Prince's Pregnant Princess Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prince’s Pregnant Princess

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY ENJOY

  Royal’s Arranged Love

  Table of Contents

  Prince’s Pregnant Princess

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY ENJOY

  Royal’s Arranged Love

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Prince’s Pregnant Princess

  By Ana Adams

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2017 Ana Adams.

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  Chapter One

  Georgia spent a few extra seconds smoothing down the front of her perfectly plaited skirt before striding toward the skyscraper in front of her. Manhattan was a busy beast most days, but today, she barely noticed the throngs of people around her, meandering or speed-walking to destinations entirely different than her own.

  She drew low, shaky breaths, trying to calm the nerves before they betrayed any weakness. This was only the most important job of her life. The one she’d dreamt about since being a teenager. The absolute pinnacle of important career moves a woman in her mid-20s could even hope for.

  The Prince of Naples, Niccolo Emmanuel, had hired her as his executive personal assistant. The tall, black, gleaming building in front of her held a variety of businesses, but floors 50-75 were reserved just for Napoli Philanthropy. She’d never worked for such a large nonprofit organization; hell, she’d never worked above floor twenty, anywhere.

  You’re in the Big Leagues, lady. She straightened her back and strolled toward the shiny automatic doors, inhaling a pleasant, sterile whoosh of air as she entered the quiet foyer. As soon as her heels clicked onto the bright marble tiles, a familiar voice rang out.

  “Georgia, dearie! Over here!”

  A slightly hunched lady fluttered her fingers from the far side of the foyer near the reception desk. Small glasses pushed down to her nose allowed hawkish bright eyes to sparkle as she came near.

  “Martha.” Georgia relaxed a little now that she could place the voice with the face. She and Martha had been communicating for weeks via phone in preparation for the new job. After fifteen years of service as Prince Niccolo’s personal assistant, Martha was retiring to spend more time with grandkids. “What a pleasure to finally meet you!”

  Martha took Georgia’s hand in hers and the two ladies smiled.

  “Niccolo and I have been so looking forward to today,” Martha gushed as she led Georgia to the elevator. She pushed the Up button and smiled at her, the way she might smile at a granddaughter after a school play. “He’s extremely confident in this transition, as am I. With your amazing references and your nomination, I think that you’re the absolute best person we could have found in the entire world!”

  Georgia beamed as they stepped into the elevator. Whenever the nomination came up, it made her insides twist with pride. At her last job—personal assistant to the CEO of a chain of fashion-forward department stores—her boss had been so enamored with Georgia’s work that she nominated her for the prestigious International Executive Assistant award.

  Every year, an outstanding, promising, or legendary personal assistant was selected to receive the award in some exotic locale. Georgia, of course, had been dreaming of winning this award since before she’d even entered college. Maybe as much for the career accomplishment as for the chance to travel somewhere new. But now? She was closer than ever…she could almost taste the salty waters of some foreign sea.

  And God help her, she’d win the title this year.

  “I plan to make sure the transition goes very smoothly for Mr. Emmanuel,” Georgia said, eyes skating over the shiny walls of the elevator. She and Martha reflected as strange smears in the elevator doors. “And more than that, I plan to not let you down, Martha. It’s important to me that you rest easy after you hand over the reins.”

  Martha batted her shoulder. “Oh, come now. I already know you’ll have no problem taking over. With where you come from…”

  “I’ve never worked for an organization as large as Napoli Philanthropy,” Georgia said, squeezing the handle of her sleek black briefcase. “I’m excited for the challenge. You won’t regret picking me.”

  “You’re certainly the first new employee we’ve had where her former boss was crying during the reference check,” Martha said, nudging her.

  Georgia grinned as the elevator doors slid open. Martha led her through a meticulous reception area, ‘Napoli’ spelled in big block letters on the wall behind the receptionist. They wound through hallways of partitions and offices, heels clicking lightly on the black tiled floor. Employees flitted by with files in their hands, mostly women with immaculate make-up and crisp feminine suits. The whole office reflected sleek and simple; the cleanliness somehow felt pure, which Georgia immediately liked. Once they had wound their way into the bowels of the office floor, Martha turned to her with a smile.

  “Well, are you ready?” Her smile glittered. “Time to meet your new boss.”

  She twisted the gold doorknob of his office and pushed at the door. An enormous corner office greeted her, with a spectacular view of Manhattan.

  Georgia’s voice caught in her throat as she stepped inside. This would be the new norm, now. Pinch me.

  Niccolo Emmanuel sat in a high-backed leather chair turned toward the windows. From the edge of the seat, he pressed a phone to his ear, but she couldn’t see anything beyond his arm. She swallowed hard, eager to make a good first impression.

