Page 21 of His Secretly Pregnant Cinderella

“Morgan,” he said. “Open the door.”

“You must have the wrong unit.”

“We both know I don’t.”

“No, we don’t know that.”

Frustration rocked through his veins, but still, he could not hate her. “We do.”

He did not know why she was bothering with the pretense. He was a fool. But there was something so absurdly stubborn about this attempt at a charade, that he... Why was it always like this with her? Why could he never really quite hate her?

He had met her and they’d sparked off each other instantly.

“A bartender?”

“A waitress,” she’d said. “At a bar. It is different.”

“I imagine one makes it easier to meet rich men?”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“Yes. Dating my brother for his money.”

“I’ve only known you for a few minutes, but perhaps that is why women date you. Alex has a personality.”

He’d grudgingly respected her then, even if he hadn’t liked her being with his brother. But then, the real issue had been that he’d wanted her. From that moment.

“Maybe if you had your own dates at family functions you wouldn’t be so concerned about me, Constantine.”

“I don’t date, Morgan.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d taken vows of celibacy.”

His lips had curved and he’d had the strongest desire to see if he could make her blush. If he could prove what he suspected. That she always ended up talking to him when she came to his parents’ home because she couldn’t stay away. Because of the heat between them.

“I never said I was celibate. I don’t have to play games. Women don’t come to me for dinner dates. They simply come for dessert.”

“And the witty banter I assume,” she’d said, but her voice had sounded tight.

“No, it’s for the orgasms.”

And he’d realized in that moment he’d overstepped because the air between them had become thick, and the spark had been palpable. And knowing? It had fixed nothing.

Even now he should hate her. He should be angry at her. For concealing this from his family. And he was. He was angry about a lot of things.

But there were moments where she glimmered, even behind a scratched up old door, and that was the thing about Morgan that made everything difficult.

“I’m not going to leave,” he said. “I can tell you I could break down this door in a matter of seconds, and I don’t think that anyone would help you. This apartment is appalling.”

“It is actually very nice for this area and reasonably priced.”

“How nice for it. But it is not secure enough to keep you safe.”

“You aren’t going to do anything to me, Constantine.”

“Funny how you suddenly speak English. And know who I am.”

The door suddenly cracked open. “What do you want?”

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