Page 148 of Filthy Promises

“No.” I wrap my arms around myself. “Even though maybe I should have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I didn’t.”

The silence between us grows loaded, heavy with all the things we’re not saying. All the truths we’re tiptoeing around.

As always, my mind goes to all the things I should do that I’m not doing. I should leave. Go home, pack a bag, and disappear before I get in any deeper with this man who’s about to marry someone else.

But then?—

Oh, God.

The nausea hits without warning, a violent wave that doubles me over.

“Rowan…?” Vince moves toward me, concern flashing across his face.

I hold up a hand, stumbling backwards. “I’m fine, just?—”

I don’t finish the sentence because I’m too busy projectile vomiting into a nearby potted plant—a sad ficus that definitely doesn’t deserve this fate.

Strong hands gather my hair back as I heave again. Vince’s hands. His touch gentle but firm on the nape of my neck.

When I’m done, I straighten up, mortified beyond words. “Sorry,” I mumble, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Must’ve been something I ate.”

He’s standing too close, studying my face with those eerily perceptive eyes. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not?—”

“You’ve been sick for weeks,” he interrupts. “Running to the bathroom every morning. Avoiding coffee. Falling asleep at your desk.”

My blood runs cold. Of course he noticed. Vince notices everything.

“Answer the question, Rowan.”

“You didn’t ask a question.”

His throat bobs with a swallow. “Are you pregnant?”

It’s wild to hear it from his mouth. Part of me wants to lie—to deny it, laugh it off, make up some excuse.

But I’m so tired of lies.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His face goes completely blank for a heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Then something morphs in his eyes—a flash of emotion so raw it nearly knocks me backwards.

“I don’t want to— I’m not accusing— I just— Fucking hell. Is it mine?” he asks, voice rough.

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

“When were you going to tell me?” There’s no accusation in his tone. Just quiet intensity.