Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir: Royal Baby, #1

By Layla Valentine and Ana Sparks

He's a prince, and I'm his wedding planner,

But I didn't plan on having his baby!

 

Sasha:

It was supposed to be my dream job,

Plan the no-expense-spared wedding of a European prince.

But it's not the fairytale wedding everyone thinks,

It's a loveless engagement, for a sham marriage.

And now I've broken my one rule:

I've slept with my client.

Dashing playboy Prince Antonio

The man no woman can tie down

Is going to be a father.

 

Antonio:

The King and Queen gave me an ultimatum;

Find a fiancée or surrender my claim to the throne.

They never said I had to love the girl.

There is one plus side to this arrangement though…

That sweet little wedding planner giving me eyes.

She knows it's wrong, and she wants me all the more for it

And something tells me she'll crumble the second I make my move.

I'm gonna give her something to feel guilty about.

After all, I'm not married yet…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Layla Valentine
• Release date: Feb 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201928124

Book preview

ROYAL BABY: HIS UNPLANNED HEIR

Book One

LAYLA VALENTINE

ANA SPARKS

Copyright © 2022 by Layla Valentine

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 1

ANTONIO

Sunlight blared through the curtains and I grimaced as I rolled over onto my stomach. A wave of nausea washed through my body as I burrowed into the warm and inviting blankets, every fiber of my being wishing morning hadn’t yet arrived. My muscles ached and I had a pounding migraine, but I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the events of the night before.

I had spent the previous night on a friend’s yacht, enjoying one of the best parties I could have asked for with my pick of the social elite. Booze had flowed freely among us, with the women as plentiful and beautiful as the flowers on the Italian hillside. It had been a gathering fit for royalty.

And royalty I was.

I was Prince Antonio di Maggio, and my parents were the King and Queen of the Kingdom of San Paluzzi, one of wealthiest micronations in the world. Tucked within Italy and filled with only the crème de la crème of European society, this was the place anyone who dreamed of success hoped to land. Luxurious houses dotted the landscape and gated communities were the norm. It was the one place on the planet that I would consider absolute paradise—and one day it was all going to be mine.

Right now, Mother and Father did all of the work, tending to the major decisions and ensuring the lasting prosperity of all who were a part of the community, and I respected them for it. I hoped one day I might be able to rise to the same level of greatness they had, and show not only San Paluzzi but the entire world that I was an effective leader.

But, in the meantime, I was going to enjoy my youth as much as possible. Of course, this meant I was going to spend my nights at the latest party, flirting with only the prettiest women, then sleep off the effects of the night before in the pampering luxury of my family’s yacht. Life couldn’t have been going any better for me, and I was certain nothing was ever going to change.

A knock at the door roused me from my dozing state, and I looked over my shoulder with a groan. I couldn’t see what time it was with my phone lying face down on my night stand and the room still too dim to make out the hands on the clock which hung on the opposite wall. When the knock persisted, I groggily answered in my most annoyed voice.

The door opened and my butler walked in. I knew it was him, but I still acted surprised that he would dare to bother me so early in the morning. At least, I assumed it was early—it was hard to know for sure with the light blinding me and my headache making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

I allowed my head to fall heavily back on the pillow, doing my best to show him how disinterested I was in any business he brought to me.

What do you want, Moretti? I snapped.

I’ve a message for you, Prince Antonio. It came directly from the King.

He stood holding a piece of paper in his hand, and I lifted my head once more in surprise. It was rare for my father to pay any extra attention to me these days. It was my duty to show up to the parties, meetings, and dinners he told me to show up for, and that was about it. If there was anything of any importance, it was discussed then.

What does it say? I asked, the concern in my voice masked with disinterest and distance.

They are summoning you to the palace immediately, Moretti replied flatly. I could hear how unimpressed he was with the way I was treating the situation, but I really didn’t care. It wasn’t up to him to judge how I ran my life.

How immediately is immediately? I asked sarcastically. I knew what he—and they—wanted, but I embraced my princely rights and knew I was going to run the day on my own clock as I always did. I would have appreciated him bringing me breakfast along with the note, and I wasn’t going to make his job any easier than it needed to be.

You know how his majesty feels about being kept waiting. Her majesty, too. They sent this early this morning in the hope that you would be there in time for breakfast—which, as you know—is eight o’clock sharp. He spoke with an air of loftiness and I felt anger burn in my chest.

You mean it’s not even eight yet?! How dare you wake me this early! I have a splitting headache, my body hurts, and I feel sick—I have half a mind to tell you to get out until lunch, Moretti! I snapped with as much passion as I could muster, but there was little change in his expression.

He walked over to the window and threw open the curtains, causing light to flood into the room. I, of course, grabbed the pillow and flung it over my eyes, swearing at the man for his incompetence. Moretti, by contrast, seemed entirely untouched by my disdain.

"My apologies, but my orders do come from the King, and he directed me to get this to