Falling for the Rebel Princess by Ellie Darkins

Author:Ellie Darkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHARLIE KEPT WALKING, calm and controlled, past the four-poster bed, trying to cover the typhoon of emotions roiling through her. She stopped when she reached the bathroom, an island of cool white marble after the richness of the bedroom.

‘What are you talking about, Joe?’

Her teeth were practically grinding against one another, and she didn’t seem to be able to unclench her fists.

‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’ His voice faded towards the end of the sentence, as if he were already regretting asking. But she didn’t care about that, because the grief and pain that she had been holding at bay all night, seeing her sister’s happiness with her children, her easy contentment, broke through the dam and flooded her. Winded, as if she’d been punched in the gut, she turned. She retched into the sink, as a week of new pain caught up with her. This had been building since she’d seen the newspaper headline announcing her own imminent engagement. She’d held it at bay, distracted herself with her stupid Vegas wedding and then burying herself in her work. But with Joe’s crazy, heartless words—his absolutely baseless accusation—the pain had gripped her and wouldn’t let her go.

Joe caught up with her and leaned against the bathroom door frame as she retched, hoping that she wasn’t going to get a second look at her dinner.

‘Are you okay?’

She threw him the dirtiest look that she could muster before hanging her head over the sink.

‘Is it morning sickness?’

It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to howl like a dog and collapse in a heap on the floor. Instead she forced herself upright, regaining control over her body.

‘I. Am. Not. Pregnant.’

She forced the words out as evenly as she could, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how he was hurting her, driving the knife deeper and twisting it with everything that he said.

‘Are you sure? Because—’

She broke.

‘I’m infertile, Joe. Is that sure enough for you?’

Her spine sagged and her legs turned to jelly as she spoke the words that she’d buried for so many years. She didn’t even put out her hands to break her fall. There was no point—what could hurt more than this?

But instead of hitting cold marble, she landed on soft cotton, hard muscle. Joe’s arms surrounded her, and her vision was clouded by snowy white shirt. She pushed away, not wanting him here, wanting no witnesses to her despair. But his arms were clamped around her, his lips were on her temple and his voice was soft in her ear.

‘God, Charlie, I’m so sorry. I never would have said that if...I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’

More murmurs followed, but she’d stopped listening. The tears had arrived. The ones that she’d kept at bay since she was a teenager. That she’d forced down somewhere deep inside her.

They tipped off the mascaraed ends of her lashes, streaking her cheeks, painting tracks down Joe’s shirt as he held her tight and refused to let go, even as she struggled against him.

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