.

A Royal Baby For Christmas

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Scarlet Wilson

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

Midwives On-Call at Christmas

A Touch of Christmas Magic

Christmas with the Maverick Millionaire

The Doctor She Left Behind

The Doctor’s Baby Secret

One Kiss in Tokyo...

Mills & Boon Cherish

Tycoons in a Million

Holiday with the Millionaire

A Baby to Save Their Marriage

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

This book is dedicated to my fellow authors

Kate Hardy, Tina Beckett and Susanne Hampton.

It’s been a pleasure working with you, ladies!

Praise for Scarlet Wilson

‘The book is filled with high-strung emotions, engaging dialogue, breathtaking descriptions and characters you just cannot help but love. With the magic of Christmas as a bonus, you won’t be disappointed with this story!’

—Goodreads on A Touch of Christmas Magic

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Booklist

Dedication

Praise

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

May

HIS EYES SCANNED the bar as he ran his fingers through his hair. Six weeks, three countries, ten flights and thousands of miles. He’d been wined and dined by heads of state and consulate staff, negotiated trade agreements, arranged to be part of a water aid initiative, held babies, shaken hands for hours and had a number of tense diplomatic conversations.

All of this while avoiding dozens of calls from his mother about the upcoming royal announcement. His apparent betrothal to his lifelong friend.

All he wanted to do was find a seat, have a drink and clear a little head space. Il Palazzo di Cristallo was one of the few places he could do that. Set in the stunning mountains of Montanari, the exclusive boutique hotel only ever had a select few guests—most of whom were seeking sanctuary from the outside world. The press were banned. The staff were screened and well looked after to ensure all guests’ privacy was well respected—including the Crown Prince of Montanari. For the first time in six weeks Sebastian might actually be able to relax.

Except someone was sitting in his favourite seat at the bar.

There. A figure with shoulders slumped and her head leaning on her hand. Her ash-blonde hair was escaping from its clasp and her blue dress was creased. Two empty glasses of wine sat on the bar in front of her.

The bartender sat down a third and gave Sebastian an almost indiscernible nod. The staff here knew he liked to keep his identity quiet.

Odd. He didn’t recognise the figure. Sebastian knew all the movie stars and celebrities who usually stayed here. She wasn’t a fellow royal or a visiting dignitary. His curiosity was piqued.

He strode across the room and slid onto the stool next to hers at the bar. She didn’t even look up in acknowledgement.

Her fingers were running up and down the stem of the glass and her light brown eyes were unfocused. But it wasn’t the drink. It was deep contemplation.

Sebastian sucked in a breath. Whoever she was, she was beautiful. Her skin was flawless. Her features finer than those of some of the movie starlets he’d been exposed to. Being Prince of Montanari meant that a whole host of women had managed to cross his path over the last few years. Not that he’d taken any of them seriously. He had a duty to his future kingdom. A duty to marry an acceptable neighbouring princess. There was no question about it—it had been instilled in him from a young age it was part of his preparations for finally becoming King. Marriage was a business transaction. It wasn’t the huge love and undying happiness portrayed in fairy tales. There were no rainbows and flying unicorns. It came down to the most advantageous match for the country and his parents had found her. Theresa Mon Carte, his childhood friend and a princess from the neighbouring principality. They were to be married within the year.

Part of the reason he was here was to get some time to resign himself to his fate. Because that was what it felt like.

But right now, he couldn’t think about that at all.

He was entirely distracted by the woman sitting next to him. She looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. There was no Botox here. Her brow was definitely furrowed and somehow he knew this woman would never be interested in cosmetic procedures.

‘Want to tell me about them?’

‘What?’ She looked up, startled at the sound of his voice.

Light brown eyes that looked as if they’d once had a little dark eyeliner around them. It was smudged now. But that didn’t stop the effect.

It was like being speared straight through the heart.

For a second neither of them spoke. It was the weirdest sensation—as if the air around them had just stilled.

He was drinking in everything about her. Her forgotten-about hair. Her crumpled clothes. Her dejected appearance.

But there was something else. Something that wouldn’t let him break their gaze. A buzz. An air. He’d never felt something like this before. And she felt it too.

He could tell. Her pupils dilated just a little before his eyes. He didn’t have any doubt that his were so big right now the Grand Canyon could fit in them.

There was something about her demeanour. This woman was a professional. She was educated. And she was, oh, so sexy.

He found his tongue. ‘Your worries.’ He couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth turn upwards.

She gave the briefest rise of her eyebrows and turned back towards the waiting wine glass. Her shoulders straightened a little. He’d definitely caught her attention.

Just as she’d caught his.

He leaned a little closer and nudged her shoulder. ‘You’re sitting on my favourite bar stool.’

‘Didn’t have your name on it,’ she quipped back.

Her accent. It was unmistakeable. The Scottish twang made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He could listen to that all day. Or all night.

She swung her legs around towards him and leaned one arm on the bar. ‘Come to think of it, you must be kind of brave.’ She took a sip of her wine. Her eyebrows lifted again. ‘Or kind of stupid.’

He liked it. She was flirting back. He leaned his arm on the bar too, so they were closer than ever. ‘What makes you think that?’

She licked her lips. ‘Because you’re trying to get between a Scots girl and the bar.’ She smiled as she ran her eyes up and down the length of his body. It was almost as if she’d reached her fingers out and touched him. ‘Haven’t you heard about Scots girls?’

He smiled and leaned closer. ‘I think I might need a little education.’ He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

Instant attraction. He’d never really experienced it before. Not like this. He’d wanted to come in here to hide and get away from things. Now, his sanctuary had become a whole lot more exciting.

A whole lot more distracting.

His stomach flipped over. What if he never felt like this again? Or even worse, what if he felt like this when he was King of Montanari and married?

Right now he was none of those things. The engagement hadn’t been announced. He was about to step into a life of duty and constant scrutiny.

Theresa was a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. They’d never even shared a kiss.

He hadn’t come here to meet anyone. He hadn’t come here to be attracted to someone.

But right now he was caught in a gaze he didn’t want to escape from. The pull was just too strong.

Something flitted across her eyes. It was as if her confidence wavered for a second.

‘What’s wrong?’ He couldn’t help himself.

She sucked in a breath. ‘Bad day at the office.’

‘Anything to do with a man?’ It was out before he thought.

She blinked and gave a little smile again, pausing for a second. ‘No. Definitely nothing to do with a man.’

It was as if he’d just laid himself bare. Finding out the lie of the land. He couldn’t ignore the warm feeling that spread straight through him.

He had no royal duties this weekend. There were no hands he needed to shake. No business he needed to attend to. He’d told Security he was coming here and to keep their distance.

If he lived to be a hundred he’d remember this. He’d remember this meeting and the way it made him feel. The buzz was so strong the air practically sparkled around her.

He was still single. He could do this. Right now he would cross burning coals to see what would happen next.

He leaned even closer. ‘I came here to get some peace and quiet. I came here to get some head space.’ He gave her a little smile and lowered his voice. ‘But, all of a sudden, there’s no space in my head at all.’

He took a chance. ‘How about I stop searching for some peace and quiet, and you forget all about your bad day?’

She ran her fingers up the stem of her wine glass. He could tell she was thinking. She looked up from beneath heavy eyelids. ‘You mean, like a distraction. An interlude?’

