A Mistake, A Prince and A Pregnancy. Maisey Yates

but to the death of his wife. Finding a woman he had loved enough to marry, and then losing her—she couldn’t even imagine the void that must be left in Maximo’s life.

      She didn’t really want to feel anything for Maximo. Already her awareness of him was off the charts, and it scared her. Adding any kind of emotion to that was asking for trouble.

      Romantic love had never really appealed to her, and neither had any kind of intimate relationship. She’d seen the aftereffects of romantic love turned sour in her childhood home, watched her parents fall apart and self-destruct. Her mother had simply folded in on herself, leaving Alison to fend for herself.

      When her father had left they’d lost their financial stability. People her mother had considered friends had all but abandoned her. Alison never wanted to find herself in that position, never wanted to place so much of her life in someone else’s hands that losing them could undo everything. Those experiences had taught her that she had to make her own way, find her own security, her own happiness.

      Every inch of her life had been in her complete control since her disastrous childhood. She could control how good her grades were, and in high school she’d been obsessive about keeping her 4.0 so that she could get scholarships. In college she’d been single-minded in the pursuit of her degree, so that she could get a job that would allow her to remain independent. And every step in her life since then had been carefully planned and orchestrated, down to when and how she would become a mother.

      All of that seemed laughable now that she was on a plane, headed to a foreign country with a shockingly handsome prince who also happened to be the unintended father of her baby.

      Chapter Three

      HER first glimpse of Turan stole her breath. The island was a jewel set in the bright Mediterranean Sea. Gleaming white rock faces beset with stucco houses dotted the pale sanded coastline. The beach faded into lush greenery, and set into the tallest visible mountainside was a stone castle with masculine angles that gleamed gold in the late-afternoon light.

      “It’s lovely.” Lovely, and yet untamed. Sort of like its master. For all of Maximo’s urbane sophistication, there was something about him that was raw and almost primitive. It appealed to her on a basic level she’d hardly been aware of before she’d seen him descending the stairs of his elegant mansion.

      The entire flight had been thick with tension, at least on her end. Maximo seemed totally unaffected by her presence. Which was more than she could say for herself. It wasn’t as though she didn’t like men or that she had never felt any kind of sexual desire—of course she had. She simply hadn’t acted on it, hadn’t wanted to. The very idea typically made her feel as if she was on the edge of a panic attack. Sexual intimacy, opening herself up to someone like that, exposing herself, and possibly even losing some of her carefully guarded control, was usually about the least appealing thing she could think of. And yet something about Maximo ignited a curiosity that was starting to override her normal sense of self-preservation.

      “Thank you,” he said, his voice full of total sincerity. “It is my belief that Turan is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.”

      The plane began to descend, taking them low over grassland where cattle grazed free-range. “I wouldn’t have thought you could do much cattle farming on an island.”

      “Not much, but we try to make the most of every natural resource we have. Vineyards and olive groves do well. And our grass-fed beef is almost world renowned. Of course, being an island, seafood is also a large part of our exports. But we don’t export as much as we might. My first priority has always been self-sufficiency.”

      She made a small sound of approval. “What do your duties encompass? Your father is still the official ruler, right?”

      He nodded. “I have been put in charge of managing the economy. In the past five years I’ve managed to increase tourism by fifty percent. With the new luxury casinos and the renovation of some of the historic fishing villages, Turan has become a popular destination for wealthy people looking for a high-profile vacation spot.”

      She arched an eyebrow. “So you’re more of a businessman than a prince.”

      He gave a low laugh. “Perhaps. Maybe in another life that’s what I would have been. But in this one, I’m happy to fulfill my duty. I do have some business interests on the side, but my main responsibility is still to my country.”

      “And duty is the most important thing?”

      “It means a lot to me. I was raised to believe that it was duty before self.”

      Duty before self. And did that mean she had a duty to her child to ensure that he knew his father? If her father had wanted her and her mother had never given him a chance, how would she have felt? Pain twisted her. She would have given anything for a father who wanted her. For the protection and safety it would have represented. Did she have any right to refuse her own child this amazing gift? Especially one she would have given just about everything to have herself? She didn’t want to face the fact that having Maximo involved in the raising of their child was the right thing to do. What she wanted was for things to turn out according to her plan. But she knew that wasn’t possible now.

      The plane touched down on the tarmac and her stomach rose into her throat.

      When the small aircraft came to a stop, the stairs let down and Maximo took her arm in a very proprietary manner, his posture stiff. He held her as far from his body as was possible, as though too much contact was beneath his royal self. Which was just fine with her. She was still disturbed by the strange effect he seemed to be having on her equilibrium. It was as though her self-control had gone on vacation and now her body was making up for it by craving a whole host of things that had just never seemed important before.

      She would much rather have him be aloof than have him touch her again like he’d done at his house. She could easily remember the slow burn against her lip as he drew his thumb over the sensitive skin. She shivered, trying to shake off the little thrill that assaulted her as the scene replayed in her mind.

      A crew of five lined the runway, ready to unload his royal highness’s luggage, and her one little carry-on bag. She’d chosen to pack conservatively since she planned to be back in Seattle in just a few days, but seeing all of his belongings next to her one well-used suitcase made the disparity between their social standing widen before her eyes.

      He ushered her into the back of the black limousine that was waiting for them, and she complied, mostly because she was in such awe of the wealth that surrounded her.

      Money she was used to. For the early part of her childhood her family had enjoyed quite a bit of luxury, and though there were a few years of poverty after her father left, she remembered what it was like to live in the most coveted home in the cul-de-sac. Even now her income was healthier than most, though she chose to save her money rather than spend it on frivolous possessions.

      But this…this was like nothing she had ever encountered.

      The sleek limo slid through the wrought-iron gates that served to divide the castle and its inhabitants from the serfs who populated the rest of the island. Massive stone statues of men with swords stood watch by the gates, as if to reinforce the exclusivity of the location.

      “No moat?” she asked facetiously as she gazed up at one massive turret that rose from the inner walls.

      “No, the crocodiles could never discern between the intruders and the residents, so it made for a lousy security system. Now we just have a silent alarm like everyone else.”

      His unexpected stab at humor brought a giggle to her lips. “No hot oil, then, either?”

      “Only in the kitchen.” A small smirk teased the corner of his mouth and she noticed a small dimple that creased his cheek. Why couldn’t he stay austere and distant? It was easier to see him as the opposition when he was being an autocrat, much more difficult to do so when he actually seemed likable.

      They came to a stop in front of the heavy double