The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Christian didn’t answer, keeping his gaze fixed evenly on Rocco.

‘You said neither of you meant it to happen, so I will ask you one more time: was she just a one-night stand to you?’

‘Yes.’

If Christian intended to elaborate on his one-syllable answer, his words went unsaid when Rocco’s arm shot out like a bullet.

‘Rocco, no!’ But her scream came too late to prevent her brother’s fist connecting with Christian’s nose, a resounding crack bouncing off the walls on impact.

Christian dropped to the floor with a thump.

Immediately Alessandra fell to her knees beside him. Vivid red blood seeped from his nose.

‘What did you do that for?’ she said, switching to Italian, half-shouting, half-screaming, not looking at Rocco, too busy checking Christian’s vital signs. The pulse in his neck pumped strongly, the only blessing she could cling to. She looked up at her brother, who stood frozen. ‘Don’t just stand there—call for an ambulance.’

Rocco’s broad chest heaved, his face a couple of shades paler than it had been when she’d walked into his office. ‘He doesn’t need an ambulance. He’s already coming round.’

Christian’s lips

ice,’ she snapped, somehow holding

on her lap. Being as gentle as she could, she ran her fingers over his hair,

should be getting used to

you still here?’ she snarled at her brother. ‘He

needs castration.’ He swore loudly. ‘You’re my sister and he’s a

with have been someone’s sister. He’s your

not—and I’m not oblivious to those other women

your sister. After what you’ve just done, I will never call you my brother again. I’ll walk myself

* * *

ringing in his ears Christian heard the sound of

that Alessandra speaking

face came the realisation that, yes, it was Alessandra—that it was her warm lap supporting his head, her gentle

the room, the door

the sound reverberated through his

gone better than he’d