The warm glow in his body started to rapidly rise. He nodded. ‘A distraction.’

She licked her lips again and he almost groaned out loud. ‘I think a distraction might be just what I need,’ she said carefully.

He tried to quieten the cheerleader squad currently yelling in his head.

‘I’ve always wanted to meet a Scots girl. Will you teach me how to wear a kilt?’ He waved to the barman. ‘There are some killer cocktails in here. You look like a Lavender Fizz kind of girl.’

‘I’ll do better than that.’ There was a hint of mischief in her voice. ‘I’ll teach you how to take it off.’

* * *

This wasn’t her life. It couldn’t be. Things like this didn’t happen to Sienna McDonald. But it seemed that in the blink of an eye her miserable, lousy day had just got a whole lot better.

It was the worst kind of day. The kind of day she should have got used to in this line of work.

But a doctor who got used to a baby dying was in the wrong profession.

It had been little Marco’s third op. He’d been failing all the time, born into the world too early with undeveloped lungs and a malformed heart; she’d known the odds were stacked against him.

Some people thought it was wrong to operate on premature babies unless there was a guarantee of a good outcome. But Sienna had seen babies who had next to no chance come through an operation, fight like a seasoned soldier and go on to thrive. One of her greatest successes was coming up on his fourth birthday and she couldn’t be prouder.

Today had been draining. Telling the parents had been soul-destroying. She didn’t usually drown her sorrows in alcohol, but tonight, in a strange country with only herself for company, it was the only thing that would do. She’d already made short work of the accompanying chocolate she’d bought to go with the wine. The empty wrappers were littered around her.

She sensed him as soon as he sat down next to her. There was a gentle waft of masculine cologne. Her eyes were lowered. It was easy to see the muscled thigh through the probably designer trousers. If he was staying in this hotel—he was probably a millionaire. She was just lucky the royal family were footing her bill.

When he spoke, his lilting Mediterranean accent washed over her. Thank goodness she was sitting down. There was something about the accent of the men of Montanari. It crossed between the Italian, French and Spanish of its surrounding neighbours. It was unmistakeable. Unique. And something she’d never forget.

She glanced sideways and once more sucked in her cheeks.

Nope. The guy who looked as if he’d just walked off some film set was still there. Any second now she’d have to pinch herself. This might actually be real.

Dark hair, killer green eyes with a little sparkle and perfect white teeth. She might not have X-ray vision but his lean and athletic build was clear beneath the perfectly tailored suit. If she were back in Scotland she’d tell him he might as well have sex on legs tattooed on his forehead. Too bad she was in a posh kingdom where she had to be a whole lot more polite than that.

He hadn’t responded to her cheeky comment. For a millisecond he looked a little stunned, and then his shoulders relaxed a little and he nodded slowly. He was getting comfortable. Did he think the game was over?

She was just settling in for the ride. She didn’t do this. She didn’t ever do this. Pick up a man in a bar? Her friends would think she’d gone crazy. But the palms of her hands were tingling. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted to know exactly what those lips tasted like.

He was like every erotic dream she’d ever had just handed to her on a plate.

She leaned her head on one hand and turned to face him. ‘Who says I’m a cocktail kind of girl?’

He blinked. Her accent did that to people. It took their ears a few seconds to adjust to the Scottish twang. He was no different from every other man she’d ever met. The edges of his mouth turned upwards at the sound of her voice. People just seemed to love the Scottish accent—even if they couldn’t understand a word she said.

‘It’s written all over you,’ he shot back. He mirrored her stance, leaning his head on one hand and staring at her.

There was no mistaking the tingling of her skin. Part of her stomach turned over. There was a tiny wash of guilt.

Today wasn’t meant to be a happy day. Today was a day to drown her sorrows and contemplate if she could have done anything different to save that little baby. But the truth was she’d already done that. Even if she went back in time she wouldn’t do anything different. Clinically, her actions had been everything they should have been. Little Marco’s body had just been too weak, too underdeveloped to fight any more.

The late evening sun was streaming in the windows behind him, bathing them both in a luminescence of peaches and purples. Distraction. That was what this was. And right now she could do with a distraction.

Something to help her forget. Something to help her think about something other than work. She was due to go home in a few days. She’d taught the surgeons at Montanari Royal General everything she could.

She let her shoulders relax a little. The first two glasses of wine were starting to kick in.

‘I don’t know that I’m a Lavender Fizz kind of girl.’

‘Well, let’s see what kind of girl you are.’ The words hung in the air between them, with a hundred alternative meanings circulating in her mind. This guy was good. He was very good.

She half wished she’d changed after work. Or at least pulled a brush through her hair and applied some fresh make-up. This guy was impeccable, which made her wish she were too. He picked up the cocktail menu, pretending to peruse it, while giving her sideways glances. ‘No,’ he said decidedly. ‘Not gin.’ He paused a second. ‘Hmm, raspberries, maybe. Wait, no, here it is. A peach melba cocktail.’

She couldn’t help but smile as she raised her eyebrows. ‘And what’s in that one?’

He signalled the barman. ‘Let’s find out.’

Her smile remained fixed on her face. His confidence was tantalising. She sipped at her wine as she waited for the barman to mix the drinks.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked as they waited. He held out his hand towards her. ‘I’m Seb.’

Seb. A suitable billionaire-type name. Most of the men in this hotel had a whole host of aristocratic names. Louis. Alexander. Hugo. Augustus.

She reached out to take his hand. ‘Sienna.’

His hand enveloped hers. What should have been a firm handshake was something else entirely. It was gentle. Almost like a caress. But there was a purpose to it. He didn’t let go. He kept holding, letting the warmth of his hand permeate through her chilled skin. His voice was husky. ‘You’ve been holding on to that wine glass too long.’ Before she could reply he continued. ‘Sienna. It doesn’t seem a particularly Scottish name.’

A furrow appeared on his brow. As if he were trying to connect something. After a second, he shook his head and concentrated on her again.

She tried not to fixate on the fact her hand was still in his. She liked it. She liked the way this man was one of the most direct flirts she’d ever met. He could have scrawled his intentions towards her with her lipstick on the mirrored gantry behind the bar and she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid because this was definitely a two-way street.

‘It’s not.’ She let her thumb brush over the back of his hand. ‘It’s Italian.’ She lifted her eyebrows. ‘I was conceived there. By accident—of course,’ she added.

A look of confusion swept his face as the barman set down the drinks, but he didn’t call her on her comment.

Sienna had a wave of disappointment as she had to pull her hand free of his and she turned to the peach concoction on the bar with a glimpse of red near the bottom. She lifted the tiny straws and gave it a little stir. ‘What is this, exactly?’

Those green eyes fixed on hers again. ‘Peach nectar, raspberry puree, fresh raspberries and champagne.’

She took a sip. Nectar was right. It hit the spot perfectly. Just like something else.

‘Are you here on business or pleasure, Sienna?’

She thought for a second. She was proud to be a surgeon. Most men she’d ever met had seemed impressed by her career. But tonight she didn’t want to talk about being a surgeon. Tonight she wanted to concentrate on something else entirely.

‘Business. But it’s almost concluded. I go home in a few days.’

