Carrying Her Millionaire's Baby

by Sophie Pembroke

  ‘I did say that,’ Ash admitted. ‘Because I am an idiot.’

  ‘I couldn’t steal the future Grace was meant to have and lost,’ Zoey went on, ignoring him. Then his words caught up with her. ‘What?’

  Ash moved across from her so his gaze could meet hers. He stared deep into her eyes, as if he was searching for the truth behind her words. Zoey made herself hold his gaze and let him look.

  After all, her truths were already lying between them.

  ‘Did you mean what you said? At the registry office?’ he asked.

  ‘Which part?’

  ‘The part where you’re in love with me?’

  Zoey looked away. ‘A bit. Sorry.’

  Ash laughed, a low, husky chuckle. ‘Love, don’t be sorry. Hearing those words from you woke me up.’

  Zoey blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘You made me realise how much I’d given up on. I’d tried to move forward, replacing what I’d lost—but I hadn’t ever opened myself up fully to the future. I hadn’t given myself the chance of finding something new. A different future for me—and for you.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Then I realised that all your previous fiancés had something in common,’ Ash went on, adding to her confusion.

  ‘Yes. I ran out on them. Every time,’ Zoey pointed out.

  ‘With good reason.’ Ash shuddered. ‘I am so glad you didn’t marry any of them. Not least because it would make it much harder for you to marry me.’

  ‘I thought we agreed we weren’t doing that?’

  ‘I’m hoping what I’m about to say will change your mind,’ Ash replied.

  ‘You’re talking about my ex-boyfriends,’ Zoey said. ‘I’m not really sure this is going to work.’

  ‘Give me a chance.’ Ash smiled—an honest, open, happy smile—and Zoey tried to remember the last time she’d seen that. When she was naked, probably.

  ‘Okay.’ Was that hope, tingling low in her belly?

  ‘The point was, I realised that they all let you go. None of them followed you, tried to find out what you wanted and give it to you. So that’s what I want to do now.’

  The hope died. ‘Ash, I told you what I need from a marriage and you can’t give it to me.’

  ‘You want love,’ Ash replied. ‘And the thing is... I always knew I loved you—you were Zoey, part of my family, of course I loved you.’

  ‘Like a friend. Or a sister,’ Zoey said glumly. ‘That’s not what I mean.’

  ‘Yes. Except...not at all. Not even a little bit, it turns out.’ Ash grabbed her hands and made her look at him again, and she saw something burning, deep in his eyes. Something she’d never even let herself look for before, or hope for.

  ‘Ash?’ she asked softly. She needed to hear the words.

  ‘When you walked out on me, I realised I was so in love with you I couldn’t think straight.’

  * * *

  It felt so good to have said it. To have the knowledge out there in the world, not stuck inside his head. And the warm glow of cautious happiness that Zoey was emitting at hearing it made every bit of the last couple of days worthwhile.

  ‘I spent so long looking back at what I’d lost, I think I forgot how to look forward,’ he whispered. ‘But you showed me how again. And when you left I knew that I had to let go of the past and build a new future. I hope, with you.’

  Reaching out, Ash pulled Zoey towards him, tracing a hand across her cheek to the back of her neck as he kissed her—gently but deeply, and hopefully full of all the words he still had to say to her.

  She kissed him back, warm and loving, and Ash was filled with a sense of incredible good fortune. How could he be so lucky as to have found love like this not once, but twice?

  A small part of him even wondered if this could be Grace’s doing, matchmaking from the afterlife. He wouldn’t put it past her. She always wanted her loved ones to be happy, more than anything.

  Eventually, they broke the kiss. Ash rested his forehead against Zoey’s and smiled down at her.

  ‘So. Do you think I stand a better chance of convincing you to marry me now?’ he asked.

  Suddenly, Zoey’s happy glow faded and she pulled away. ‘Ash...’

  ‘No.’ He grabbed her hand and held it tight. ‘No running, remember?’

  She gave him a weak smile. ‘I’m not sure I could if I wanted to. Give me another couple of months and I’ll be hard pressed to even waddle away from you.’

  And he couldn’t wait to see it. To see her, heavy and blooming with his child. To know that they would be a family, just like they’d both always wanted.

  But first he needed to figure out what the rest of her reservations were, and fix them. Quickly.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he told her. ‘Even green and vomiting, and definitely when you’re nine months pregnant with my child. I promise you, I won’t be able to get enough of you, even then.’

  She gave him a disbelieving look. Maybe the bit about the vomit had been a little over the top.

  ‘Zoey, tell me. What’s the matter?’

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she chewed it, obviously weighing up her words. Her gaze didn’t leave his, though, which he loved. He might not be able to read her thoughts, but he could see her emotions, passing behind her eyes.

