European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series Page 13

  * * *

  Amy held up another top from her closet and sighed. “Why do I even bother? Honestly, none of this fits. I’m going to have to go shopping if I want my wardrobe to be up to the task in Stolvenia.”

  Her best friend, Petra Holliday, met her eyes in the full-length mirror attached to the closet door that was still closed, an amused smile on her lips. “Your current wardrobe has done just fine at the office. So insulting.”

  With a snort, Amy hung the top back in her closet. “I got a week’s worth of new clothes, just because I knew you’d want me to.”

  “And I so appreciate it,” Petra said, holding up her phone and reclining on Amy’s bed. It was Saturday, and the two of them wore leggings and tanks for a relaxing morning in. “But I think the more important consideration is what you’re going to say to Prince Artur when you get there.”

  Amy frowned into the closet, not meeting Petra’s eyes. It was all a bit...unconventional, from her original job to this new assignment. She’d joined Petra’s firm knowing that working for and with her college best friend would be a risk. Friendships had been destroyed over much less in the history of the world, and Amy didn’t want that for herself. The way that everything had turned out for the best had been a pleasant surprise.

  Discovering she was pregnant with the prince’s baby had been…a different kind of surprise.

  The condom must’ve broken, though honestly Amy hadn’t been paying attention at the time. She’d been busy looking out at the New York City skyline and reveling at the sensation of Prince Artur’s lips on the side of her neck, his hand tugging at her hair, while he was driving into her with his—

  She shook her head, trying to keep herself firmly in the present. It had been a one-night stand, and nothing more. Amy certainly wasn’t going to force herself into a relationship with him just because she’d turned out to be pregnant. That would be worse for her, when it came to appearances, than simply taking single motherhood in stride.

  Which she had, to her shock. It hadn’t made any sense when her period didn’t arrive. It was only after she’d hurled in Petra’s kitchen garbage that her best friend suggested a pregnancy test. The sentence had stopped her in her tracks.

  “I don’t think I can go,” Amy said, pulling her closet closed and flopping down on the bed next to Petra. “I don’t have anything to wear.” Now that she was five months pregnant, nothing fit because her belly had popped, which was why she’d finally had to give in and buy maternity clothes. But it seemed so...frivolous, buying a whole business wardrobe when she’d only be pregnant for four more months. Amy had limited herself to pieces that would last a week if she mixed and matched...and did laundry every week. Twice. She probably wouldn’t have that kind of time in Stolvenia.

  She could feel Petra considering her. “Just expense it to the account when you get there. But you know you’re going to have to say something about the fact that you’re sporting a pregnant belly.”

  Amy sighed. “And you know that I tried to reach out when I...discovered all this was happening. But there’s no way to call Prince Artur and speak privately.”

  “They have cell phones in Stolvenia.”

  “I don’t have his number.” Amy pushed herself up on her elbow. “And neither do you. We’ve been over this, Petra.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  “Maybe I’ll just show him the picture of the home pregnancy tests.” Petra looked disgusted, and Amy laughed. The tests themselves had long been relegated to the garbage bin, but she’d taken the picture to remind herself that it was happening.

  “You know, he might take one look at you and do the math for himself. You should be ready with an answer.”

  Amy looked down at her bedspread. Maybe he would. But it wasn’t as if she’d been on Prince Artur’s mind. She might not have his phone number, but he had the number to her private line at work. Clearly, she hadn’t made so much of an impression that he hadn’t been able to resist contacting her in the months since then.

  “I’m serious, Amy. I’m...a little worried about what you’re going to do when this is all in the open.”

  She sat up straight, tossing her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to PR the hell out of Prince Artur. That’ll give me enough on-the-ground experience to head up your new European branch.”

  Petra looked skeptical. “I don’t doubt your ability to do that at all. And if I do put you in that role—which would be crazy, since I’d be sending my best friend to live across the ocean for god knows how long—it would be nice for you to have the experience. But a job isn’t going to solve this.”

  “I’m not worried about solving it, P.” Amy raised her chin an inch. “I’ll just keep things under control. It’ll work out.”

  “This is going to be more complicated than you think,” Petra insisted.

  “Not if this pregnancy isn’t the center of attention. And I don’t intend it to be. I’ll just keep my head down, do the same killer job I’ve always done for you—” Amy reached out and patted Petra’s hand. Petra laughed. “—and everything will be fine.” She stood up from the bed, stretching. “Now. The more pressing matter is that I’m starving.”

  “We just went out for breakfast.”

  Amy grinned, heading for the door. “So how about brunch?”

  3

  Artur had never once whistled on his way to a meeting involving anyone from the palace’s PR team. Those inevitably featured bad news couched in careful praise that was meant to make him feel like he’d done his best, but something hadn’t measured up. Those people could tie themselves in knots trying to diplomatically tell Artur that his vacation in Bali had been an excellent example of international outreach, but the fact that his out-of-control party had done significant damage to a luxury suite necessitated a bit of outreach on everyone’s behalf.

  Luckily, that wasn’t the case this time. He’d been on such a tight leash that there was no chance of destroying anything, and this meeting wasn’t with just anyone. It was with Amy Branch.

