A/N Happy Valentine's Day!

Sorry this update took so long, but it would have taken even longer if it weren't for Mid Night- Cougar and her awesome beta'ing skills :D

Jen rocks as always!

Also, my French is a bit rusty, so I hope that my French-speaking readers aren't going to be too mad at me for butchering their language…

Enjoy!

Chapter 23

Edward Pov

~ July 21st, 2012 ~

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"Oh, Edward," she moaned, her eyes half closed as her voluptuous body moved up and down on me with purpose.

Her nails dug into my chest, her outstretched arms framing the fullness of her breasts on each side and captivating my attention. She was twelve weeks pregnant and her baby bump was now easily visible, especially from the position I was in. Entranced, I moved one hand from her hips to her stomach and rubbed the soft skin gently. She let out a quiet whimper, and I trailed my way upwards, making sure to take my time in caressing each breast thoroughly.

"Oh," she breathed again when my thumb circled her taut nipple. "That feels good."

I smiled a little, enjoying watching her pleasure. For the past week or so, her sex drive had been off the charts, and I was more than glad to be on the receiving end of her unrestrained passion.

Although the changes in her body weren't major yet, her behavior had somewhat altered since getting pregnant. While her mood swings were still something I was trying to get used to, her revved up sex drive made me deliriously happy. I had read somewhere that some pregnant women have no sexual desire at all, but luckily for us, that wasn't the case with Isabella. Now she was the one to initiate most of our intimate moments, and there were days when she was so hungry for me that she left me completely spent.

And even though our prolonged love-making sessions were tiring, I wouldn't have had it any other way. With all her increased sensitivity, her orgasms were more frequent and much more intense than ever before which only made our time between the sheets more pleasurable for the both of us.

Isabella leaned over me and leisurely dragged her lips across mine before opening her mouth and stroking my tongue with hers. It was my time to moan as the new angle caused her internal walls to wrap around my cock tighter. Her hands roamed the muscles on my shoulders freely as she broke the kiss to stare down at me with intense brown eyes, and I pulled her closer to me, my right hand reaching behind her to palm her luscious ass.

"Let's switch," she proposed, pushing herself off of me.

She got on all fours on the mattress beside me, and I had to reign in the urge to plunge into her roughly as I sat on my knees behind her. Grabbing hold of her hips, I began to push my way inside slowly. She arched her back in return, dropping her upper weight onto her elbows and fisting the sheet above her head.

"Harder," she demanded, unsatisfied with the pace I was setting.

"Like this?" I asked, pulling out all the way and slamming my hips against her backside so hard, she was pushed forward with her face pressed against the mattress.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her voice muffled.

Her cries spurred me on, and I increased my pace and intensity, keeping it up until she came hard, her powerful orgasm triggering my own. Afterwards, I found myself on my back, staring at the ceiling as Isabella lay with her head on my chest, her fingers playing with the short hairs there.

It was our second day in Salers, a picturesque mountain village in Auvergne, one of the twenty-seven administrative regions of France. We had spent five days in Paris, one in Mont Saint-Michel, and we planned on spending two more in Salers. Then we were going to head to Monte Carlo for a full week of sunbathing and lavish activities.

"What do you feel like doing today?" I asked, stroking her smooth hair.

She placed her chin on her folded arms as she looked up at me. "I feel like driving around to see the mountains, maybe even have a little picnic in a meadow somewhere."

I smiled, leaning down to place a loving kiss on the tip of her nose. "Sounds like a plan."

"I'm starving," she yawned, stretching lazily. "Should we order breakfast or do you want to go back to La Diligence?"

I reached to the nightstand for my watch only to see that it was a quarter past nine in the morning. "Let's go back to La Diligence. I want to give their breakfast menu a try."

Isabella stretched some more before pushing herself off of me and getting out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, glancing at me over her shoulder. "Do you want to join me?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I replied with a chuckle, admiring her naked form as she walked into the bathroom.

The bathroom that had no door.

Our suite at Le Bailliage hotel had a very interesting design. While half of the suite's walls were covered in chunks of chopped log to give the rooms a more rustic ambiance, the bathroom's exterior walls were made out of stone. More so, these curved stone walls, came descending from the ceiling, ending up at chin level where the door was supposed to be.

