The Greek's Pregnant Bride

But the words went unsaid. If she thought for a second there was a chance that in the future his feelings could develop as hers had, she would say them.

What kind of idiot fell in love with a man incapable of returning it?

Had she been fool enough to hope his feelings would change as hers had? No, she hadn’t been stupid enough to think that. But still she’d fallen for him.

‘What do you think the press are going to say when they learn our marriage barely lasted two months?’ he asked, his voice cold and terse.

‘Let them think and write what they like. I have finally grown an immunity to them.’ Three months ago, the thought of them crucifying her for the whole of Italy’s delectation had made her want to vomit. Now...let them write what they liked. The fear she had felt of the press since she’d been seventeen had gone. She didn’t know when it had happened, only that it had.

She was an adult. She controlled her life, not the press.

‘And what about when our child grows up and reads about it?’ he snarled.

‘Then we will tell our child the truth. There’s been enough lies.’

were hard. ‘If you’re so determined to go, then go. Take the time to think. When you get back we can discuss this like rational adults and find a way to thrash

anything out will

to his feet and strolled past her and into the spare room. His room. He’d never wanted to share

to blind her, Alessandra scraped her hair into a tight ponytail, carried her suitcase into the living

Please, before my strength deserts me

and walked straight into a media

trapped between them and the door she had already

when is the

you feel about

the

even to think of a response or a way to escape. The door behind her flew open with such force she lost her footing. Were it not for the strong arms there to catch her, she would surely have fallen. As

on his heel and marched back through the swarm, parting it as if he were Moses and

* * *

himself