Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 336 London welcomed us back with its usual mood-gray skies, a light drizzle, and a temperature that made me seriously question why anyone would willingly leave Verdanian warmth for an English winter. It had been two weeks since our return, and life had settled back into its rhythm: work at Kensington during the day, quiet nights at home with Ginger, and weekends spent organizing the first details of the wedding. The engagement ring on my finger still felt surreal at times.

I'd catch myself staring at it during meetings, watching the light reflect off the diamond, my mind drifting back to that perfect moment at the winery when Nate had gone down on one knee beside me. Ginger had adjusted seamlessly to London life again, though I suspected she missed the wide vineyards and the warmer Verdanian weather. That particular night, we were lying in bed after making love, slow, deep, and unhurried in the way the English cold always seemed to inspire.

My body was relaxed and warm against Nate's, our breathing gradually evening out as I soaked in the sense of wholeness those intimate moments always gave me. Without realizing it, my hand had settled into its familiar place over my stomach, fingers resting lightly against still-warm skin. The gesture was so automatic, so unconscious, that I didn't even notice until Nate shifted slightly beside me. "I have a surprise for you," he said softly, his voice still wrapped in that drowsy, post-sex tone I loved.

instantly," I teased, turning my head toward him with a mischievous smile, "but after all that, I need at least five minutes." Nate laughed, but he shook his head. "Not that kind of surprise," he said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. "When we traveled, I talked to Christian about... about my condition." My heart gave a small jolt, a mix of curiosity and unease. We rarely talked about his infertility so directly, even though it somehow always hovered between

I should see a doctor. A fertility specialist." "Nate, you don't have to do that if it's going to frustrate you," I said quickly, reaching up to touch his face. The last thing I wanted was for him to go through false hope

was partly a product of the medicine at the time. The testing methods were more limited. Less precise." 1/2 My heart began to race, a hope

easy on you... lots of tests, hormones, procedures. Still... "His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Annie, do you want to try?" For a few seconds, I couldn't form words. The hope that