I watched from the bed as Isabella bent over the bathtub and tested the water with the tips of her fingers. Then she straightened up and placed the shower head in its support on the blue tile wall before stepping inside and pulling the shower curtain. With a contented sigh, I rose to my feet and followed after her.

Forty minutes and a very steamy shower later, we were walking hand in hand towards the small restaurant called La Diligence, which was situated right in the center of the medieval village. Once there, we decided to sit at one of the tables outside just like we had done the previous night. I pulled out Isabella's chair for her before sitting down across from her. The same waiter who had served us at dinner approached us with a smile, holding our menus.

"Bonjour," he greeted, placing the menus in front of us. He was a middle-aged man of small stature with really dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Bonjour," I replied. "Merci beaucoup."

He departed shortly after with a nod, giving us time to decide.

"Their cheese omelet looks good," I commented moments later, looking at the pictures displayed next to each dish.

Isabella hummed in agreement, still very much focused on her own menu. "But I'm going to have the crêpes."

"Again?" I inquired, amused.

She glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. "They're really good."

"That's all you're having?"

"Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm actually going to have two of them."

I was just about to argue that crêpes weren't exactly a proper breakfast when our waiter returned with a small notebook and a pen.

"Puis-je prendre votre commande?" (Can I take your order?) he asked, looking at us expectantly.

"Je voudrais une omelette au fromage, de l'eau minérale Vichy et un café," (I would like a cheese omelet, Vichy mineral water and a cup of coffee,) I replied, and he jotted down my order before moving his gaze to Isabella.

"Oh. Um, I want two of these warm apple and chocolate crêpes, please."

"Deux?" He held up two fingers, indicating that whether or not he spoke English, he at least understood some of it.

"Yes."

"Do you want anything to drink?" I asked her.

"Juice I guess," she said, closing her menu and giving it to the waiter. "You pick for me."

I briefly skimmed the menu still in my hands before handing it over. "Et un jus de fruits Pago, s'il vous plaît." (And some Pago fruit juice, please)

"De pommes, de pêches, de fraise?" (Apple, peach, strawberry?) he said automatically.

"De pommes." (Apple.)

"C'est tout?" (Is this all?)

"Oui." (Yes.)

He nodded, turning on his heel and heading inside. When I redirected my attention back to Isabella, I saw that she was staring at me with a strange expression.

"What?" I frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"

She shook her head, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. "You're just… you're so sexy when you speak French."

The frown on my face suddenly morphed into a cocky smirk. "Am I now?"

"Yes, you are," she murmured, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she propped her elbows on the table and leaned towards me. "It makes me want to tie you up to the bed and never let you leave the hotel room again."

Imitating her posture, I placed my hands on top of hers and squeezed gently. "The pregnancy has made you insatiable."

"But you love it," she shot back boldly, now smiling like the Cheshire cat.

Chuckling, I tugged on her hands, bringing her to me until our faces were mere inches apart. "Indeed I do."

I kissed her, and she responded passionately, our fingers linking on top of the small table. For as long as the kiss lasted we were oblivious to everyone and everything around us. Then, sometime later, we were interrupted by a throat clearing, and we looked up to see our waiter standing there with our drinks.

After breakfast, we headed towards one of the grocery shops nearby, owned by an old lady named Madame Thibault. She and her grandson were the ones usually taking care of the shop, but today she was on her own. Her grandson Jean-Paul was off to Mauriac to get supplies.

Madame Thibault smiled at us welcomingly from behind the counter, her aged facial features brightening immediately. We had met the other day, so she knew we were tourists coming all the way from the US. And even though she spoke no English and Isabella barely understood French, she insisted on complimenting her beauty the same way she had done the first time she laid eyes on her. Isabella smiled politely but having no idea what the woman was saying to her, she looked at me questioningly. I translated for her, and she blushed, murmuring a shy 'merci' to which Madame Thibault answered with a knowing wink.

She went on, chatting with me animatedly, and I told her we wanted to have a picnic for lunch and we needed some cheese and fruits. In return, she whipped a red picnic basket out of nowhere and started loading it with two types of cheese, a baguette, grapes, strawberries, peaches and some chocolate cookies. We opted for grape juice instead of red wine, and she gave us a suspicious look before her gaze landed on Isabella's stomach and realization hit her. Needless to say that the avalanche of compliments and congratulations that followed was the most enthusiastic reaction I'd seen in a long time.