He nodded carefully. ‘Have you enjoyed visiting Montanari?’

She couldn’t lie. Even today’s events hadn’t taken the shine off the beautiful country that she’d spent the last few weeks in. The rolling green hills, the spectacular volcanic mountain peak that overlooked the capital city and coastline next to the Mediterranean Sea made the kingdom one of the prettiest places she’d ever visited. She took another sip of her cocktail. ‘I have. It’s a beautiful country. I’m only sorry I haven’t seen enough of it.’

‘You haven’t?’

She shook her head. ‘Business is business. I’ve been busy.’ She stirred her drink. ‘What about you?’

He had an air about him. Something she hadn’t encountered before. An aura. She assumed he must be quite enigmatic as a businessman. He could probably charm the birds from the trees. At least, she was assuming he was a businessman. He looked the part and every other man she’d met in this exclusive hotel had been here to do one business deal or another.

But for a charmer, there was something else. An underlying sincerity in the back of his eyes. Somehow she felt if the volcanic peak overlooking the capital erupted right now she would be safe with this guy. Her instincts had always been good and it had been a long time since she’d felt like that.

‘I’ve been abroad on business. I’m just back.’

‘You stay here? In this hotel?’

He laughed and shook his head. ‘Oh, no. I live...close by. But I conduct much of my business in this hotel.’ He gave another gracious nod towards the barman. ‘They have the best facilities. The most professional staff. I’m comfortable here.’

It was a slightly odd thing to say. But she forgot about it in seconds as the barman came back to top up their glasses.

She took a deep breath and stared at her glass. ‘Maybe I should slow down a little.’

His gaze was steady. ‘The drink? Or something else?’

There it was. The hidden question between them. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. ‘I came here to forget,’ she said quietly, exposing more of herself than she meant.

Her other hand was on the bar. His slid over the top, intertwining his fingers with hers. ‘And so did I. Maybe there are other ways to forget.’

She licked her lips, almost scared to look up and meet his gaze again. It would be like answering the unspoken question. The one she was sure that she wanted to answer.

His thumb slid under her palm, tracing little circles. In most circumstances it would be calming. But here, and now, it was anything but calming; it was almost erotic.

‘Sienna, you have a few days left. Have you seen the mountains yet? How about I show you some of the hidden pleasures that we keep secret from the tourists?’

It was the way he said it. His voice was low and husky, sending a host of tiny shivers of expectation up her spine.

She could almost hear the voices of her friends in her head. She was always the sensible one. Always cautious. If she told this tale a few months later and told them she’d made her excuses and walked away...

The cocktail glass was glistening in the warm sunset. The chandelier hanging above the bar sending a myriad of coloured prisms of light around the room.

The perfect setting. The perfect place. The perfect man.

A whole host of distraction.

Exactly what she’d been looking for.

She threw back her head and tried to remember if she was wearing matching underwear. Not that it mattered. But somehow she wanted all her memories about this to be perfect.

She met his green gaze. There should be rules about eyes like that. Eyes that pulled you in and held you there, while all the time giving a mischievous hint of exactly what he was thinking.

She stood up from her bar stool and moved closer. His hand dropped from the bar to her hip. She brushed her lips against his ear. ‘How many of Montanari’s pleasures are hidden?’

There it was. The intent.

It didn’t matter that her perfect red dress was hanging in the cupboard upstairs. It didn’t matter that her matching lipstick was at the bottom of her bag. It didn’t matter that her most expensive perfume was in the bathroom in her room.

Mr Sex-on-Legs liked her just the way she was.

He closed his eyes for a second. This time his voice was almost a growl, as if he were bathing in what she’d just said. ‘I could listen to your accent all day.’

She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘How about you listen to it all night instead?’

And the deed was done.

CHAPTER ONE

SHE STARED AT the stick again.

Yep. The second line was still there.

It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Just as the missing period wasn’t a dream and the tender breasts weren’t a sign of an ill-fitting bra.

A baby. She was going to have a baby.

She stared out of her house window.

Her mortgage. She’d just moved in here. Her mortgage was huge. As soon as she’d seen the house she’d loved it. It was totally too big for one person—how ironic was that?—but she’d figured she’d have the rest of her life to pay for it. It was five minutes from Teddy’s and had the most amazing garden with a pink cherry blossom tree at the bottom of it, and a little paved area at the back for sitting.

It was just like the house she’d dreamed of as a child. The house where she and her husband and children would stay and live happily ever after.

She sighed and put her head in her hands.

She was pregnant. Pregnant to Seb, the liar.

It made her insides twist and curl. She’d never quite worked out when he’d realised who she was, while she’d spent the weekend in blissful ignorance.

A weekend all the while holed up in the most beautiful mountain chalet-style house.

The days had been joyful. She’d never felt an attraction like it—immediate, powerful and totally irresistible. Seb had made her feel like the only woman in the world and for two days she’d relished it.

It was too good. Too perfect. She should have known. Because nobody could ever be that perfect. Not really.

She’d been surprised by his security outside the hotel. But then, lots of businessmen had bodyguards nowadays. It wasn’t quite so unusual as it could have been.

And she hadn’t seen any of the sights of Montanari. Once they’d reached his gorgeous house hidden in the mountains, the only thing she’d seen was his naked body.

For two whole days.

She squeezed her eyes closed for a second. It hurt to remember how much she’d loved it.

How many other woman had been given the same treatment?

She shook her head and shuddered. Finding out who he really was had ruined her memories of those two wonderful days.

Of those two wonderful nights...

She pressed her hand on her non-existent bump. Oh, wow. She was pregnant by a prince.

Prince Sebastian Falco of Montanari.

Some women might like that. Some women might think that was amazing. Right now she was wondering exactly why her contraceptive pill had failed. She’d taken it faithfully every day. She hadn’t been sick. She hadn’t forgotten. This wasn’t deliberate. This absolutely wasn’t a ploy to get pregnant by a prince. But what if he thought it was?

Her mind jumped back to her house. How much maternity leave would she get? How much maternity pay would she get—would it cover her mortgage? She’d used her savings as the deposit for the house—that, and the little extra she’d had left to update the bathroom and kitchen, meant her rainy-day fund was virtually empty.

She stood up and started pacing. Who would look after her baby when she returned to work? Would she be able to return to work? She had to. She was an independent woman. She loved her career. Having a baby didn’t mean giving up the job she loved.

She rested her hand against the wall of her sitting room. Maybe someone at the hospital could give her a recommendation for a childminder? The crèche at the hospital wouldn’t be able to cater for on-calls and late night emergency surgeries. She’d need someone ultra flexible. There was so much to think about. So much to organise.

She couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept jumping from one thing to the other. Oh, no—was this the pregnancy brain that women complained about?

She couldn’t have that. She didn’t have time for that. She was a neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon. She was responsible for tiny lives. She needed to be focused. She needed to have her mind on the job.

She walked through to the kitchen. The calendar was lying on the kitchen table. It was turned to April—showing when she’d had her last period. It had been left there when the realisation had hit her and she’d rushed to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test. She’d bought four.

She wouldn’t need them. She flicked forward. Last date of period, twenty-third of April. Forty weeks from then? She turned the calendar over, counting the weeks on the back. January. Her baby was due on the twenty-eighth of January.

