Dynasties

January 2020

Dynasties: The Jarrods

February 2020

Dynasties: The Ashtons

March 2020

Dynasties: The Danforths

April 2020

Dynasties: The Barones

May 2020

Dynasties: The Lassiters

June 2020

Dynasties: The Montoros

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author KATHERINE GARBERA is a two-time Maggie winner who has written more than ninety books. A Florida native who grew up to travel the globe, Katherine now makes her home in the Midlands of the UK with her husband, two children and a very spoiled miniature dachshund. Visit her on the web at http://www.katherinegarbera.com, connect with her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter @katheringarbera

Carrying a King’s Child

Katherine Garbera

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-00319-3

CARRYING A KING’S CHILD

2015 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 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.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

About the Publisher

This book is for my Facebook posse who are always willing to chat about hot guys, good reads and the general craziness of life.

One

Emily Fielding was shaking as she stepped off the elevator into the foyer of Rafael Montoro IV’s penthouse in South Beach. The Montoros had settled in Miami, Florida, decades ago, when as the royal family of Alma, they had to flee their European island homeland because of a coup. Now the dictator who’d replaced them was dead and the parliament of Alma wanted the Montoros back.

With Rafe as king.

Great. Happy ending for everyone. Well, everyone except for Emily, the bartender who was pregnant with the soon-to-be-king’s baby. Or at least that was what her gut told her. Her gut and three home pregnancy tests. She wasn’t easy to convince.

She had debated not telling Rafe about the baby, but having grown up without knowing who her father was, she just couldn’t do that to her own child. Sure, she’d had to lie to get up here to his very posh penthouse apartment, and she knew her timing sucked because Rafe had a lot of royal duties to attend to before his coronation, but she was still here.

Getting past security hadn’t been that easy, but she’d made a few calls to friends and found that one of them had a connection to Rafe via a maid service. So she’d used Maria’s pass to get into the gated community and her key to get into his building.

Sneaking around wasn’t her style. Normally. But nothing about this situation was normal.

She was shaking as she stood on the Italian marble floor and let the air-conditioning dry the sweat at the small of her back. Luxurious and well appointed, the apartment was exactly the sort of place where she expected to find Rafe. His family might have fled Alma in the middle of the night, but they’d brought their dignity and their determination with them to the United States and this generation of Montoros had truly flourished.

Rafe was the CEO of Montoro Enterprises. He had been featured in Forbes long before the recent developments in Alma. He’d earned the wealth she saw around him, and the fact that he played as hard as he worked was something she could respect. She played hard, too.

She forced herself not to touch her stomach. Not to draw attention to the one thing that changed everything. Since she’d looked at that stick in the bathroom and realized she was going to have a baby, everything had changed.

Pretending that there was more to her visit than ensuring that her child would know who its father was would be stupid. A wealthy businessman she could have had a shot with, she thought. But not a king.

Still…

She’d seen photos of Alma. With its white sand beaches and castle that looked like something out of a dream, it was a beautiful place. The kind of place that she might have dreamed about as a little girl. A fairy-tale kingdom with a returning prince. Sounded perfect, right?

Except that Rafael Montoro IV was a playboy and they’d had a fling. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to come up with something else to call it, but a two-night stand didn’t cover it, either. One weekend spent in each other’s arms. She could lose herself in the memories if she wasn’t careful.

Hell, she hadn’t been careful. Which was precisely why she was here. Pregnant and determined. She walked down the hallway toward the sounds of Jay-Z playing in the distance. She paused in the doorway of his bedroom.

She’d had to charm her way upstairs, but no way could this wait another moment. Rafe needed to know before he left. She needed to tell him.

She felt queasy and swallowed hard.

There were right and wrong ways to deliver this news, and as appealing to her sense of outrage as it would be to throw up on his carpet, she was hoping for a little sophistication. Just a tiny bit.

After all, she’d seen pictures of his sister and jet-setting mother, though his mother wasn’t really in the picture since her divorce from Rafe III. Still she was an elegant woman.

She cleared her throat.

She listened to Jay-Z and Kanye West singing about how there’s no church in the wild. She almost laughed out loud as she watched Rafe stop packing his suitcase and start to rap along. She leaned against the doorjamb and admitted her anger was really fear. She wasn’t mad at him. She just wanted him to be a different kind of guy so that she could have the fairy tale she wanted.

