Page 40 of His Secretly Pregnant Cinderella

“I’m ready to go,” he said. “The car is waiting.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t give me a time. You only said we were leaving this morning.”

“The time is now.”

“Can you turn around.”

He found himself doing so obediently, and he heard the rustle of fabric, and when he turned again, she was wearing a white dress that barely came to her knees. Her red hair was like a coppery halo around her, and her curves were...

It was a strange thing, to find a pregnant woman so attractive. He would not say he had ever noticed such a thing being appealing to him sexually before. But she was. A fertility goddess, and he thought there could be nothing more appropriate than having her like this.

She looked like sex to him. All rounded curves and feminine glory.

He gritted his teeth.

In name only.

“Let’s go.”

They got into the car, both sitting in the back. “What about my things...”

“Everything is been sent ahead to the villa in Greece. You do not need anything.”

“How convenient. Have you chosen my wedding dress as well?”

He looked at her. “Yes.”

And he knew that it would be resplendent on her. He had simply asked the designer—a woman world-renowned—to make a gown fit for a goddess. And he knew that she would.

“And what will the world think, with you marrying your brother’s girlfriend?”

“They will think what my parents think. That I am preserving Alex’s legacy.”

“Is it what you think?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“It has nothing to do with the fact that you want me?”

“I wanted you,” he said. “And I had you.”

He could see the way that landed. Like a slap across her face, and he knew a moment’s guilt for talking to her in such a manner.

She had been vulnerable and open when she had made love with him. And he could not accuse her of being manipulative in that way, not at all. She had simply... Wanted him. And had given herself to him with openness and sweetness. It had been the best sex of his life.

And he had told himself for a while it was because of the forbidden nature of it. He was not a man that indulged himself in the forbidden. Very few things were off-limits to him. He had money and power and women flung themselves his direction, and when he wished to do so he availed himself of their offerings. But Morgan had been off-limits. And that, he told himself, was why she was so delectable.

But he knew now it wasn’t that. It was her.

And trying to reduce the thing that had transpired between them to something past tense and tawdry was... It was small of him, and he was not a man given to smallness.

“Well,” she said. “How nice to be such an easy box on a checklist. Sex with Morgan. Done and dusted. Double check.”

She was pushing him. As if they were back in his parents’ study at one of their regular evenings, back before everything had fallen apart.

“I’ve no need to experience it again.”

“Then you won’t mind when I begin to take lovers of my own,” she said, as the car carried them quickly down the highway toward the airport.

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