Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / From Boardroom to Wedding Bed?: Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair. Michelle Celmer

it. But she didn’t want to be the ice princess anymore. At least, not tonight. Tonight she wanted someone to know the woman underneath.

      Sam cradled her face in his palms and gently tipped it up to his, wiping the last of her tears away with his thumbs. She gazed up into eyes as clear blue as the ocean, and she could swear she felt something shift deep inside her.

      She wasn’t sure if he made the first move, or she did, or they met halfway, but suddenly their lips were locked, and in that instant she had never wanted a man more than she wanted him.

      Any man who accused Princess Anne of being cold and unfeeling had obviously never kissed her. She tasted sweet and salty, like champagne and tears, and she put her heart and soul, her entire being into it.

      Though Sam wasn’t quite sure who kissed whom first, he had the feeling he might have just unleashed some sort of wild animal. She clawed at his clothes, yanking his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, tugging his bow tie loose. She fumbled with his belt, unfastened his pants, and before he could manage to catch his breath, slid her hand inside his boxers and wrapped it around him. Sam cursed under his breath, a word that under normal circumstances he would never dare utter in the presence of royalty, but he was having one hell of a tough time reconciling the princess he knew with the wild woman who was now walking backward toward her bed, unzipping her dress and letting it fall to the floor. She plucked a jewel-encrusted comb from her hair and he watched as it spilled down over her shoulders like black silk. She grinned wickedly, tempting him with eyes the color of the sky just before a storm—smoky gray and turbulent.

      Though under normal circumstances he would find it juvenile and downright rude, when his mates dared Sam to ask Princess Anne, The Shrew, to dance, he’d had just enough champagne to take the bait. But never in a million years did he expect her to ask him first. Nor did he expect to find himself in her bedroom, Anne undressed to her black lace strapless bra and matching panties. And as she draped her long, lithe body across the mattress, summoning him closer with a crooked finger and a seductive smile, he guessed it wouldn’t be long before she wore nothing at all.

      “Take your clothes off,” she demanded as she reached around behind her to unhook her bra. Her breasts were small and firm and he could hardly wait to get his hands on them, to taste them. He ripped his shirt off, losing a button or two in his haste, then stepped out of his pants, grabbing his wallet for later. That was when he realized the mistake he’d made and cursed again.

      “What’s wrong?” Anne asked.

      “I don’t have a condom.”

      “You don’t?” she said, looking crestfallen.

      He shook his head. It wasn’t as if he came to these events expecting to shag, and even if he had, he would have anticipated taking the woman in question home, where he kept an entire box in his bedside table drawer.

      “I’ve got it covered,” Anne told him.

      “You have a condom?”

      “No, but I have it covered.”

      In other words, she was on birth control, but that wouldn’t protect either of them from disease. But he knew he was clean, and it was a safe bet to assume she was, too. So why not? Besides, Anne was wearing a look that said she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

      He dropped the rest of his clothes in a pile and joined her. As she dragged him down onto the bed, ravaging his mouth with a deep, desperate kiss, rolling him onto his back and straddling him, he had the feeling this was a night he wouldn’t soon forget.

      They had barely gotten started and it was already the best sex he’d ever had.

      Two

       September

      I’ve got it covered, Anne thought wryly as she dragged herself up from the bathroom floor, still weak and shaky, and propped herself against the vanity over the sink. What the bloody hell had she been thinking when she told Sam that? Had she not bothered to even consider the consequences? The repercussions of her actions?

      Well, she was considering them now. And she had no one to blame but herself.

      She rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face and the wave of nausea began to pass. The family physician, whom she had sworn to total secrecy, had assured her that she’d feel better in her second trimester. But here she was in her fifteenth week, three weeks past that magical date, and she still felt like the walking dead. But it was worth it, she thought, as she laid a hand over the tiny bump that had begun to form just below her navel.

      It was hard to believe that at first, when she learned she was pregnant, she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to keep it. Her initial plan had been to take an extended vacation somewhere remote and warm, live in exile until it was born, and then give it up for adoption. Then Chris’s wife, Melissa, had given birth to their triplets and Anne cradled her tiny niece and nephews in her arms for the first time. Despite never having given much thought to having children—it had always seemed so far off in the future—in that instant she knew she wanted her baby. She wanted someone to love her unconditionally. Someone to depend on her.

      She was going to have this baby and she was going to raise it herself. With support from her family, of course. Which she was sure she would get just as soon as she told them. So far only her twin sister, Louisa, knew. As for Sam, he obviously wanted nothing to do with her.

      Their night together had been like a fantasy come to life. She’d heard her sister talk for years about destiny and finding one true love. And in fact, Louisa’s dreams had come true at the ball—she was now married to her mystery man, Garrett Sutherland. But until Sam kissed Anne, until he made love to her so passionately, until, exhausted, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, Anne hadn’t truly believed in love. But now that she did, it would seem that Sam didn’t share her feelings.

      She had been sure that it had been as special for him as it had been for her, that they had connected on some deeply visceral level. Even when she had woken up alone and realized that at some time in the night he had slipped away without saying goodbye, she wouldn’t let her hopes be dashed. She kept waiting to hear from him. For weeks she stayed close to the phone, willing it to ring, hoping to answer and hear his voice. But the call never came.

      She shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Sam was a politician, and everyone knew that politics and royalty did not mix well. Not if Sam wanted to be prime minister someday, and that was what she’d heard. By law, no member of the royal family was permitted to hold a position in government. Could she honestly blame him for choosing a career he had spent his entire life preparing for over her? That was why she had made the decision not to tell him about the baby. It was a complication that neither of them needed. And one she was quite sure he didn’t want despite the scandal it would cause for her.

       She could see the headlines now. Princess Anne Pregnant with Secret Love Child.

      No matter how liberal the world had become in such matters, she was royalty and held to a higher standard. The stigma would follow her and, even worse, her child, for the rest of their lives. But at this point, she saw no other options.

      Feeling half-human again, she decided she should get back to the dining room and try to choke down a few bites of dinner. Geoffrey, their butler, had just begun to serve the first course when her stomach lurched and she’d had to excuse herself and dash to the loo.

      She gave one last furtive look in the mirror and decided that short of a total makeover, this was as good as it was going to get. She opened the door and almost collided with her brother Chris, who was leaning against the wall just outside.

       Bloody hell.

      His grim expression said that he had heard her retching, and he wanted to know what would cause her to be so ill.

      “Let’s have a talk,” he said, jerking his head toward the study across the hall.

      “But, supper …” she started to say, and he gave her that look.

      “Now,