CHAPTER EIGHT
The Prince’s Pregnant Mistress
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
This book is dedicated with love to the mischievous and inspirational
Monica Black— whose talents as wife, mother and
raconteur are legendary.
GOLDEN light streamed down from the vaulted ceiling but Melissa didn’t pay it any attention. Even palaces paled into insignificance when measured against the realisation that her moment had come.
At last.
Sometimes it seemed as if her life had been defined by this moment—and that her future would be determined by its outcome. A moment she could trace right back to that terrifying second when she’d held the strip of plastic in her shaking fingers and seen the unmistakable blue line which had confirmed her pregnancy.
And the world as she’d known it had changed for ever.
‘Did you hear me, Melissa?’ Stephen’s voice punctured her ballooning thoughts. ‘I said that the King will see you shortly.’
‘Yes. Yes, I heard you,’ said Melissa, her heart beginning to pound as she allowed herself a brief glance in one of the ornate mirrors which lined the ante-room of the Zaffirinthos palace. She was not a vain woman—there would have been no time for vanity in her life even if her looks had warranted it. She had the kind of face which wouldn’t have launched even a single ship—let alone a thousand. But an audience with the King…
