Page 39 of Forbidden Vows

“Enough about that spoiled, entitled brat your father took in,” Anton cuts me off, then pulls me into his arms. “What happened that night was all about us. What we wanted.”

“But me getting knocked up was—”

“A gift from the gods. It still is,” he says. His hand comes up to gently cup my cheek, and there is so much tenderness andwanting in his touch that I can feel my defenses crumbling. “Eileen, not a day has gone by that you haven’t been on my mind. Stuck right here, beating loudly,” he lightly pounds his fist against his chest. “You’re carrying my child.”

“That was a mistake, an accident.”

He laughs. “It’s amazing that you can say that with a straight face. I guess I’m going to have to prove a few things to get you to stop believing that you were cattle sold to the highest bidder.”

“It’s how I feel,” I say, lowering my gaze. “I didn’t plan it. You certainly didn’t have it on your agenda either.”

“Eileen, no matter how this came to be, a child is a miracle that we get to have in our lives,” he says, warmth exuding from his voice. “It only makes me want this more, beyond any strategic benefits I may have noted earlier. Frankly, even those were just really good excuses. I want this child, and I want you.”

“You do?”

“I need you to understand that no matter what happens, you and the little one are under my care, my protection.”

“I just want this baby to be loved.”

“You needn’t worry about that, Eileen. This baby is the luckiest kid in the world. He’s got you, and he’s got me. I may come across as the big bad wolf to you sometimes, but I am ready and eager to be a loving father.”

For a moment, I actually believe him. I want to believe him.

“I know you’re trying to reassure me, but this entire situation is such a mess.” He gently brings up a finger to shush me.

“Ciara will be just fine, and you are going to be great. I told you, no matter what happens, you are my family now, and I will do anything and everything to protect you. Do you hear me?”

“I—”

“Do you hear me, Eileen?”

A strange sense of comfort comes over me, compelling me to give him a soft nod.

He kisses me. Firmly. Decisively. My reason, my logic—poof—out the window.

My body takes over. The blood rushes to my head as everything I’ve been holding in comes out in sizzling waves. The desire, the longing, the secret wishes. It all pours out of me as I devour his lips, and he devours mine.

“You stubborn, annoyingly proud woman,” Anton growls, then nibbles on my lower lip before his tongue slips through and eagerly wrestles mine.

“Anton,” I whisper against his lips, tasting the whiskey and the hunger burning inside him.

His hands move up and down, feeling my curves through the layers of white satin and tulle. His fingers dig in, feverishly squeezing everything in his path. Our hips meet, and I feel him nestled against my lower body, hard as a rock, before he finds the delicate laces at the back of my dress.

He removes it with remarkable speed and swiftness.

“Look into my eyes,” Anton commands me.

Shyly, I meet his gaze. “I’m looking.”

“Tell me I didn’t want this.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

My lips tremble as I stand before him in nothing more than my white lace bra and panties. He gingerly removes the veil and the tiara from the top of my head, followed by the pins holding my hair in place.

I haven’t felt like this since the last time we were together. Like a woman.

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