Leah Ashton: His Pregnant Christmas Princess

From runaway bride…

To pregnant princess!

When Princess Ana runs out on her wedding, she needs a place to hide—fast! Family friend and sexy security tycoon Rhys North’s Italian hideaway proves the perfect place to escape scandal. Until she has one unforgettable night in the arms of the brooding ex-soldier… When Ana’s duty calls, they must go their separate ways, but as Christmas approaches, Ana realizes she’s carrying an unexpected gift…Rhys’s baby!

RITA® award-winning author LEAH ASHTON lives in Perth, Western Australia, and writes happy-ever-afters for heroines who definitely don’t need saving. She has a gorgeous husband, two amazing daughters, and the best intentions to plan meals and maintain an effortlessly tidy home. When she’s not writing Leah loves all-day breakfast, rambling conversations and laughing until she cries. She really hates cucumber. And scary movies. You can visit Leah at leah-ashton.comor facebook.com/leahashtonauthor.

Also by Leah Ashton

Secrets and Speed Dating

A Girl Less Ordinary

Why Resist a Rebel?

Nine-Month Countdown

The Billionaire from Her Past

Behind the Billionaire’s Guarded Heart

The Prince’s Fake Fiancée

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

His Pregnant Christmas Princess

Leah Ashton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07848-1

HIS PREGNANT CHRISTMAS PRINCESS

© 2018 Leah Ashton

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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For Linley.

A wonderful friend, and a wonderful writer.

(Also, for Gidget. Just because.)

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

THE VELA ADA CITY LIBRARY was usually bustling on a Wednesday afternoon. Students would be studying at the small cluster of high-sided carrel desks beyond the rows of bookshelves, or chatting in groups on the brightly coloured sofas. Toddlers would try to sit neatly cross-legged beside babies cradled on parents’ laps, listening in rapt attention to stories or nursery rhymes read by one of the librarians. And, of course, library patrons of every age would dot the aisles, or borrow books at the self-serve kiosks, or come to ask questions at the information desk.

Ana Tomasich stood at that information desk now, but the library was empty and silent. In her hand she held an opened envelope made of thick, expensive paper, and she turned that envelope over and over in her hands, rubbing her thumb occasionally over the elaborately embossed broken seal.

Outside, it was already dark on the tiny Mediterranean island, with the sun setting at four p.m. this Christmas Eve. Through the large glass windows at the front of the historic sandstone library building she could see the streets, crisscrossed with Christmas lights stretching between the cast-iron lamp posts that edged the cobblestone streets of Vela Ada’s modest capital city.

If she stood at a particular angle near the large print section, Ana knew she would also be able to see the huge, towering Christmas tree that stood, magnificent and twinkling, outside City Hall, only a short walk down the street. And from next to the after-hours return chute she’d have a view all the way down to the Vela Ada marina, also decked out in elaborate Christmas lights, with angels and stars glittering above the swell of the Adriatic Sea.

But for now Ana was perfectly happy to just stand in the quiet of the library, her gaze travelling aimlessly over the paper angels that hung from the ceiling—she’d helped a group of six-year-olds to make them last week—and then to the four Christmas trees of varying heights that she and the other librarians had had great fun decorating, with lights and other arts and crafts creations from the children who visited the library.

This year she’d had some of the older kids plant pšenica —wheat—in saucers, for the Feast of St Lucia. Tradition stated that the height of the wheat by Christmas directly correlated to the luck and prosperity you would experience the following year. The saucers had all grown tall, bushy wheat—but, although Ana couldn’t really define her emotions right now, she wouldn’t say she was feeling lucky.

The library had closed early today and would open again in the New Year. All the other library staff had headed home, but Ana had volunteered to lock up, not in a hurry to do last-minute shopping or wrap presents.

As the only child of an only child, she didn’t exactly have a lot of family to buy gifts for—just her mother and her grandparents, Baba and Dida. She’d been organised enough to buy their presents weeks ago, although she would need to wrap them at some point before Midnight Mass later this evening. But still—she had plenty of time.