Heiress's Royal Baby Bombshell. Jennifer Faye
right words. “How do you feel about it?”
“I knew I wanted kids someday, but not yet—not now. I’m only twenty-six.”
“And the father, how does he feel?”
“I... I don’t know.”
“Noemi, you’ve told him, haven’t you?”
She inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm her nauseous stomach. And then she launched into how she’d met Max and how stupid she’d been that night. She’d been hurting and not thinking straight. And she thought it would be a good time without any strings.
“Don’t worry. Everything will be all right,” Maria said, though her voice said otherwise.
“Even you don’t believe it. What am I going to do? I’m not going to be able to hide my condition much longer. Most of my clothes don’t fit.”
“I know.” Maria’s voice rose as though she’d just discovered the answer to all Noemi’s problems.
“What?” She was desperate for some good advice.
“You need some retail therapy.”
Noemi’s shoulders drooped. That was the very last thing she wanted to do. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m very serious. What are you doing right now?”
“Maria...”
“Tell me what you’re doing?”
“Pacing in my room.”
“And that is helping you how?”
“I’m thinking.”
“And so far it hasn’t gotten you any answers. You need to get out of that chalet. The fresh air will do you good. Shopping is just what you need.”
“Is that what you did when you and Sebastian separated?” And then realizing that she was touching on a very painful subject, she said, “Forget I said that. I’m just not myself today.”
“Actually, it is what I did.”
“Did it help?”
“Temporarily.” Her voice filled with emotion. “Enough about me. I hope you know that if I could manage it, I’d be there with you, but trust me, after you buy some Christmas presents and new clothes for yourself that are comfortable, you’ll feel much better. There’s nothing worse than squeezing into clothes that don’t fit.”
Maria had given birth to Noemi’s nephew, Frankie, nearly two years ago. She knew a lot more about pregnancy than Noemi. Maybe she was right. She glanced over at her discarded jeans on the bed. She’d barely gotten them buttoned, but she hadn’t been able to pull up the zipper. And no matter how much she enjoyed her leggings, she couldn’t stay in them forever.
“You’ll do it, won’t you?” Maria prompted.
“Yes, I’ll go.”
“Good. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”
After the conversation ended, Noemi still wasn’t certain that shopping was the right thing to do, but what else did she have to do considering she was at the chalet alone? Her gaze moved to the discarded jeans on her king-size bed. No way was she going to put those on again. Her black leggings would have to do.
She moved to the walk-in closet, hoping she could find something to wear besides her T-shirt. She sifted through the hangers until she strayed across a white long-sleeve V-neck knit tunic. It was loose but not too baggy and it’d go great with her leggings as well as her knee-high black boots.
With her wardrobe sorted, she was ready to head into the village. She would search for some roomier clothes and see what she could find for Christmas, which was only a few weeks away.
He didn’t want to be here.
Not really.
Crown Prince Maximilian Steiner-Wolf, known to his friends as Max, sat in the back seat of his sports utility vehicle as one of his three bodyguards maneuvered it along the windy road in the Swiss Alps. His bodyguard and friend, Roc, sat in the passenger seat while Shaun, a bodyguard of similar stature and looks, sat next to him. He couldn’t go anywhere without at least a small security detail.
Being the crown prince came with certain nonnegotiable restrictions. One of them was his safety. He may insist on traveling but the king demanded that his safety always be taken into consideration. It was a hassle but the guards were very good at becoming invisible unless their presence was required.
Max turned his head to the window and stared out at the snowy landscape of the mountainous region with some of the best slopes in all Europe. He was planning to spend a week or two skiing at Mont Coeur before returning to the palace in the European principality of Ostania.
He hadn’t been home in months, but the approaching holidays were a big thing, not only at the palace but also throughout Ostania. And his mother had called, insisting he spend Christmas with them. After all, he was still the crown prince, even though he would never be king. However, the royal family was still keeping up appearances with the public.
Though Max was the firstborn and had been groomed from birth to take the throne of the small European country, no one had foreseen that he would be diagnosed with cancer in his teens. Although his treatment had been successful, doctors informed him that the cure had very likely rendered him sterile. Royal decree stated that the ruler of Ostania must produce an heir verified by a paternity test. From then on, Max knew it was impossible for him to take the throne.
So as not to cause the nation to panic over the future of Ostania, the palace had kept Max’s infertility quiet while attentions turned to preparing his younger brother, Tobias, to become the future ruler of Ostania. No one outside of the court circle knew, and meanwhile, to the world, Max was still the crown prince.
While all of his parents’ attention was showered on his little brother, Max roamed the world. He wasn’t as much of a party animal as the press claimed him to be, but he did know how to have a good time. However, that was all about to change.
The truth was he was tiring of his partying ways. Moving from city to city, beach to beach and resort to resort was growing old or maybe he was getting old. In the beginning, it had been fun. The freedom had been intoxicating, but now he was starting to get a hangover from too much partying. He needed to do more with his life and to do that he had to go home—he had to officially step down from his position as crown prince in order to find his future.
That acknowledgment stabbed deep into his heart. He’d always been competitive. His parents had raised him that way. And stepping aside to let his younger brother take his place didn’t come naturally to him. But it was more than that—it was knowing he was letting down his family—his country.
His stopover in Mont Coeur was to be his last. After he hit the slopes and cleared his head, he planned to return to Ostania to have a difficult talk with the king and queen. It had been put off long enough. Then he would lead a quieter, more productive life.
The SUV slowed as they entered the heart of the resort. Max instructed the driver to pull to a stop outside a ski supply shop. He’d lost his sunglases at the end of last season and he needed a new pair of shades before hitting the slopes.
Not waiting for his security to get the door for him, he let himself out. He’d just stepped into the narrow road when someone with a camera pointed at him. Max inwardly groaned. It was going to be one of those trips where he was besieged for photos and autographs. Normally it didn’t bother him, but right now he had a lot on his mind.
“It’s the Prince of Ostania!” someone shouted.
Everyone on the sidewalk turned in his direction.
Quickly his security guards flanked him. None spoke. They didn’t have to. The serious look on their faces said they meant business. Being recognized didn’t happen all the time. However, it happened more than Max would like.
Security