She pushed open her back door and walked outside. The previous owners had left a bench seat, carved from an original ancient tree that had been damaged in a lightning strike years ago. She sat down and took some deep breaths.

It was a beautiful day. The flowers in her garden had all started to emerge. Fragrant red, pink and orange freesias, blue cornflowers, purple delphinium and multi-coloured peonies blossomed in pretty colours all around her, their scents permeating the air.

She smiled. The deep breathing was beginning to calm her. A baby. She was going to have a baby.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together as a wave of determination washed over her. Baby McDonald might not have been planned. But Baby McDonald would certainly be wanted.

He or she would be loved. Be adored.

A familiar remembrance of disappointment and anger made her catch her breath. For as long as she could remember her parents had made it clear to her that she’d been a ‘mistake’. They hadn’t put it quite in as few words but the implication was always there. Two people who had never really wanted to be together but had done ‘what was right’.

Except it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Anger and resentment had simmered from them both. The expression on her father’s face when he had left on her eighteenth birthday had told her everything she’d ever needed to know—as had the relief on her mother’s.

She’d been a burden. An unplanned-for presence.

Whether this baby was planned for or not, it would always feel loved, always feel wanted. She might not know about childcare, she might not know about maternity leave, she might not know about her mortgage—but of that one thing, she was absolutely sure.

Her brain skydived somewhere else. Folic acid. She hadn’t been taking it. She’d have to get some. Her feet moved automatically. She could grab her bag; the nearest pharmacy was only a five-minute drive. She could pick some up and start taking it immediately. As she crossed the garden her eyes squeezed shut for a second. Darn it. Folic acid was essential for normal development in a baby. She racked her brains. What had she been eating these last few weeks? Had there been any spinach? Any broccoli? She’d had some, but she just wasn’t sure how much. She’d had oranges and grapefruit. Lentils, avocados and peas.

She winced. She’d just remembered her intake of raspberries and strawberries. They’d been doused in champagne in Montanari. Alcohol. Another no-no in pregnancy.

At least she hadn’t touched a drop since her return.

Her footsteps slowed as she entered the house again. Seb. She’d need to tell him. She’d need to tell him she was expecting his baby.

A gust of cool air blew in behind her, sending every hair on her arms standing on end. How on earth would she tell him? They hadn’t exactly left things on good terms.

She sagged down onto her purple sofa for a few minutes. How did you contact a prince?

Oliver. Oliver Darrington would know. He was Seb’s friend, the obstetrician who had arranged for her to go to Montanari and train the other paediatric surgeons. But how on earth could she ask him without giving the game away? Would she sound like some desperate stalker?

Oh, Olly, by the way...can I just phone your friend the Prince, please? Can you give me his number?

She sighed and rested her head backwards on the sofa watching the yellow ticker tape of the news channel stream past.

Her eyes glazed over. Last time she’d seen Seb she’d screamed at him. Hardly the most ladylike response.

It didn’t matter that his lie had been by omission. That might even seem a tiny bit excusable now. But then, six weeks ago, rationality had left the luxurious chalet she’d found herself in.

It had been a simple mistake. The car driver—or, let’s face it, he was probably a lot more than that—had given a nod and said Your Highness to something Seb had asked him.

The poor guy had realised his mistake right away and made a prompt exit. But it was too late. She’d heard it.

At first she’d almost laughed out loud. She’d been so relaxed, so happy, that the truth hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘Your Highness?’ She’d smiled as she’d picked up her bags to go back in the house.

But the look of horror on Seb’s face had caused her foot to stop in mid-air.

And just like today, the hairs on her arms had stood on end. Seb. Sebastian. The name of the Prince of Montanari. The person who’d requested she train the surgeons in his hospital. The mystery man that she’d never met—because he was doing business overseas.

Just like Seb.

She might as well have been plunged into a cold pool of glacier ice.

‘Tell me you’re joking?’

For the first time since she’d met him, his coolness vanished. He started to babble. Babble. His eyes darting from side to side but never quite meeting her gaze.

She dropped her bags at her feet on the stony path. ‘You’re not, are you?’ He kept talking but she stopped listening. Her brain trying to make sense of what was going on.

‘You’re Sebastian Falco? You’re the Prince?’ She walked right up under his nose.

It must have been the way she’d said it. As if it were almost impossible. As if he were the unlikeliest candidate in the world.

He let out a sigh and those forest-green eyes finally met hers. His head gave the barest shake. ‘Is that so ridiculous?’

The prickling hairs on her arms spread. Like an infectious disease. Reaching parts of her body that definitely shouldn’t feel like that.

Although the rage was building inside her, all that came out was a whisper. ‘It’s ridiculous to me.’

He blinked. She could see herself reflected in his eyes. Hurt was written all over her face. She hated feeling like that. She hated being emotionally vulnerable.

Her mother and father had lived a lie for eighteen years. She’d always promised herself that would never be her life. That would never be her relationship.

She’d thrown caution to the wind and lost. Big style.

He’d made a fool of her. And she’d let him.

‘How could you?’ she snapped. ‘How could you lie to me? What kind of woman do you think I am?’

As she heard the words out loud she almost wanted to hide. She knew exactly what kind of woman she’d been these last two days. One that acted as though this was nothing. She’d experienced a true weekend of passion and abandon. She’d pushed aside all thoughts of consequences and lost herself totally in him.

Ultimate fail.

Now she was looking into the eyes of a man who’d misled her. Let her think that this was something it was not.

He pulled his gaze away from hers, having the good shame to look embarrassed, and ran his hand through his thick dark hair.

But even that annoyed her. She’d spent all weekend running her own fingers through the same hair and right now she knew she’d never do that again.

He reached up and touched her shoulder. ‘Sienna, I’m sorry.’

She pulled back as if he’d stung her and his eyes widened.

‘Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me again. Ever!’ She spun around and walked back inside.

She ignored everything around her. Ignored the soft sofas they’d spent many an hour on. Ignored the thick wooden table that they’d eaten more than their dinner from. Ignored the tangled sheets in the white and gold bedroom that told their own story.

She grabbed the few things she’d brought with her—and the few other things she’d bought—and started throwing them into her bag.

Seb rushed in behind her. ‘Sienna, slow down. Things weren’t meant to happen like this. I’m sorry. I am. I came to the hotel to get away. I came to think about some things.’ He ran his fingers through his hair again. ‘And then, when I got there, there was just...’ he held his hands up towards her ‘...you,’ he said simply.

She spun back around.

‘I didn’t realise right away who you were. I’d asked Oliver if he could send a surgeon to help with training. I’m the patron of the hospital and they only come to me when there are big issues. The hospital board were unhappy about all our neonates having to be transferred to France for cardiac surgeries. It was time to train our own surgeons—buy our own equipment. But once I’d made the arrangement with Oliver I hadn’t really paid attention to all the details. Our hospital director took care of all those because I knew I wouldn’t be here. I didn’t even recognise your name straight away.’

She felt numb. ‘You knew? You knew exactly who I was?’

He sighed heavily and his tanned face paled. ‘Not until yesterday when you mentioned you were a surgeon.’

She gulped. She knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. Not until after they’d slept together.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me you knew Oliver yesterday?’

