The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Chapter 31

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘HAVE YOU EVER tried to find your father?’ Alessandra asked a short while later, her eyes filled with curiosity.

‘What for?’ he dismissed. ‘Why would I want to involve myself with a man who abandoned his wife and child?’

‘I get that,’ she said, pulling a face.

He closed his eyes. ‘Your father is an alcoholic and a gambler. He was incapable of looking after you. He didn’t abandon you. He’s always been a fixture in your life. There’s a difference.’

father dumped me on his father before I was a year old. Rocco took care of me from the moment I left hospital. My father wanted nothing to do with me—he still doesn’t. He’s never been there, not for any of the significant events in my life. My first Holy Communion    , my Confirmation, the time I represented Milan in the under tens’ gymnastics,’ she said, ticking the events off on her fingers. ‘He wasn’t at any of them. The few times he’s bothered to join us as

pods grown in very different gardens, Christian realised. They’d both been abandoned by the people who should have been there for them. For good or ill, it had shaped them both. The distrust

alike than he’d

across Alessandra’s high cheekbones, her eyes ablaze with furious passion, the honey-brown a darkened swirl. He’d seen that swirl before, when she’d been pressed against the wall of

unbelievably good in his arms, as if her contours had been shaped

those lithe legs around him and clung to him, as if trying to burrow under his

exposing the top of her golden cleavage, below which lay breasts that had

like now? Did they still taste so

got him into all this trouble in the first place, sitting in that Milanese restaurant, fascinated by her

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