Modern Romance October 2019 Books 5-8. Annie West

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      Of course it did rain in the Mediterranean on occasion. Summer storms weren’t unheard of. But the rain that lashed the side of the mansion woke Hannah before dawn, the unfamiliar ruckus causing her to frown at first. She pushed her sheet back, moving towards the window and staring out of it, so fascinated by the sight of everything that had become familiar looking so foreign and unrecognisable now. It took her a moment to realise what day it was. The significance of the morning.

      And then, to remember.

      To remember who she was marrying and what he meant to her.

      She gripped the wall behind her for support, turning and pressing her back to it as fear tightened inside her.

       ‘When Amy and Brax died, my heart died with them.’

      His words had been hammering away at her chest from the inside out since they’d come back from Paris.

      She’d decided, the night before, that she would marry him and let things play out. She’d had a sense of confidence, a sureness, that one day he would feel the same as she did.

      But what if he didn’t? What if he was right, and his heart was gone for ever, any kind of love no longer in his power to give?

      The rain fell harder and she turned to face it, pressing her forehead against the glass. The rain lashed the other side.

      What if he didn’t love her, and never would? What if he was no longer capable of love? What if she was about to tie herself to another man who was incapable of giving her what she needed?

      Panic flared.

      When Angus had proposed, she’d been grateful. She’d been grateful that someone loved her and wanted her. That someone was choosing her to be their wife and partner. Since her parents had died, she hadn’t felt that, and so she’d agreed to marry him out of gratitude rather than love.

      She’d known that, and it hadn’t mattered. She’d valued feeling wanted above anything else.

      But he hadn’t really wanted her. Not enough. He’d betrayed her before they’d even said their vows—he hadn’t deserved the trust she’d placed in him.

      And Leonidas?

      Hannah stepped away from the window, padding back to the bed, sitting down on the end of it and looking at her feet. She’d painted her toenails pale pink the day before, thinking how nice they’d look through the strappy sandals she planned to wear for her wedding.

      Leonidas didn’t want her. If she hadn’t been pregnant, they’d never have seen each other again. The thought made her gasp into the bedroom and she held a hand over her stomach, because that very idea seemed impossible to contemplate.

      Hannah could no longer disentangle her life from Leonidas’s.

      They were like roots from neighbouring trees, intertwined and interconnected, dependent on staying where they were for life.

      But what if he didn’t—wouldn’t—couldn’t love her?

      She’d decided the night before that she would simply wait. Wait for him to realise what they were, what they shared. But could she really do that?

      Hannah pushed up from the bed, knowing in her heart what she’d known even over dinner on the terrace.

      She couldn’t.

      She couldn’t do this if he didn’t know how she felt. She had to be honest with him. She had to…she had to tell him.

      And words she’d bit back the night before refused to be silenced now, so she closed the distance between their rooms quickly and pushed the door inwards without knocking, СКАЧАТЬ