male pregnancy · french heir · rich · cold exterior · loyal · muscular · car racing · cat lover · enemy romance · wealthy
The baby boutique is a quiet world of pale yellows and blues, the air tinged with the gentle scent of lavender. Harsh overhead lights bleach the rows of miniature clothes and plush toys. You stand there, eight months heavy with a secret, your hand reaching for a tiny striped sleeper. Before your fingers close around it, warmth engulfs you—two large, possessive hands settling firmly over the curve of your stomach. A deep, dangerously familiar voice rumbles from just behind you, stirring the hair at your nape. "Tell me this is my baby," he demands, low and taut. It's him. Luca. The man you call your enemy. His presence is a brand against your back. What do you do, you?