  She’d landed in Stolvenia yesterday, and it was like he could feel her presence in the air. They’d all decided—his brothers and Kostya and Zia—that Amy could head up the renewed efforts to repair his image, since the gala in New York had been the only success they’d had in months. Nobody needed to say the rest of it, which was that things in Stolvenia were precarious when it came to the monarchy’s stability. He already knew. Everyone already knew.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to fret about it. He was meeting with the most intelligent, beautiful woman he’d ever met.

  He made his way to the wing of the palace where Rafael had his offices with a spring in his step. They’d set up a command center of sorts down a side hallway for Amy. That way, she’d have easy access to the palace personnel she needed. And since Artur lived in his own wing of the palace, it made things easier for everyone.

  This was going to be the turning point. He could feel it. Maybe he could finally be more than the prince who provided entertainment. Maybe she could help him strike a balance so that people would also see him as a good prince, an asset to the country. At his age, it was probably time.

  Amy wasn’t in the office suite when he arrived. He’d never seen this part of the palace before—why would he have bothered?—and he was a little surprised to see how large the room was. Zia had told him it was one of the smaller offices, but it had an attached bathroom. “She’ll need it,” Zia had said. Artur wondered why for a fleeting moment, then forgot all about it.

  “Good morning, Prince Artur.”

  Artur turned at the sound of Amy’s voice. The first thing he noticed was her eyes. They were blue, shining with determination. She looked ready to tackle this assignment.

  The second thing he noticed sent a cold shock through his body. But...she couldn’t be.

  “I trust you have everything you need.” Kostya had come in behind her. “If there’s anything you’re missing, don’t hesitate to let me know.
”

  “I won’t.” She turned and shook Kostya’s hand. “It was so nice to meet you. And thank you for the tour of the palace.”

  Kostya shot Artur a look. “There’s much more than meets the eye,” he said, then excused himself.

  Artur had seen...everything, though his mind could hardly process it. When Amy had turned to shake Kostya’s hand, the baby bump had been unmistakable. The cut of the sheath dress, which was clearly made for a pregnant woman, made it obvious. She wasn’t hiding anything.

  He realized he was still standing there with his mouth open. Amy blushed, holding her head up high. “Yes. The baby is yours. I’ve been trying to contact you, but there’s no way to reach you without having to explain a million different things to a million different people, and I didn’t want the news—”

  Artur caught his breath. “What do you mean the baby is mine?”

  Amy turned a darker shade of red. “I thought you—when you looked at me like that, I thought you must have done the math.”

  The laugh that tore out of his throat sounded a little wild, even to him. “I was still processing the sight, honestly. I thought maybe you’d gotten married. Or had already been married when we—”

  “I would never do that,” insisted Amy. “No way. Go home with another man if I was—no.” She took a big breath in and let it out. “Look. It’s—it’s your baby. I tried to tell you when I first found out, but getting ahold of the royal family for personal news is next to impossible.”

  Artur’s head spun. “You could have...called. You could have emailed.”

  Amy gave him a skeptical look. “You know that your email is vetted, right? I couldn’t just send some cryptic message to your public address.”

  Come to think of it, Artur did know this. It was only that he didn’t much bother with checking the email. It was a kind of public letterbox, and occasionally one of the palace staff brought some message or other to his attention. He assumed it was the same with his brothers. The email addresses only existed so that the people of Stolvenia felt like they had direct access, when in fact it wasn’t direct at all. “I did know that. I’m only—” He ran a hand through his hair.

  “I didn’t want to take the chance that this information might get leaked. And it seemed wrong to leverage my connection to the firm and go through palace staff.” She bit her lip. “It took me by surprise, too.”

  “Well, I—” Artur didn’t know what to say. He knew what kinds of things men said in the movies, when a woman came to tell them she was pregnant with their baby. But this was no movie. This was real life, stark and cold as it ever was.

  “You don’t have to say anything now.” Amy came farther into the office, walking briskly around where Artur stood and stepping behind the desk. She pulled the chair out and sat down. “I’m here to do a job.” She folded her hands on top of the desk. “Getting to tell you this news in person is...just a bonus. I’m glad you know—but now we can put it behind us. It doesn’t have to be an issue going forward.”

  He came to the other side of the desk and sat down across from her, woodenly, as if he was sitting down for a meeting with Kostya or Zia. His mind was still struggling to sort out what she’d said, as if she’d put the words in front of him in the form of a complicated puzzle. One by one, they clicked into place...and then he found his voice.

  “Hold on. I’m not about to just put this behind us. For better or for worse, I’m involved now.” When she was sitting down, Artur could only see the top of her bump, but there it was. It was real. She was pregnant, and it was his. “I’ve made a baby with you. It doesn’t get much more involved than that.”

  Something about her expression changed, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. She’d clearly gone from personal news mode to professional mode.

  “You’ve got enough problems as it is,” Amy said briskly, opening a folder in front of her on the desk and scanning the sheet on top. “Now is not the time to add the complication of an unexpected pregnancy resulting from a one-night stand. We’re not even in a relationship. Can you imagine the headlines?” She snapped the folder shut and looked back up at him.