  She only knew the basics about her new boss—Italian, royalty, and one of the richest men in the world. There could be no better resumè boost than working for him. And judging by her quick Google searches, the man was quite good-looking, as one would expect for a wealthy, philanthropic prince.

  Niccolo spoke in stilted undertones as he swiveled to face them, his head bent as he spoke on the phone. Georgia’s breath shriveled in her throat. Dear God. Good-looking was a vast understatement. How had her Google searches failed to alert her that this man was a bonafide fox?

  Bright blue eyes darted up and down her body, practically leaving scorch marks in their wake. His dark hair was precisely styled and slicked, slightly longer on top than the sides. He was clean-shaven, highlighting a chiseled jaw, which flexed as he listened to his
phone call.

  Martha leaned in. “He’s on the phone with some investors in Italy. Let’s have a seat.” She gestured to two overstuffed arm chairs in front of his desk.

  She jerked her head into a nod, forcing her gaze off of the gorgeous man in front of her. How was she supposed to function around him? She’d never had a boss so sexy before…hell, she’d never had a professor, colleague, or acquaintance as hot as this guy. Her palms itched as she slid into the chair, smiling nervously at Martha. And how did Martha tolerate it? Maybe she saw Niccolo as a son. This guy is nothing but sex on legs.

  She chided herself for the inappropriate thought. Not a good way to start out a new position, objectifying your boss. Her gaze slid back to him, over the crisp folds of his suit collar, to the shiny pinstripe of his tie. Maybe they had Dress-Down Fridays or something. Maybe she’d somehow be able to glimpse what hid under that suit. Thirty seconds into the same breathing space and she was desperate to know.

  “This is a lovely office,” Georgia said, searching out Martha’s gaze. Cool it, girl, or else you’re going to embarrass yourself on your first day. “I’ve loved everything I’ve seen so far.”

  Martha smiled and patted the top of her hand. “You’ll love it here. I think you and Niccolo will get along so well.”

  Georgia forced a smile, not sure she’d be able to look at him again. Too risky. She lowered her voice. “Do I have to refer to him as Prince?”

  Niccolo hung up the phone, clearing his throat. He interlaced his fingers. His mouth was a neutral line, plump lips snagging her gaze.

  “Who is this?”

  His voice cut like a knife, gravelly and firm. The twinge of his accent was barely noticeable.

  “Sir, this is your new personal assistant: Georgia Forrest.” Martha gestured toward her, and Georgia ramped up her smile under Niccolo’s accusatory gaze. “I told you she’d be coming in today.”

  An awkward silence emerged, and then Niccolo softened. “Of course. Yes. Georgia.” He reached across the desk, offering his hand. Georgia opened her mouth to respond, hung up about the appropriate response to a prince. Should she kiss his hand? Get on a knee? How the hell did this stuff work?

  “Can I shake your hand?”

  Niccolo squinted at her, hand still thrust toward her. “That’s why I’m offering you it to you.”

  Embarrassment flooded her and she reached for his hand, giving him the limpest shake of her life. God, you couldn’t even shake his hand better? This was going far worse than she’d imagined. But it was purely his fault—he was too hot to think properly. Martha turned to her, eyebrows raised.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” She’d corral this shit show back into regular territory if she had anything to do with it. Unless she was supposed to never call him Sir, which, damn, one more point off. “I mean, Prince. I mean, Mr. Emmanuel.”

  “Call me Niccolo.” His voice barked like a drill sergeant and she pursed her lips, yanking her gaze to her lap.

  “Georgia will follow me around today,” Martha said, her voice bright and cheery. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe the entire office lived in fear of this strange, gruff overlord. Or maybe every female within a five-mile radius simply tripped over themselves whenever he glanced their way. Either one was feasible. “I’ll get her caught up to speed with the office and how to manage your calendar.”

  “Hm.” Niccolo rummaged in a drawer in his desk.

  “I’m very excited to begin,” Georgia offered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Niccolo didn’t even look at her when she spoke. She glanced at Martha, who barreled on with her cheeriness.

  “I think you and Georgia should take some time to get to know each other.” Martha reached out to pat her hand again. “It’s the best thing, since you two will be working so closely together from now on.”

  “Why are you retiring?” Niccolo glared at Martha, his jaw flexing.

  Martha sighed. “We can’t go over this again.”

  Niccolo clicked a pen in his hand a few times, moving his gaze to Georgia. “So you think you can handle this job?”

  The question smacked her across the face, nearly leaving her mute. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  “She’s been nominated for one of the most prestigious executive assistant awards in the world,” Martha said, her voice coming out a hushed whisper. “That’s an amazing feat by itself—but at her age, she might as well have won the Olympics.”

  Georgia grinned. If only Martha could stay and they could handle Niccolo together. “That’s kind of you to say. I plan to win, too. I take my career very seriously.”

