Prince Baby Daddy (Book Three): Prince Baby Daddy, #3

By Layla Valentine and Holly Rayner

He's the playboy prince, who always gets anything – and anyone – he wants
The one thing he didn't want is a baby!

I'm Europe's most notorious playboy, and next in line to the throne.
My trysts are legendary; I'm never far from the front page.
But the clock is ticking on my freedom.
If I don't find a blue-blooded bride soon, my royal parents are threatening to force one upon me.
And that's not all...
The gorgeous Texan gal I hooked up with for one night only?
She had my baby.
And it could be the start of a very royal scandal…

 

This is the third book in the Prince Baby Daddy series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Layla Valentine
• Release date: Feb 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201383381

Book preview

PRINCE BABY DADDY

Book Three

LAYLA VALENTINE

HOLLY RAYNER

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

1. Jane-Ann

2. Christian

3. Jane-Ann

4. Christian

5. Jane-Ann

6. Christian

7. Jane-Ann

8. Jane-Ann

CHAPTER 1

JANE-ANN

The hours between my water breaking and now are a blur. A painful, sweaty blur.

Blakely ran around the house gathering the few baby supplies I had managed to buy and some baby shower gifts, shoving them into a backpack along with a change of clothes for me, a toothbrush, and my makeup bag.

Makeup isn’t a very high priority, I groaned as the dull ache in my lower back that had been bothering me all day became worse and worse with each passing second.

First impressions are important, Blakely shouted back.

In the end, I met my son with a bare, sweaty face, but the biggest smile in the world. He was perfect.

Before seeing him, I worried I wouldn’t be maternal enough. Because I hadn’t planned for the pregnancy or intended to have children before at least having a serious boyfriend. I worried I would view him as a burden. But as soon as I saw his face, I knew all of those fears had been baseless.

His round chubby cheeks were perfect for kissing, and he had a bright burst of golden hair that stuck up in every direction. I was a bald baby, so I assumed he got that from Christian, but I couldn’t know for sure. Probably would never know.

Christian’s absence doesn’t sink in until the baby falls asleep, and I am left alone with my thoughts. Blakely left to shower and pick up a few more things, and since it was after midnight, my parents went home to sleep and promised to come back in the morning. So, it is just my son and me. Alone.

Nurses come in and out to check his temperature, give me pain medication, and massage my stomach to make sure my uterus is contracting back to normal size. Otherwise, I’m wholly responsible for the tiny life snoozing next to me. And the immensity of it is almost overwhelming.

Blakely has sworn over and over again that she will help however she can, and even though I plan to abuse her kindness for babysitting, I can’t rely on her to help me with middle-of-the-night wake-ups and diaper blowouts. I can’t expect her to sit in the emergency room with me when he gets sick or help me comb over the pros and cons of different daycares and preschools.

I know Blakely will be an incredible help, but she won’t be a parent. She won’t be his father. She can’t be.

I swallow back my rising emotions and focus on my son’s tiny face. I hope that by studying his features, I’ll not only convince myself I can handle this but also think of the perfect name for him. The nurse assured me there is no rush, but I don’t want to call him baby anymore. He is going to be the most important person in my life, and I want to know who he is going to be.

My baby naming brainstorming session is cut short by an unplanned nap. One moment, I’m staring at my son’s face, the next I’m opening my bleary eyes and unleashing an epic yawn that seems to come from my very soul.

Tired? a deep voice asks.

In my half-asleep state, I think I recognize the baritone voice, but before I can even summon the name, I bat the idea away. It can’t be him.

I can’t imagine why. You haven’t done much today.

The person speaks again in deep, honeyed tones that, along with the cool sarcasm, force my heavy eyelids open. I know this voice.

When I see him standing over the baby’s bassinet, looking down at him, his blond hair too long and hanging over his eyes, I just enjoy the view. When I wake up from this dream, I’ll want to sink back into it, but that never works. So, I better enjoy the sight of Christian standing next to our son while I can because it won’t last long.

He turns to me, and I smile at him, all of his past sins forgiven. Because, even if it is only in my dream, he came. Even if it is two months late, he came. Christian came to see our son and that is all that matters to me.

Dream Christian smiles back, but quirks his head away, one eyebrow raised. Are you on drugs or something?

I frown and glance up at the saline bag hanging next to my bed. I don’t know.

He chuckles to himself and moves to sit down at the edge of my bed. I feel the weight of him sink into the mattress. Feel myself tilt toward him. It all seems so real. I can even feel the heat from his body through the blanket, warming my leg.

If you’re smiling at me like that, they must have you on something powerful, he says, his smile faltering slightly. Sorry I’m a little late.

You’re right on time, I