The Billionaire's Forgotten Fiancée

Vanessa stood up, ready to go back to Shane’s room. “You’d really do that for me?”

“That’s the least of what I’d do for you.” Rising to his feet, Justin kissed her gently. “Now, can I get you to wear some sensible shoes? Those heels look great, but they also make me nervous with you pregnant and tottering around like that.”

She scoffed. “Tottering? Whatever. I can still outrun you, four months pregnant and in heels.”

He bent and swept her up off the floor, eliciting an eek! He kissed her on the mouth and started carrying her toward Shane’s room. “Go ahead and try.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ginger stepped inside the private room. It was big, more like a luxury hotel than a hospital, with a TV and a game console, and its own private bathroom. There were a few vases and pots of flowers to liven things up.

Still, like other hospital rooms, it had only one visitor’s chair.

Shane was in the middle of the bed. There was a huge bruise on his right temple, its darkness stark against his unusually pale complexion. His eyes were closed, and a needle was stuck into his lean forearm. Machines next to him beeped and pinged, monitoring and recording his vitals. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked this awful. All their time together, he’d always been the pillar of strength and incredible health.

How badly had he been hurt?

“Vanessa?” he rasped, opening his eyes. Then he stilled as his gaze focused. “Ginger.”

“Hi.” She swallowed and approached him. “I heard you came by.”

His face softened for a moment like the time he’d proposed to her. Then he looked away.

She wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her shorts. “Um. How are you feeling?”

“Like a jackass.” When he faced her again, his eyes were no longer soft. They glinted like a naked blade. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you hurt yourself. I’m sorry. Debbie didn’t mean to, and—”

“If you’re worried about your friend, don’t. I never mentioned her or you.” His jaw clenched. “How long were you going to hide it from me?”

Her lower lip trembled. “I…” She brought her unsteady hands together. Fresh sweat slickened her palms. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Didn’t you think I should’ve been told? It was my child too.”

“It’s been almost a year. What could change by telling you? It would’ve only hurt you.”

“You should’ve wanted to hurt me!” He hurled one of the vases at the wall facing her.

The delicate crystal shattered, the bouquet of bright red roses exploding. Ginger cried out.

“If you didn’t want me to comfort you, you should’ve at least wanted to hurt me just as much as I hurt you!” Veins stood out in his forehead.

“You didn’t remember.”

“But you didn’t know at that time, did you? You thought I’d betrayed you.”

The door to the room opened, and Iain rushed in. “Are you okay?” he said, then saw Ginger and Shane and the broken vase and scattered flowers.

“Get out!” Shane said. “Get out and don’t let anybody come in until we’re done!”

Iain nodded once and left, closing the door behind him.

Shane drew in a shuddering breath. “You didn’t even say you were pregnant when you came to see me in Johannesburg. Did you think I was a monster?”

“I was in shock,” she said, her voice shaking. “I couldn’t even speak once I realized you were with another woman. All I could think was that it was over. I regained some o

f my composure back at my hotel, but by then it was too late. I didn’t think you’d open the door again. And it wasn’t like a woman needs to be married to have a child, right? I thought I’d raise it on my own and let you and your family know later. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t even want child support.”