Confessions of a Pregnant Cinderella

She turned around quickly and went to stand at the window, wrapping her arms around herself. She hated it that he could get to her like this. Tap into her deepest insecurities and fears with such ease. Because she’d let him in.

* * *

A couple of hours later Lazaro stood in the middle of a vast ballroom, surrounded by the most important and wealthy people in Europe. A man was talking to him, but he was only half taking in what he said.

His tuxedo felt shrink-wrapped to his body. He wanted to undo his bow-tie. He looked around and his heart stopped beating when he glimpsed red hair. A thousand things ran through his mind—chief of which was, Why the hell has she come? He’d told her she didn’t need to be here. And yet he couldn’t deny the sense of something lightening inside him.

It was only when he was within touching distance that he realised it wasn’t her. The woman had turned around. She was too tal

l, for a start. Too angular. No curves. Brown eyes. And her hair was clearly not her natural colour.

Nevertheless she was a strikingly beautiful woman, and Lazaro saw her instant recognition register and how her eyes immediately became covetous.

She moved towards him, seizing on his interest. Lazaro backed away, muttering something about mistaken identity.

A very uncomfortable revelation hit him then. Not bringing Skye was actually more distracting than if he had brought her.

* * *

‘You can see here, Señora Sanchez, that the state-of-the-art security system has cameras all over and around the property.’

Skye smiled politely, while privately thinking that this house felt more like a prison than a home. They were in the security room of the house and it felt disturbingly like the set of a sci-fi movie.

‘It’s...er...certainly well-protected.’

The officious young man nodded. ‘Oh, yes, our clients value security above almost anything else these days.’

They were walking out through the vast entrance hall when the estate agent said, ‘We have two more properties in this area. Would you like to see them today?’

Skye knew she should say yes—after all this was important. But she couldn’t stomach viewing another massive, architecturally designed glass box, set in a lush private paradise with not another building in sight.

She declined politely and agreed to call him and set up another appointment in a couple of days.

On their way back to Lazaro’s apartment they passed by a big green space. Skye leant forward and asked the driver in Spanish what it was. He told her it was El Retiro Park. She asked if they could stop so she could take a look.

It was beautiful—a nineteenth-century park, bordered by tall, elegant buildings. There was a large lake, dotted with boats filled with couples and families, and a stunning glass palace.

Skye sat on a bench and drank it in. She had to face up to reality. She was here on her own because Lazaro didn’t care enough about their future together to invest time in looking at houses with her. Because he didn’t intend sharing the space. That was why he was keeping his apartment.

He hadn’t needed her to go to his function the previous evening. Gradually she would be more and more sidelined, until she was on the periphery of his life with their child.

And yet there was a tiny rebellious flame inside her, hoping against hope that a future could exist for them.

At that moment something blocked the sun and Skye looked to her left. All she could see was a tall, broad shape. A man coming towards her. Wide shoulders. Long legs. A flash of dark blond hair. Slightly too long.

Her heart started to beat fast. Lazaro. He’d come. He did care.

The exultant rush of euphoria inside Skye was almost overwhelming. She was halfway out of the seat before she realised that it wasn’t Lazaro at all. It was just someone who had a similar build. He wasn’t even as tall. Or as handsome.

She sat down again quickly, her heart plummeting like a stone to the bottom of a pond. Her face burned with mortification as she avoided the eye of the man who looked at her questioningly.

If she hadn’t been fully aware of it before that little incident, she was now. She was in deep trouble.

* * *

In the week leading up to the public bid for the market project Skye hardly saw Lazaro. Her sense of unease was growing even as she told herself she was being ridiculous. This was a big project. And they weren’t exactly living in a conventional domestic relationship anyway.

On Wednesday evening she was falling asleep, watching a documentary, when she heard him come home. She turned off the TV and stood up. He came into the living room, tugging at his tie. He looked tired and Skye felt a rush of emotion.