The Princess's Christmas Baby Page 17
‘And...? Do you love him?’
Did she?
She felt emotions wash through her. What had started as a challenge had grown into so much more. He had taken her heart and made it his. He was stoic and steady and funny and sexy. More importantly, he believed in her. Made her feel as if she could conquer the world, and she had no doubt he would be a very good father once they’d worked things out.
There was something deep between them. Something more than friendship, more than anything she’d ever known before. It was painful and wonderful at the same time and she didn’t want to think about a future without him.
So, yes, she loved him. Very much.
And that made everything a million times worse. She’d fallen in love and then walked away and her heart had shattered into so many pieces she knew she’d never fix it again.
A rogue tear spilled down her cheek. ‘He won’t be coming to live in the palace, although he will visit and be a part of our child’s life. But I will bring this baby up in Isola Verde.’
‘As Queen?’
She could do this. For her father, her family. For her baby and her country. She could be the person she’d always wanted to be. Yes. She could do this.
Barely able to move and yet shaking all over, she pressed her lips to his forehead as his eyes drifted closed. ‘If that is what you want, Papa. Then, yes, as Queen.’
* * *
Lucas was damned glad to see the back of Christmas Day.
Every time he saw the Christmas tree in the hospital foyer he thought about Gigi. When a mother brought in a sick baby he thought about Gigi and their child. The Princess was everywhere...in his head at least.
Then there’d been the stilted conversation with his parents during which he’d told them about the baby. In a gesture so typical of his family it was almost laughable, they’d sent over a formal contract for Giada to sign that guaranteed him access. That was all they’d said about the matter. No good luck wish or congratulations. No excitement or promises of knitting or babysitting.
And the ache in his chest had intensified and all the antacids in the world hadn’t fixed it.
So last night he’d printed off the contract and now he was sitting in the doctors’ mess, going through the legalese, feeling as if he was betraying Gigi in some way. Every way. But he had to make sure he got to watch his baby grow up. Hell, it was the only real family he’d ever have.
As he read, he had half an ear on the ever-present news channel on the TV on the wall.
Blah-blah. Blah. Isola Verde. Blah.
What? His head shot up and he stared at the TV. Isola Verde? Mentioned on the local news?
Did that mean...? Had Roberto died? But he’d thought their VIP patient was on the mend.
Backdropped by the Seattle General Hospital sign, Giada was reading from a script she held in her very steady hand. She looked...well, hell, she looked beautiful in a blue velvet coat that hid her bump, but he knew it was there. His heart, his whole body, hurt to see her and not touch her, not hold her in his arms, not kiss her.
God, these last few weeks had been torture. Once he’d thought he’d caught the scent of her perfume and had followed it up a hospital corridor looking for her before realising he was going mad. He’d ached to phone her, to talk to Dom, but Lucas had retreated, leaving them to pull together as the family she’d always wished they’d been. They wouldn’t have wanted him there, but, hell, he’d strained for any information about the VIP patient and visitors.
Lucas watched as Gigi handled herself so serenely, scanning to see if there was any hint of heartbreak in her demeanour. No. Nothing. He smiled to himself. She wore her Royal demeanour well. He zoned in on her words...
‘My father, King Roberto, is regrettably stepping down as King of Isola Verde. While his health is slowly improving, the surgery was to remove a brain tumour...’ She paused—he imagined to let the gravity of that sink in. ‘He needs time to rest. He wishes to announce that I, Giada Francesca Vittoria Baresi, will ascend the throne...’
What the hell? Lucas’s heart bumped and jolted. Not Dom? What was happening?
He jumped up and paced the room. She was going to be Queen. Their child was going to be heir to the throne? What, then, for him? For their child?
He stopped pacing. She would make sure he saw their child grow up. In that palace.
His optimism waned. Access maybe once or twice a year. He’d sit on the sidelines and watch Giada rule and marry and have more children. See another man fall in love with her, watch her eyes fill with love for another guy. Meanwhile, he’d talk to her through lawyers and they’d both wear that damned mask of indifference when inside his heart would be crumbling.
He rubbed his chest. He would not be able to bear watching her fall for someone else, or see another man touch her.
He loved her. He looked around the room. Sure, he was in Seattle and, sure, he’d spent a good part of his life securing this job he loved. But was this it? For the rest of his life? Lonely? Missing her? Traversing the globe twice a year to catch a glimpse of a family he ached to be part of?
He looked at the papers, tore them into tiny pieces and threw them in the bin. There had to be another way.
He was going to make sure there was.
* * *
A new year. A new beginning. And what a year she was going to have!
Giada opened the curtains and looked out over the gardens towards the woods and beyond, to the lake. Dappled sunshine and the beat of horse hooves reminded her that her father would soon be home. Things had healed so much between them and she couldn’t wait to have him back home and to help him recuperate.
She stretched out her arms, breathing in the cooler Mediterranean air and oh! A funny little feeling in her belly. Like butterfly wings. Not nervous, more...
