The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Chapter 11

After much searching, he tracked her down. She was sitting on the stone steps that led into Lake Como. Only one yacht remained from the handful that had been moored overnight.

She didn’t acknowledge his presence.

Today she was dressed in ankle-length tight white jeans and a pale-pink cashmere top, the V plunging down to display a hint of swollen cleavage, the only outward physical sign of the changes taking place within her.

What other changes were taking place within that gorgeous form...?

A stark image came into his mind of the perfection of her breasts, the way they seemed to have been made to fit his hands... If he closed his eyes he could still taste them, taste her...

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked abruptly, forcing thoughts of her naked body from his mind as he sat on the cold stone beside her.

‘About as well as can be expected,’ she replied after a long pause.

‘I never asked last night how you’re coping with the pregnancy—physically, I mean.’

pause. ‘So far I’ve been lucky. No morning

schedule so I can stay in Milan for

got a shoot to do.’ She cast sharp eyes at him. ‘And, before you accuse me of being selfish again, I’d like to point out that for me to cancel the shoot would mean a good dozen

least she was willing to see a doctor with him. That was a

are in agreement

hair behind an ear. ‘If we marry, we both automatically become

and capable of ruining people but it was the only way he could

at him. ‘If anything happens to me, you have sole

the sudden solemnity in her tone. ‘Why are you talking like

died?’ she asked

other than to say she’d died when he was seven.’ Alessandra would have been a baby, he realised, doing the maths for the

didn’t falter. ‘She died having

Theos...

said.’ He shook his head,

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