Free The Princess is Pregnant! by Laurie Paige

since our last conflict,” Jean-Paul agreed, “but memories run deep. An alliance would go far toward erasing them.”
    “Perhaps Drogheda seeks more than a military and trade alliance,” Monteque suggested, observing him with a speculative, almost hostile, stare.
    Jean-Paul stiffened. “In what way?”
    “I wouldn’t advise one to toy with the royal princesses with an eye toward reaching the throne.”
    An urge to slam his fist into the admiral’s impassive expression rushed over him. He managed a cool smile. “Excellent advice, Admiral,” he agreed and, after executing a slight bow, left the office.
    Outside, with the wind at his back and the sun on his face, he made his way to the royal palace, his fury unabated. Neither he nor his homeland came to Penwyck, hat in hand, seeking favors.
    However, the situation with Megan complicated things, he had to admit. Her life and his own involved so many others. They had to think of the good of their two countries. To their respective rulers, no matter what the blood relation, the welfare of the nation had to come first.
    A longing came over him, so acute it caused an ache inside his chest. His blood thrummed with the wildness of that night with Megan. He experienced again the untamed yearning he’d found in her…and himself.
    But they couldn’t be wild and impulsive. It wasn’t allowed.
    So what of that one night they’d spent together? another part of him asked just as furiously.
    The arguments raged back and forth as he walked through the capital city. Pausing at one point, he gazed at the palace sitting on its knoll over the town and the sea.
    He could sense the intrigue that surrounded the royal residence like a mist, gathering subtly and invisibly behind every corner, a threat to him and his.
    A slight figure, hurrying from a large brick building, caught his attention. His body reacted, knowing her presence before his mind was sure.
    “Megan,” he called, and started forward at a run, then amended his behavior as several people stared at him. “Your Highness, a moment, please.”
    She stopped, glanced his way and hurried on.
    Puzzled and irritated, he followed at her pace when he was no more than two yards behind. When she entered the public gardens around the palace, he stayed with her. At the family gate, she hesitated, then waited to admit him into the private area.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping past her into the rose garden.
    Megan shook her head and made sure the gate had locked behind them. She went to her favorite alcove and sat on the wall overlooking the sea. Jean-Paul followed.
    “Megan,” he said more gently, “what has upset you?”
    When she had the tears under control, she answered him. “I work as a volunteer at the children’s hospital twice a week, or whenever I can.” Her throat clogged and she shook her head helplessly.
    “Yes?” he encouraged.
    “One of the children…a little girl, only three…” Again she shook her head.
    She saw he grasped the meaning of her despair. “Did she die?” he asked quietly.
    “Yes. In my arms. She was an orphan, ill, and no one…no one wanted her—”
    Megan stopped abruptly. Holding her breath, she sought the safety of her inner ice castle to contain the emotion, but Jean-Paul interrupted her efforts. He lifted her into his lap and held her close.
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    Such simple words, but they broke the icy control. She turned to him and pressed her face into his jacket. She didn’t, couldn’t, weep, but instead leaned against him, drawing from his strength as if immersed in a sea of tranquillity. He held her securely, not too tightly, but with a firm gentleness that soothed her heart.
    The sun bathed them in dappled light under the birch tree. Bees droned happily around the flowers. The sea teased the shore with delicate kisses upon its cheek. The weariness of days filled with uncertainty and nights spent tossing in restless, impossible dreams overcame her. With him