  She was still scared. He hated that she was scared of a future with him.

  Ash knew better than anyone that the future could be a terrifying and unpredictable place. But he couldn’t let that stop him hoping for better. He knew that now.

  He hoped she did.

  ‘I can’t shake the feeling that I’m stealing Grace’s place,’ she admitted. ‘Or that you’re going to wake up one day next to me, and realise you’re still wishing I was someone else. That I’ll never be enough to replace her.’

  ‘You’re not replacing her. You couldn’t.’ He said it softly, but he saw the way his words made her flinch, all the same. ‘Zo, do you think I haven’t been thinking about Grace too? I do, every day. And I’m not going to stop—the same way you won’t. But she’s gone. She’s been gone a long time now, and I know that we can’t live our lives in a limbo, waiting in case of a miracle that won’t come.’

  ‘I know that too,’ Zoey muttered, but she wasn’t looking at him again now.

  Ash tucked a finger under her chin and nudged her head up so she had to meet his eyes.

  ‘Here’s what I’ve realised,’ he said. ‘Grace will always be my first love. But that doesn’t make my love for you any less. I love you, Zoey.’

  Were those tears in her eyes? He hated to make her cry, but he needed to say this. And he had a feeling she needed to hear it.

  ‘I’m not the same man I was when I married Grace. I’m not even the same man I was when she died. Two years of grief change a man. But, more than that, you changed me. Not just in one night here on this island, or even the months since. Before all of that, your love and care and kindness changed me. Every time you picked me up off the floor from a drunken, grief-filled stupor. Every time you sat all night with me and shared memories of Grace. Every time you called to check in, or texted a joke to make me laugh. You changed me, Zoey. Until I knew that if something happened in my life, you were the person I wanted to tell. Until you were the person I wanted to see last thing at night and first thing in the morning. Until you were the person whose opinion mattered, whose feelings counted most, who I’d drop everything and sail into a storm for.

  ‘I might not have known that I loved you before this week. But, looking back, I can see my love for you—and yours for me—stretching back. The type of love it is changed that night on this island, when we realised how much we wanted each other too. But that wasn’t where it started. That’s only the latest part of it.’

  ‘And now we have a whole new love story to tell.’ Zoey placed his hand
against her belly, where his child grew, and Ash thought his heart might explode from the rightness of it all.

  ‘Yours might not have been the love I chose first, Zoey, but I promise you it’ll be the last love I ever need. And I’ll keep choosing you, and our family, day after day, for the rest of my life. If you’ll let me.’

  He could see her blinking away tears as she replied, ‘Of course I will. You’re my happily-ever-after.’

  Ash smiled. ‘I hope so. But, right now, our story is only just beginning.’

  EPILOGUE

  THE BEACH WAS packed with friends and family. At least she wasn’t naked on it this time. Zoey winced, sparing a thought for the poor guys who’d rescued them off this very same island eighteen months ago, after the storm, when she’d waved her dress over her head as she ran towards them naked. Ash didn’t seem to think they’d minded all that much, though.

  When she’d asked Ash why he’d insisted on buying the villa—and the island—back from the company for his own personal use, he’d told her it was their place. Where it had all started, for real. And he couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.

  But they were, this weekend at least. Of course, after the ceremony and the reception, Ash had laid on boats to take everyone away again to neighbouring island hotels, so they could spend their wedding night in peace, in their place.

  Ash had flown all their guests out on the company plane, and somehow nobody had objected to attending yet another of her weddings, this time. Zoey imagined it was because of what they could see when they looked at Ash and her together, especially with little baby Charlie there with them too.

  It was the same thing Zoey felt every time the three of them were together—which was as much of the time as possible.

  Happiness.

  True, happily-ever-after happiness.

  It felt funny to think that after all those years chasing the perfect future, the ideal husband, she’d almost run away from the real thing when she’d found him.

  Zoey smiled to herself. Maybe the reason it had all worked out was that Ash was the first one to actually chase her.

  ‘So. Still want to do this?’ Ash came up behind her, wrapping his arms around the waist of her bright pink wedding dress and holding her close.

  ‘Where’s Charlie?’ she asked.

  ‘Playing with his grandpa. He’s having a great time,’ Ash assured her. ‘And I told Dad not to let him eat any more sand, so we’re probably fine.’

  Zoey wasn’t entirely sure how thrilled Arthur would be about playing babysitter instead of enjoying the free bar, but it was true that Charlie adored his grandpa—and his grandpa loved him too. Maybe even more than Carmichael Luxury Travel, much to everyone’s amazement.

