His Pregnant Christmas Princess
From runaway bride…To pregnant princess!When Princess Ana runs out on her wedding she needs a place to hide – fast! Family friend and sexy security tycoon, Rhys North’s Italian hideaway proves the perfect place to escape scandal. Until she has one unforgettable night in the arms of the brooding ex-soldier…
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From runaway brideâ¦
To pregnant princess!
When Princess Ana runs out on her wedding, she needs a place to hideâfast! Family friend and sexy security tycoon Rhys Northâs Italian hideaway proves the perfect place to escape scandal. Until she has one unforgettable night in the arms of the brooding ex-soldier⦠When Anaâs duty calls, they must go their separate ways, but as Christmas approaches, Ana realizes sheâs carrying an unexpected giftâ¦Rhysâs baby!
RITA® award-winning author LEAH ASHTON lives in Perth, Western Australia, and writes happy-ever-afters for heroines who definitely donât need saving. She has a gorgeous husband, two amazing daughters, and the best intentions to plan meals and maintain an effortlessly tidy home. When sheâs not writing Leah loves all-day breakfast, rambling conversations and laughing until she cries. She really hates cucumber. And scary movies. You can visit Leah at leah-ashton.com or facebook.com/leahashtonauthor.
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
ISBN: 978-1-474-07848-1
HIS PREGNANT CHRISTMAS PRINCESS
© 2018 Leah Ashton
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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For Linley.
A wonderful friend, and a wonderful writer.
(Also, for Gidget. Just because.)
Contents
One year ago
THE VELA ADA CITY LIBRARY was usually bustling on a Wednesday afternoon. Students would be studying at the small cluster of high-sided carrel desks beyond the rows of bookshelves, or chatting in groups on the brightly coloured sofas. Toddlers would try to sit neatly cross-legged beside babies cradled on parentsâ laps, listening in rapt attention to stories or nursery rhymes read by one of the librarians. And, of course, library patrons of every age would dot the aisles, or borrow books at the self-serve kiosks, or come to ask questions at the information desk.
Ana Tomasich stood at that information desk now, but the library was empty and silent. In her hand she held an opened envelope made of thick, expensive paper, and she turned that envelope over and over in her hands, rubbing her thumb occasionally over the elaborately embossed broken seal.
Outside, it was already dark on the tiny Mediterranean island, with the sun setting at four p.m. this Christmas Eve. Through the large glass windows at the front of the historic sandstone library building she could see the streets, crisscrossed with Christmas lights stretching between the cast-iron lamp posts that edged the cobblestone streets of Vela Adaâs modest capital city.
If she stood at a particular angle near the large print section, Ana knew she would also be able to see the huge, towering Christmas tree that stood, magnificent and twinkling, outside City Hall, only a short walk down the street. And from next to the after-hours return chute sheâd have a view all the way down to the Vela Ada marina, also decked out in elaborate Christmas lights, with angels and stars glittering above the swell of the Adriatic Sea.