  Silence settled, broken only by the compulsive clicking of Niccolo’s pen. Martha patted her knees and stood, looking down at Georgia. “Well then. You two should get to know each other, don’t you think? I’ll be outside in my office when you’re ready to move on to other tasks, Georgia.”

  Martha sashayed out of the office, closing the door quietly behind her. Georgia gripped her suitcase in her lap, smiling at Niccolo, anxiety thrumming under her skin. His blue eyes were like razors on her, slicing her up, dissecting her for study.

  She’d been prepared for this job; for any challenge the role could shove at her.

  But having a boss this sexy? She’d never seen this challenge coming, not from a mile away.

  Chapter Two

  Niccolo held the new assistant’s gaze, keeping a slow count in his head. He’d been having enough trouble acclimating to Martha’s retirement—to discover her replacement was a bombshell somehow felt like a low blow. Martha had to leave and she was sending an inexperienced hottie to replace her? That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t practical.

  Niccolo needed only practical decisions in his life. His entire empire depended on it.

  He drew a long sigh, forcing his gaze back to his laptop screen. This meet and greet couldn’t be more painstaking. He hated new employees, hated change in general. And so far, there was nothing pleasant about this transition process. “So. Martha has recommended you for this job. I take it you have some experience? Or have you just recently left high school?”

  Georgia’s mouth parted and he felt a twinge of guilt, tempered only by the prick of arousal. Those pretty pink lips looked too delicious like that. He cleared his throat, adjusting his position in the office chair. Lips like those were his favorite. The kind that could wrap around him and make him forget the world.

  He blinked a few times, struggling to clear those thoughts from his mind. They weren’t appropriate, and they weren’t allowed. His dalliances had a time and a place, and never once had they occurred behind the walls of Napoli Philanthropy.

  And that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.

  “I’ve been working as a personal assistant for over five years,” Georgia said, her voice slightly husky. He clutched the arm rest of his chair. “I assure you, I am not new to this line of work, nor am I straight out of high school. I have my Bachelor’s degree. Did you even see my resumè?”

  He narrowed his eyes. Of course he hadn’t seen her resumè. He’d left everything up to Martha, trusting fully in her selection. And in the face of such unexpected beauty, he needed to come down hard. Harder than he would if it were anyone else. Like a way to remind himself she was off-limits.

  “You look quite young,” he said, sniffing. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I need to know that my staff is experienced and able to handle any challenge that comes their way. This is a fast-paced office, with a variety of multinational donor issues that crop up daily.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air, appreciating the look of gravity streaked across her face. “I have no time for mistakes or failure.”

  She nodded vehemently. “Understood.”

  “Furthermore, this organization is a reflection of the royal family of Napoli.” He let the words hang in the air for a few moments. “What reflects poorly on this organization reflects poorly on me, and my father the king. We do not allow anything to tarn
ish the pristine history of the royal family of Naples.”

  Georgia’s eyes widened a bit. “I assure you, sir, I won’t let you down. I’m equipped and prepared to handle the responsibilities of this job.”

  He grabbed at the pen again, clicking the top while he looked her up and down. The last thing he needed was for her to claim age discrimination or something like that. He needed to cool it. Knock it down a few notches. Act like the way she crossed her legs didn’t send his heart throbbing in his chest.

  But damn if he wasn’t desperate to smooth a palm over that creamy knee of hers. In the back of his mind, he wondered if her arrival here was some sort of divinely-planned birthday gift. His fortieth birthday loomed around the corner, and while everyone around him prodded and poked about the upcoming celebrations, deep inside he was desperate for it to never arrive.

  Forty? Pretty soon, you’ll be dead. Nothing to show for it except this business. Couldn’t even hold a girlfriend for more than six months.

  The thoughts flitted around in his head like gnats, barely noticeable yet aggravating. A constant presence.

  “Great. Do you have any questions for me?”

  Her eyes lit up. “I certainly do, sir.” She paused, teeth biting into that plump lower lip. “Um, sorry. Niccolo.”

  “Go on.” She was sexy, but too polite. Far too polite. She’d never make it here. Not with those legs on display.

  “What’s your favorite part about managing a philanthropical organization such as this?”

  The question floored him, made the breath shrivel in his throat. He’d been expecting her to ask about how he took his coffee in the morning and had already prepared a snarky response. But he had nothing in the queue for this.

  “Well…” he cleared his throat, clicking again at the pen top. “That’s quite a complex answer. It might require some thought. As you can probably surmise, managing an organization like this is multi-faceted.” He forced a smile, avoiding her gaze. He couldn’t stand to look into those eager doe eyes again. Not when there would be days and weeks ahead of them in close quarters.

  Georgia nodded, leaning forward in her seat. “Absolutely. I can imagine there are plenty of challenges, and probably an equal amount of rewards.”