He shook his head. ‘Because we’d already taken things further than either of us probably intended. We were in our own little bubble here. And I won’t lie. I liked it, Sienna. I liked the fact it was just you and me and the outside world seemed as far away as possible.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want to spoil it.’ He started pacing around. ‘Do you know what it’s like to have the eyes of the world constantly on you? Do you know what it’s like when every time you even say hello to a woman it’s splashed across the press the next day that she could be the next Queen?’ The frustration was clearly spilling over.

‘You expect me to feel sorry for you?’

He threw up his hands. ‘The only time I’ve had a bit of a normal life was when I was at university. The press were banned from coming near me then. But every moment before that, and every second after it, I’ve constantly been on display. Life is never normal around me, Sienna. But here—’ he indicated the room ‘—and in Il Palazzo di Cristallo I get a tiny bit of privacy. Do you know how good it felt to walk in somewhere, see a beautiful woman and be able to act on it? Be able to actually let myself feel something?’

Her throat was dry. Emotion and frustration was written all over his face. He couldn’t stop pacing.

It was as if the weight of the world were currently sitting on his shoulders. She had no idea what his life was like. She’d no idea what was expected of him. Her insides squirmed. The thought of constantly being watched by the press? No, thanks.

But the anger still burned inside. The hurt at being deceived. How many other women had he brought here? Was she just another on his list?

She stepped up close to him again, ignoring his delicious aftershave that had wound its way around her over the last few days. ‘So, everything was actually a lie?’

He winced. ‘It wasn’t a lie, Sienna.’

‘It was to me.’

He shook his head and straightened his shoulders. ‘You’re overreacting. Even if I had introduced myself, what difference would it have made?’ He moved closer, his chest just in front of her face. ‘Are you telling me that this wouldn’t have happened? That we wouldn’t have been attracted to each other? We wouldn’t have ended up together?’

She clouded out his words—focusing only on the first part. It had been enough to make the red mist descend. ‘I’m overreacting?’ She dropped the clothes she had clutched in her hands. ‘I’m overreacting?’ She let out an angry breath as her eyes swept the room.

She shook her head. ‘Oh, no, Seb. I’m not overreacting.’ She picked up the nearest lamp and flung it at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. ‘This. This is overreacting. This is letting you know how I really feel about your deception.’

His chin practically hung open.

She stalked back to the bed and stuffed the remaining few items into her bag, zipping it with an over-zealous tug.

She marched right up under his nose. ‘If I never see you again it will be too soon. Next time find someone else to train your surgeons. Preferably someone who doesn’t mind being deceived and lied to.’

He drew himself up to his full height. On any other occasion she might have been impressed. But that day? Not a chance.

His mouth tightened. ‘Have it your own way.’

‘I will,’ she’d shouted as she’d swept out of the chalet and back into the waiting car. ‘Take me back to my hotel,’ she’d growled at the driver.

Heavens. She hoped she hadn’t got that poor man fired. He hadn’t even blinked when she’d spoken. Just put the car into gear and set off down the mountain road. Her last view of Seb had been as he’d walked to the door and watched the car take off.

Now, it seemed all a bit melodramatic.

She’d never admit she’d cried on the plane on the way home. Not to a single person. And especially not to a person she’d now have to tell she was carrying his baby.

Her eyes came into focus sharply and she leaned forward.

The tickertape stream of news changed constantly. Something had made her focus again.

She waited a few seconds.

Prince Sebastian Falco of Montanari has announced his engagement to his childhood friend Princess Theresa Mon Carte of Peruglea. Although the date of their wedding has not yet been announced it is expected to be in the next calendar year. The royal wedding will unite the two neighbouring kingdoms of Montanari and Peruglea.

Every single tiny bit of breath left her body. Her stomach plummeted as a tidal wave of emotions consumed her.

It was as if the glacier ice pool she’d imagined on the mountain of Montanari had followed her home. Nausea made her bolt to the bathroom.

This wasn’t morning sickness.

This was pure and utter shock.

He was engaged. Sebastian was engaged.

As she knelt on the bathroom floor she felt momentarily light-headed. Could this be any worse?

She squeezed her eyes closed. Trying to banish all the memories of that weekend from her mind. Her body responded automatically, curling into a ball on the ground. If she didn’t think about him, she couldn’t hurt. She couldn’t let herself hurt like this. She had a baby. A baby to think about.

She pressed her head against the cool tiles on the wall.

Pregnant by a prince. An engaged prince.

Funnily enough, no fairy tale she’d ever heard of ended like this.

CHAPTER TWO

December

SHE WAS LATE. Again. And Sienna was never late. She hated people being late. And now she was turning into that person herself.

It was easy to shift the blame. Her obstetrician’s clinic was running nearly an hour behind. How ironic. Even being friends with the Assistant Head of Obstetrics around here didn’t give her perks—but she could hardly blame him. Oliver had been dealing with a particularly difficult case. It just meant that now she wouldn’t complete her rounds and finish when planned.

She hurried across the main entrance of the hospital and tried not to be distracted by the surroundings. The Royal Cheltenham hospital—or Teddy’s, as they all affectionately called it—did Christmas with style.

A huge tree adorned the glass atrium. Red and gold lights twinkled merrily against the already darkening sky. The tea room near the front entrance—staffed by volunteers—had its own display. A complete Santa sleigh and carved wooden reindeers with red Christmas baubles on their noses. Piped music surrounded her. Not loud enough to be intrusive, but just enough to set the scene for Christmas, as an array of traditional carols and favourite pop tunes permeated the air around her.

Sienna couldn’t help but smile. Christmas was her absolute favourite time of year. The one time of year her parents actually stopped fighting. Her mother’s sister, Aunt Margaret, had always visited at this time of year. Her warmth and love of Christmas had been infectious. As soon as she walked in the house, the frosty atmosphere just seemed to vanish. If Margaret sensed anything, she never acknowledged it. It seemed it wasn’t the ‘done thing’ to fight and argue in front of Aunt Margaret and Sienna loved the fact that for four whole days she didn’t have to worry at all.

Aunt Margaret’s love of Christmas had continued—for Sienna, at least—long after she’d died. Sienna’s own Christmas tree had gone up on the first of December. Multicoloured lights were decorating the now bare cherry blossom at the bottom of her garden. She wasn’t even going to admit how they got there.

It seemed that Mother Nature was even trying to get in on the act. A light dusting of snow currently covered the glass atrium at Teddy’s.

This time next year would be even more special. This time next year would be her baby’s first Christmas. A smile spread across Sienna’s face.

Thoughts like that made her forget about her aching back and sore feet. At thirty-four weeks pregnant she was due to start maternity leave some time soon. Oliver had arranged for some maternity cover, and he’d had the good sense to start her replacement early. Max Ainsley was proving more than capable.

He’d picked up the electronic systems and referral pathways of Teddy’s easily. It meant that she’d be able to relax at home when the baby arrived instead of fretting over cancelled surgeries and babies and families having to travel for miles to get the same standard of care.

She hurried into the neonatal unit and stuffed her bag into the duty room. She looked up and took a deep breath. Every cot was full. An influx of winter virus had hit the unit a few weeks ago. That, along with delivery of a set of premature quads—one of whom needed surgery—meant that the staff were run off their feet.