Not a castle and a title, but a man who loved her. A man who wanted to share his life with her and raise children by her side.

And no matter how fun Rafe was, his path lay somewhere else. He was duty-bound to become the constitutional monarch of Alma. She was determined to return to Key West and live out her life. She wasn’t interested in being involved with a royal; besides, she’d read in the papers that the heirs would have to marry people with spotless reputations.

He was really getting into dancing around the room and rapping.

She applauded when he finished and he turned to look at her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shock apparent on his face.

His body was tense. She suspected he was a tiny bit embarrassed to be caught rapping. Nerves made her mouthy. She knew that. So she should just say she was sorry for using her friend’s key to get into his penthouse.

But that wasn’t her way.

“Hello to you, too, Your Majesty. Should I curtsy or something? I’m not sure of the rules.”

“Neither am I,” he admitted. “Juan Carlos doesn’t like it when I am seen doing something…well, so American but also undignified.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she said. “Who is Juan Carlos?”

“Juan Carlos Salazar II, my cousin, head of the Montoro Family Trust and advocate of decorum at all times.”

“He sounds like a stuffed shirt,” she said. “I doubt I’d meet with his approval.”

“Emily, what are you doing here? And how did you get up here? Security is usually very hard to get past.”

“I have my ways.”

“And they are?” he asked.

“My charm,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’m going to have to warn them about feisty redheads.”

“I actually used a key that I procured from your maid service.”

“You’ve been reduced to criminal behavior. Curiouser and curiouser. Why are you here? Did you decide that you wanted to give me a proper send-off?” he asked. He strode over to her, his big body moving with an economy of motion that captivated her. The same way it had when she’d first glimpsed him in the crowded Key West bar where she worked as a bartender.

He was tall—well over six feet—and muscly, but he moved with grace and she could honestly watch him all day long.

“Why are you here, Red? You said goodbye was forever.”

Goodbye.

She’d meant it when he’d left. He was a rich guy from Miami and experience had shown her they were only in Key West for one thing. Having given it to him she’d wanted to ensure she didn’t give into temptation a second time.

“I did mean it.”

“Help me, Red. I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” he said.

She chewed her lower lip. Up close she could see the flecks of green in his hazel eyes.

He was easily one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. He’d make a killing in Hollywood with those thick eyelashes and those cheekbones. It wouldn’t matter if he could act, just putting him on screen would draw the masses in.

She wished she were immune.

“I’m pregnant.”

He stumbled backward and looked at her as if she’d just started speaking in tongues.

Pregnant!

He stepped back and walked over to the Bose speaker on the dresser to turn off the music. A baby. From what he knew of the tough-as-nails-bartender, he could guess she wouldn’t be standing in his penthouse apartment if he wasn’t the father. His first reaction was joy.

A child.

It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he wanted. He hardly knew Emily so had no idea if she was here for money or something else. But knowing his child was growing inside of her stirred something primal. Something very powerful. The baby was his.

Maybe that was just because it gave him something to think about other than the recent decision that had been made for him.

He’d been dreading his trip to Alma. He was flattered that the country that had once driven his family out had come back to them and asked him to be the next king, but he had grown up here in Florida. He didn’t want to be a stuffy royal.

He didn’t want European paparazzi following him around and trying to catch him doing anything that would bring shame to his family. God, knew he worked and played hard.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear what I said?” Emily asked.

He had. A baby. Lord knew his father hadn’t been the best and as a result, Rafe had thought he’d never have kids. It wasn’t as if either of his parents had set a great example. And he was still young, but damn if he wasn’t feeling much older every day.

“Yeah, I did. Are you sure?” he asked at last.

She gave him a fiery look from those aqua-blue eyes of hers. He’d seen the passionate side of her nature, and he guessed he was about to witness her temper. “Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

He held his hand up.

“Slow down, Red. I didn’t mean are you sure it’s mine. I meant…are you sure you’re pregnant?”

“Damned straight.”

“I get it. I had to take three at-home pregnancy tests and visit the doctor before I believed it myself. But trust me, Rafe. I’m positive I’m pregnant and that the baby is yours.”

“This is a little surreal,” he said.

“I know,” she said, with just a hint of softening on in her tone. “Listen, I know you can’t turn your back on your family and marry me and frankly, we only had one weekend together so I’d have to say no. But…I don’t want this kid to grow up without any knowledge of you.”

“Me either.”

She glanced up, surprised.

