Marquita Valentine - Not Over You

The butler stopped at a set of massive oak doors and lightly scratched on them before opening it.

She walked inside.

Liam stood at the fireplace, one hand braced on the mantle and the other nursing a drink. His hair was the same, black as night and cut close to his head. He wore a button-down shirt with cuff links at the end, and tailored trousers that did things for his butt that should have been illegal.

“Hi, Liam,” she said as the door shut behind her.

He turned, his black eyes roaming her body. His sexy mouth kicked up at one corner. “Bella, what brings you here? Your text was a bit vague.”

“You.”

Pushing away from the fireplace, he crossed the small distance between them, tipped up her chin with one hand, and kissed her. He tasted good, so good that she wondered if he used a special mouthwash formulated to make women want to eat him up.

“Stop,” she gasped.

He pulled away, his dark eyes amused. “I thought you were here for me.”

“No. I mean, I am.”

His amused gaze gave way to confusion. “Sorry?”

“There’s just no other way to say this, Liam, but I’m pregnant,” Bella said in a rush. “I had to tell you in person because over the phone was too impersonal, and there was no way I’d tell you over email or text. So here I am. Pregnant.”

“With your baby,” she added, just in case he had doubts.

His drink hit the wooden floor with a thunk, and then he laughed. “You’re joking.”

“No.”

He only laughed harder. “This is too much. Oh God. Seriously, did Bastian put you up to this?”

At least he wasn’t angry or saying it wasn’t his. He just didn’t believe she was pregnant at all.

She grabbed his hand and placed it against her stomach, where it had just started to round and firm up a bit.

“Does this feel like I’m joking?” she said.

His laughter died away, and his face turned serious. “It feels like you’re the answer to my prayers.”

She was? Wait a minute. “But you don’t pray.”

He glanced down at his hand. “Perhaps I should start.”