Oh! A smile wound through her and she closed her eyes, cupping her growing bump. He was kicking. Her little Prince...or Princess...was turning and tumbling. ‘Hey, little one. Hello.’
Her throat closed over and she couldn’t say much then, apart from, ‘Mummy loves you. Daddy does too. I just wish... No. Daddy loves you very much.’
No more wishing. It was the first day of the year. She needed to put all that behind her as best she could. There was still a shadow on her heart that would always be Lucas-shaped but she had to concentrate on herself, this pregnancy and her coronation plans.
Her phone rang. Maria. ‘Your Highness, there’s a visitor for you.’
‘It’s New Year’s Day. Can you ask them to come back tomorrow?’ She had some serious baby shopping to do and a nursery to plan. ‘Don’t I get even one day off? I’m starting to rethink this whole Queen business.’ Of course she wasn’t, and Maria knew that.
‘I think you might want to come down for this.’
‘Why? What can possibly be more important than choosing cute baby clothes?’ She’d told her assistant about her pregnancy. The only one still out of the loop was her brother.
Maria laughed. ‘He says to tell you Captain Sensible’s gone into retirement. But Captain Spontaneous would very much like to see you.’
Lucas!
Her heart tumbled and turned, just like their baby, and she ran to the top of the grand staircase. There he was in the hall, shimmering in the light of the dome, tall and handsome and beautiful and serious.
‘Hello.’ She felt nervous, just like the time she’d sneaked into his suite. Was he here to talk? To hit her with a lawsuit? To...?
He captured her gaze. ‘Giada.’
Not Gigi. That was important. She descended the stairs on shaking legs. ‘Lucas. Nice of you to visit.’
He fisted his hands, didn’t kiss her cheek. ‘I need to tell you something.’
‘Go right ahead.’
‘I told my parents about the baby.’
That was a step forward. ‘Good.’<
br />
He shook his head. ‘Not so good. They advised me to serve you with papers to ensure I was allowed access.’
That was why he was here? Her stomach felt as if it was tumbling to her feet. ‘You could have emailed them. Saved yourself the journey.’
‘I... I needed to see you. To talk to you. Because that’s the way to do these things, right? To communicate face to face.’ He reached out and stroked her cheek with his fingertips. ‘I don’t want sporadic access to my child. I want more than that.’
‘You want full custody?’ Her heart jerked and she stepped out of his reach. ‘Dio, Lucas...please...no. I don’t want to fight.’
I love you.
How would he react if she just said it? Was honest with him instead of hiding behind pretence?
‘Yes...’ He cleared his throat and straightened. ‘Joint custody. I want us to be a family, Gigi. I want my Gigi back. Not the one who walked away. I want the one who is real and honest and kisses like an angel.’
‘You want... But you do know I’m going to be Queen? I can’t move to Seattle.’ There it was. The real problem.
But he smiled. And, God, it was beautiful. ‘I know. I don’t care where we live. Honestly. I’m sure I could get used to all this, given a chance. I hope. I’ll try. I want to try. I spent too long fighting the idea. I blocked everything else. I didn’t want to fall for you and then for you to walk away.’
Like his parents had. Love, in his experience, was conditional. ‘I walked away.’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, Lucas.’ She’d done exactly what he’d thought she would do, the worst thing she could have done. She’d made her love conditional on him living here and when she’d thought he couldn’t do that she’d walked away. ‘I tried hard not to let you into my heart. I thought I could tease you and have fun but then it got serious and I got scared because the feelings I had were so intense. I didn’t want to believe...’
‘I know.’ He held out his hand and she took it. ‘I know why you did it. I understand, Gigi. You’ve been treated badly in the past, but you don’t have to put on a brave face with me. Ever.’
He knew her better than she knew herself. And she knew him well too. ‘You could work at the hospital. I think that’s important. You’d be grumpy otherwise. Lucas, I—’
‘I love you.’
She didn’t know who said it first. Who took the first step, who leaned in first. But his lips touched hers. And then she was wrapped in his arms, the only place she wanted to be. Her home. Her Lucas.
She pulled away but kept hold of him. ‘Captain Spontaneous?’
‘Hmm.’ He nuzzled her hair and laughed. ‘Sensible has been sent into exile.’
‘Good.’ Now it was her turn to clear her throat. ‘You know a queen should probably be married, sì?’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Is this...? Giada Francesca Vittoria Baresi, is this a proposal?’
She laughed because, yes, it probably was. ‘Papa said I always do things the wrong way round. But when you asked me you didn’t mean it. So now it’s my turn. And I do mean it. Dr Lucas Beaufort, will you marry me?’
‘Sì, bella Gigi.’ He kissed her again and again, his hand sliding round to her abdomen. His eyes widened and he jerked back. ‘Is that? Did the baby just...?’
‘Yes.’ She put his hand back again. ‘He or she is very happy.’
‘So am I.’ Then he got serious. ‘I really think we need to tell Domenico.’
‘We should call him. He’ll be thrilled.’
