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She hesitates, then turns to meet my gaze. "I think we should part ways."
I arch an eyebrow. I don’t want to say this but if it’s the only way to get her to stay then I’ll pull out every argument I can get my hands on. I’m not above playing dirty. “You’ve already benefitted from the contract. There’s enough buzz around the wedding in the media, your business has already benefitted from this. If you leave now it’s breach of contract.”
She pales. “You... you’re going to hold me to the contract now?”
“Especially now,” I lean in closer until my lips almost brush her’s, "Considering you may already be pregnant with my child."Not to mention the fact that I can’t even contemplate the thought of letting you go.
34
Isla
My jaw drops. Holy shit, I hadn’t thought of that. He came inside me. I knew it in the heat of the moment, felt his dick throb as he emptied himself inside of me. The ramifications of it, though, are something that only sinks in now. A tremor runs up my spine. I could be pregnant with his child. With a little Liam or a little Isla emerging into this world nine months from now. I try to speak, but my throat closes. Try to breathe, but my lungs burn. My chest rises and falls. My pulse rate shoots up. My skin feels too tight for my body. Sweat trickles down my spine. Clearly, I’m having some kind of a meltdown.
"LadyBird." He pulls his hand out from under my skirt and wraps it about my shoulder instead. "Breathe, baby, breathe."
“Like this…” He draws in a breath. "In." He exhales. "Out. Breathe with me, baby. In…" He inhales, and I follow his example, not taking my gaze off of his face. "Out." He breathes out through his nose, and so do I. Again. I breathe in and out slowly. Feel my heart rate stabilize.
"Good." He rises to his feet and pushes me onto the chair. He stabs his finger at me. "Stay there."
A chuckle wells up, but it sounds more like a sob. I lower my chin to my chest and close my eyes.Focus on your breathing. Get yourself under control.
You’ve calmed down frantic bridezillas, and soothed the tempers of mothers-of-the-bride.Why, I even jumped into the dress of a bridesmaid who failed to turn up at the last minute. And then there was the time the bridegroom was caught with the father-of-the-bride—don’t ask. I announced to the assembled guests that the wedding was off and invited them to the reception so they could drink and dance and have a blast. Strangely, it’d worked. The bride and groom had joined in too, getting drunk enough to decide they hadn’t been made for each other in the first place.
My pulse rate finally evens out. My stomach stops that bottoming out effect it has been replicated over and over again. Thank God. The last thing I want is to be sick. And no, I can’t think about being pregnant. It was just once that his sperm was pumped into my vagina, and I can’t be pregnant from that, can I? It only takes one stupid, highly mobile, very focused sperm. A sperm with all the hallmarks of its donor, Mr. A-hole-who’s-bent-on-having-his-way-with-me.
"Here." He materializes next to me and hands me a glass of orange juice.
"I think you need the sugar more. You’re the one who’s lost blood."
"Drink, Isla," he growls.
I drink. I empty the glass, then place it on the flat surface with a snap.
"More?"
I nod.
He fills it up.
I take a few more sips, then toy with the glass. "You said that if... When I get pregnant, we’ll co-parent."
"If we were together, we’d be real parents,” he counters.
"I’m not sure I want that."
He keeps his gaze on my face, but like the coward I am, I don’t look in his direction.
"You’re running scared," he remarks.
"I’m here, aren’t I?"
"But you want to leave."
"This… impromptu honeymoon is not working out for me, Liam." I finally look him in the eye. "Believe me, this is the only way. We can’t be together."
"So why did you agree to the fake marriage in the first place?"
"Because I thought I’d do anything to keep my business and grow it to the heights I’ve always dreamed of."