Ruth, one of the neonatal nurses, shot her a sympathetic look. ‘You doing okay, Sienna?’

Sienna straightened up and rubbed her back, then her protruding stomach. She was used to the sideways glances from members of staff. As she’d never dated anyone from the hospital and most of the staff knew she lived alone, speculation about her pregnancy had been rife.

The best rumour that she’d heard was that she’d decided she didn’t need a man and had just used a sperm donor to have a baby on her own. If only it were true.

She’d stopped watching the news channel. Apart from weather reports and occasional badly behaved sportsmen, it seemed that her favourite news channel had developed an obsession with the upcoming royal wedding in Montanari early next year.

News was obviously slow. But if she saw one more shot of Seb with his arm around the cut-out perfect blonde she would scream. She didn’t care that they looked a little awkward together. She just didn’t want to see them at all.

She smiled at Ruth. ‘I’m doing fine, thanks. Just had my check-up. Six weeks to go.’ She waved her hand at the array of cots. ‘I’ve got three babies to review. I’m hoping we can get at least two of them home for their first Christmas in the next few days. What do you think?’

As she said the words her Head Neonatal Nurse appeared behind Ruth. She’d worked with Annabelle Ainsley for the last year and had been more than a little surprised when it had been revealed that Annabelle was actually Max’s estranged wife. She hadn’t been surprised that it had only taken them a week to reconcile once he’d started working at Teddy’s. For the last couple of weeks Annabelle hadn’t stopped smiling, so she was surprised to see her looking so serious this afternoon.

‘There’s someone here to see you.’ The normally unfazed Annabelle looked a little uncomfortable.

Sienna picked up the nearest tablet to check over one of her patients. ‘Who is it? A rep? Tell them I don’t have time, I’m sorry.’ She gave Annabelle a smile. ‘I think I should maybe hand all the reps over to Max now—what do you think?’

Annabelle glanced at Ruth. ‘It’s not a rep. I don’t recognise him and didn’t have time to ask his name. He’s insisting that he’ll only speak to you and...’ she took a breath ‘...he won’t be kept waiting.’

Sienna sat the tablet back down, satisfied with the recordings. Her post-surgery baby was doing well. She shook her head. ‘Well, who does he think he is?’ She looked around the unit and paused. ‘Wait? Is it a parent of one of the babies? Or someone with a surgery scheduled for their child? You know that I’ll speak to them.’

Annabelle shook her head firmly. ‘No. None of those. No parents—or impending parents. It’s something else entirely.’ She handed a set of notes to Ruth. ‘Can you check on little Maisy Allerton? She didn’t take much at her last feed.’

Ruth nodded and disappeared. Annabelle pressed her lips together. ‘This guy, he says it’s personal.’

Sienna felt an uncomfortable prickle across her skin. ‘Personal? Who would have something personal to talk to me about?’

The words were out before she even thought about them. Nothing like making herself sound sad and lonely. Did people at Teddy’s even think she had a personal life?

Annabelle’s eyes darted automatically to Sienna’s protruding stomach, then she flushed as she realised Sienna had noticed.

Sienna straightened her shoulders. She’d never been a fan of anyone trying to push her around. She gave Annabelle a wide smile. ‘Oh, he’s insisting, is he?’

Annabelle nodded then her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest. She’d worked with Sienna long enough to sense trouble ahead.

Sienna kept smiling. ‘Well, in that case, I’ll review my three babies. Talk to all sets of parents. I might make a few phone calls to some parents with babies on my list between Christmas and New Year, and then...’ she paused as she picked up the tablet again to start accessing a file ‘...then, as a heavily pregnant woman, I think I’ll go and have something to eat. I missed lunch and—’ she raised her eyebrows at Annabelle ‘—I have a feeling a colleague I work with might insist I don’t faint at work.’

Annabelle smiled too and nodded knowingly. ‘Not that I want to be any influence on you, but the kitchen staff made killer carrot cake today. I think it could count as one of your five a day.’

Sienna threw back her head and laughed. ‘You’re such a bad influence but I could definitely be persuaded.’ Her eyes went straight back to the chart. ‘Okay, so let’s see Kendall first. Mr I-Insist is just going to have to find out how things work around here.’

Annabelle gave a smile and put an arm at Sienna’s back. ‘Don’t worry. Somehow I think you’ll be more than a match for him. Give me a signal when you come back. I can always page you after five minutes to give you an escape.’

Sienna nodded. She didn’t really care who was waiting for her—her babies would always come first.

* * *

Seb was furious. He kept glancing at his watch. He’d been in this room for over an hour—his security detail waiting outside.

The sister of the neonatal ward had seemed surprised at first by his insistence at seeing Sienna. Then, she’d explained Sienna was at another appointment and would be back soon. What exactly meant soon at the Royal Cheltenham?

He’d paced the corridors a few times looking for her with no success. The doors to the neonatal unit had a coded lock, and, from the look of the anxious parents hurrying in and out, it really wasn’t a place he wanted to be.

He’d been stunned when Oliver Darrington had phoned him to discuss his own difficult situation—after a one-night stand a colleague was pregnant. A colleague who he had feelings for. Oliver had been Sebastian’s friend since they’d attended university together, even though they were destined for completely different lives.

He hadn’t told Oliver a thing about his weekend with Sienna, so when Oliver had mentioned that Sienna too was pregnant, Sebastian had felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

His tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth and his brain had scrambled to ask the question he’d wanted to, without giving himself away. According to Oliver she was heavily pregnant—due to have her baby at the end of January.

For a few seconds Seb had felt panicked. The dates fitted perfectly. He didn’t have a single doubt that her baby could be his.

He could hardly remember the rest of the conversation with Oliver. That made him cringe now. It was a complete disservice to his friend.

He’d had things to deal with.

Since Sienna had stormed out of his chalet retreat his life had turned upside down. He’d followed his parents’ wishes and allowed the announcement of the engagement. Theresa had seemed indifferent. Uniting the kingdoms had been important to her too. But marrying someone she wasn’t in love with didn’t seem any more appealing to her than it was to him.

If Sienna hadn’t happened, maybe, just maybe, he could have mustered some enthusiasm and tried to persuade Theresa their relationship could work.

But his nights had been haunted with dreams of being tangled in the sheets with a passionate woman with ash-blonde hair, caramel-coloured eyes and a firm, toned body.

She’d ignited a flame inside him. Something that had burned underneath the surface since she’d left. He’d been a fool. A fool to let his country think he would take part in a union he didn’t think he could make work.

His parents had been beside themselves with anger at the broken engagement.

Theresa had been remarkably stoic about him breaking the engagement. She’d handed back the yellow diamond ring with a nod of her head. He suspected her heart lay somewhere else. Her voice had been tight. ‘I hadn’t got around to finalising the design for my wedding dress yet. The designer was furious with me. It’s just as well really, isn’t it?’

He’d felt bad as he bent to kiss her cheek. Theresa wasn’t really upset with him. Not yet, anyway. She might be angrier when she found out about the baby. It could be embarrassing for her. He only hoped she would have moved on to wherever her heart truly lay.