  ‘I ask you again. Are you sure you want to go through with it this time? Marrying me, I mean.’

  Zoey twisted around in his arms and smiled up at him. ‘Is that why you wanted us to stay here together last night? In case I decided to run again?’

  Ash shook his head. ‘No. I wanted to stay here with you because I can’t bear to be apart from you. And if you want to run, I’d run with you, if you’d let me.’

  ‘And if I wouldn’t?’

  ‘Then I’d let you go. Reluctantly, because it would break my heart. But seriously, Zo.’ He looked down at her, all laughter gone from his eyes. ‘If you need to run, just tell me.’

  Oh, but she loved him. So much.

  ‘Ash, you and Charlie, you’re my home. My future.’ She placed a hand against his cheek. ‘Where on earth could I run to without leaving my heart behind? There is nowhere in the world I would rather be right now than here with you. Besides, I told you. No more running. Ever.’

  ‘So we’re getting married?’ Ash asked.

  She pressed a kiss to his lips. ‘We’re getting married.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that.’ Ash’s gaze shifted away from hers and over her shoulder. ‘Um, that no running thing, though. Does it still count if Charlie’s eating sand again?’

  Zoey glanced back at where her son was sitting at Arthur’s feet, feeding himself sand as Arthur chatted to one of his many business contacts.

  ‘Come on.’ She grabbed Ash’s hand and together they ran across the sand towards their son, the altar, and their happily-ever-after.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sophie Pembroke

  CEO’s Marriage Miracle

  Road Trip with the Best Man

  Island Fling to Forever

  Newborn Under the Christmas Tree

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from From Heiress to Mom by Therese Beharrie.

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  From Heiress to Mom

  by Therese Beharrie

  CHAPTER ONE

  A POUNDING WOKE her up.

  At first Autumn Bishop thought it was a dream. She’d gone to bed with one hell of a headache. Unsurprisingly: she’d spent a weekend away with her parents and sister, dealing with family drama, and had then driven six hours back to Cape Town.

  The familiar throbbing had come shortly after she’d arrived at home. Right on time. Her head always ached when she was far enough away from her family to brood about how different she was from her sister. And how those differences made her feel like a failure.

  When she heard the pounding, she thought it was that. Perhaps the pounding headache had manifested into a drumming. But then she heard a shrill ringing, and she woke up fully. Throwing the covers off, she ran to the front door, her stomach dropping when she opened it to Hunter Lee.

  Her stomach kept free-falling as her eyes swept over him. His brown hair was wild, a sign that he’d let the wind style it. The strong features of his face were tight, as if someone had attached them to a string at his nose and pulled, forcing everything to be drawn to the centre of his face. Even the muscles of his shoulders—his chest, his entire body—were tense.

  Something about it sent a wave of emotion, of awareness through her. When that wave collapsed, a second one of nausea replaced it.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Everything.’

  His voice, usually steady and strong, was hoarse, the word cracking. A part of her wanted to turn on her heel and climb back into bed; another, more forceful part spurred her forward. Before she knew it, her arms were circling around his significantly larger body.

  She wasn
’t sure why she was hugging him. They’d avoided this kind of contact since they’d made the transition from lovers to friends a year before. Besides, he wasn’t the kind for contact, unless in affection, and in private. But her instinct had been to comfort him. And, though she would never admit it aloud, to comfort herself at seeing him this way.

  She drew back and took a deliberate step away from him.

  ‘What happened?’

  He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. Her eyes automatically followed the movement, and she shoved away a kick of appreciation. It didn’t matter that his legs—those powerful, strong legs—deserved appreciation. Now was not the time.

  ‘Can I come inside?’

  His voice was steadier.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, opening the door wider.

  Two things happened then. One, she held her breath, not wanting to get a whiff of his cologne. The smell never failed to twist her insides, even after their break-up, and she’d become accustomed to not breathing it in when she was around him. Two was that a light breeze followed Hunter through the front door. It wasn’t particularly cool—cool and summer in the Western Cape of South Africa rarely went together—but Autumn shuddered, her skin shooting out in gooseflesh. And suddenly she realised how she looked.

  She was wearing a silk nightdress, a gift from her mother, since it was the first thing she’d found in her cupboard before falling into bed. She groaned softly. It wasn’t demure, though she might have been able to ignore that if her breasts had played along. They currently were not, having reacted to the breeze, and, along with the silk material, she knew she’d give Hunter an eyeful if she turned around like that.

  Not that it was something he hadn’t seen before. It was just... Autumn liked boundaries. Preferred them, where he was concerned. Where they were concerned. So she closed the door and crossed an arm over her chest. She wondered how terrible it was that she was thinking about her breasts when he was clearly upset.