Page 35 of The Venetian One-Night Baby

‘You have no idea how much.’ Sabrina bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry about your vase...’

‘What vase?’

She pointed to the shattered pieces of porcelain strewn over the foyer behind them. ‘I bumped it when I was checking the security monitor. Please tell me it wasn’t valuable.’

‘Not as valuable as you,’ he said, and kissed her again.

‘Oh, look at you two gorgeous things.’ Gillian grabbed Sabrina’s mother’s arm to lead her inside Max’s house. ‘We need to celebrate. Let’s open some champagne.’

Sabrina gave him a what do we do now? look, but his expression remained calm. ‘They had to find out sooner or later,’ he said, sotto voce, and led her inside behind the older women.

Before she knew it, Max had efficiently cleaned up the pieces of the vase and Sabrina found herself sitting beside him on one of the sofas in the main sitting room. Her mother and Gillian were sitting opposite with glasses of champagne raised in a toast.

‘Why aren’t you drinking yours, Sabrina?’ her mother asked after everyone else had sipped theirs. Max had only taken a token sip, however.

Sabrina cradled her glass in her hands, her cheeks feeling so hot she could have stripped the paint off the walls. ‘Erm...’

‘Oh, my God!’ Gillian shot to her feet as if a spring in the sofa had jabbed her. ‘You’re pregnant?’

Max looked like he was the one suffering morning sickness. Sabrina’s mother Ellen looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Sabrina decided there was no point denying it. Besides, she wanted her mother to be one of the first to know and not find out some other way. ‘Yes, I am pregnant but only eight weeks. We’re not telling everyone until the twelve-week mark.’

There were hugs and kisses and hearty congratulations all round and finally, after promising they would only tell their husbands and Sabrina’s brothers about the pregnancy, the mothers left.

Max closed the door on their exit with a sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I forgot I told my mother to drop in sometime to see the completed renovations.’

Sabrina frowned. ‘But why did you have to tell them we’re getting married? Why not just say we’re having a fling or something? You know how I feel about this. Now they’ll be in full on wedding fever mode, telling everyone our business and—’

‘I was thinking about it while I was away,’ Max said. ‘Trying to keep our involvement a secret is going to cause you more stress than you need right now. I figured it was safer to get this out in the open. I didn’t realise my mother would twig about the pregnancy, though.’

Sabrina sank back into the sofa and hugged one of the scatter cushions, eyeing her untouched glass of champagne as if it had personally insulted her. ‘If I hadn’t broken that damn vase, trying to avoid them, we might still have kept our secret safe. Argh. I hate how out of control my life is right now.’

He hunkered down next to her and grazed his knuckles across her cheek, his eyes warm and tender. ‘It was going to come out sooner or later. And there’s no reason to think your pregnancy isn’t going to continue.’

‘Would you prefer it if I lost the baby?’

He flinched. ‘No. How can you ask that?’

She shrugged one shoulder and tossed the cushion to one side. ‘I’ve done a pretty good job of stuffing up your neatly controlled life.’

He straightened and then came to sit beside her on the sofa, his hand slipping under the curtain of her hair to the nape of her neck, his expression wry. ‘Maybe it needed shaking up a bit.’

Sabrina could feel every inch of her body responding to his touch. She placed her arms around his waist, loving the strength and warmth of his body so close to hers. She rested her head against his chest and sighed. ‘At least our families are happy for us.’

He lifted her face off his chest and meshed his gaze with hers. ‘It’s a good start.’

‘But what if we make each other miserable? I mean, further down the track?’

He brushed an imaginary hair away from her face. ‘We’re both mature adults. We can handle the odd difference of opinion, surely? Besides, I quite like arguing with you.’

A smile tugged at her mouth, a hot tide of longing pooling in her core. ‘Do you fancy a fight now?’

His eyes glinted. ‘Bring it on.’ And he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A FEW DAYS LATER, Sabrina had left the shop early, leaving Harriet in charge so she could get home to make a special dinner. They had been eating out mostly but she wanted to have a night at home for once. She suspected he took her out for dinner so often so she wouldn’t have to cook but she enjoyed cooking and wanted to do something for him for a change.

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