The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American: Sovalon Royals Book Two Read online

  Sovalon Royals

  The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant

  The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American

  The Billionaire Prince’s Single Mother

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JULY 2020

  Copyright © 2020 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

  www.relaypub.com

  Blurb

  There isn’t much Marcus Ashton, third prince of Sovalon, likes more than a spirited night out, a beautiful woman on his arm (and in his bed), and a fine glass of whiskey. However, when his playboy exploits get to be too much for the royal family, he’s ordered to take a step back from his frivolous lifestyle and work on a serious project. But when he sees American Kyra Rogers, a consultant to the board he’s been forced to join for the women and children’s crisis center, he just can’t resist one last night of fun. While they both agree afterward that their one-night stand was a mistake, Marcus finds himself intrigued by Kyra, who is far different from the type of woman he’s normally attracted to. She’s as smart and serious as she is sexy. So when Kyra finds out she’s pregnant, Marcus wonders if this is a sign that it’s time to grow up and prove he’s worthy of being a father.

  Kyra has always regarded herself as a no-nonsense, self-made woman. She’s handled everything life has thrown at her, and she has no problem with the idea of raising her child alone. Though her and Marcus must work closely while they check out a possible site for the crisis center, Kyra is determined to keep their relationship strictly professional. She has no interest in co-parenting and is fully prepared to return to the United States once her job is done. There’s only one problem: as soon as Marcus learns about the baby, he starts trying to prove he’s perfect father and husband material. Kyra knows better—once a player, always a player. Besides, she doesn’t need a man in her life—even if this man is becoming more and more appealing every day. If only he wasn’t so charming. So darned sexy. So determined. If only she could figure out a way to deny what her heart is feeling…

  USA Today Bestseller Leslie North presents another oh-so-satisfying billionaire romance with an unforgettably hot-blooded bad boy royal and the unyielding woman who tames him...

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  (Sovalon Royals Book Two)

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  End of The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American

  Thank you!

  About Leslie

  Sneak Peek: The Billionaire Prince’s Single Mother

  Also by Leslie

  1

  Sovalon’s Center for Social Welfare buzzed with stiff suits and ties, women with their hair in tight buns and men with thin-rimmed glasses perched on their noses. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get to their cubicles or meetings so they could tackle whatever pressing things were on their agendas this morning.

  Prince Marcus Ashton was in no hurry.

  He groaned inwardly, dreading the idea of spending an entire day trapped inside this building, at a board meeting for the new women and children’s crisis shelter that was being constructed in the city center of the kingdom.

  “It will be a good experience for you, dear,” Queen Therese had said just yesterday at the castle. “It will ground you and show you how others struggle. You can afford to learn some compassion, Marcus.”

  “You know I’m compassionate, Mother,” he’d argued, and she’d placed a hand on his arm.

  “Remember your friend Timmy from primary school?”

  How could Marcus forget? Timmy was always showing up with bruises on his dirty face, and he’d had no coat to wear in the winter. Marcus had thought his family was poor, but he came to realize it was more than that. Timmy’s father was abusive to his mother and thought nothing of shoving Timmy around as well. Marcus had gone to his parents about it, and they’d tried to help Timmy’s mother. It hadn’t ended well.

  “Your work on the crisis center will ultimately help women like Timmy’s mother,” the queen said.

  Her words had hit home, just as she’d expected. But that didn’t mean he was optimistic about being able to make a difference. In order to do some good on the board, the others would have to take him seriously, and that hardly seemed likely.

  No one ever had before, after all.

  “More importantly,” his father, King Hanson, echoed a note of sternness in his voice. “It will be a lesson in responsibility. You are to take this position seriously, Marcus. Time for you to grow up and put the playboy antics to rest.”

  “Father, I can handle responsibility,” Marcus had argued, but his father scoffed, as usual.

  “I find it hard to take you at your word.” The King placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “This position is your chance to show us what you’re capable of. Do a good job, and you’ll secure your inheritance and your position in the kingdom.”

  “I know you can do it, Marcus.” Despite her encouraging words, his mother was wringing her hands as if she were altogether unsure of him.

  Marcus sighed and attempted to argue. “This is just punishment for—”

  “Watch your step, son,” his father scolded. “If you end up in the press again for anything other than your stellar work on this crisis shelter, I’ll have to consider somewhere else to invest your inheritance money. Are we clear?”

