His Pregnant Princess Bride

His Pregnant Princess Bride
Catherine Mann

A princess and a Southern billionaire are expecting twins! Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann!His focus is on his family’s football dynasty. Louisiana billionaire Gervais Reynaud has no time for romance. But he can’t say no to a tryst with Erika Mitras. True, she’s a princess, but in no way prim…or proper. Their time together is unbelievable…and all too short.When Erika said goodbye, she meant it. But now she must tell Gervais the truth. He’s about to be a father…to royal twins. After leaving her overbearing family, Erika wants nothing from Gervais. But the tempting tycoon just may charm her into a future she desires all too much.

Erika wasn’t at all what he expected when he’d spotted a foreign princess on the guest list.

He’d envisioned either a stiff-necked dignitary or a football groupie bent on a photo op and a chance to meet his players. He didn’t come across many people who dared tell him they didn’t like football.

How contrary that her disinterest in his world made her all the more appealing. Yes, she aroused him in a way he couldn’t recall having felt about any woman before.

And quite possibly some of that allure had to do with the fact that for once in his life he wasn’t under the scrutiny of the American media.

Perhaps if he was careful he could do something impulsive without worrying about the consequences rippling through his family’s world.

* * *

His Pregnant Princess Bride

is part of the Bayou Billionaires series—Secrets and scandal are a Cajun family legacy for the Reynaud brothers!

His Pregnant Princess Bride

Catherine Mann

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN lives on a sunny Florida beach with her flyboy husband and their four children. With more than forty books in print in over twenty countries, she has also celebrated wins for both a RITA® Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. Catherine enjoys chatting with readers online—thanks to the wonders of the internet, which allows her to network with her laptop by the water! Contact Catherine through her website, www.catherinemann.com (http://www.catherinemann.com), find her on Facebook and Twitter (@CatherineMann1 (https://twitter.com/catherinemann1)) or reach her by snail mail at PO Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.

To my dear friend and former neighbour from Louisiana—Karen.

Thank you for all the Mardi Gras cakes and celebrations!

Contents

Cover (#u9eab9bb5-4b78-54d1-993f-a064943541fe)

Introduction (#u2952c242-ebc0-5b7f-9d6b-05240e21a8b2)

Title Page (#ua5a878e8-6641-5f4f-bbc8-cb9b1efe8194)

About the Author (#u35666a7d-3493-5380-9966-bd39e44a5d56)

Dedication (#u09214708-c4cc-5751-a7fb-282786e56dad)

Prologue (#u36ee5326-933a-52a3-ab59-3858ac8be961)

One (#u504e3a04-5a02-52c5-94af-9fa5dfb21048)

Two (#u3a0e9a28-7dd8-56f8-a74d-6055bf420a23)

Three (#u095b38a5-1edf-5881-8770-cc030c23512a)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#ulink_76c31b44-0bd2-5dfe-99bd-6c27e7ea5fc7)

“I have to confess, I don’t care for the football at all.”

Princess Erika’s declaration caught Gervais Reynaud off guard, considering they’d spent the past four hours in the private viewing box overlooking Wembley Stadium, where his team would be playing a preseason exhibition game two months from now.

As the owner of the New Orleans Hurricanes NFL team, Gervais had more important things to do than indulge this high-maintenance Nordic princess he’d been seated beside during today’s event, a high-stakes soccer match that was called “football” on this side of the globe. A game she didn’t even respect regardless of which country played. Had it been sexist of him to think she might actually enjoy the game, since she was a royal, serving in her country’s army? He’d expected a military member to be athletic. Not unreasonable, right? She was definitely toned under that gray, regimented uniform decorated with gold braid and commendations.

But she was also undoubtedly bored by the game.

And while Gervais didn’t enjoy soccer as much as American football, he respected the hell out of it. The athletes were some of the best in the world. His main task for today had been to scout the stadium, to see what it would be like for the New Orleans Hurricanes when they played here in August. He’d staked his business reputation on the team he owned, a move his financial advisers had all adamantly opposed. There were risks, of course. But Gervais had never backed away from a challenge. It went against his nature. And now his career was tied to the success of the Hurricanes. The media spotlight had always been intense for him because of his family name. But after he’d purchased the franchise, the media became relentless.

Previewing the Wembley Stadium facilities at least offered him a welcome weekend of breathing room from scrutiny, since the UK fan base for American football was nominal. Here, he could simply enjoy a game without a camera panning to his face or reporters circling him afterward.

He only wished he could be watching the Hurricanes play today. He’d put one of his brothers in charge of the team as head coach. Another brother ran the team on the field in the quarterback position. Sportswriters back in the United States implied he’d made a colossal mistake.

Playing favorites? Clearly, they didn’t know the Reynauds.

He wouldn’t have chosen from his family unless they were the best for the job. Not when purchasing this team provided his chance to forge his own path as more than just part of the Reynaud extended-family empire of shipping moguls and football stars.

But to do that successfully, he had to play the political game with every bit as much strategy as the game on the field. As a team owner, he was the face of the Hurricanes. Which meant putting up with a temperamental princess who hadn’t grasped that the “football team” he owned wasn’t the one on the field. Not that she seemed to care much one way or the other.

Sprawled on the white leather sofa, Gervais tossed a pigskin from hand to hand, the ball a token gift from the public relations coordinator who’d welcomed him today and shown him to the private viewing box. The box was emptying now that the clock ran out after the London club beat another English team in the FA Cup Final. “You don’t like the ball?”

She waved an elegant hand, smoothing over her pale blond hair sleeked back in a flawless twist. “No, not that. Perhaps my English is not as good as I would wish,” she said with only the slightest hint of an accent. She’d been educated well, speaking with an intonation that was unquestionably sexy, even as she failed to notice the kind of football he held was different than the one they’d used on the field. “I do not care for the game. The football game.”