“Can’t kill you? But what about the little one?” He hated facing this reality, but since it was already in motion, he couldn't bear the thought of Sasha getting hurt even more.
It was then Sasha grasped the nuance in Chase's words. Great, he actually thought she was pregnant. He was worried about her taking a tumble and having a miscarriage.
Sasha seriously wanted to deck the jerk right there in front of everyone. So, in his eyes, she was always a loose woman.
Fuming, she bit down on her lip. “The kid isn't yours. What are you getting all worked up for?” She shoved Chase aside, returning to her spot under the studio lights, ready for the next take.
Chase clenched his fist, seething. What a heartless little brat. All his kindness was taken for granted!
While cursing in his head, he handed Sasha's dinner to her assistant and stormed off.
New Year's Eve rolled around quickly. Sasha and Ryker were ringing in the New Year at Clara’s place. They planned to head to Riddleton on New Year's Day.
Clara, who was pregnant, didn't have many symptoms apart from being sleepy. Sasha dragged her out of bed at ten in the morning for a trip to the farmers' market.
After lunch, Clara was back to lounging on the couch, clutching a pillow, slowly closing her eyes, a picture of tranquility.
Ian walked into the living room just in time to witness this serene moment. He approached Clara and, removing his black cashmere coat, gently laid it over her.
His fingertips inevitably brushed her soft lips. That warm touch sent a current straight to the depths of his heart.
He tried to suppress the emotions bubbling up inside, but those lips were like a siren's call, beckoning him closer. Until their breaths mingled, until the faint scent of camellias from Clara enveloped him, and the last thread of Ian's restraint snapped.
He captured those lips that had haunted his dreams, savoring them slowly. Their wet, warm kisses were like spring rain, silent, nurturing, tender, and lingering.
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