  Blaming him for the fact that his short-lived fling with that dignitary’s daughter had blown up into a saucy front-page scandal was really unfair. It wasn’t as if he’d known she was engaged to someone else. When he’d met Marta, she hadn’t let on that she was attached. Only later, when pictures of them snogging in the corner of a nightclub wound up plastered on the pages of every gossip mag, had he found out about her engagement to the Prince of Jovingston.

  He wasn’t the one who’d cheated while in a committed relationship. But according to his parents, it was his fault that Marta’s wedding was now on hold. Marcus was, as always, the irresponsible playboy. Every time the tabloids took a picture of him doing a shot at a club or with a different girl on his arm, his father would scold him for bringing shame on the kingdom or disgracing their family name. But this time, he’d decided to take a step beyond just scolding. This ti
me, Marcus’s inheritance was on the line. Quiet down, stay out of the tabloids, and serve on the board to get the shelter built like a good boy, or lose everything.

  Worse than the ultimatum was how certain his father seemed to be that he’d fail. Just because he enjoyed a variety of women and liked to party didn’t mean he couldn’t be accountable. He could hold down a job—especially when all it entailed was attending some meetings.

  He had no burning desire to do so, but he could if he had to.

  “Prove it,” his father had said.

  And so, at seven a.m., an hour far too early for his liking, Marcus had forced himself out from under his comfortable silk sheets. He’d shaved and dressed in this tragically dull and conservative—and uncomfortable—suit and prepared himself for what would surely be the most boring experience of his life.

  Inside the boardroom, he slid into a chair at a long table that was filled with serious-looking individuals, each one studying a pile of papers in front of him or her. Marcus didn’t have papers to study. No one had bothered to send them to him.

  He was about to lay his head on the table when a deep voice yanked him from his well of self-pity.

  “Good morning, Prince Marcus.”

  Marcus peered up into the face of Dr. James Meriter, president of the board. He stood from his chair and shook Meriter’s outstretched hand.

  “Glad to be able to serve with you,” Marcus said, unsure of what to say. “This is a great project, a worthy cause.”

  “Yes,” Meriter said tightly, his lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “This is a serious undertaking. We are quite committed to creating a positive space for women and children who have been through tough times.”

  “Of course,” Marcus replied. “Me too… I mean I’m committed as well.”

  Meriter eyed him suspiciously. “Prince Marcus, with all due respect, I have to be honest and tell you your father confided in me that it was his idea to place you on this board, a way to teach you some responsibility.”

  Marcus nodded. What was Meriter getting at?

  “I do hope you’re earnest in your efforts here and that you will avoid behaviors that might shed a negative light on our project.”

  Marcus felt fingers of aggravation crawl up his neck and onto his face. His fists curled, and he had to stifle the urge to snap back with a sharp retort. It was galling to be scolded like a schoolboy, but throwing a tantrum over it would just confirm the man’s poor opinion of him.

  “You don’t have to worry, Dr. Meriter,” Marcus replied with all the self-control he could muster. “I’m all business on this project.”

  “Good,” Meriter said, but he continued to eye Marcus suspiciously. Marcus wanted to punch him. It was bad enough he was stuck on this damn project, but now he had to put up with Meriter’s arrogant ass all day?

  “We’re about to get started, everyone,” Meriter announced. “Please take your seats.”

  As Marcus slunk back into his chair, the office door swung opened. A striking, dark-skinned woman about his age sailed into the room.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said to Meriter. Marcus noticed she had an American accent. Sexy.

  “Miss Rogers, welcome,” Meriter said. “We’re so happy to have you with us.” He looked at his watch. “Seems to me you’re right on time.”

  Amen to that, Marcus thought.

  “Team, I’d like to take a moment to introduce our newest consultant.” Meriter gestured to the beautiful and professional-looking woman. “Kyra Rogers is with us all the way from Atlanta, Georgia. She’s got an impressive resume in social work and has served on several strategic boards like ours to oversee the creation of crisis shelters in the states.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Meriter,” Kyra said and took her seat.

  Meriter rambled on for a little while after that, updating everyone on where the project stood. Marcus tried to pay attention, but it was all so dry that he noticed even the others around him couldn’t keep their attention fully focused. Marcus let his mind wander until he heard that intriguing American voice again.

  “I have some ideas, including partnering with local nonprofits to receive clothing and toy donations, as well as working with the Women’s Business Stars Association to procure interviews for our residents—things that will help our residents become independent and re-establish themselves as community members once they are ready.”

