PLUS-SIZE FAKE PREGNANCY

“Why on earth should I let you marry that frigid, tight-assed bitch? She looks like an oil drum, Darling.”

Chloe’s sharp hiss cut through the heavy silence of the penthouse suite at The Connaught in Mayfair. Her fingers, tipped with a fierce, fire-engine red manicure, trailed lazily across Liam’s broad, damp chest as he soaked in the Carrara marble tub.

“So you can slide into the Harrington family without a single hitch, sweetheart,” Liam rasped. He caught her wrist, halting her hand right over his heartbeat.

“That sounds like a sick joke!” Chloe snapped, her annoyance flaring.

“It’s not a joke. It’s a flawless strategy.”

“A strategy?” Chloe let out a sharp, breathless gasp. “You’re going to marry her! You’re going to live under the same roof! I’m supposed to just be okay with you sharing a bed with that walking lump of meat? Just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach, Liam! I can’t stand the idea of your flawless skin touching her bloated body!”

Chloe yanked her hand away, sending ripples through the warm water of the oversized tub. She turned her back to him, deliberately flaunting the smooth, wet curve of her spine.

“The woman looks like a prized hog,” Chloe muttered bitterly. “She’s brainless, utterly passionless, and she moves like a snail under the weight of her own fat. And her clothes! She dresses like an eighteenth-century nun just to hide those ridiculous, thick folds of skin. And your mother? Your mother worships her like she’s some kind of saint, when she’s really just an obese girl nobody else wanted!”

Liam let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Wrapping his arms around Chloe’s waist from behind, he pressed a warm kiss to her fragrant shoulder.

“That is exactly why our plan is going to work, my love,” Liam whispered against her ear, making her shudder deliciously.

“How can you be so sure? You’re marrying her. Everyone is going to know her as your wife!”

“She’s nothing more than a pet to my mother and me,” Liam said, his tone dropping into something chillingly manipulative. “She’s far too stupid to ever talk back. She’s never even been on a date. She just sits there like a giant wax figure. Once I marry her, my mother will finally stop nagging me and get off my back.”

Chloe spun around to face him, looping her arms tightly around his neck. “And what about me? How long do I have to hide in the shadow of that overgrown elephant?”

“Not long, I promise,” Liam murmured, his eyes darkening as desire caught fire. “The contract is already drawn up.”

“A contract?” Chloe asked, her interest piqued. “What’s in it?”

“We’re going to have a child, Chloe. I’m going to get you pregnant, and that fat cow is going to pretend to carry our baby in public.”

Chloe’s eyes went wide, suspended between disbelief and a thrill of dark excitement at the sheer madness of the idea. “Pretend to be pregnant? How could she pull that off?”

“With those loose, tent-like dresses of hers and a body that’s already bloated, no one will suspect a thing. They’ll just assume she’s showing. Then, we’ll ship her overseas, far away from the prying eyes of London high society. The moment our baby is born, I’ll divorce her, and you’ll step in as the savior who swoops in to raise my child. My family won’t have a choice but to accept you.”

“Are you absolutely certain this will go smoothly?”

“Of course it will,” Liam said, brimming with arrogance.

“But what if your mother wants to see her or stroke her belly? She’s going to think she’s actually carrying her grandchild.”

“I’ve already thought of that. I’ll buy a silicone pregnancy belly to fool the lot of them.”

“Liam, you are a genius!” Chloe purred.

“And the best part? Once our child is born, they will inherit the entire Harrington fortune.”

Chloe’s breath hitched at the mention of the inheritance. That was the real prize-the staggering, astronomical wealth she had been chasing all this time.

“But you promise you won’t touch her, right?” Chloe hovered just millimeters from his lips, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

“I promise you.”

“Not even once, Liam. If I ever find out you laid a finger on that mountain of blubber, I will hate you for the rest of my life!”

“I wouldn’t even want to look at her hideous body with the lights off, Chloe,” Liam cut in, his voice dripping with utter disdain. “To me, she’s nothing but a soiled piece of scrap paper I can toss into the trash whenever I please. Just imagining touching her is enough to kill my libido entirely.”

“Do you swear?”

“I swear it on my love for you.”

A triumphant, sensual smile curved Chloe’s lips. She wrapped her fingers around the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a fierce, bruising kiss.

