Luxury Escapes: A Mistake, A Prince and A Pregnancy / Hired by Her Husband / Captured and Crowned

A sudden roll of nausea assaulted her. “Yes. Saltine crackers. And a ginger ale if there’s one handy.”

He drew his eyebrows together, his expression full of concern. “You are not feeling well?”

“I’m never feeling well these days.”

“This is normal?”

She shrugged. “Morning sickness. Although mine lasts most of the day. But yes, that’s normal for some women.”

“Rest,” he said, his tone commanding. “I will see that you are cared for.”

Suddenly she was so tired her only wish was to comply with his command. “Thank you.”

He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him, and she stumbled to the bed and climbed on top of it, relishing how she sank into the soft bedding. She didn’t bother to take her shoes off or to get under the covers, and in a matter of seconds she was completely dead to the world.

When Maximo returned to Alison’s room half an hour later with her requests she was sound asleep, her arm thrown over her face, her hair spread into a golden-red halo. His eyes were immediately drawn to the gentle rise and fall of her generous breasts. She was an amazingly beautiful woman.

Kissing her had been shockingly exciting. He couldn’t remember the last time simply kissing a woman had aroused him so much. Maybe when he’d been a teenage virgin, but certainly not any time in the twenty years since then.

He hadn’t intended to kiss her. Not yet. Seduction wasn’t the way to win Alison over to his way of thinking. She was cerebral; the way to appeal to her would be through logic and reason, not through sensual persuasion. At least that’s what he’d thought. She’d been surprisingly passionate in his arms, a little hesitant, but she’d been all the sweeter for it.

The temptation to join her in the bed, to lift the hem of her shirt again, touch her flat stomach and move higher to the lush swell of her breasts, was so powerful his teeth ached. It wasn’t only his teeth that were aching, either. He steeled himself against the hot flood of arousal that was coursing through him, fighting to maintain control over his body.

“Alison, cara.” He reached out and touched her bare arm and desire raced through him like a shot of pure liquor into his system. She was so beautiful. So different from any other woman he’d been with or even wanted to be with.

Always he’d gravitated to tall, slender women. Models, actresses, women with style and sophistication. Alison was slender, her waist small, but she had a woman’s curves; her hips rounded, her breasts enticingly full.

Unlike the extremely fashionable women he’d preferred in the past, Alison seemed to dress simply to stay warm, or to avoid indecent exposure. There was nothing unflattering about her wardrobe, but there was nothing especially flattering about it, either. It was as though she honestly didn’t give it a second thought. She had been wearing some makeup the first day he’d met her, but today she’d gone without it entirely. Most women of his acquaintance would have moaned about how pale they looked without it in an effort to get some sort of compliment. Alison didn’t seem to care either way.

She shifted beneath his hand, a sweet moan escaping her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she fixed her sleepy copper gaze on him, her full lips turning up slightly.

“I know you’re half asleep,” he said softly, “because that’s the only way I could have earned a smile from you.”

Just like that her brow creased and she frowned. “Oh,” she said softly, putting her hand on her stomach.

Anxiety shot through him. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine. Well, my stomach hurts and my mouth is really dry, but everything’s fine with the baby.”

“That’s why I brought your requested items.” He gestured to the tray that was sitting next to her.

The crease between her eyebrows deepened and her lips tugged further down at the corners. “You brought me saltines and ginger ale?”

“Not just any ginger ale.” He picked the long-stemmed glass up from the tray. “My personal chef mixed it especially for you. It has fresh ginger and honey, good for your nausea.”

She extended a shaky hand and took the glass from him, lifting it to her lips. Her expression turned to one of relief almost immediately. “The ginger is amazing. It solves all my problems. All my physical problems, anyway.”

“Still viewing all of this as a problem?”

She took another sip of her drink and shot him a hard look. “Well, yes, morning sickness is kind of a problem. Anyway, you can’t tell me you’re ecstatic about this.”

“I’m not sorry about it.”

“How is that possible?”

“I want to be a father. I had given up on that ever happening. There is no way I can regret this.”

She lowered her head and pressed the glass to her forehead. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Marry me. It’s the best solution. For the baby. For us.”

Her head snapped up. “Why is it the best for us?”

“If we were married we would have our child all the time. No missed Christmases, none of this every-other-weekend business. If we had shared custody there is no way you or I could be there for everything.”

“That’s true,” she said softly.

“And I can’t imagine that you intend to spend the rest of your life without a man. You’re what, twenty-nine?”

Her copper eyes narrowed. “Eight.”

“Either way you’re far too young to embrace a life of celibacy. Raising a child and having a personal life is not easy. If we were married, that would be taken care of. You and I share a pretty potent attraction, you can’t deny that.”

“I’m not exactly concerned about the baby’s impact on my sex life,” she said drily, pulling a cracker off the tray.

“Perhaps not now, but eventually you will be. I can also offer you financial security. You would be free to do what you liked.”

“I could stay at home with the baby?”

“If you like. Or you could continue to work and our child would be provided with the best caregiver available.”

“I wouldn’t keep working,” she said.

“I thought your career was important to you.”

“It is. But raising my child, being there for everything, that’s more important to me.”

Maximo only looked at her, his eyebrows raised as if he were waiting for her to continue. Alison wasn’t sure how to explain how she felt to him, or if she even wanted to.

She wanted to be the kind of mom who was there when her child got home from school; she wanted to have cookies baked, and to drive them to soccer practice. She wanted to be there, be interested, be involved. She wanted to be everything neither of her parents had bothered to be.

“If that’s what you want then I can’t imagine you want to spend a good portion of our child’s life shuttling him back and forth between households.”

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. “Well, it isn’t as though we’re bitter exes. We could share some of the time together. I could stay here sometimes.”

“And you think some kind of pieced-together living arrangement would be better than an intact family?”

“What I think is that we have an extremely unconventional situation and you’re playing like we can make it into the perfect, model family, when that just isn’t realistic.”