Lucas grimaced and ran fingers through his hair. ‘He’ll kill me.’
She waved her hand. ‘You can’t kill the Queen’s husband. He’ll have his head chopped off. Let’s call him...in a few minutes. I have Royal business to attend to first. The Queen would like to kiss her Consort.’
And then she did.
For a very long time.
EPILOGUE
One year later...
‘IT’S MY TURN for cuddles.’ Roberto Baresi took his granddaughter from Gigi’s aching arms and planted a big kiss on baby Chiara Alessia Giada Beaufort-Baresi’s chubby cheek. ‘Who’s a lovely girl, then?’
‘Who is he and what has he done with my father?’ Dom whispered once their father was out of earshot over the other side of the room. They were all crammed into the antechamber on the second floor of the palace. The noise was reaching fever pitch inside, matching the crowds down below.
Giada made a feeble attempt to hush her inside guests. ‘Thank you for coming. All of you. It’s been a very special Christmas and...er... coronation...’ Because why have one celebration when you can have two? ‘I’m so glad we got to share it all with you. Thank you for everything. Now drink!’
Gigi laughed as she looked at the smiling faces, her heart so full of love and joy and hope. Domenico had come over from Seattle with Emilia, married now and settled together. After Gigi’s announcement, the news had broken about his true identity and for a few weeks there’d been a buzz, but it had all died down. They were very happy, she could see. Still competing, still working, still very good friends.
He’d forgiven both her and Lucas for their relationship...but it had taken a few weeks for their happy equilibrium to right itself.
Dom had brought Max Granger and Ayanna Franklin over for the holidays. They’d finally admitted they were an item and Ayanna was happily planning their wedding. More fun!
Logan had come too...back to see his old boss, bringing his son, little Jamie, and his wife Kat, the nurse who’d first seen Giada after the accident. And they’d shared the happy news that they would soon be adopting. Another baby.
Gigi put down her champagne glass and smoothed her dress. ‘Right, how do I look?’
‘Very regal.’ Emilia straightened Gigi’s purple sash. ‘Oh, your crown’s a bit crooked.’
‘Story of my life.’ Gigi laughed as she put her hands onto the precious crystals and diamonds and tried to fix it.
‘Wait...let me.’ Lucas stepped in front of her and her heart leapt as it always did. He pressed a kiss to her cheek then did something to her crown and it felt straight and right. He slipped his hand into hers. ‘I love you, Queen Gigi.’
Oh, he did, she was utterly and totally convinced of that. And he couldn’t be a better father. Although the hospital work was mostly what was keeping him sane.
‘Ma’am. It’s time.’ The footman drew back the heavy velvet drapes and the sound from the crowd intensified.
‘Oh, wait... Chiara... I’d better take her. Come on, Lucas. It’s showtime.’
‘I prefer bedtime, but there it is,’ he whispered against her throat. And she felt the thrill of anticipation shiver through her. There was so much love. She was so damned lucky.
Then they stepped out onto the balcony and a roar erupted from the crowd. Giada waved with her baby-free hand and knew that happiness radiated from her. Her heart was full.
She had her family, her country, her baby. And her husband by her side. For ever.
* * *
Welcome to the Royal Christmas at Seattle General quartet!
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Christmas Under the Northern Lights by Annie O’Neil.
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Christmas Under the Northern Lights
CHAPTER ONE
AUDREY LEANT AGAINST the ferry railing to peer into the cloudlike sea mist. If she spread her arms out wide she’d look just like the heroine in Titanic. Excepting, of course, the tiny little differences.
She was a short-haired brunette, not a ringleted redhead. She was wearing woolly tights and about nine other layers of clothes versus an opulent gown and a neckline dripping in jewels. Plus, she was nowhere near being able to afford a maid or first-class passage to Scotland, let alone America and, more to the point, she was completely alone. No Leo in sight.
Sigh.
Not that she wanted one. Too rakishly handsome. Too much potential for her to be snared and then, without so much as a moment’s notice, dropped like a hot potato. At Christmas. Well. The lead-up to it, anyway.
Her thumb skidded along the smooth terrain of her ring finger. Yup. Still empty. That was what happened when you threw your diamond ring at your naked fiancé and his...whatever she was. Elf? Santa’s little helper? Super-svelte Mrs Claus?
It had been hard to tell, seeing as the curvy blonde had grabbed all of her Christmas-coloured clothing and clutched it to her entirely naked body as Audrey had absorbed the fact that someone who wasn’t her was having sex with the man she was meant to marry on Christmas Eve.
Time, it turned out, did stand still sometimes. And not really when you wanted it to. She’d always remember the look on Rafael’s face: sorry, but...not sorry.
His lack of contrition had ripped open her deepest, darkest fears and laid them bare. He’d not really loved her at all. Hadn’t meant a single one of the sweet nothings he’d whispered, nor a single, solitary promise that he’d made. She’d thought he’d been the answer to all her hopes and dreams, but it had all been a mirage. Seeing him look at her without a fraction of remorse... She’d never felt so small.