The Head of his PR had nearly had a heart attack. He’d actually put his hand to his chest and turned an alarming shade of grey. And that had given Sebastian instant inspiration. In amongst breaking the news to both Theresa and his parents, Sebastian had spent the last two weeks doing something else—making arrangements to twin the Cheltenham hospital with the Montanari Royal General. He was already a patron of his own hospital; a sizeable donation would make him a patron of Teddy’s too.

It was the perfect cover story. He could come to the Royal Cheltenham without people asking too many questions. Oliver had been surprised for around five minutes. Then, he’d made him an appointment with the board. In the meantime, Sebastian could come freely to the hospital with his security and press team in tow. The announcement was due to be made tomorrow. Seb was hoping he could also make an announcement of his own.

He glanced at his watch again as the anger built in his chest. Sienna hadn’t even contacted him. Hadn’t even let him know he was going to be a father. Was her intention to leave his child fatherless? For the heir of Montanari not to be acknowledged or have their rightful inheritance?

That could never happen. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. Not in his lifetime.

He heard a familiar voice drifting down the corridor towards him. It sent every sense on fire. That familiar Scottish twang. The voice she’d invited him to listen to all night...

‘No problem. I’ll be along to review the chest X-ray in five minutes. Thanks, Max.’

The footsteps neared but he wasn’t prepared for the sight. Last time he’d seen Sienna she’d been toned and athletic. This time the rounded belly appeared before she did.

Her footsteps stopped dead in the doorway, her eyes wide. It was clear he was the last person she’d been expecting to see.

She took his breath away. She didn’t have on a traditional white coat. Instead she was dressed in what must be a maternity alternative to a suit. Black trousers with a matching black tunic over the top. It was still smart. Still professional. Her hair was gleaming, a bit longer than he remembered and tucked behind her ears. A red stethoscope hung around her neck, matching her bright red lipstick.

‘Sebastian.’ It was more a breath than a word.

Her hand went automatically to her stomach. His reply stuck in his throat. He hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t been ready for the sight of her ripe with his child. Even under her smart clothes he could see her lean body had changed totally. Her breasts were much bigger than before—and they suited her. Pregnancy suited her in a way he couldn’t even have imagined.

But now he was here, he just didn’t even know where to start.

* * *

This wasn’t happening. Not here. Not now.

She’d planned things so carefully. All her surgeries were over. Any new patients had been seen jointly with Max. He would perform the neonatal surgeries and she would do later follow up once she was back from maternity leave.

But here he was. Right in front of her. The guy she’d spent the last six months half cursing, half pining for.

Those forest-green eyes practically swept up and down her body. Her palm itched. That thick dark hair. The hair she’d spent two days and two nights running her fingers through. Those broad shoulders, filling out the exquisitely cut suit. The pale lilac of the shirt and the shocking pink of his tie with his dark suit and good looks made him look like one of the models adorning the billboards above Times Square in New York. Imagine waking up with that staring in your hotel window every morning.

Her breath had left her lungs. It was unnatural. It was ridiculous. He was just a man. She sucked in a breath and narrowed her gaze. ‘Congratulations on your engagement.’

He flinched. What had he expected? That she’d welcome him here with open arms?

Part of her felt a tiny twinge of regret. Her hand had picked up the phone more times than she could count. She’d tried to have that conversation with Oliver on a number of occasions. But it was clear that he’d never realised what was behind her tiny querying questions. The thought that his friend might have had a liaison with his colleague obviously hadn’t even entered his mind.

Was it really such a stretch of the imagination?

Sebastian let out a sigh and stepped towards her. She held up her hand automatically to stop him getting too close—last thing she needed was to get a whiff of that familiar aftershave. She didn’t need any more memories of the past than she already had. Baby was more than enough.

The royal persona she’d seen on the TV news seemed to be the man in the room with her now. This wasn’t the cheeky, flirtatious, incredibly sexy guy that she’d spent two days and two nights with. Maybe her Seb didn’t really exist at all?

There was something else. An air about him she hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. An assurance. A confidence. The kind of persona that actually fitted with being a prince.

He caught the hand she held in front of her.

The effect was instant, a rush of warmth and a pure overload of memories of the last time he’d touched her.

If she hadn’t been standing so squarely she might have swayed. Her senses were alight. Now, his aftershave was reaching across the short space between them like a cowboy’s rope pulling her in. Her hand tingled from where he held it. His grip initially had been firm but now it changed and his thumb moved under her palm, tracing circles—just as he’d done months ago.

Her breathing stalled. No. No, she wasn’t going to go here again.

This was the man that had announced his engagement a few weeks after they’d met. An engagement to a childhood friend. Had he been seeing her the whole time? She’d checked. But the media wasn’t sure. Had he been sleeping with them both at the same time?

She had no idea.

But no matter what her senses were doing, thoughts like that coloured her opinion of the man. He hadn’t been honest with her. They hadn’t promised each other anything, but that didn’t matter.

She snatched her hand back.

‘I’m not engaged, Sienna. I broke off my engagement when I heard the news you were pregnant.’ His voice was as smooth as silk.

She felt herself bristle. ‘And what am I supposed to feel—grateful?’

He didn’t even blink. He just kept talking. ‘I heard the news from Oliver. He called me about something else. A woman. Ella? Do you know her?’

Sienna frowned. ‘Yes, yes, I know her. She’s a midwife here.’ She paused. Did Sebastian know the full story?

‘They’re engaged,’ she said carefully, missing out the part that Ella was pregnant too. She wasn’t sure just how much Oliver would have told Sebastian.

A wide smile broke across Sebastian’s face. ‘Perfect. I’ll need to congratulate him.’ His focus came back on Sienna. ‘Maybe we could have a joint wedding?’

‘A what?’ Someone walking past the door turned their head at the rise of her voice. ‘Are you crazy?’

Sebastian shook his head. ‘Why would you think I’m crazy?’

He drew himself up in front of her. ‘You’re carrying the heir to the Montanari throne. We might still have things to sort out, but I’d prefer it if the heir to the throne was legitimate. Wouldn’t you? If you come back with me now we can be married as soon as we get there. We can tell the world we met when you came to work in Montanari Royal General. Everything fits.’

He made it all sound so normal. So rational. So matter-of-fact.

She wasn’t hearing this. She wasn’t. It was some sick, delusional dream. She thought back to everything she’d eaten today. Maybe she’d been exposed to something weird.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. ‘Here.’

She wasn’t thinking straight and held out her hand. ‘What is it?’

One of the ward clerks walked past and raised her eyebrows at the sight of the way-too-big diamond. Perfect. Just perfect. She was already the talk of the place and Polly was the world’s biggest gossip. She just prayed that Polly hadn’t recognised Sebastian.

She flinched and pulled her hand away. ‘What am I supposed to do with that?’

‘Put it on,’ he said simply, glancing at her as if it were a stupid question. ‘You need to wear an engagement ring.’ He paused for a second and looked at her face. ‘Don’t you like it? It’s a family heirloom.’ His forehead wrinkled. ‘I’m sure I can find you something else in the family vault.’

She shook her head and started pacing. ‘It doesn’t matter if I like it. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I’m—’ She stopped and placed her hand on her stomach. ‘We’re going nowhere. I have a job here. A home. The very last place I’m going is Montanari. And the very last thing I’m doing...’ she paused again and shook her head, trying to make sense of the craziness around her. She drew in a deep breath and stepped right up to him, poking her finger in her chest. ‘The very last thing I’m doing is marrying you.’

