Confessions of a Pregnant Cinderella

Skye was about to blurt it out. She wanted to take his hand and put it on her belly. But suddenly she realised everyone was looking at her. It was too fragile and private a moment. And she didn’t think Lazaro would appreciate the dom

esticity of it.

She shook her head. ‘Bathroom. I just need to go to the bathroom.’

She needed a moment alone. To process this.

She threaded her way through the crowd, trying not to trip over her own feet as she did so, and at the last moment spied some open French doors, leading out to a quiet balcony.

She ducked outside. It was blissfully peaceful out here. Candles flickered, giving the flower-bedecked balcony a romantic vibe. They were on the top floor, and Skye could see the Eiffel Tower twinkling on the other side of the Seine. It was like a glittering bauble.

The distinctive skyline of Paris with its tall, elegant buildings stretched out all around her. She could see people moving about in their apartments nearby. Families sitting down to dinner. Babies in high-chairs. Couples snuggling up on sofas. A young girl sitting at her desk, obviously doing her homework.

For a moment she felt absurdly emotional. She didn’t need priceless jewels, as nice as they were. Or to mingle with A-listers, as exciting as that was. All she wanted was a simple existence like that. A secure base. A happy family. And yet, in spite of the heat between her and Lazaro—

She heard a noise behind her and her circling thoughts came to a stop. She composed herself, and turned to see a woman stepping out onto the balcony, looking as relieved as Skye to be alone. Then she saw Skye and stopped, her mouth opening. Both of them froze as recognition sank in.

‘You...’ Skye heard the word emerge from her mouth, recognising this stunning brunette beauty, in a classically simple and elegant dark blue gown that skimmed her perfect figure. Her hair was up in a simple chignon and she wore jewels as effortlessly as Skye wished she could.

Leonora Flores de la Vega—Leonora Torres—said in accentless English, ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise there was anyone here.’ She turned to leave.

Skye acted on impulse and said, ‘No. Please, don’t go.’

The tall woman stopped, and Skye saw the tension in her body. Her guts twisted painfully. Leonora turned around, her beautiful face expressionless. But Skye was sure she saw something in her grey eyes—something human. Kind.

She blurted out words before she lost her nerve. ‘I just wanted to say how sorry I am... I never intended on ruining your engagement like that. I just... I’d tried to get in touch with Lazaro but it was impossible. I sneaked into that room and I saw him... I had to let him know.’

For a long moment there was a tense silence, and then Leonora seemed to sag slightly. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I get that now. You met before he proposed to me.’

‘Yes!’ Relief flooded Skye. ‘I would have hated it if you’d been with him when...’

Leonora came closer. She gave a small smile. ‘No, that would not have been nice. But he would not have done that. These men...they have integrity at least.’

‘You mean Lazaro and...?’

‘Gabriel—my husband.’ Then she looked at Skye’s belly. ‘Congratulations. I wish you all the best in your future with Lazaro.’

Skye put a hand on her belly. ‘Thank you...’ She bit her lip, and then said impulsively, ‘I felt it move just now...a proper movement.’

Leonora seemed to go pale in the dim light.

Skye said, ‘I’m sorry—did I say something?’

The other woman seemed to collect herself and she smiled. ‘No, not at all. I really do wish you all the best in your future with Lazaro and the baby.’

She was turning away, and Skye reached out to take her hand. ‘I’m sorry again...and I wish you all the best too.’

Leonora squeezed her hand. To Skye’s surprise the other woman’s eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

She said, ‘Thank you.’ Then she let go and walked back inside, leaving Skye looking after her, feeling sad and relieved in equal measure.

Sad because she sensed that Leonora would be a nice person to get to know, possibly even a friend. And that was never going to happen.

* * *

‘Sanchez.’

Lazaro tensed. He’d been looking for Skye, and getting more and more irritated because he couldn’t find her.