Page 67 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

She nodded.

Another disbelieving shake of his head.

Another nod. The slender shoulders rose. She expelled a long breath. ‘Sorry for ruining your life again, but I’m pregnant.’

* * *

A distant emergency services siren pierced through the siren roaring in Diaz’s ears.

He grabbed tightly to the side of the desk that was the only thing stopping him from slumping to the floor. His limbs had turned to water. ‘How?’

Her answering laughter contained no humour. ‘How do you think?’

‘But… We…’

‘No, we didn’t.’

An image flashed. Rose pinned beneath him. High cheekbones slashed with colour. Blue eyes liquid with the same desire that had liquidised his loins…

The siren ringing in his ears increased tenfold.

He hung his head and tried to breathe. Tried to think coherently. That night. He never allowed himself to think about it, had locked it away.

He’d woken with the soft weight of Rose pressed against his skin and a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest. All the emotions that had taken him over when making love to her…so many emotions had broken free…had compressed under the sense of doom throbbing in the back of his head and he’d known before opening his eyes that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

Forgetting that mistake had been the hardest task he’d ever set himself.

He met her stare. ‘How can you be sure it’s mine?’

The face that grew more captivating with each passing year spasmed. For the first time he caught a barely perceptible glimmer of hurt. ‘How can you even ask that?’

There was a strong chance he was going to be sick.

Rose, pregnant?

‘Oh, and just for extra fun, we’re having twins.’

A wave of nausea flooded his system. He blew out a long puff of air and clasped his cheeks. ‘Twins?’

‘You never do anything by halves, do you?’ she said in another attempt at a joke, which was Rose all over. In all the years he’d known her, he’d only caught her with her defences down three times. The last time had been four months ago when both their defences had been down.

And now she was carrying his child. Children.

Unless this was her idea of a sick joke; vengeance for the way he’d left her?

But no. That wasn’t Rose’s style. Not even Rose would stoop so low as to fake a pregnancy. That bump straining against her dress…

Diaz was going to be a father. Not a father to just one child, but to twins. And Rose, the woman he was counting the days until their divorce could be filed, was their mother.

‘I need a drink,’ he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

This was too much.

He’d thought he was finally freed from Rose’s toxic spell, that he could live the rest of his life and never have to hear her name or share her air again.

She gave a short laugh. ‘Have one for me. Believe me, there’ve been a few times these last four months when all I’ve wanted is to bury myself in a bottle of gin but I’ve got these little lives inside me to think of.’

He stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘How can you be so calm?’ Calm when he felt like a rug had been yanked out from under his feet. Scratch that. Felt like his wholeworldhad been yanked out from under him.

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