To be honest, he sort of surprised himself. But he knew all the things not to do as a dad thanks to his own father. It didn’t seem right for a kid of his to grow up without him. He wanted that. If he had a child, he wanted a chance to share the Montoro legacy…not the one newly sprung on him that came with a throne, but the one he’d carved out for himself in business. “Don’t look shocked.”

“You’ve kind of got a lot going on right now. And having a kid with me isn’t going to go over well.”

“Tough,” he said. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to be king of Alma. He and his siblings hadn’t grown up with the attitude that they were royalty. They were regular American kids who’d never expected to go back to Alma. “I still make my own decisions.”

“I know that,” she said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve just been so crazy since I realized I was pregnant and alone. I didn’t know what to do. You know my mom raised me by herself…”

He closed the gap between them again and pulled her into his arms. He hadn’t realized she’d been raised by a single parent. To be honest, a weekend of hot sex didn’t really lend itself to sharing each other’s past like that. “You’re not by yourself.”

She looked up at him. That little pointed nose of hers was the tiniest bit red and her lip quivered as if she were struggling to keep from crying. That’s when he realized how out of character it was for Emily to be unsure. The baby—his baby—had thrown her for a loop as well.

“Thanks. I just need…I have no idea. I mean, a kid. I never expected this. But we used protection.”

“I didn’t the third time, remember? I was out and we…”

She blushed and rested her forehead against the middle of his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He’d thought he hated being trapped, but in Emily’s arms this didn’t feel constricting.

“Ugh. My mom was right.”

“About what?” he asked. He looked over her head at the man in the mirror and remembered how many times he’d wanted to see some substance reflected back. Was this it? Of course it was. The baby would change things. He had no idea how or why, but he knew this moment was going to be the one that helped forge his future and the man he’d become.

“She said all it takes is a sweet-talking man and one time to get pregnant.”

“I’m a sweet-talking man?” He tipped her head up with his finger under her chin.

“You can be.”

“What are we going to do?” he asked at last. It was clear she’d run out of steam as soon as she entered the room. Marriage was the noble thing to do. He knew that’s what Juan Carlos would suggest, but he and Emily were strangers, and tying their lives together didn’t seem smart until they knew each other better.

She pushed away from him and walked over to the window. He knew the view she was afforded. This place had been hard-earned. He’d worked just as his siblings had to make Montoro Enterprises into the success it was today.

“I just wanted you to know. Beyond that I don’t need anything. Someday the kid is going to ask about you—”

“Someday? I’m going to be a part of this,” Rafe said.

“I don’t see how. You’re going to be jetting off to Alma to take the throne. My life is here. The baby’s life will be here.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. The timing on this sucked. But he didn’t blame Emily. He’d been running when he went to Key West, afraid to admit that he was in over his head. He’d just gotten word that his family was definitely interested in returning to Alma and as the oldest son he was expected to take the throne.

He was the oldest son. He was Rafael the Fourth. He should have been in command all the time. But the truth was, he was lost.

He wanted his own life. Not one that was dictated by rules and the demands of running a country. If he’d made the decision to return to Alma on his own he might feel differently but right now he felt strong-armed into it.

But somehow in Emily’s arms he’d found something.

Emily didn’t really feel any better about her next steps, but now that she’d told Rafe her news she could at least start making plans. She didn’t know what she expected… Well, the fairy-tale answer was that he’d profess his undying love—hey, their weekend together was pretty spectacular—then sweep her off her feet to his jet, and they’d go to Paris to celebrate their engagement.

But back in the real world, she was staring at him and wondering if this was the last time she’d be alone with him. It didn’t matter what the fantasy was or that she knew how he looked naked. They were still strangers.

Intimate strangers.

“You are looking at me in an odd way,” he said.

She struggled with her blunt nature. Saying that she knew what he looked like naked but not how he’d react to their child would reveal too much insecurity. So she searched for something light. Keeping things light was the key to this.

“Well, I never heard you rap along with Jay-Z and Kanye before. Sort of changed my opinion of you.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said.

“I’d already guessed that.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

He walked over to her, all sex on a stick with that slow confident stride of his. His hazel eyes were intense, but then everything about him was. Last time they were together, she’d sensed his need to just forget who he was, but this time was different. This time he seemed to want to show her more of the man he was.

The real man.

“What else have you guessed?” he asked in a silky tone that sent shivers down her spine.

