Confessions of a Pregnant Cinderella (Rival Spanish Brothers 1)

‘Oh.’

He looked at her. ‘You say that a lot.’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes. You do.’

‘Well, if it’s annoying you I can always leave.’

The thought was immensely appealing—to get away from this man’s far too disturbing orbit.

He shook his head. ‘Oh, no, you don’t get to walk away so easily.’ He looked at his watch as he stood up. ‘We have an appointment with my doctor in an hour—we’ll leave in forty minutes. I’ll be in my study till then, making some calls. Finish your breakfast.’

Skye watched him walk around the table. ‘Are you always so bossy?’

He didn’t stop, nor did he look at her. ‘Always. Be ready to go in forty minutes.’

Skye breathed out when he’d left the room, her insides unknotting marginally. His scent lingered, musky and masculine. She marvelled to recall how charming he’d been when she’d first met him. Presenting a far more benign façade to the world.

To a woman he’d wanted.

Right now Skye wondered if she’d ever see that charming side of him again. It seemed not very likely at all.

* * *

‘Well, Ms O’Hara, I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant.’

Skye sent a look across the doctor’s office to Lazaro, who was staring straight ahead.

She answered the doctor. ‘Thank you.’

‘And I called your own doctor, who has confirmed that the three-month scan shows that everything is progressing normally.’

Lazaro interjected. ‘She was sick this morning...it was pretty intense.’

The doctor glanced at Skye, who shook her head. ‘It was fine. Just the usual morning sickness.’

‘Which should hopefully dissipate now, as you go into your second trimester.’

‘Yes, that’s what I’ve been told,’ Skye said, not sure whether to be heartened or annoyed by Lazaro’s concern about her morning sickness.

She could imagine that it might look scary, and no doubt he wasn’t used to seeing the women he consorted with display such basic bodily functions in front of him. The thought almost made her smile. Almost.

They were wrapping up the appointment when the doctor said, ‘I’ll have my secretary book you in for a scan when you’re about twenty weeks along.’

Skye opened her mouth, about to tell the doctor that she wouldn’t be here then, but Lazaro spoke before she could.

He said, ‘I’ll have my assistant set up the appointment, but thank you.’

They were in the back of Lazaro’s chauffeur-driven car before Skye could round on him. ‘You shouldn’t have let that doctor think I’ll still be here when I’m five months pregnant. There are perfectly good doctors in Dublin.’

Lazaro was looking at his phone. He said, ‘What’s your address again?’

Skye reeled it off, not sure why he wanted to know.

After a few seconds he handed her the phone. She could see an image of her street, and the building her apartment was in. She winced. It didn’t look good. The houses on either side were boarded up, and there was a huddle of young guys near the steps down to her flat. It looked as if a package was being passed from one guy to the other. Not to mention the piles of dumped rubbish.

‘This is where you live?’