The Prince's Scandalous Baby (12 page)

SEVENTEEN

Giancarlo shut the doors against the flood of questions still floating up from below.

“That was incredible,” Juliette said. Her hands were still shaking. She had never had that many eyes on her at one time; she felt like she’d been under a microscope.

But if Giancarlo felt even a little bit shaken, he didn’t show it. He seemed happy and calm. He had a wide smile on his face, and his arms were completely steady as he took her into them. His lips were warm against hers as he kissed her, again and again.

Juliette’s head was spinning. She’d just seen him declare his love for her in front of everyone. In front of his father, and his people and…in front of the press.

Juliette froze, mid-kiss.

“What is it?” Giancarlo asked, concern on his face.

“My parents!” she said. She was already pulling back and looking around the room for her purse.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said. “Have you not told them?”

She got out her phone, ready to make the call, then hesitated. “I hadn’t,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how they’d react. I wasn’t sure how they’d feel about me not having told
you
, to be honest.”

“And now you have. And I’m overjoyed, and they will be, too.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know.”

She paused looking at the phone. “You know, they probably won’t find out about it. They’re not much for reading the news—not international royal news, anyway.”

Giancarlo nodded. “If you say so. I tend to imagine that everyone everywhere wants to hear about my family, the way the cameras follow us around. But I can imagine how people back in…” He paused, then, as though it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “Where are you actually from?”

Juliette laughed. She couldn’t help herself. The absurdity of the situation had revealed itself to her, and now that her heart was out of danger, she could see the funny side.

Luckily, Giancarlo did too, and he laughed right along with her.

When they’d both exhausted themselves laughing, they sat back down on the sofa together, the way they had been before.

“Wisconsin,” Juliette said finally. “I’m from Wisconsin. I came here for a study-abroad semester in the beginning of sophomore year and found that I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. I’ve just graduated, actually.”

“And what did you study?”

Juliette smiled to herself. The absurdity had faded, but it was still odd; they were having first date questions after they had just announced to the world that they were in love and would be having a child together. It was better this way, she thought. All those little questions and the basic facts of the other person’s life were so much better knowing that there was love and acceptance to greet them, whatever the answers were.

“Italian Translation. I love the culture, and the language—I have since I got here. And I was thinking, as an American, it might be the best way to get to find a job and stay on in the country after I graduated.”

“But no luck?”

He was playing with her hair again, the way he had earlier. Pulling it back from her face so that he could see her better.

She shook her head. “None.”

Giancarlo laughed to himself. “Well, you found another way of staying in Italy. Not sure that was what you were going for, though…”

Juliette smiled, but a cloud of reality was passing over the perfect sunshine of the moment.

“Is that what you want? To stay in Italy?”

In the moment before he answered, she knew what she wanted him to say. The idea of staying in Italy, though it had been all she’d thought about in the months leading up to her graduation, seemed less appealing to her now. Not with Giancarlo’s father always there, hovering. Not with the press analyzing everything she said or did. Elsewhere, there might be some anonymity. People wouldn’t be so interested if it weren’t
their
prince, she suspected.

When Giancarlo answered that he wasn’t really interested in staying in Italy, she was relieved.

“After all, I don’t think my father’s going to be very happy with me—not after the conversation we had today. But if you want to stay, we can stay. I’m happy to share my country with you, now and always.”

Juliette shook her head slowly and saw the smile bloom across his face. She loved that she could give him smiles like that.

“And where do you want to go?” she asked. “The States?” She caught a hold of his hand as it was playing with her hair and kissed it. “If you really want to go to Wisconsin. My parents are there. It’s a good place, I suppose, for when the baby comes.”

“Wisconsin,” Giancarlo said to himself, looking up at the ceiling. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of the place. It’s a state, I gather.”

Juliette smiled. “Yes, it’s a state. Famous for cheese.”

Giancarlo donned a look of mock surprise. “Well, what do you know? I’m
also
from a place famous for cheese.”

Juliette laughed, and watched as his hand went down to her belly and rested there.

“I think we’re doomed to have a very cheesy baby.”

Juliette lay her hand on top of his. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the very tip of her nose. “Oh no,” he said. “I couldn’t think anything about our child was a bad thing.”

They talked long into the night. The phone rang again, but Giancarlo only gave it a cursory glance before ignoring it and turning it off completely.

“What if it’s something important?” Juliette asked, but he only replied that everything that was important to him was already in this room.

They talked about where they would go. Juliette had a few ideas, but Giancarlo was full of them. It was like he had had a whole lifetime of travel plans built up inside of him that he was never able to act on, and now was the time he would actually get to go.

But more interesting than the “wheres” they discussed were the “whys”. The conversation of where the desires had come from was a gateway into their pasts. They talked about what they’d wanted as children, and the silly things they’d thought about the world. They talked about the little things they most liked, and the people they most admired.

It was as though the conversation they’d had when they met the first time had been through a filter. They’d both talked about themselves, but everything had been sort of disguised. It was refreshing, Juliette thought, to sort it all out for herself, and see the real past and desires that had been underpinning their original conversation.

