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you were pregnant with my child. The Daily said you had to finish some very intense Archaeological project before you could join me here to start planning our wedded bliss.”
    “Oh Jesus! You actually read that stuff?”
    I love it when she gets all indignant and pretends that her and Mum don’t cackle themselves half to death over the ridiculous gossip and speculation.
    “Why indeed. How else am I to know what to say when people ask me how I met my little dumpling?” I ask, grinning and pulling her close.
    “Shut up. You knew this was just sex and now you have—”
    “Hush, Ducky. All will be well. We’ll be married, and I will, of course, claim the baby as my own and things will go on as before.”
    “No!” she yells, jumping to her feet.
    Surprising, since she moves so slowly lately due to her girth.
    Her denial and refusal angers me, but I have to remember that she’s emotional and still a little unsettled by the speed with which this is all happening.
    I, on the other hand, feel fabulous now that the conflicting emotions within me are at rest and settled. I don’t have to hate her and reject her on principle, and I don’t have to feel guilty about lusting after my dead brother’s girl since by her own admission she was never really his to begin with.
    The playing field is clear for me, wide open for me to take what I want and spit in the eye of every man and woman who’d pitied me and commiserated while laughing behind my back.
    “Oh come, Ducky. We can have a double wedding with Molly and Kent. Together Marge and Millie will plan an extravaganza that will rival any royal wedding to date. And just think, Ducky, Lettie and Fanny will be green with envy.”
    The irony that two of Britain’s most eligible bachelors will be marrying woman that our exes see as “fat and inferior” while they’re left standing on the sidelines tickles me pink. It really does, and I can’t help but bask in the compliments I’d received from many a male when they’d seen a photo of Shaw in the papers.
    Yes, my girl really is quite a beauty if only in that quiet unassuming way, and I love that she is now all mine.
    “Cameron! Be serious!” she yells, flinging her robe on to pace the length of the room.
    I don’t mention that the thing is so sheer I can clearly see every inch of her skin, her nipples, and the dark patch of hair between her legs. Really, she’s bloody sexy as hell.
    “I am being serious, Duck. This solves everyone’s problems. Mum’s been dying to talk to her friends about the baby, but she’s terrified that they’ll ask about the father. Short of telling them what an arse Rob was, she doesn’t know what to do.”
    “You want me to spend the rest of my life with you to make Marge happy!”
    Riiight. Obviously not the answer she was looking for.
    That’s all right Stone, just revise and rephrase, old chap.
    Maybe if I kiss her and fondle her bits again? She seems to lose track of her thoughts when I’m fondling her massive tits and her ample arse.
    “No, Ducky. I want you to marry me so that you and the baby can be cared for. My parents will be happy. Oh and there’s the added benefit that I truly bloody want you! Do you think I get this barmy for anything with a vagina?”
    She gives me a skeptical look, and I curse.
    “Well, what do you want me to say? You told me I’m fat and unexceptional or whatever it was you said to make me feel gross and you hated me till two seconds ago so forgive me for being a little skeptical here, Cameron. Jesus! I know that seeing Letitia again must have hurt—”
    “Not bloody likely.” I snort, lying back against the pillows with a laugh.
    I’m relaxed and smug, as she continues pacing—no stalking —across the room because I’m confident that once she loses steam we’ll be right back on track.
    “Cameron. Focus.”
    “But I am focused, baby. Right now, I am really focused on the way your nipples are staring at me through that robe. And the fact that