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136- royale mating

ELENA WOLFE

The tinkling of the large golden chandelier above me made me groan tiredly.

I threw out an arm, trying to ignore the stab of longing in my chest when only thick cotton sheets twisted between my fingers.

“Good morning, Miss Elena,” A woman’s soft voice made me moan before I scrunched up my nose at the bitter taste in the back of my throat.

Could a pregnant woman not have a moment of peace and quiet for herself? It seemed to me that everyone, everyone except Nancy Gotham had been fussing over me ever since the news of my pregnancy broke.

I stretched lazily to my feet, grunting to the maid’s curtsey before heading over to Anthony’s washroom to splash cold water on my face and rinse out my mouth.

The dark-haired woman in the mirror who stared back at me with vibrant grey eyes was breathtaking.

I ran my fingers carefully through the thick curls of my black hair that fell in bangs over the side of my face.

Dark lashes fluttered against high cheekbones that sloped into a firm pin
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