Rebecca Winters: Expecting the Prince's Baby

Torn between love and royal obligation…

by Rebecca Winters

Vincenzo and Valentino are determined to fulfil their duty to their beloved kingdoms by taking royal wives, but they haven’t counted on the revolutions taking place in their hearts caused by two captivating commoners.

When these two charming princes risk everything to win the trust of the women they love they soon find the true meaning of commitment and honour, proving that sometimes fairytales do come true—and in the most unexpected ways!

EXPECTING THE PRINCE’S BABYAvailable May 2014

and

BECOMING THE PRINCE’S WIFEAvailable June 2014

Expecting the

Prince’s Baby

Rebecca Winters

www.millsandboon.co.uk

REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.

Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website: www.cleanromances.com.

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I dedicate this book to my angelic grandmother, Alice Vivia Driggs Brown, who made my childhood a constant enchantment. She was so romantic she called the home she and my grandfather had built ‘Camelot.’

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EXTRACT

CHAPTER ONE

VINCENZO DI LAURENTIS, thirty-three-year-old crown prince of the Principality of Arancia, stood before the camera on the balcony of the royal palace overlooking the gardens to officially open the April Fifteenth Lemon and Orange Festival. This was his first public appearance since the funeral of his wife, Princess Michelina, six weeks ago. He waved to the crowds that had come out en masse.

His country was nestled between the borders of France and Italy on the coast of the Mediterranean. Eighty thousand people lived in the city of the same name. The other thirty thousand made up the population that lived in the smaller towns and villages. Besides tourism, it had depended on the lemon and orange industries for centuries.

For the next two weeks the country would celebrate the mainstay of their economy with marching bands in the streets, food fairs, floats and statuary in the parks decorated with lemons and other citrus fruit.

Vincenzo had just gotten back from a series of visits to three continents, doing business for the monarchy with other heads of state. It felt good to be with his father, King Guilio, again. On his return, he’d forgotten how beautiful Arancia could be in the spring with its orchards in full flower. He felt an air of excitement coming from the people that winter was over. As for himself, the darkness that had consumed him over the last six weeks since Michelina’s death seemed to be dissipating.

Their marriage had never been a love match. Though betrothed at sixteen, they’d spent very little time together before their wedding fourteen years later. When he’d walked into their apartment earlier this afternoon, more than any other emotion, he was aware of a haunting sense of guilt for not having been able to love her the way she’d loved him.

Romantic love never grew on his part for her, only respect and admiration for her determination to keep up the image of a happily married couple. They’d suffered through three miscarriages hoping for a child, but it hadn’t happened.

His passion had never been aroused when they’d made love because he hadn’t been in love with her, but he’d done his best to show her tenderness. He’d known passion with other women before he’d married Michelina. But it had only been a physical response because he was never able to give his heart, knowing he was betrothed.

Vincenzo suspected Michelina’s parents had undergone the same kind of unfulfilled marriage. He knew his own parents had struggled. It was the rare occurrence when a royal couple actually achieved marital happiness. Michelina had wanted their marriage to be different, and Vincenzo had tried. But you couldn’t force love. That had to spring from a source all on its own.

However there was one thing he had been able to do that had brought them their first real happiness as man and wife. In fact it was the only thing that had gotten him through this dark period. Just a few days before she’d died, they’d learned they were pregnant again. Only this time they’d taken the necessary steps to prevent another miscarriage.

Relieved that his last duty for today was over, he left the balcony anxious to visit the woman who’d been willing to be a gestational surrogate for them. Abby Loretto, the American girl who’d become his friend. Since twelve years of age she’d been living on the palace grounds with her Italian father, who was chief of security.

Vincenzo had been eighteen, with his own set of friends and a few girlfriends his own age, when Abby had arrived on the scene. Yet Abby had become the constant in the background of his life, more like a younger sister flitting in and out of his daily life. It was almost like having a sibling. In a way he felt closer to Abby than he’d ever felt to his sister, Gianna, who was six years older.

The two of them had played in the sea or the swimming pool. She was fun and bright. He could be his real self around her, able to throw off his cares and relax with her in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. Because she lived on the grounds and knew the inner workings of the palace, she already had the understanding of what it was to be a royal. They didn’t have to talk about it.

When his mother had died, Abby had joined him on long walks, offering comfort. When he didn’t want anyone else around, he wanted her. She’d lost her mother, too, and understood what he was going through. She asked nothing from him, wanted nothing but to be his friend and share small confidences. Because they’d been in each other’s lives on a continual basis, he realized it was inevitable that they’d bonded and had developed a trust.

She’d been so woven into the fabric of his life that years later, when she’d offered to be a surrogate mother for him and Michelina, it all seemed part of the same piece. His wife had liked Abby a great deal. The three of them had been in consultation for several months before the procedure had been performed. They’d worked like a team until Michelina’s unexpected death.

He’d gotten used to their meetings with the doctor and the psychologist. While he’d been away on business, it had felt like years instead of weeks since he’d seen or talked to Abby. Now that she was carrying Vincenzo’s son or daughter, she was his lifeline from here on out. He needed to see her and be with her.

All he could think about was getting back to make certain she and the baby were doing well. But accompanying this need was an uncomfortable sense of guilt he couldn’t shake. Less than two months ago he’d lost his wife. While still in mourning over the marriage that had been less than perfect, he now found himself concentrating on another woman, who was carrying the baby he and Michelina had made.