The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Amidst howls of laughter, thousands of hard grains were chucked over them from every possible angle. Zayed and Stefan got hold of him and tipped a cupful down the back of his morning suit, rubbing them into his back for extra effect.

The official photos were taken in the grounds before the chapel, and then the entire wedding party headed back to the hotel for the proper celebrations to begin.

* * *

The terraced roof of the hotel had been transformed. An abundance of balloons and beautiful flowers covered the entire perimeter, the Parthenon clear in the distance, but close enough that from certain aspects it felt as if you could reach out and touch it.

The day had turned into something magical.

All Alessandra could think was how much work and effort Christian had put into making this a special day for them. Sure, he’d outsourced it all, but he’d been the one to do the outsourcing.

All she’d done was buy her dress. And lingerie...

Crying in her brother’s arms had had the effect of clearing her head.

thing. He

baby did. Christian was

reapplied her make-up and then, when she’d looked back in the

life to Christian and their baby. It

their guests—it truly was a photographer’s dream here—she put

at him now—holding court with Zayed, Stefan and Stefan’s date, Clio, on the edge of the dance floor—her heart clenched, packing into a tight

him for he met her eyes,

her lemonade back, her skin dancing as if

Rocco refused to join them, keeping his distance in the far corner of the room with Olivia and an earnest A-list Hollywood superstar. Her brother had spelled

ulterior motive. But her fears had been wildly off the mark. He hadn’t gone to meet up with a secret woman. He’d gone in an attempt to

her brother in no uncertain terms that Alessandra needed

that