Confessions of a Pregnant Cinderella
‘I apologised to her. She was fine about it. Really fine, considering. She’s nice. I liked her.’ Skye sounded almost defensive.
‘She is nice. Too nice for Gabriel Torres.’
* * *
Skye tried not to let Lazaro’s obvious regard for the other woman get to her. It was stupid to feel jealous. Nothing had ever happened between them. And yet...
Skye knew that if she hadn’t fallen pregnant it would have been Leonora sitting in the back of this car. Not her.
Then he said, ‘I showed your idea for the logo to my team today. They really liked it. If we use it I’ll make sure you’re paid.’
A rush of pleasure made Skye blush. ‘That’s not necessary, really. I enjoyed doing it.’
‘You’re very talented, you know.’
Skye shrugged, embarrassed. ‘I would have loved to go to art college, but it was never really a possibility.’
The car pulled to a stop outside the hotel and Lazaro came around to help Skye out. For the first time she was starting to feel slightly unwieldy. Aware of her protruding belly.
That reminded her... When they were back in the suite she vacillated for a moment before saying, ‘I felt the baby move earlier...’
Lazaro stopped and turned around. She put her hand on the bump. ‘It’s stopped now. But it’s the first time I’ve really felt it.’
* * *
Lazaro felt the strangest urge to go over and kneel down at Skye’s feet, spread his hands across her belly. The thought of his baby moving...making its presence known... It was unfathomable and deeply moving. Because he couldn’t help but think of his own mother, who would have felt similar sensations.
Would she have had the same look of wonder on her face that Skye had now? Or had she been hidden away out of sight until the baby was born and she could get rid of him? Why had she even put herself through the pregnancy?
As if reading his mind, Skye said, ‘I know this must bring up a lot of stuff for you...?
??
Suddenly Lazaro was aware that he wanted only one thing. To eclipse these disturbing thoughts and revelations in the most effective way he knew how.
He walked over to Skye, taking off his jacket as he did so, throwing it over a chair.
He put his hands on Skye’s waist, pulling her towards him. ‘Do you know the only thing I’m really interested in discussing right now?’
‘Lazaro—’
He cut her off. ‘The fact that from the moment I saw you in this dress I wanted to take it off you.’
The clutch bag dropped out of Skye’s hands to the floor, unnoticed as Lazaro pulled her even closer—close enough to feel the press of his arousal against her soft curves. One of which held his growing baby.
He was vaguely aware of the distant sound of his cell-phone ringing, but that was easy to ignore when his hands were on Skye and all he could see and smell was her.
* * *
A sense of futility rose up inside Skye in the face of Lazaro’s blatant distraction technique. But also, like him, she felt a desire not to rock the boat unnecessarily. Not while this heat burnt so bright between them. This was the one pure place where Skye felt endless possibilities existed. It was when he wasn’t touching her, kissing her, that reality reminded her of its existence. And, right now, if he wanted to avoid that she would too.
Coward, whispered an inner voice.
But it was easy to ignore, because Lazaro was kissing her and nothing else mattered.
* * *
The following morning, as dawn broke over Paris, Lazaro lay awake. Skye was draped over his chest, her breasts pressed against him, one leg hitched up over his thigh, close enough to the centre of his body to cause pleasurable discomfort when his body reacted predictably to her proximity.