Now Sebastian started shaking his head. He had the absolute gall to look surprised. ‘Why on earth not? You’re expecting our child. You’re going to be the mother of the heir to Montanari. We should get married. And as soon as possible.’ He said it as if it made perfect sense.

Sienna put her hands on her back and started pacing. ‘No. No, we absolutely shouldn’t.’

Sebastian held out his hands. ‘Sienna, in a few years you get to be the Queen of Montanari. What woman wouldn’t want that?’

She shuddered. She actually shuddered. ‘Oh, no. Oh, no.’

Sebastian’s brow creased. ‘What on earth is wrong? We can have a state wedding in Montanari...’ he glanced at her stomach and gave a little shrug ‘...but we’ll need to be quick.’

Sienna took a step back. ‘Okay, were you really this crazy when I met you in Montanari and I just didn’t notice? Because this is nowhere near normal.’ She put her hand on her stomach. ‘Yes, I’m pregnant. Yes, I’m pregnant with your baby. But that’s it, Sebastian. This isn’t the Dark Ages. I don’t want your help—or need it.’ She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to contemplate all the things she hadn’t even considered. ‘Look at me, Sebastian. I live here. In the Cotswolds. I came here from Edinburgh. I purposely chose to come here. I’ve bought my dream house. I have a great job and colleagues that I like and admire. I’ve arranged a childcare for my baby and cover for my maternity leave.’ She could feel herself getting agitated. Her voice was getting louder the longer that she spoke. ‘I won’t keep you from our baby. You can have as much—or as little—contact as you want. But don’t expect to waltz in here and take over our lives.’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘This is my life, Sebastian. My life. I don’t need your money and I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of raising this baby on my own.’

Polly walked past again. It was obviously deliberate. Not only was she spying, now she was eavesdropping too.

With a burst of pure frustration Sienna kicked the door closed.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

She took a deep breath. ‘I need you to go. I need you to leave. I can’t deal with this now.’

Her lips pressed tight together and resisted the temptation to say the words she was truly thinking.

Sebastian seemed to have frozen on the spot. The air of assurance had disappeared.

It was then she saw it. The look. The expression.

He’d actually expected her to say yes.

He hadn’t expected her to reject him. He hadn’t expected a no.

Sebastian Falco was hurt.

Now, it was her that was surprised. It struck her in a way she didn’t expect. She could almost see a million things circulating around in his brain—as if he was trying to find a new way to persuade her to go with him.

She could see the little vein pulsing at the base of his throat.

Her mouth was dry.

If she were five years old—this would be her dream. Well, not the pregnancy, but the thought of a prince sweeping in and saying he would marry her, presenting her with a huge diamond ring and the chance to one day be Queen.

But it had been a long time since Sienna had been five.

And her ambitions and dreams had changed so much they could move mountains.

Sebastian folded his arms across his chest. ‘Why didn’t you call me, Sienna?’ His voice was rigid. ‘Why didn’t you phone and tell me as soon as you knew you were pregnant?’

Oh. That.

She should have expected it to come up.

‘I was going to. I meant to. But the day I did my pregnancy test was the day your engagement was announced on the national news.’ She looked at him directly, trying to push away the tiny part of guilt curling in her stomach. ‘Between that, and finding out I was pregnant, it kind of took the feet out from under me.’

He broke their gaze for a second, his words measured. ‘Theresa was a friend. It wasn’t going to be a marriage of love. It was going to be a union of kingdoms. Something my parents wanted very much.’

‘How romantic.’

She couldn’t help herself. She’d been a child of a loveless marriage. She knew the effects it had. She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Well, your parents must be delighted about me. I guess I’m going to be the national scandal.’

She’d been delusional. She’d thought she knew this man—even a little. But nothing about this fitted with the two days they’d spent together. The Sebastian she’d known then was a man who actually felt and thought. He’d laughed and joked and made her the coffee she craved. He’d cuddled up beside her in bed and taken her to places she’d never been before. He’d gently stroked the back of her neck as she’d fallen asleep. He was someone she’d loved being around.

Too bad all of it had been a lie.

The man in front of her now was the Sebastian that appeared on the news. The one with a fixed smile and his arm around someone else.

That was what it was. That was what she’d always noticed. Even though she’d tried not to watch him on the news—she’d tried to always switch channel—on the few occasions she had seen pictures of him, something had never seemed quite right.

She’d always tried not to look too closely. Her heart wouldn’t let her go there. Not at all.

But little things were falling into place.

The smile had never reached his eyes.

Now, the look in his eyes seemed sincere. His tone much softer. ‘You can be whatever you want to be, Sienna. I’d just like you to do it as my wife.’

This look was familiar. She’d seen it so many times on the weekend they’d spent together. In between the flirting, fun and cheekiness there had been flashes of sincerity.

That had been the thing that made his untruthfulness so hard to take.

The room was starting to feel oh-so-small.

‘Why didn’t you call me later?’

It didn’t matter that she’d just sipped some water. Her mouth felt dry. He wasn’t going to let this go. He was calling her on it.

She licked her lips. ‘I wanted to. I thought about it. But we didn’t exactly exchange numbers. How easy is it to call a royal palace and ask to speak to the Prince?’

He shifted a little uncomfortably, then shook his head. ‘You could have asked Oliver. You knew we were friends. He was the one who recommended you. He would have given you the number whenever you asked.’

‘And how would that work out? “Oh, Oliver? Can you give me Seb’s mobile number, please? I want to tell him that I’m going to ruin his engagement by letting him know I’m pregnant. You know, the engagement to his childhood sweetheart?” At least that’s the way it sounded in the media.’

He smiled. He actually smiled.

‘You think it’s funny?’

‘No. Not at all. But that’s the first time you’ve called me Seb since I got here.’ He stepped forward.

She sucked in a breath.

She hadn’t even noticed.

Seb was too close again. She needed some space, some distance between them.

He touched her arm. Her bare skin almost caught fire. There was no opportunity to flinch or pull away. His palm surrounded her slim wrist. ‘I’ve told you. It was never like that with Theresa. We just didn’t think of each other that way. And we’d never been childhood sweethearts. We were friends. Just friends.’

‘You’ve told her about the pregnancy?’

He gave a little grimace. ‘Not exactly. Not yet anyway.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I wasn’t quite sure how to put it.’

‘You were sleeping with us both?’

She couldn’t help it. It just came out.

‘What? No.’ Sebastian shook his head again. ‘I’ve never slept with Theresa. I’ve told you. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. I don’t sleep with my friends.’

She hated the way that relief flooded through her. The sincerity was written all over his face. He might have lied by omission before but she was certain he wasn’t lying now.

She met his gaze. ‘How will she feel when she finds out? It will look to the world as if you’ve made a fool of her. As if we’ve made a fool of her. I hate that. I don’t want anyone to think I’d have an affair with someone else’s man.’

He sucked in a deep breath and reached up towards her face. ‘But I wasn’t in a relationship with Theresa. I was single. I was free when we were together. And if I’d known you were pregnant I would never have let my parents force me into announcing an engagement.’ His hand brushed her cheek and his fingers tangled in her hair.

This was what he’d done when they’d been together. This was how he’d pulled her into that first kiss.

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