They decided to begin with Morocco. She watched Giancarlo book the tickets from his laptop, working around a flood of emails that looked to be from his assistant, his father’s assistant, and the various news outlets that had managed to get his email address.

“When will we deal with those?” Juliette asked, the phrase unable to worry her as much as she thought, deep down, it really should.

“When we’re far away,” Giancarlo answered softly.

She smiled, and soon she was answering all the questions Giancarlo had about her pregnancy. He had so many of them, Juliette was almost at a loss. He seemed to have no experience with it all, but wasn’t letting it dampen his enthusiasm in the slightest.

Finally, Juliette fell asleep. For all she could tell, it happened in the middle of the sentence. All she knew was that she was safe, and happy, and with the man she loved. And whatever the future held for them, they would be ready for it.

EIGHTEEN

For the first time in weeks, Juliette woke gradually, without feeling sick. She was, however, very confused. The apartment around her was all so grand and unfamiliar. She way lying in the softest bed she’d ever felt, staring and beautiful walls with what had to be the most impressive reproductions of fine art that she’d ever seen.

And then Giancarlo came into view, with an empty suitcase in his hand, and everything made sense.

He set the suitcase down on the bed and opened it so that he could fill it. He leaned over her, planting a kiss firmly on her forehead.

“Good morning, gorgeous. How did you sleep?”

“Well, I think. I had no idea where I was when I woke up, so I must have slept pretty well.”

He looked at her, concerned. “I’m sorry, I carried you in here because I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mind. Wherever I am, if I’m with you, that’s good enough for me.”

“Good,” he said, moving to start packing. “Because there are lots of places I want to take you.”

“Morocco!” Juliette remembered, from the hazy conversation the night before. “When do we leave?”

Giancarlo looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Soon enough that I should get a move on packing. There’s breakfast in the kitchen, if you’d like it. I don’t really cook, but I gave it a try.”

She looked towards the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

“Is it toast?” she asked, and he grinned.

“It
might
be toast.”

She was hungry—she always was, these days—but made no effort to move. She liked watching him. Yesterday had been so sudden and such a whirlwind. But here, waking up with him like this, it all felt so much more real.

“Don’t you usually have someone to do this for you?”

“What, pack?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Sometimes,” he said. “When I travel in Italy there’s a schedule, and an entourage and all that. But we’re not taking a trip around Italy. And, anyway, I’m kind of avoiding messages from the staff, at the moment. I said I’d deal with it all when we were far away, and we’re not exactly far away yet, are we?”

He was smiling, but Juliette couldn’t help but feel a kernel of worry at the words. She pushed it down, and went for a shower in the luxurious bathroom. She was excited to start a new, exciting life with the Prince. Saying that, looking at his bathroom, she wouldn’t have minded one or two more days in the apartment. She wanted to have time to discover fully what all of those nobs and settings did.

By the time she’d come back out and got dressed, Giancarlo was ready to go. They left the apartment, hand in hand.

There were a few straggling reporters outside, but Giancarlo waved them off with nothing but a polite smile and a few words about how he was stepping out with his girlfriend.

The word ‘girlfriend’ gave Juliette a little thrill when she heard it. On the one hand, it felt like a huge step to take with a man she’d only known for a few days; on the other, it felt like far too insubstantial a word to describe what they were to each other.

They made a quick stop at Juliette’s hotel to collect her luggage, and Juliette felt a brief flicker of shame as she wondered what the Prince might think about the best place she could afford to stay in. But he didn’t make any comments, or seem to look down on it in any way. And for that, she loved him a little more.

Finally, they headed to the airport. Their flight was due to leave in just a couple of hours, and Juliette could feel the excitement welling up in her more and more.

Check in was a breeze. The security staff were oddly friendly, and let them go on ahead. Traveling with a prince seemed to be a different beast altogether than the uncomfortable coach journey Juliette had taken just a few days ago.

They were headed to the VIP lounge, for yet another welcome little convenience, when Giancarlo stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?” Juliette asked, after she’d nearly run into him.

Giancarlo nodded towards a security guard who was standing outside the VIP lounge. “That’s one of my father’s men. His head of security, actually.”

Juliette could feel the blood draining from her face. “We don’t have to wait in there,” she said. “It’s really not so bad to wait at the gate…”

But Giancarlo didn’t look at her. He just kept staring at the entrance to the VIP lounge. His father’s head of security had seen him, and recognized him, now.

“No,” Giancarlo said. “I have to speak to him. I may never see him again, if this doesn’t go well. I at least owe him a goodbye. He is my father after all.”

That said, he turned to look at her. “But you don’t have to see it. Go get something to eat. I’m sure they have something around here that’s better than toast.”

If Juliette hadn’t been convinced before, the slight trace of a smile on his face and the reminder of the sweetness of waking up to a man who had made her breakfast was enough to turn the tide.

“There’s no universe in which I’d let you go in there alone,” she said.

He peered at her through narrowed eyes, as though deciding whether or not to fight her on this, before he apparently decided against it.

“All right, then,” he said. “Here we go.”

“Here we go,” she repeated, and they headed towards the door.