  Just hearing Kyra’s voice had him engrossed in a way he hadn’t been for the whole meeting. Her Southern accent exuded warmth and intelligence, and he couldn’t stop listening. Suddenly, this project had become much more interesting.

  On a whim, he decided to jump into the conversation.

  “I have a friend who works in fashion merchandizing,” Marcus said. Several board members looked at him as if he had three heads. He knew they weren’t taking him seriously, but he went on. “I’m sure she would be thrilled to come in and help the women put together interview attire.”

  At first no one said anything, but Kyra piped up.

  “That’s a fantastic idea.” She smiled broadly at him. “We do something back home like this. Our residents are given the opportunity to come into a partnering resale shop, and someone is assigned to help them choose the right things. It’s like having a personal shopper for a few hours, and the women really feel valued afterwards. Not to mention, having the right clothes is a big help in making a woman feel confident and prepared for an interview.”

  “I’m sure my friend would be willing to donate her time for something like that,” Marcus said, feeling that he’d been able to bring something constructive to the conversation.

  “We should probably focus on funding for the structure now,” Meriter said. “We can come back to things like transition for the residents later. Clothes are a secondary concern compared to putting a roof over their heads.”

  Marcus had no ideas for funding. He zoned out for a while until Kyra started talking again. “So, basically the funding for construction of the facility and its workings should be covered. We’ll need to start partnering with nonprofits for things like self-care products, food, personal care needs.”

  “Local grocery stores,” Marcus interjected. “I’m sure if given the opportunity to donate, they would.”

  Kyra beamed at him.

  “I like the way your mind works, Mr. …” She paused and he filled in the blank.

  “Marcus,” he replied and shot her a grin. “Marcus Ashton, third prince of Sovalon.”

  She nodded. “Well, I like your approach of involving the community in this project. Community support is a huge factor when it comes to the success or failure of a place like the women’s shelter. Thanks so much for your input.”

  “Happy to share it,” he said and grinned at her.

  As the day dragged on, Marcus found himself unable to keep his eyes off of Kyra. He knew he was supposed to be keeping a low profile and avoiding any new romantic entanglements, but would it really be a crime to get to know the young American better? As board members began closing up shop for the evening, Marcus made his decision.

  “Kyra.” He approached her as she packed up her things. She looked up at him and smiled, and he took note of her dark doe eyes. “I loved your ideas today,” he said. “It’s so refreshing to have you join us to share your expertise all the way from Georgia.” He tried to pronounce the state with a Southern twang, and she chuckled at his attempt.

  “Glad to be here, Prince Marcus,” she said and eyed him pleasantly. “Or am I supposed to call you ‘your majesty’? I have to admit. I’ve never met a prince before.”

  “Well, then today is your lucky day,” Marcus joked. “And please, call me Marcus. How about we get out of here and go out for a few drinks? We can get to know each other a bit better.”

  A blush rose onto Kyra’s cheeks, making Marcus’s heart pound in his chest.

  “I know a great place just around the corner from here.” He tossed his satchel over his shoulder and started for the door, expecting h
er to follow.

  “It’s so kind of you to invite me, but I need to get back to my hotel,” she said. Was she rejecting him?

  This was new.

  Disappointment flooded over him. Most women he’d met jumped at the opportunity to join Marcus for anything—a drink, a good time. The fact that Kyra didn’t, made him want to get to know her even more.

  * * *

  Kyra tried to avoid Prince Marcus’s eyes and continued packing up her things. “I’m still a bit jet lagged, and I have a lot of work to do to get ready for tomorrow’s meeting.” As the words left her lips, she could feel the blush crawl up her neck and onto her cheeks, betraying that she wasn’t quite as calm and nonchalant as she was trying to appear.

  “Oh,” he said, looking a bit taken aback.

  “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d just turned down an invitation from a prince.

  An extremely sexy prince, for that matter.

  But she’d had to. This trip to Europe was not a vacation. It was a chance to prove herself. She’d been waiting for months for the chance to show Lance, her boss, that she was worthy of a promotion at Lifestrings, the highly regarded social services consulting group she worked for back in the US. She’d never had an assignment this high profile before. In truth, she wasn’t supposed to have this assignment, which had originally gone to Lance. But when Lance fell ill, his supervisor had asked her to go instead. She knew the minute they asked her to go that this was it—her chance to prove herself.