Page 87 of The Marriage Deal

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It is Zahir in the end who brings about a truce. And not quickly; it takes time. I grow enormous with our baby, round and definitely-not-glowing, and then he is born, a perfect little bundle with Zahir’s eyes and my mother’s smile that makes the discomfort of pregnancy completely worth it. Motherhood changes me. I am aware of a river that runs through me, channelling life and existence, history and the present, the promise of the future, a river that connects me to my son, and which also connects me to my father, my father to my son.

And yet, I still ignore my father, unable to soften towards him when I think of what he might have done to my husband.

It is Zahir who changes my mind, who gradually softens me, so that eventually, nervously, I agree to meet with him. And despite what Zahir has always said about his involvement with my father, he came with me. Not because he wanted to – I could tell how hard it was for him – but because he knew I needed him, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me.

The meeting is a beginning. My father did great wrong, and yet he’s still my father, a man who’s also capable of great goodness and kindness, a man I have always loved. The relationship will never be simple and straightforward again, but the relationship persists and because he understands that a piece of me is missing for as long as my father and I are estranged, Zahir works to bring us together, gradually reintroducing my father to my life, always watchful and listening to me, making sure I’m ready, always supporting.

By the time our son turns one, I am pregnant again, and my father is the first person we tell. A river connects us, and the ancient grudges and enmity seem impossible to remember now, as love has permeated every aspect of palace life. Even love for my father, because Zahir made sure of it.

THE END

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Following is an excerpt from REGRET ME NOT, the first book in The Montebello series - sexy, escapist romances with perfect HEAs.

Regret Me Not

THE MONTEBELLOS BOOK 1

All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s very-vivid, non-stop imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention (mwah-ha-ha).

All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.

The illustration on the cover of this book features smokin’ hot model/s and, as gorgeous as they are, bears no relation to the characters described within.

Any medical advice in this book, related by characters or otherwise, exists to further the story and is not necessarily based in fact. Medical advice quoted in this book should not be taken as anything other than narrative invention; please do not rely on romance novel characters to inform your medical decisions! If pregnant, seek professional, qualified advice.

First published 2019

(c) Clare Connelly

Cover Credit: adobestock/theartofphoto & rudi197

http://www.clareconnelly.com

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Prologue

Three years ago

SHE WAS SILK BENEATH his fingertips, soft and smooth and his body craved hers again now, despite the fact they’d spent the whole night wrapped together, limbs entwined, mouths seeking. He’d been hungry in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time – if ever – and he was hungry for her now.

He shifted carefully in the bed, angling his face towards hers so he could see her better, the soft light of dawn filtering in almost a sufficient amount to shape the features he knew so well by touch.

It was her eyes he’d noticed first. Almost too-large for her face, and so shimmering brown they were like liquid gold. They’d been both trusting and cynical and if there was one thing in life Fiero Montebello understood, it was contradictions. He understood happiness and pleasure, like this, in the midst of extreme pain and shock. A night out of time, a night to revel in his body’s instincts and strength, when the body of the man who had raised him, his beloved grandfather, was simultaneously close to death. This night had been a reprieve, a release, a way to exist on a purely sensual level, to close off his emotions and thoughts and simply enjoy bodily pleasures.

How long had it been since he’d done this?

Lips that were full and pouting without her notice were parted now, her soft breath sounds filled the room. Her nose had a lift at the end, like a little ski-jump and there was a cluster of tiny, faint freckles which danced across her cheekbones – he’d laid kisses there the night before, wanting to kiss her all over, taste all of her, thinking he could do so and be done.

But it had been years since he’d felt his body move with passion like this, years since he’d obeyed his body’s commands, and finally succumbing to temptation had driven him wild. He felt wild now, filled with needs and almost selfish enough to wake her, so that they might start answering them together.


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