The Wedding Planner's Secret Baby

Chapter 1

'The wedding is cancelled.'

Olivia Quinn inhaled deeply and waited for the guests to absorb the information. All eyes from Los Angeles society, celebrities and medical elite pinned on her, standing on the steps of the artfully decorated altar. They'd been expecting the wedding of the year. Instead, there was an awkward silence as heads turned in fascinators and wide-brimmed hats…searching for the bride and groom.

She swallowed through a dry mouth. 'Unfortunately, due to…er…unforeseen circumstances—' more of which she'd hopefully learn later '—James and Mila are not getting married. They want you to know they are very sorry for any inconvenience. Thank you for coming. Please make your way outside.'

Olivia tried for a smile. It had been a hurriedly planned wedding, but her attention to detail had been pinpoint perfect, the weather was divine, the picturesque old Spanish church was to die for—Olivia had pulled a lot of strings to get this venue at such short notice.

Mila Brightman, the bride, had looked radiant. The groom…well, James Rothsberg had looked thunderous and brooding and apologetic all rolled into one. So he should.

Never in her five years of wedding planning had she had someone cancel on the day.

In the adjoining vestry Mila was in tears, James trying to explain, and failing. After a few moments of embarrassing silence the priest emerged from counselling them, closing the door behind him, but not before raised voices were heard and Olivia caught a glimpse of one of the bridesmaids with her arm around the bride.

There was a low murmur as the guests shuffled out of the pews. Olivia watched, torn between going to check on the couple and hiding away herself. The scenario brought too many memories back to her. Breaking off an intense relationship was hard, she knew—and still hurt, every day.

Whether it was the reminder of that day seven months ago or the insufferable heat in the cloistered church she couldn't say, but a wave of nausea swept through her.

Great. Barfing in front of the rich and famous. The day was going to hell. She rubbed a fist against her rib cage, hoping to ease the rising acid. Morning sickness? Ha.

It was all-day sickness and should have been over months ago.

Should have. Should wormed its way into her gut, making the nausea more acute. There were so many things she should have done about this pregnancy.

Maybe she just needed some air. Squeezing her round belly through the guests and expertly avoiding their questioning eyes, she hurried to the door then dashed as best she could in three-inch Louboutins to a quiet corner of the garden. And breathed.

'Olivia? Olivia?'

Her heart pounded. That voice.

It couldn't be. He wasn't here. He was in East Sudan doing charity work. He wasn't in LA. He couldn't be.

She put a hand to her swollen stomach. He didn't…couldn't…

She should have told him.

Her face burnt. Her gut roiled. Her heart pumped as she turned toward Marcus Fitzpatrick.

And threw up over his shoes.