The Greek's Pregnant Bride

‘Thank you,’ she said, striving for breeziness.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Let me get my bag and we can go.’ The expansive room seemed to have shrunk in the space of seconds and she was glad to escape, if only for a moment.

In the sanctuary of the bedroom, she sat on the corner of the bed and took some deep breaths. Keep it together, Alessandra.

Keep it together?

At Rocco and Olivia’s wedding she’d been too worried about informing Christian of his impending fatherhood to read too much into the raging emotions sleeping with him had provoked. She’d assumed that, once she’d shared the news, her equilibrium would be restored. She hadn’t thought for a minute it would become more unstable around him, an instability that seemed to increase with every moment spent with him.

She would keep it together. She would. She was a pro at it.

Getting to her feet, she grabbed the gold clutch bag off the dresser and strolled back into the living area. Christian was leaning against the dining table, doing something on his phone. As soon as he saw her, he pressed the button to turn the screen off and quickly put it in the inside pocket of his blazer.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

was none of

idiot that she was, she’d believed him, had never imagined for a moment that the reason his phone never left his person was because he was married to a woman who’d lived through one

be secretive, then so be it. She had

white lie in the scheme of things? She couldn’t tell him his appearance had left her feeling so off-kilter she’d needed a moment to catch her breath and her

eating?’ she asked, following him

a French restaurant near

‘French?’

the

brows.

exclusive restaurant in Greece. The

but, truly, you can’t relax somewhere like that. Please, just for tonight, can’t we

flickered in

know somewhere! Please, take