Page 14 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

“Keep the make-up light.” Her sister Tahlia spoke at her side, directing the make-up artist who was called in to help her get ready for tonight.

Her belly churned at the thought of meeting her fiancé. She didn’t want to attend the dinner, but she could hardly back out of her own pre-engagement dinner—a shindig arranged specifically with the intention of introducing the bride to the groom.

But how could she agree to marry one man, when she carried another’s child in her womb? Did her fiancé deserve such deception?

After her disastrous meeting with Alexandre, Raquel had taken a taxi back home, where she’d broken down—cried for the unfortunate situation she found herself in.

If only she had stayed home and not gone to the club that night!

She didn’t know what she had expected from Alexandre, but it certainly wasn’t his outright refusal to accept the fact that they had made a baby together. He had used protection, he’d stated confidently, putting the blame on her for getting pregnant.

That he doubted the paternity of his own child, was a stab in her heart for it made her realize how different they both really were.

For Alexandre to think that she would pass off someone else’s baby as his, spoke volumes of the kind of people he mixed with. Were the women in his life so conniving?

But she hadn’t expected him to tell her to get rid of the child. It told her all she needed to know about Alexandre.

He was immoral and cruel, to not only reject his child but to suggest that she kill it too!

At that moment Raquel knew what she had to do. She would stand up for her child and protect it—protect it from the wrath of her family, its father’s hatred and the scorn of the world.

She would love her child, even if no one else did.

“Stop blinking, Raquel!” Tahlia ordered, jerking her from her thoughts.

Nodding, she sat still so the woman could finish her make-up.

Next, came a hair stylist who swept her long hair into a beautiful chignon, pinning it artfully to the back of her head.

Raquel thanked the two women before turning to Tahlia who held up a beautiful maroon concoction in silk, overlaid with lace.

“This is perfect on you,” she commented, zipping the dress closed before turning her around. Noticing how sullen Raquel looked, she asked, “Why’re you so dull tonight?”

How could she tell her sister that she didn’t want to get married—not now when she was pregnant with Alexandre’s child?

“I’m not sure about this marriage,” she confessed.

“But you told mother that you were okay with this arrangement,” Tahlia reminded her. Raquel winced.

It was true—she had agreed to marry a stranger on her mother’s command, but that was before Alexandre. Now she couldn’t even think of being with another man—not when Alexandre still occupied her thoughts and plagued her dreams.

And certainly not when she was pregnant with his child!

For a moment, she deliberated confiding in Tahlia, but quickly snuffed the thought. For one more night, she would guard her secret. And tomorrow, she would tell her family about the baby.

But how would she present the matter to her mother?

The thought kept her occupied the whole way to Pérola—a small island off the coast of Goa, linked to the mainland by a strait.

Raquel’s family was originally from Pérola and it was ironic that she was going back to the one place her mother had fought hard to get out of.

She looked out the window as the car traversed the bridge which linked the island to the mainland, taking in the huge ball of yellow that was the setting sun. Brilliant reds and pinks decorated the sky as the moon slowly climbed to rule over the night.

Warm air brushed her cheeks as she leaned out the window to breathe in the fresh air, immediately crinkling her nose when the musty smell of fish invaded her nostrils. Laughter gurgled in her throat as a breeze whipped up strands of hair across her face, and Raquel forgot all her troubles for a few minutes.

But as they drew closer to the Monteiro family home—a palatial mansion right on the beach—her pulse began to skitter. Tension coiled tight in her belly as sweat gathered in her armpits.

How was she going to get through tonight without spilling the truth?

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