He had a great voice. She knew he had flaws, but as far as the physical, she couldn’t find any. Even that tiny scar on the back of his hand didn’t detract from his appeal. “That you are used to getting your own way.”

“Aw, that’s so easy it’s almost like cheating.”

“Have you figured out that I’m used to getting my own way, too?” she asked. Suddenly she didn’t feel as if things were just happening to her. She was in control. Of Rafe, the baby and this entire afternoon. The pregnancy had thrown her. Brought up junk from her childhood she’d thought she’d moved on from, but now she was getting her groove back.

“Oh, I knew that from the moment I entered Shady Harry’s and saw you standing behind the bar.”

“Did you?” she asked. “I thought it was my Shady Harry’s T-shirt that caught your attention.”

The spicy scent of his aftershave brought an onslaught of memories of him moving over her. She’d buried her face in his neck. Damn, he’d smelled good. Then and now.

“Well, that and your legs. Red, you’ve got killer legs.”

She looked down at them. Seemed kind of average to her. But she wasn’t about to argue with a compliment like that.

“I like your ass,” she admitted.

He winked at her, and then turned so that she could see it. He wore a slim-fitting suit that looked tailor-made. Given who he was, it probably was.

He was going to be king.

She had no business flirting with him. Or even staying here a moment longer.

“Sorry.”

“What?” he asked. “Why? What happened?”

She shrugged. No way was she admitting she was intimidated by his title. But that was the truth. She wasn’t in control of that. No matter how much she wanted to be.

“This suit doesn’t do anything for me, does it? I asked Gabe if these pants made me look fat but he said no.”

She had seen pictures of his entire family in the newspaper and knew that the Gabe he referred to was Gabriel Montoro, his younger brother.

She laughed, as she knew he wanted her to. But inside something had changed. She no longer owned this afternoon. “I should go.”

“Why? What happened just now?”

“I remembered that you aren’t just a rich guy from Miami who came to Key West for the weekend. That your life isn’t your own and I really don’t have a place in it.”

His expression tightened and he turned away from her. She studied him as he paced over to his bed and looked down at the expensive leather suitcase lying there. She’d interrupted his packing. He probably didn’t really have time for her this afternoon.

“You said you never knew your father.” With an almost aristocratic expression, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She had the feeling she was seeing the man who would be king. And she had to admit he made her a little bit nervous. Maybe it was simply the fact that she knew he was going to be a king now. But it seemed as if he was different. More regal in his bearing than he had been during their weekend together.

“Yes. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“I did know my father and my grandfather and great-grandfather. From my birth I was named to follow in their footsteps. I’ve never deviated from that expectation, and to be honest, I took a certain pride in carrying on our family name and trying to set an example for my brother and sister.”

“I’m getting a poor little rich boy feeling here. You have been given a lot of opportunities in your lifetime and now you have the chance to lead a nation,” she said, but inside she sort of understood what he was getting at. His entire life had been scripted since birth. She understood from what she’d read in the newspapers that the Montoros may have left Alma in the middle of the night, but they hadn’t left their pride behind.

“All my life I’ve done what is expected of me. I haven’t shirked a single duty. I’m the CEO of Montoro Enterprises and now I will be king of Alma, but for this one afternoon, Red, can I be Rafe? Not a man with his future planned but your lover? Father of your baby?” he asked.

He came back over and dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her hips. Then he drew her closer to him and kissed her belly. “I want you to be able to speak to our baby about me with joy instead of regret.”

She looked down at him as he rested his head against her body. Tunneling her fingers into his thick black hair, she understood that from this point on, when she left this penthouse they couldn’t be this couple again.

She sighed, and the woman she’d always been, the one who lived by the motto Never Say Never, took over. Rafe and she might not have more than this time together. And she wanted this one last time with him.

She hadn’t expected to be a mom this soon. She had made all these plans for her life and then when she’d taken those pregnancy tests it had all gone out the window.

But for this moment she could forget about tomorrow. She hoped this would be enough, but feared one more afternoon in his arms would never be enough to satisfy her.

Two

Rafe pushed aside all of his thoughts and just focused on Emily. It was amazing that she’d come to find him. She was strong enough, independent enough to keep the baby from him if she’d wanted. It embarrassed him a little, humbled him, too, that he would never have known about the baby if she hadn’t shown up.

