The Greek's Pregnant Bride

He knew what his response must be.

‘Yes,’ he said, nodding slowly for emphasis. ‘I will support you and our child. But in return I want you to marry me.’

* * *

The comb holding Alessandra’s hair in place had been digging into her scalp all day, a minor irritation that suddenly felt magnified enough for her to yank it out. She got to her feet, swiping fallen hair off her face.

For a moment she couldn’t speak, her brain struggling to find the English she’d spoken like a native since early childhood. ‘I know this is a shock for you. I know, okay? But marriage?’

‘Yes, marriage.’

She shook her head, trying her hardest not to let panic set in. ‘Please, don’t say anything you’ll regret in the morning when you look at the situation with fresh eyes.’

won’t change the

I still won’t be

think about it. This

century. There’s no stigma

understand. ‘Children need and deserve two parents. You know that as

He’d abandoned her almost from her first breath. By the time of her first birthday, he’d gambled and drunk away their home and had foisted Rocco and her into the care

blindsided. Marriage was the last thing she’d expected Christian to suggest. The most she’d hoped for was public support for her and their child, and even that

when it suited him. She’d even prepared her ‘please don’t introduce our child to a succession of aunties’ speech. In her head she’d prepared for just about every imaginable scenario. Apart from the scenario where he

please, be

finished for her, meeting her gaze with steady

out together, the night their baby had been conceived. Fools had been just one of the many words they’d used to describe people who willingly

Something neither of us