The Heir — Georgia Le Carre

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With those searing whiskey eyes, chiseled face, and cocky attitude it was pretty obvious he was a player. Ordinarily, I would have been able to resist him, but it was my best friend's wedding, and I'd had a lot of alcohol, so I thought, what the hell. At the very least he'd have the skills, and judging by that huge swell in his pants, the equipment to give a bridesmaid a good time. Of course, we used a condom, actually, a few, but one month later I'm sitting on my bathroom floor looking at five pregnancy sticks all lined up. Each one telling me the same thing: Girl, you're pregnant. Clearly, he won't want to know, being a player and everything, but my best friend says telling him is the right thing to do. Looks like I'll have to go to Italy to give him the bad news. 

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 I wasn't asleep when she woke up that morning and crept out of my hotel room. For the first time in my life I didn't want a hook-up to leave, but that made me more determined than ever not to see her again. I liked my carefree life too much. I left England and flew to Monte Carlo. The big plan was to hit the casinos and lose myself in other women, but I got back to Italy and simply couldn't forget her. A month later out of the blue, she swans back into my life to drop her bombshell. I let her slip away once. I won't again. This time I'm doing the unthinkable. I'm going to limit myself to just one woman. I'll show her I can be the perfect daddy. This woman and the baby in her belly are going nowhere. 

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