He’d been focusing on the royal legacy and managing everyone’s expectations. Especially people he didn’t even know and hadn’t cared existed until last month. Funny how he’d gone from worrying about financial targets and managing a multinational company to worrying about a little thing like protocol.

But as long as Emily was here he could forget all that. Concentrate on being the man and not the king.

He held her tightly as he stood up, lifting her off her feet and letting her slide back down his body. She was curvy and light, his woman, and he wanted to be just her man. He carried her to the big brass bed and stood next to it, just waiting for a signal from her.

She owed him nothing.

She sighed and then lowered her head and brushed her lips over his, and something tight and frozen inside him started to melt. She kissed him not like the bold bartender she was when they’d met, but like a woman who wanted to relish her time with her lover.

They both knew without saying it that this was the last time they’d be together like this. Maybe if they’d met two years from now after he’d been on the throne and had time to figure out what being king meant, their path would have been different. But they hadn’t.

They had this afternoon and nothing more.

He wanted these memories of the two of them to keep for himself as he moved into a life that was no longer his own.

He pushed his hands into her thick red hair, cradling her head as he took control of the kiss. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, tasted peppermint and woman. Her arms slipped lower and she stroked her hand down his back as he deepened the kiss.

Though he knew this long, wet kiss was just the beginning, he wanted to savor it. Dueling desires warred inside him as he wanted to make every touch last as long as possible. The intensity of his lust for her was almost unbearable; he needed to be hilt-deep inside her right now.

He lifted his head, rubbed his thumb along the column of her neck. Her pulse was racing and her eyes were half closed. Her creamy skin was dotted with freckles and the faint flush of desire.

He dropped nibbling kisses down her neck. She smelled of orange blossoms and sea breeze. She was like the wildest parts of Florida, and he felt as if he could hold her for only a fleeing moment and then she’d be gone. Tearing through his life like a hurricane.

He slid his hands down her back, tightening them around her waist, and lifted her off her feet again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and put her hands on his shoulders. Then she looked down into his eyes with that bright southern-Atlantic-blue gaze of hers. He felt lost. As if he were drowning in her eyes.

She nipped at his lower lip and then sucked it into her mouth and he hardened. He was going to explode if he didn’t get his damned tailored pants off and bury himself in her body.

He reached for his fly but she shifted on him, rubbing her center over his erection. He shook, and the strength left his legs as he stumbled and fell back on the bed. She laughed and then thrust her tongue into his mouth again. And he gave up thinking.

She was like the wildest hurricane and all he could do was ride this storm out. She moved over him and made him remember what it felt like to be alive. The same way she had four weeks ago in Key West. She made the rest of the world pale, and everything narrowed to the two of them.

The heat flared between them and his clothes felt too constricting. He needed to be naked. Wanted her naked. Then she could climb back on his lap. He tore his mouth from hers, his breath heavy as he drew her T-shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside.

She wore the same beige lace bra she’d had on the last time they’d had sex. He traced his finger over the seam where the fabric met skin, saw the goose bumps spread from her breast over her chest and down her arms. Her nipple tightened and he leaned forward to rub his lips over it as he reached behind her back and undid the bra.

The cups loosened, but he didn’t lift his head from her nipple. He continued teasing her with light brushes of his tongue over it until she reached between them and undid his tie, leaving it dangling around his neck as she went to work on his shirt buttons.

He shifted back, taking the edge of her bra between his teeth and pulling it away. She laughed, a deep, husky sound he remembered so well. And he got even harder. He had thought there was no way he could want her more, but he’d been wrong.

She pushed the fabric of his shirt open and peeled it down his arms, but she hadn’t undone his cuffs so his own shirt bound him. His hands were trapped.

“Undo my hands.”

“Not yet, Rafe. Right now, I’m in charge,” she said. She scraped her fingernail down the side of his jaw to his neck and then over his pectorals. He sat there craving more of her touch, but damned if he was going to ask her for it. Control and power were two things he always maintained. But with Emily it was as if they’d flown out the window.

She took what she wanted, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he didn’t want to stop her. It felt good to just let go.

Flexing her fingers, she dug her nails into his chest and then shifted forward so that the long strands of her hair brushed against him. He shuddered with need, turning his head to try to catch her mouth with his, but she just laughed again and shifted back on his thighs, looking down at him with those eyes that were full of mysteries he knew he’d never really understand.