  Artur didn’t care about the headlines, he cared about real life. “There have always been headlines. There will always be headlines. But this is the situation we’re in. You’re the PR professional. Can’t you find a...positive way to spin it?”

  She shot him a look that was so sharp it almost broke his skin. “I’m not spinning a baby. The baby will be kept out of this, as far as I’m concerned. Out of the public eye. Out of the spotlight.”

  Artur snorted. “You think as the public face of my team, you’re going to be out of the spotlight? The child has no chance of being kept in the shadows either, if that’s what you were thinking. A royal baby has to step into the public eye sooner or later.”

  “My child will be given the choice when they’re old enough to decide that for themselves.” Amy’s voice was absolutely firm. “I’m not putting anyone in any kind of spotlight until they’re ready. Until they’re willing.” She dropped a hand to rest protectively on her bump, and something about the motion made Artur realize that repeated insistence wasn’t likely to get him anywhere on this. However, he knew a thing or two about living life as a member of the royal family. Things didn’t stay swept under the rug, no matter how much a person wanted them to. He and his brothers had learned to cope with this in their own way, and the baby in Amy’s belly would have to learn to cope with it, too.

  For now, the only thing he could do was back off. “All right,” he said, knowing even as he said it that he wasn’t conceding this argument.

  Amy looked down at the surface of her desk. “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I shouldn’t have—that wasn’t professional. I need to be professional. We—both need to keep this professional.”

  Artur didn’t see how that was going to happen. Nothing of a more personal nature had ever happened to him in his life, and it had to be the same for Amy. After all, she was the one who was pregnant. But perhaps this wasn’t the moment to argue that point.

  “I’m here to help you,” Amy went on. “It’s my job to make sure that things go smoothly for you and, by extension, for the rest of the royal family.” She met his eyes, and he saw a fiery sincerity there. “I want us to work together on that.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “And we have...plenty of time to figure out the baby stuff, too.”

  That, at least, helped him to relax, at least a little. Artur suspected his head might never clear fully from learning this news, but at least this meeting could continue on without any more bombshells. He hoped. “I’d like that,” he said, giving her a smile that she returned with only a moment’s hesitation. “We can...put a pin in this conversation, if you will.” He allowed himself one more glance at her bump, then vowed to focus firmly on the PR matters at hand and nothing else.

  “So.” Amy flipped through a couple of pages in the folder with a brisk snap snap snap . “I had some ideas for how we could modify the existing PR strategy—”

  She continued speaking, but his awareness of her voice faded out. Artur couldn’t stop thinking about the baby. Their baby. She was pregnant. He’d sworn to keep his head in the game, but here he was, caught in a whirlwind. Was it a boy or a girl? When was she due? The questions burned in his mind, but it wasn’t the time to ask them...she’d made that clear. Oh, my god, he was going to be a father. What relationship would he have with his child? Was she going back to the States?

  He stood up so fast he almost knocked his chair over. “You’ll have to excuse me.” Amy stared up at him, eyes wide. “I have to step out.”

  4

  Amy took one of her maternity tops from her suitcase and grabbed a hanger from the wardrobe. When she turned to put the top on the hanger she almost collided with the maid, who laughed.

  “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  She managed a weak smile at the girl, whose name was...Sasha. Yes. Amy’s head was still spinni
ng from the meeting with Artur. That had ended rather abruptly. And wow, had she messed up on that delivery. The look on his face—

  She’d never misread an expression so completely in her entire life.

  “I know I’m supposed to be resting, Sasha, but I just feel restless after the plane ride.”

  “Didn’t you touch down yesterday morning?” Sasha hung up one of her skirts. “I’ve never traveled across the ocean, so I don’t know what it’s like to fly for so long.”

  “Yes,” Amy admitted. And she’d felt rested and recovered when she woke up this morning. She’d stayed one night in a hotel at the center of the city in a beautiful suite, and her things had all been brought over while she was in the meeting with Artur. “Yes, I did.”

  Sasha glanced at her belly. “I still think you should rest.”

  Amy knew when she was being gently told to get out of the way, so she went back out into the living room of her suite.

  This place was massive. Too massive for a member of the staff. Honestly, Amy had expected to stay in the hotel until she found a place of her own to rent, but then word had come from the palace that it would be simpler to stay close for the time being. Amy had had a moment of disbelief when she thought the solicitousness was because they’d somehow learned about the baby, but then she’d met Kostya. Kostya had informed her that it was best for her to be immediately on hand. Amy didn’t expect any outright PR disasters, but she was working for them now, so...here she was. In a suite in the guest wing of the royal palace. Guest wing or not, she thought it was fit for a queen.

  And...she couldn’t relax. Not after that meeting. Moving helped. Dancing—her usual stress reliever—would be even better, but maybe not with the maid here. She shifted her weight from foot to foot in front of the huge windows while Sasha bustled from her suitcases to the walk-in closet.

  “Where are you from, Ms. Branch?”