King's Christmas Heir
Author
Lynne Graham
Reads
15.6K
Chapters
12
The king has an heir, but does he have a queen? A hidden baby royal romance by Lynne Graham, part of The Stefanos Legacy series! Last Christmas, he stole her heart… Now, she'll give him his heir! When kind-hearted Lara rescued Gaetano in a blizzard, she never imagined within weeks she'd be saying "I do" to the man with no memory. Or that when his true identity as future king is revealed, it would rip their passionate marriage apart… Reeling from his shock ascension to the throne, Gaetano was forced to prioritize his country. He didn't know Lara was already pregnant with a royal secret! Now, there's no way that Gaetano will let his son go… but can he convince his queen to stay? Previously published.
PROLOGUE
THE SNOW WAS falling in a blinding blur that ensured that the hiker couldn’t see more than a foot ahead of him. He was colder than he had ever known it was possible to be, which didn’t say much for his top-flight protective gear or the countless ski trips he had enjoyed since childhood. Those experiences had convinced him that he was a tough mountain man capable of handling anything that the weather could throw at him.
Too late now to realise how imprudent he had been, he acknowledged grimly. Vittorio’s illness had knocked him for six and his brother’s demand that he go off and live his own life while he suffered had almost sent him off the rails. He was neither impulsive nor foolish, but he had needed solitude to accept both Vittorio’s diagnosis and his wishes. In the grip of terrible grief, he had scorned the trappings of his world: the bodyguards, the five-star accommodation and private jets. That lifestyle attracted attention like a flashing neon light, and he didn’t want that. It had not once occurred to him that going fashionably off grid could endanger him. Innately confident, he had seen himself as mature and invincible. He had even argued about making a monthly phone call home, ostentatiously ditching his phone before his departure. He was twenty-seven years old...how mature had either of those decisions been?
Now that he was lost and likely to die of exposure such trivial concerns seemed a million miles from his current daunting reality. His confused, self-critical thoughts were drifting, blurring, his steps no longer sure in the heavy snow. Hypothermia, he guessed abstractedly, hitching his rucksack, which seemed to grow heavier with every second. In an abrupt movement, he began to struggle free of its weight and as he stepped forward again, feeling much lighter and freer, he caught a glimpse of lights and stared in disbelief through the falling snow at the small outdoor tree illuminated with a colourful string of lights. There was a house with a garden at the foot of the hill. He didn’t like Christmas. Indeed, he had never enjoyed Christmas, but that evidence of civilisation had never been a more welcome sight. As he descended the steep slope with the haste of impatience, he lost his footing and skidded into a fall that made him shout. He fell backwards, struck his head a glancing blow on a rock and knew no more...
