His Pregnant Princess by Maisey Yates

CHAPTER ONE
    “N ORMALLY I HAVE a lot more paparazzi to wrangle.” Liam Ryder leaned back against the wall, the motion seemingly casual. But if Alys knew one thing about Liam, it was that nothing he did or said was casual. Even his appearance was too afraid to do anything unexpected in his presence. His dark suit perfectly pressed. Not one gleaming black hair out of place.
    Alys studied him, her bodyguard, confidant, best friend, and, for all intents and purposes, her date to this extremely lavish wedding. She caught herself studying him far too often, in truth. The sharp angles of his face. The hard lines of his body. And she found herself, lately, keeping track of how many smiles she was able to coax from that serious mouth of his. “True, but then, normally, I’m not overshadowed by tech royalty. Or more specifically, technology’s biggest rivals turned lovers. Julia Anderson and Ferro Calvaresi are the story of the moment, and for once, I am not. Not even the newly married couple can rival them for newsworthiness.”
    “Disappointed?” he asked, a small smile curving his lips, his pale blue eyes glittering with humor. A point for her Liam Smile Book.
    “Not in the least. Perhaps I can eat without fear of being caught in an awkward chewing photograph. ‘Princess Alys gnaws on shrimp cocktail.’ Such a memorable caption. Newsworthy. Whatever else would they write about if I didn’t chew indelicately?”
    Nothing half so newsworthy as the announcement of her engagement to a man she barely knew, which was coming soon. Much sooner than she would like. All things considered, she would rather see the shrimp headline.
    “The public love things like that. They like to know you eat shellfish, just like they do.”
    “The people’s princess. Lover of common foods,” she said drily.
    “Quick, eat before the media’s new fascination break up,” he said.
    “Are you kidding? If they decide to break up, cameras will most definitely be on them. The fireworks will be unbelievable. Me chewing on shrimp will have nothing on the spectacle they’ll make.”
    “A reprieve, then.”
    “Indeed.” And it almost made her want to ask him to dance. But she couldn’t. They both knew that. It was one thing for him to go with her to events like this. He appeared as a date, dressed for the occasion, but he was essentially a shadow. Never stepping into the spotlight. Never calling attention to himself.
    Since he was well over six feet tall with arresting good looks, it was a skill she marveled at. And yet he did it with ease. He’d been her bodyguard for seven years, and she’d never been able to understand how he managed it.
    Considering that, he probably wouldn’t appreciate her dragging him onto the dance floor. And she imagined her father wouldn’t appreciate it either. A man like Liam was wholly unsuitable to make personal contact with her royal personage, at least in her father’s estimation.
    Unless, of course, he was moving her out of the way and jumping in front of a bullet for her—no one seemed to have a problem with that. Seemed hypocritical to her, but she didn’t make the rules.
    And then there was the small matter of Damien. The man to whom she would be engaged. The man she would eventually marry. This understanding had been in place for years and had to be preserved, which seemed to mean she wasn’t allowed to touch men of any sort. Not while the understanding was still being...more clearly understood. And certainly not now that the time was ticking on it all becoming more official.
    It’s time, Alys. Damien is ready to put things in motion for marriage. Your public relationship will start soon, followed by a more official announcement. Then the wedding.
    Alys closed off the memory of her father’s voice, of the conversation they’d had just before she’d left for this wedding.
    The clock was ticking on her freedom, louder now than ever.
    She looked at Liam again and her heart jolted a little. It did that