The Greek's Pregnant Bride

That was the last time she’d seen the coward. For a whole weekend, while her brother and grandfather had been in New York, she’d had to cope with a siege of paparazzi on her own. Those reporters had been there to witness Javier’s wife arrive at the villa and bang on the door until a guilt-stricken Alessandra had answered it, her fulsome apology ready on her tongue. She’d never had the chance to say the words. As soon as she’d opened the door, Javier’s wife had spat in her face, slapped her and called her a puttana—a whore. The press had caught every frame for posterity.

By the time her brother and grandfather had returned the damage had been done.

‘Why didn’t you ever put your side across?’ Christian asked. If he felt any pain in his fingers he didn’t show it, allowing her to continue squeezing tightly, as if he knew it to be an outward measure of the fury and pain recalling that awful time provoked.

‘I wasn’t allowed. Rocco and Nonno closed ranks.’ She attempted a laugh. ‘They were furious with me.’

‘Why? Your tutor took advantage of you. If they were furious with anyone, it should have been him.’

‘They were furious with him for taking advantage of me, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d been sneaking around with a man almost twice my age. They forbade me from speaking to the press, saying I’d caused enough shame on the family name.’ Even if she’d chosen to defy them, by the time she’d got over the shock that had rendered her virtually mute the press had moved on to its next victim. Alessandra Mondelli’s affair with a married man had been old news. No one had cared for her side.

from her grip and muttered another curse as he got to

where he’d rested his hand

to stand before him. ‘If I leave with you today, my career will be ruined. No editor or fashion director will ever trust me again. It’s the only thing I’ve got to hold onto, the only thing that gives my life any meaning.’ How could she expect him to understand that? Her career was all her

our child? Or does he or she not come

When our baby is born everything is going to change—I know that, and I’m preparing

not happy about this. You can’t take risks with your

mine, so please don’t patronise me

hands in the air and shook his head, not bothering

to argue any further. ‘I will hire a bodyguard for when I leave the apartment—I promise

a bodyguard for you,’ he insisted, looking only slightly mollified. ‘And I want your word of honour that if at

‘I promise.’