Her Asian Billionaire: A BWAM Pregnancy Love Story by BWWM Club, Mary Peart

during the night and they
had spoken until the wee hours of the morning. He had complained that
he had gotten so used to her sleeping beside him that he could not
fall asleep without her beside him. She had teased him and told him
that he was going to get tired of her soon. “Never,” he
had told her vehemently.
    The
crowd was small and even though he knew his parents would not show
up, John had held onto the hope that maybe his mother would be there
at the very least. He had sent them an invitation but had not heard
anything from them. He was too happy to allow them not being there
spoil what he considered to be one of the best days of his life.
    His
breath caught in his throat as he saw his bride make her way up the
aisle on the arms of Alfonso the chef. She was stunningly beautiful
and she had taken off the heavy winter jacket she had worn outside to
reveal the dress that made her look like a delicate porcelain doll.
Her hair was caught up on top of her head and twisted in a knot with
small rosebuds intertwined and her make-up was minimal. She was
everything he had ever dreamed of and more and he could not believe
it.
    He met
her halfway and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips; his
eyes on hers. "I love you," he whispered.
    *****
    "How
are you Mrs. Yang?" he asked her gently. They were having their
first dance as husband and wife and he held her close as the music
played.
    "Very
happy Mr. Yang," she smiled up at him, her arms going around his
neck.
    She
rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, she was home
and she had never been happier.
    "I
wanted us to go on a honeymoon," he told her; looking down at
her with a tender expression on his handsome face. He wanted to give
her the world and more but she had told him practically that they did
not have the time and they needed all the money they had. "I am
still going to." He promised her, bending his head to take her
mouth in a deep kiss.
    *****
    The
reception was a success. They had announced the opening as a wedding
reception for the new owners and it had drawn quite a bit of crowd.
John had taken her home to slip out of her wedding dress and put on a
dark blue wool pants suit. She had left her hair the way it was and
had bundled up in a brand new cashmere coat he had bought for her.
    She had
done some slight changes to the décor, replacing the vinyl
seating with soft cushion seats and had repainted the interior. There
were fresh flowers everywhere and a flat screen television on one of
the walls. For the opening, Alfonso had gone all out with the help of
her mother and had put fried chicken, beautifully made cucumber and
tomato sandwiches, roast beef and a vegetable and fruit platter.
There was wine for those who needed it but Rosa had to contend with
drinking orange juice from a flute.
    It went
very well and she decided they would not come in tomorrow; being
Monday they would take the time off and spend the day together.
    Rosa
accepted the congratulations graciously as she made her way around
the room. Her husband was at the far corner talking to some
acquaintances but she could feel his gaze on her every now and then.
    “You
done well baby girl,” her mother came up beside her and linked
her arm through hers. “I am so proud of you.”
    “Thanks
mama,” she told her mother huskily, “I am so happy.”
    *****
    They
reached home at a quarter past twelve and Rosa realized that although
she was tired, she had never been so happy in her entire life.
    “You
are not getting out of bed tomorrow,” John told her firmly as
he helped her get out of her dress. He had been watching her all
night and had wanted to tell her she needed to relax but he was
beginning to know his wife and knew when it came to the restaurant
she would not listen. He knew she was tired and he wanted her to
rest. It would kill him if something happened to her or the baby.
    “Okay,”
she told him drowsily, smiling up at him as he rubbed some cream on
her feet. “You are the