Amy Ruttan - His Pregnant Royal Bride

The only reason she had clearance to take this job was because it was less strenuous than the assignment she was originally on. Running a training and simulation program, as well as assisting a trauma surgeon in the operating theatre, should be a breeze.

The problem was, she hadn’t taken a break.

Her blood sugar was dropping and she needed to eat something.

Something decent.

And she needed rest.

Dante might think their conversation wasn’t over, but as far as she was concerned it was for the evening. She was going to head back to the villa she and her friend Danica were sharing, eat and get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day; she was going to run her first simulation.

She got up and found her way back to the small office she had been given on the other side of the hospital. She grabbed her purse and sweater. She headed toward the back door and from there it was a short walk to the house the United World Wide Health Association had rented for their staff.

If she had a moment, she’d talk to Dante again and tell him again that she wasn’t going to marry him.

Convenience or not, she was a big girl and could take care of herself.

She didn’t need his protection.

As she stepped outside she was blinded by flashing lights and a rush of people crowded her, pressing her back against the wall. She shielded her face, but she couldn’t understand what they were asking her.

She caught a few words, like prince and baby.

Then there was a roar and string of loud, harsh words and strong arms came around her, pulling her close, and she realized it was Dante, shielding her. She clung to him as he shouted at the group of reporters and ushered her back inside. Once they were back inside and the shouting from the mob of reporters was drowned out, she sighed in relief.

“What in the world...?”

“The press got word that you might be carrying my heir,” Dante snapped.

“That’s what they were asking me?”

“Sì,” he said, his dark eyes twinkling with a dangerous light, his hands on his hips, and he began to curse in Italian again.

“I thought that Italian princes were common?” Shay said, mimicking him. “I mean, not like the British royal family...”

“Yes, but with my family there is a bit more scandal. So my brother and I are often in the spotlight. We’re favorites of the paparazzi.”

“And I just gave them their latest scoop.” She ran a hand over her belly. “Is this going to happen all the time?”

Dante scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sì.”

“So that’s what you meant by protecting me?” she asked.

He nodded curtly. “Where are you staying?”

“At the United World Wide Health Association house. It’s not far from here.”

He shook his head. “Not tonight, you’re not. You’re coming to my place.”

“I am not!” she said, getting annoyed with him.

“You’re going to cause a bigger scandal if you don’t agree to my marriage suggestion, especially if the child is mine,” Dante snapped. “You could ruin my reputation at this hospital.”

Shay bit her lip. She didn’t want to ruin his career or his reputation. “You want a marriage of convenience?”

“Sì, that way I can protect you. I have a restraining order against the paparazzi and it will protect you also, if you marry me.”

“So just on paper we’ll be married.”

“Sì, but to make it look real you will have to move into my home for a year.” He rolled his neck and tugged at the collar of his shirt, as if it were suffocating him. It clearly bothered him just as much as it bothered her.

“Do you have enough room?” Shay asked.

He chuckled. “I have an entire villa to myself on the Lido di Venezia. I can give you your own wing if you desire. Just say yes. Let me protect you and our child.”

Even though she should say no, she didn’t want paparazzi stopping her and accosting her when she moved around Venice. Especially where there was a language barrier. Dante could keep them at bay. She ran her hand over her belly again.

This was his baby too. Even if he didn’t believe it at the moment.

What choice did she have? It was just for a year. Only she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t agree to the marriage.

“You’re coming with me,” Dante said. “We’ll get the paternity test done now, put this doubt to rest.”

“I don’t have a say in this?”

“No, you don’t.”

And she had a feeling this was one of many arguments she was going to have with him over the course of the next twelve weeks. He’d won this round, but she’d win the next.

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