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The Queen's Baby Scandal
Maisey Yates
One night at the Italian’s ball… …has permanent consequences! Mauro Bianchi is stunned to discover the beautiful innocent who left his bed at midnight three months ago is a queen…and she’s pregnant! He’s never wanted a family, but nothing will stop this billionaire from claiming his heir. Queen Astrid can’t forget the pleasure of Mauro’s touch, despite her scandalous royal bombshell! To protect her throne, she's determined to raise her baby alone. Only now Mauro’s back, and his powerful presence is a constant reminder of their chemistry. And he has a demand: 'I want my child. '
One night at the Italian’s ball…
has permanent consequences!
Mauro Bianchi is stunned to discover the beautiful innocent who left his bed at midnight three months ago is a queen…and she’s pregnant! He’s never wanted a family, but nothing will stop this billionaire from claiming his heir.
Queen Astrid can’t forget the pleasure of Mauro’s touch, despite her scandalous royal bombshell! To protect her throne, she is determined to raise her baby alone. Only now Mauro’s back, his powerful presence a constant reminder of their chemistry. And he has a demand: “I want my child.”
MAISEY YATES is a New York Times bestselling author of over seventy-five romance novels. She has a coffee habit she has no interest in kicking, and a slight Pinterest addiction. She lives with her husband and children in the Pacific Northwest. When Maisey isn’t writing she can be found singing in the grocery store, shopping for shoes online and probably not doing dishes. Check out her website: maiseyyates.com (http://www.maiseyyates.com).
Also by Maisey Yates (#ufc28c622-4abb-5f43-b3b0-aa1ea4440592)
His Forbidden Pregnant Princess
Brides of Innocence miniseries
The Spaniard’s Untouched Bride
The Spaniard’s Stolen Bride
Once Upon a Seduction… miniseries
The Prince’s Captive Virgin
The Prince’s Stolen Virgin
The Italian’s Pregnant Prisoner
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
The Queen’s Baby Scandal
Maisey Yates
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08847-3
THE QUEEN’S BABY SCANDAL
© 2019 Maisey Yates
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#ufc28c622-4abb-5f43-b3b0-aa1ea4440592)
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To Jackie, Megan, Nicole and Rusty.
Finding true friends who understand you, relate to you,
make you laugh and even try to politely respond to the
100 raccoon pictures you send them a day
is a rare thing. I think it might even be magic.
Thank you for being my friends.
Contents
Cover (#u593d4f33-d1e5-5207-a981-9e877a155e5b)
Back Cover Text (#uaf5c27e1-55d4-5310-b9d8-26b76f2a593d)
About the Author (#ud712ad58-0dca-5a7b-9266-ed5a7ccf0fca)
Booklist (#u0b69de10-110f-50ff-be4b-b65fed989f08)
Title Page (#u915916fe-b739-5f83-8b8a-4b61b2ed3fbc)
Copyright (#u5ffbbc78-accd-5a5e-bbce-1536a8daa786)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#uc6f2b4fb-4fc4-5666-bc05-e43f9c351da4)
CHAPTER ONE (#u37b95314-c156-5e4f-a8ce-71443bb0aeef)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5159133b-9354-5eb2-af0b-ca461f434697)
CHAPTER THREE (#u09808d87-25a0-5c68-aa1b-67d2490aed0c)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ua72e3690-d163-5ae9-88e9-f30ba5a1fcfb)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ufc28c622-4abb-5f43-b3b0-aa1ea4440592)
QUEEN ASTRID VON BJORNLAND had never been to a club before. But she was reasonably familiar with the layout of the Ice Palace, nestled in the Italian Alps, hidden away from commoners and social riffraff—as defined by Mauro Bianchi, the billionaire owner of the establishment—in spite of the fact that it was a place she’d never before visited.
She and Latika had done an intense amount of research on the subject prior to hatching their plan, and image searches of the facility itself had been involved. Though, the findings had been sparse.
Mauro was intensely protective of the image of the club as exclusive. And the only photographs that existed were photographs that had been officially sanctioned by Mauro himself, and included only the main areas, and none of the VIP locations that the many articles Astrid had read stated were stationed throughout the club.
Her palms were sweaty, but she knew that the invitation that she held in her hand was good enough.
Latika had assured her of that. And Latika was never wrong.
When Astrid had been looking to hire an assistant the year before her father had passed, she’d made discreet inquiries among the circle of dignitaries and royalty she knew, and Latika had appeared the next day. Polished, sleek and just a bit too good to be true.
It hadn’t taken long for Astrid to realize Latika was hiding something.
“I had to get away from my father. He’s a very rich man, and looking to consolidate that wealth by marrying me off to a man who is… He’s not a good man. I will need to stay out of the spotlight completely. So all of my work will be done quietly, efficiently and with me out of the picture.”
That was all Astrid had needed to hear. She knew all about the looming specter of potential arranged marriages and overly controlling fathers.
And so, she had hired Latika on the spot.
She was a whiz of an assistant—and had become an even better friend, and ally—and able to conjure up near magic with the snap of her fingers. In this case, magic had included: an excuse for Astrid to go to Italy, a car rented on the sly, an extravagant and extravagantly skimpy designer dress, jewels and shoes, and a near impossible invitation to the party.
And now Astrid was standing and waiting behind the thick velvet rope, in line, for entry.
Astrid had never waited in a line before. Not once in her life.
Astrid had never waited full stop.
She had been born five minutes before her twin brother, Prince Gunnar, much to the dismay of her father and the entire house of nobility. And that had essentially set the tone for her entire life.
A tone that had led to this particular plan, as dangerous, unlikely and foolhardy as it was.
All of those adjectives had belonged to Latika. Who had scolded Astrid the entire time she had aided her in putting the plan together.
Latika had many opinions, but none of them really mattered. Both in terms of what she would help Astrid accomplish, and in terms of what Astrid would choose to do. She would make happen whatever Astrid asked her to make happen. And that was the simple truth of it.
Astrid tugged at the hem of her impossibly short white dress. It was daring, and nothing like she would wear in her real life, but that had been part of the plan.
She could not look like Queen Astrid. If her brother found out, he would come down to the club and physically drag her out. Not to mention if any of the various government officials found out, they would do the same.
But she was doing what had to be done to wrest control of her kingdom into her own hands. Control of her future.
She would find other ways if need be, but this plan had come together with so much expert timing that Astrid was willing to chance it for several reasons.
And, she had been willing to wear a gown that was essentially a suit jacket with nothing beneath it. The neckline gaped, showing curves and angles of her body she normally kept well hidden.
Her red hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders, and she was wearing a single, long emerald on a chain, which swayed perilously between her cleavage and made her feel like she was drawing attention.
Of course, if she wasn’t drawing attention to her cleavage, then she was calling attention to her legs, with that abbreviated hemline in the sky-high heels. And perhaps her rear, where she knew the white dress clung with a kind of saucy cheekiness. At least, that was what Latika had told her.
But the final thing that Latika had said to her as she had dropped her in front of the queue for the club was that she absolutely had to be back out at the curb by two in the morning.
The timing was essential, and if she missed the timing at all, not only could the plan be in jeopardy, but Latika’s job certainly would be. And by extension possibly Latika herself, given that her position at the palace had been insulation for her for the past three years.
Astrid was the figurehead for her country. And she had power, it was true. But her father’s antiquated board, along with the elected government, had authority and if something was ever put to a vote, whether it be a member of staff or law, then Astrid would be outweighed. It would be thus, she had been assured, even if Gunnar had been made king. Even if he were not born five minutes after his sister.
Though, Astrid was not convinced of this.
And she had found a loophole. And that loophole was why she was here.
