Bound by the Billionaire's Baby

She barely slept at all, woke the following morning far later than she had planned, and then spent the remainder of the morning rushing around, trying to do clever things with her hair, looking at the clock, and frantically wrapping the present she had bought in paper she had designed herself but unfortunately not in quite the right size, so that she had to camouflage the gap with ordinary brown paper and very wide ribbon.

In between all of this she kept stopping in front of the mirror, gazing at her still flat stomach and wondering what was going on inside.

The wedding ceremony kicked off at three, at the small church in the village where her aunt and uncle lived. It was the sort of picture-postcard-perfect place that only the super-rich could afford. No one would ever guess that it was a thriving commuter hub for many of those top businessmen who had to get into the City, where they could earn sufficient money to install their families in the rolling mansions and quaint cottages that dotted that part of Berkshire.

As a child, she and Alex had always enjoyed making the trip down to see Clarissa. Their own parents, Louise and Robert Sadler, had lived further north, and being close to London had seemed like a grand adventure whenever they had ventured south.

Clarissa and her husband-to-be, Thomas, at twenty-two and twenty-eight respectively, were good candidates for the Berkshire lifestyle. He was an up-and-coming barrister and she was destined to be the perfect stay-at-home wife.

On the way out of her flat Susie paused to look at her reflection in the mirror again and thought to herself that Clarissa might have beaten both she and Alex up the aisle, much to her mother’s dismay, but she would be the first to deliver a grandchild.

Even if, she thought with a grimace, the standing ovation might be a little muted.

She had planned on taking the train and then a taxi to the church, but on the spur of the moment she threw parsimony to the winds and decided on a taxi for the entire trip.

It meant dipping into the trust fund which she had always refused to touch, because it was there for when she decided to find somewhere to buy, but she honestly couldn’t face the hassle of the train station in her wedding outfit.

Not when her thoughts were all over the place. Not when she felt sick with tension at the unexpected future in front of her. Definitely not when she thought of Sergio and the way he had casually dismissed her.

Outside, it was the perfect day for an early spring wedding. The skies were blue and cloudless, and the air was crisp rather than cold. Coats were needed, but thin ones, and there was no mud anywhere for delicate high heels to subside into.

Clarissa would be thrilled to bits. She had always had an uncanny ability to make people and things in general fall in line with what she wanted, and lo and behold the weather was being obedient.

Susie grinned, relaxing as she was driven to the church and only tensing once more when she was deposited outside, to join the two-hundred-strong throng of people piled in front.

Immediately her parents descended, followed by her sister, and for the next two hours there was blessed reprieve from her thoughts.

With all the romance in her soul she was tearful during the ceremony, and proud as punch at the stunning picture her cousin made in her meringue of a wedding dress, befitting a girl who had spent the first eight years of her life believing that she was a fairy princess.

There were hundreds of photos outside the church, and then the bride and groom left for Clarissa’s parents’ house in a white Bentley. Everyone else made their way the five miles or so in assorted cars.

Susie, sandwiched between her mother and her sister, half listened to Alex telling them about her new promotion, which would see her in line to become the youngest ever neurosurgeon at one of the leading hospitals in London. When there was eventually a lull in the conversation she half-heartedly told them that she was finally beginning to see some light in trying to track down clients for her illustrations.

At least her mother had steered clear of talking about guys so far.

‘Susannah, darling, what’s happening on the man front with you? I thought you might have surprised us by bringing a nice young man with you to the wedding...’

‘Er...they’re thin on the ground, Mother...all getting snapped up by beauty queens like Clarissa...’