When Mila finds out she's pregnant from a one-night stand with a reluctant prince, she is thrust into a fake romance with him; are her feelings that grow for him genuine or for his way of life that ensures her baby stability?|| Down-on-her-luck Mila...
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I stare at the pile of money in front of me, wondering how the heck it got to this point. I'm a twenty-one-year-old graduate nurse suddenly pregnant with a freaking royal baby.
Prince Kai left three hours ago and came back half an hour ago to drop off an envelope with a lot of money in it.
So now I'm a twenty-one-year-old graduate nurse, pregnant with a royal baby who suddenly has two thousand pounds in cash on her bed, and just screwed the fifth in line to the British throne for a second time.
How does this even happen? And how did we manage to just agree to this deal without so much of months of agonising? I don't understand how this is happening.
Well, I do get it. The birds and the bees and all that, but one minute it was all fun and sexy, and then two weeks later, it's money being exchanged and no father's rights and royal family and craziness.
The money is enticing and seeing this much in cash is insane. With this, I could pretty much go on a massive spending spree, or buy a new phone, or a new laptop... or anything, really. My wages are okay, but seeing this much is something else. And Kai told me he's only going to be giving me more as the pregnancy goes on.
Oh, to live like he does.
Well, I could. The moment I ring and tell him I've changed my mind, he would probably whisk me up in a black car, put me in the palace or wherever he lives and give me the easy life until I pop out his child. Then I'll probably be hidden away but still given a decent life while I bring up my son or daughter with palace officials poking in all the time.
Actually, once I pop out the baby, I'll probably be shipped off somewhere to a nice house, given money and told to be quiet while they bring up my baby.
Or is it that brutal? That sounds a little old-school Tudor-style. But you never hear of King Hugh or Princess Lucy having illegitimate children, and if they do, you never hear about them or the other party involved.
My phone vibrates, and I see my dad's contact screen.
"Hey, Dad," I answer.
"Hey, Poppet, you okay?"
I sigh. "Yeah, I, uh, I'm okay. You?"
"Mila, I know when you lie to me. Do you want to come over for a cuppa, cake, and a chat?"
I suddenly choke on my cries. "And a hug?"
"That goes without saying. Do you need me to come and pick you up?"
"No, no, I can drive. I'll be there in half an hour?"