Liam lifted her slender frame straight out of the marble bath-completely ignoring the water spilling onto the expensive oak floors-and carried her to the grand bed draped in Egyptian silk. There, they lost themselves in each other, a wild celebration of the cruel trap they had just laid.

Hours later, outside a stately Georgian mansion in the ultra-exclusive enclave of Belgravia, Liam stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, his expression cold and detached. He strode into the Vance family’s private library, his Tom Ford suit immaculately pressed once more, though the sharp, cloying scent of Chloe’s perfume still lingered faintly on his collar.

Seated behind a magnificent mahogany desk was a heavy-set young woman.

Elena Vance. Her full figure was shrouded in a loose, navy blue long-sleeved dress that buttoned all the way to her throat.

Thud!

Liam slammed a black leather folder directly over the business law textbook Elena was reading.

“What is this, Liam?” Elena’s voice was flat, entirely unbothered.

“Our prenup and marriage contract,” Liam replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “My mother wants you as a daughter-in-law, and I’m forced to indulge her. But don’t go expecting the fairytale marriage you’ve probably been dreaming about, Elena. A woman who looks like you should know her place.”

Elena glanced down at the folder, then raised her eyes back to Liam, completely devoid of emotion.

“I’ve never cared for fairytales, Liam. I know exactly why this marriage is happening.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re realistic,” Liam sneered. “Open it and read.”

Elena opened the folder, her movements calm, deliberate, and precise.

“It’s all spelled out clearly,” Liam continued, pitching his voice low to intimidate her. “This marriage lasts only until I have an heir. You’ll get the status, a massive allowance, and the respectability of the Harrington name. But for the duration of this marriage, you will follow every single rule I set. That includes playing along with a pregnancy when the time comes, and letting me live my life exactly how I see fit.”

Elena didn’t flinch. Her eyes scanned line after line of the degrading stipulations-rules designed to reduce her dignity to nothing, turning her into a shield for the woman Liam actually loved.

Liam watched her like a hawk, waiting for a flash of anger or a burst of tears. But Elena remained ice-cold. Not a single tear welled in her pale cheeks.

“Why the silence? Want to complain?” Liam demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Elena didn’t answer right away. She picked up a heavy, expensive fountain pen, then leveled a look at Liam that was impossible to read.

“If I sign this, do you promise to expedite the process so we can end this marriage as quickly as possible?”

Liam blinked, caught off guard for a fraction of a second. “Of course. The sooner you and your massive body are out of my life, the better.”

“However, I have one condition of my own, Liam.” Elena’s tone was entirely casual, utterly ignoring his insult.

“I don’t negotiate!”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Spit it out then, what is it?!” Liam snapped impatiently.

“If your mistress fails to get pregnant within a year, this entire contract is void, and I remain Mrs. Liam Harrington for the rest of your life.”

Liam stared at her, stunned by the sheer audacity of her demand. Then, he let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

“Are you really that desperate to be my wife forever?” Liam scoffed. “Don’t aim so high, Elena. I won’t be touching you at all in this marriage, except for what’s required for public appearances!”

“If you don’t like my terms, I can always take this ridiculous little contract straight to Elizabeth,” Elena said smoothly, resting her pen casually on top of the document. “I’m sure your mother would love to know just how incredibly stupid her son really is.”

“What did you just say? You think I’m stupid?” Liam’s temper flared hot.

“Mm-hmm.” Elena nodded slowly.

“Are you seriously threatening me now?”

“I am offering a mutually beneficial compromise, Liam. The terms you brought me are utterly unremarkable. I don’t need your fortune, nor do I care about your family’s prestige. The Vance family has never been lacking in either.” Elena shot back, her tone dripping with quiet disdain.

Liam hissed through his teeth, stung by her dismissal. He hadn’t expected Elena to have teeth, let alone a tongue this sharp. Worse, he knew she was right. He had nothing to leverage against her except money, which she clearly didn’t need.

“Fine! Deal!” Liam barked harshly. “Besides, I know for a fact that my beautiful, sexy Chloe will conceive in no time.”

Elena merely curled her lip. “Perfect. Now that’s what I call a fair trade,” she murmured.

Lowering her gaze, she pressed the nib of the pen to the paper and signed her name without a shred of hesitation. She snapped the folder shut and slid it back across the smooth mahogany toward Liam.

“It’s done,” Elena said, her gaze locking dead-center onto his. “Your cursed little marriage ... has officially begun.”