She drew one finger down the center of his chest, following the path of the light dusting of hair. She swirled her finger around his belly button in tiny circles that made everything inside him contract.

She stroked his erection through the fabric of his pants, and he canted his hips.

She rocked against him and smiled when he moaned her name. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she caught the lobe of his ear between her teeth and bit it lightly before whispering all the things she was going to do him. He felt his control slipping with each thrust of her tongue as she flicked it into his ear and then shifted backward on his thighs to reach between them, stroking his length through his pants again.

Cursing, he tried to reach for her but his bound arms wouldn’t let him. She rotated her shoulders and rubbed her nipples against his chest. She closed her eyes as she undulated against him, and this time he pulled his arms forward with all of his strength and heard the tear of fabric. She opened her eyes and then started laughing.

He grabbed her waist and rolled to his side, pulling her with him. He rolled over top of her, carefully keeping his weight on his elbows and knees so she wasn’t crushed under him. He took both of her hands in his and stretched them high over her head and then rubbed his chest over hers and heard her moan.

Damn, she felt good. Better than he’d remembered her feeling, and that said a lot because he still had erotic dreams of their weekend together.

He lowered his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, holding both of her wrists above her head with one of his hands. He reached lower between their bodies and undid her jeans, pushing them down so that he could cup her in his hand. He rubbed her mound, and then traced the seam of her panties. Her legs scissored underneath his and he shifted until he lay between them. He let go of her wrists as he slowly kissed his way down her body.

She was covered in freckles; up close he could see that they were all different sizes. He flicked his tongue over each of them as he moved lower and lower until he found her belly button ring. The small loop had a starfish dangling from it. He tongued it and traced the circumference of her belly button.

He moved lower, catching the top of her bikini panties with the tip of his finger and drawing them slowly down. She shifted her hips and he pushed her jeans and panties down to her knees. She kicked them the rest of the way off.

He traced the pattern of freckles from her thigh to her knee, circling her kneecap and the small scar there before caressing his way back up the inside of her thighs. He felt the humid warmth of her body and traced her feminine core with his fingertip. She shifted on the bed, her hands reaching for him, but it was his turn to tease her. Plus if she touched him, he feared his control would splinter into a million pieces and this would be over too quickly.

He parted her folds and then leaned down to taste her. He closed his eyes as he sucked her intimate flesh, causing her to draw her legs closer around him and her hands to fall to the back of his head. She gripped his hair as her hips lifted upward toward his mouth and his tongue.

She was addicting. He couldn’t get enough of her. He pushed one finger into her body and heard her call his name. She was wet and ready for him. He fumbled, trying to free himself from his trousers. He lifted his head, looked up at her and saw that she was watching him. Her eyes were filled with passion and desire.

He stood up, shoved his pants and underwear off in a move that definitely couldn’t be called graceful, and then he lowered himself on top of her. He slowly used his chest and body to caress hers as he moved over her. She shifted her legs so that her thighs were on either side of his and he moved his hips forward, felt the tip of his erection at the opening of her body. He hesitated. This time was different from their weekend in Key West, but the passion in her eyes was the same.

Slowly he entered her, trying to make it last because she felt so damned good. She gripped his rock-hard flesh as he entered her and drove himself all the way home and then forced himself to stay still once he was fully seated in her body.

Her hands were on his shoulders, running up and down his back and then reaching lower to cup his butt and try to get him to move. But he needed a moment before he did that. A moment to make sure that she was with him. He lowered his head to her neck, and then bit her lightly before moving lower, kissing the full globes of her breasts.

She tightened as she arched underneath him. She looked up at him and whispered dark, sexual words that made his control disappear along with his willpower, and he found himself thrusting deeper into her body. Driving toward his climax and carrying her along with him.

He pushed her legs higher, putting her feet on his shoulders so he could go deeper, and pounded into her faster and faster until he heard her calling out his name and he spilled himself inside her. He thrust into her three more times before he let go of her legs and fell forward, bracing himself on his arms. He kissed the pert pink nipple on her left breast as he rested his head on her shoulder and tried to catch his breath.

He got up and left her for a few moments to wash up and then came back and lay down next to her on the bed. He was aware of the time and knew he should already be at the private airport and getting on his family’s jet so he could travel with them to Alma, but he couldn’t make himself leave.

