Two Days Before The Wedding

EvangelineI’ve always been drawn to the unknown, and this night is no exception.I’m sitting at the bar, slowly sipping probably my third glass of whatever the fuck the barman mixed up for me. I like it, it’s why I’m on the third glass. Do you know why I like it? Because it makes me so sensitive, so aware of my surroundings. So aware of the man in a black suit staring at me with intrigue from the other end of the bar.Or maybe he isn’t staring at me. Maybe it’s me who’s staring at him.Isn’t he the groom—or groom to be?It has to be him. I think I saw his friends dumping a full bottle of whiskey down his throat, screaming about how he should enjoy his last nights of freedom.It has to be him.God forgive me for drooling over someone else’s husband to be, but this man is beautiful; dangerously handsome. He’s still sitting, but I can tell he lacks nothing in height too. And his hair, it looks like he just walked out the shower after having the most demanding sex of his life.What am I

EvangelineThe air in London carries a distinct flavor—crisp, cold, and faintly redolent of rain. Alexander's car is gently gliding through the streets, but the man I’m accompanying is looking out the window, his face taut as if his thoughts are eating him alive. Maybe there are. I need to change that though. It’s after all what I’m here to do—keep his mind off things, keep him happy before his wedding in two days.His jaw is tense, clenched so tight I can see the flexing of his teeth, his fingers drumming against his knee, saying much more than actual words could. His head is elsewhere. He’s thinking about everything—his confusion, the wedding, her, them, maybe even me.Perhaps he’s wondering how a harmless night in the club yielded this moment. A woman he doesn’t know in his car, traveling with him after sharing a steamy night. It can be overwhelming even for a man like him.I look out the window and my eyes widen, a smile splitting my face. “Stop here, Peter!” I exclaim excitedly,

EvangelineOne simple piece of advice.Ladies, when you go to a club, drink something your body knows and stick to your limits. Trust me, you don’t want to wake up months later to a life-altering surprise.I should know.Three months ago, I made the worst decision of my life. I was paid to seduce a man and give him a night he’d never forget—two days before his wedding. His name? Alexander Creed. And until this morning, I thought I’d left that reckless choice in the past where it belonged. But now, as I stare at the second pink line on the pregnancy test, reality is crashing in.I’m pregnant. With Alexander’s child.Fuck me.My chest feels tight as I stand in the cramped bathroom of my best friend’s clinic. My head swims with everything I’ve been ignoring for weeks—the nausea, the exhaustion, the missed periods. I thought it was stress, maybe hormonal shifts. But no, it’s this. Pregnancy. Baby.Do I want one? No.But here I am, carrying one—a three month old one.“It’s real,” I murmur,

AlexanderI’m a stupid, stupid man. And my heart is the most stupid part of me. Which is why I’ll swallow my pride and admit that Evangeline is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.Even after all she did to me—connived with my wicked witch of an ex-fiance, got me drunk, and got into my bed—I still had to fight my urge to reach for her the moment I saw her today.With those beautiful, playful eyes and that feisty tongue.And the thought that she could be growing my child. Fuck. It does things to me, makes me remember the best night I’ve ever had.That said, I cannot allow myself to fall for that vile woman ever again. She used me, lied to me, made a mess of my name, disappeared for months only to reappear with a pregnancy. That is a level of deceit I’ll never fall for.This is done.Evangeline and I are done. We were the moment Chanel threw pictures of us, entangled in bed at me.The echo of her footsteps still lingers in the room long after she stormed out. The door slams shut, th

EvangelineMemories, memories, memories…This man—Alexander Creed—thoughts of him invade me, leaving me breathless even as I’m seated with him and his lawyer in his office. Keeping my eyes away from him is a hassle, and steering my thoughts from the things those hands, lips and body did to me three months ago is a bigger struggle.Stormy grey eyes meet mine from behind that desk that makes him appear like royalty and I recoil in my seat. Beautiful man.But I won’t let him treat me as he pleases simply because he’s beautiful and knows how to fuck. Hell no. I’m not a pushover.Three months ago was a mistake—I’m a twenty three year old who likes to explore. And I will not be punished for it; not by Xander, not by the public, and definitely not by my conscience.“For someone who detests me, Xander, you seem to enjoy my company a lot,” I start, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Weren’t you in my apartment just yesterday, so what am I doing in your office today?”He regards me for a moment,