The Greek's Pregnant Bride Chapter 73

He laughed. ‘He must have been delighted to know we’d fallen apart.’

‘No,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘When he realised I was actually in love with you, the chip he’d been
carrying went. He became my brother again.’

His lips were so close to hers. She craned her neck forward, suddenly desperate to feel them upon her,
to be cradled in his embrace but he gripped her neck at the side, gently but with enough firmness to
stop her moving.

‘So, you do love me?’ For the first time she saw his vulnerability.

‘Yes. I love you. With everything I have.’

She’d hardly finished speaking before his mouth crushed hers, his essence filling her with such
sweetness the tears really did fall.

‘Oh, my love,’ he said, wiping her tears away. ‘I never want to see you cry.’

‘They’re happy tears,’ she said with a sniff. ‘You’re not the only one who’s always felt unworthy—I’ve
spent my whole life feeling like a poisoned chalice, put on Earth to destroy anyone who gets close to
me.’ She stroked his cheek. ‘I wanted you to employ Kerstin because I thought she was the perfect
woman for you.’

Incredulity spread over his face. ‘You were trying to engineer me being with her?’

‘I thought she could make you happy. You wouldn’t have to compromise your time or sacrifice...’

Her words were cut off by a hard, possessive kiss.



‘You’re perfect for me,’ he said when he pulled away, cradling her cheeks to gaze into her eyes. ‘Just
you. We’ve both made sacrifices. I would make them again a thousand times over.’ He bowed his head
and brushed his lips against hers. ‘I love you. You’re my world.’

‘And you’re my everything,’ she answered softly.

For the first time Alessandra felt a tinge of sympathy for her father, who had gone so off the rails when
he’d lost the love of his life. After a fortnight without Christian, she had a little insight into what he must
have gone through. She would never be able to forgive him, not for the way his actions had so hurt
Rocco—and they had hurt her brother more than her because Rocco remembered a time when their
father was a loving man who had adored his small family—but a whole chunk of the bitterness she felt
towards him fell away.

‘I love you, Christian.’

‘Always.’

‘Always.’

And they did.

EPILOGUE

‘IT’S A GIRL!’

Alessandra didn’t know who was the most excited at the giving of the news—the obstetrician or her
husband, who announced it in unison while the midwife held the baby—her daughter—up for a few
brief seconds before the cord was cut and they whisked her away to clean her up

Christian was back at the top of the table, bed or whatever it was she was laid upon, raining kisses all
over her face, muttering prayers and thanks in Greek, English, Japanese, Cantonese and any other



language he could conjure.

‘You are wonderful,’ he said into her ear in a reverential fashion.

‘You’re pretty wonderful yourself.’ She laughed, stroking his hair.

It felt good to laugh.

It felt even better when they placed her daughter on her, allowing a little skin-on-skin time before
whisking her back off for swaddling.

‘Look in my bag,’ she whispered.

‘Why?’

‘Just look. There’s an envelope in the side pocket.’

Doing as he was bid, Christian tore the envelope open and studied the document inside.

After long moments he faced her, his eyes brimming with so much emotion it was like looking into an
overflowing bucket.

‘Thank you, Kiria Markos.’

‘You’re welcome Kyrios Markos.’

It was a document making official Alessandra’s name change from Mondelli to Markos.

This was her gift to him, her statement to them both as much as to the world that they were a unit.
Their love was for keeps. Cut one and both would bleed. Their baby made them a family. She wanted
their little family all to have the same name.




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