He knew that this wasn’t love. He wasn’t going to lie to her or himself. But she was pregnant with his child and this fired him with an enthusiasm he just couldn’t muster when he thought of being king. He didn’t want the throne, but his father, who couldn’t inherit it because he’d never had his marriage annulled after divorcing Rafe’s mother, had been very clear that he thought Rafe needed to do his duty.

He stroked his hand down Emily’s arm. She had turned on her side and had her head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I’m glad you came here today. Did you ever think of not telling me?” he asked.

He suspected he knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from her.

“No. It wasn’t easy to track you down—you’re pretty secretive about this penthouse bachelor pad, aren’t you? But Harry has lots of friends who have connections. It only took him six hours to find you.”

“Harry scares me,” Rafe admitted. The owner of Shady Harry’s bar had been fun and gregarious when Rafe had been partying and buying rounds for the entire place. But the next morning when he’d spotted the older man as he’d left Emily’s cottage, Harry had given him a look that said to watch his back. “What’s he to you?”

“He and my mom dated for a while,” Emily said. “He’s sort of like my stepdad. Why?”

“I have a feeling if I show up in Key West he’s going to be waiting with a shotgun.”

“You’re not going to Key West, you’re going to Alma. I’ve seen pictures. It’s really beautiful,” she said.

Not as beautiful as she was, Rafe thought. He leaned up on his elbow, put his hand flat on her stomach and realized he couldn’t control this any more than he could say no to the people in Alma who’d asked his family to come back and rule the country.

“It is. They’ve had a rough time since the revolution and I guess…I have to go,” he said.

“I know. I told you I wasn’t here to ask you to stay. I just needed you to know.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know my dad. My mom has never mentioned his name to me. I asked her one time about him and she started crying. I want more than that for our baby. It’s not that I had a deprived childhood, but I always wonder. I have this emptiness inside me that nothing can fill. It’s that empty spot where everyone else has a dad.”

He was humbled by her explanation. He knew he wanted to be more than a name and a face to their kid, though. “We need to figure this out.”

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Rafael? Are you in here? Your father is in a car waiting downstairs and if you’re not down in ten minutes he’s coming up here and getting you.” It was his personal assistant, Jose.

Jose was his right-hand man at Montoro Enterprises and at home. He took care of all the details.

“I have company,” Rafe said. But Emily was more than just company. She was his lover. The mother of his unborn child.

“I am aware of that,” Jose said.

“Tell Father I’ll be down when I’m down,” Rafe said.

But the mood was broken and Emily was getting up and putting her clothes on. She had her jeans on and buttoned, but he stopped her before she put her T-shirt on. He pulled her into his arms. It seemed the sort of gesture that would reassure her, but since he was already thinking of everything he had to do, it felt hollow. He knew she noticed it, too, when she pulled back and shook her head.

The mantle of being a Montoro was tightening around him. “I—”

“Don’t. No excuses and definitely no lies,” she said. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a business card for Shady Harry’s; he turned it over and saw she’d written her name and number on the back. “If you want to know about our child, contact me.”

“I do. I will,” he said.

She smiled up at him. “I know that the next few weeks are going to be crazy for you, so no pressure.”

She pulled her shirt on and then tucked her underwear into her purse and started for the door. He watched her walk out. Part of him wanted to run after her and make her stay so he could talk her into trying a relationship or maybe even marriage. Another part wanted to scoop her up and run away with her to some Pacific island where no one would know their names, far enough away from his family and everyone they knew.

But Emily was a brave sort of woman, and running had never been his style, either, so he had no choice but to get dressed and head down to the car.

His father didn’t speak to him the entire way to the airport. Rafael III had wanted the throne enough to try to convince his ex-wife to come back, but Rafe’s mother wasn’t interested in doing anything to help out her former husband. To say the two of them had a strained relationship was putting it mildly.

They were a prime example of how getting married to the wrong person didn’t make for a happy family. Rafe had the childhood to prove it.

During the ride, his cousin Juan Carlos spoke too much. Telling him what was expected of the next king of Alma.

Juan Carlos had been orphaned and seemed to be fixated on the monarchy as a way of proving to himself and the rest of the family that he could carry on his parents’ legacy. Perhaps if Rafe’s parents hadn’t divorced and been horrible to each other, he’d have felt the same way about the family honor.

Rafe freely admitted to himself that if Emily’s pregnancy became public knowledge it would create a scandal that would make protecting that legacy even more difficult. But Rafe tuned Juan Carlos out and tried to figure out what he expected of himself as a man.

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