When we were done grocery shopping, we headed back to the hotel to change clothes and most importantly shoes. Then we climbed into the rented Renault SUV and drove out of the village at a leisurely speed in search of a place to have our picnic.

The car was filled with comfortable silence, and I reached over the gear shift to place my hand on Isabella's thigh. She smiled at me sweetly, linking our fingers together in her lap, and I turned my attention back on the curvy road ahead.

"Oh my God, Edward!" she suddenly yelled not even minutes later, squeezing my hand. "Stop the car!"

"What is it?" I asked panicked, slowing the car down immediately.

"Look there." She pointed out her window. "Cows!"

"Yes." I frowned, not seeing the danger in that. "And?"

She looked like an excited five year old as she clasped her hands in front of her and uttered her next words. "I've never seen a real cow before."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "You haven't?"

"No." She shook her head slowly, biting on her lip.

I sighed, knowing that I now had no other choice but to stop the car. I parked it next to a small ditch on the side of the road and helped Isabella out. As we made our way through the tall grass towards the herd of cattle, she couldn't seem to be able to reign in her giddiness.

"They're so cute," she gushed, squeezing my hand as her head turned from one side of the vast pasture to the other. "But I don't see anyone around. Shouldn't they be supervised or something? What if they run away?"

I chuckled, stopping at a safe distance and halting her with me. "They don't need supervision, baby. When the sun starts to set, they return to the village on their own."

"Really?" she sounded awed.

I nodded, smiling. "That's how they were taught, and now it's basically instinct. After roaming freely in pastures and eating grass all day long, they go home to drink water and get milked."

"How do you know this stuff?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been to the French countryside before."

"Of course you have." She rolled her eyes playfully, going back to watching the cows.

We stood silently for a little while, just watching the large animals ruminate, until Isabella unexpectedly let go of my hand and took a few steps forward.

"Oh, look, Edward, that cow has a baby!" she exclaimed, her eyes getting this strange glow I hadn't seen in them prior to the pregnancy. "And it has a blue bow around its neck, how cute is that? I wonder whether she'll get mad if I try to touch it."

"Let's not risk it," I said, quickly grabbing her wrist to stop her, and she scowled at me.

"But I want to touch the calf."

By the look she was giving me, I knew she was about to start a fight, so I wisely relented.

"Fine." I linked our fingers together, cautiously approaching the calf that didn't look to be more than a couple of weeks old, while keeping a vigilant eye on the mother. "Come on."

"They're so much bigger up close," Isabella whispered, and by the tone in her voice I could tell she was getting nervous.

"The Salers is a large breed. The female only stands approximately 4.6 feet tall but can weigh up to 1,700 lb. As you can see, they have a thick mahogany red coat and long lyre-shaped, light-colored horns, two characteristics that are specific to this breed, although, a small percentage of Salers cows are naturally born without horns," I explained, remembering what an old French merchant had once told me.

"Were you a farmer in a previous life?" she joked, glancing at me from her peripheral as we continued advancing slowly.

"First of all, I don't believe in reincarnation. Secondly, well, you know me, I have a curious nature. The first time I came to the Massif Central, I was twelve, so you can imagine my fascination with the cows I encountered here. I wanted to know everything about them. At some point, I even tried to mount one like a horse and almost gave my parents a heart attack in the process," I said, the distant memories causing a sense of melancholia inside me which I brushed away quickly, not wanting to put a damper on my day.

We stopped again, only a few feet away from the calf and its mother, and waited, not knowing how to proceed. I was afraid of angering the cow, but she just sat there, eating her grass and staring at us impassively. I was about to suggest we leave when the calf boldly made its way to us. It went straight to Isabella and began pushing its small head against her hip.

"He's a friendly little fella," I said, alternating between watching it and its mother. It went on, pushing against Isabella insistently, and I realized that it wasn't being friendly but territorial. "Or not."

Isabella chuckled at its feeble attempt to drive her away. "Hello," she said, reaching down to run her hand over its head and nose. "You're a boy, aren't you? Yes, you are. Are you trying to protect your mommy? Don't worry no one's going to hurt her."

I refrained from rolling my eyes at her monologue.

"Awww. His nose is so smooth and wet. He's so adorable." She sighed, glancing up at me. "Can we adopt him?"

"I don't think they'd let us put him on a plane so we could take it home with us," I said, watching as her face fell. "Besides," I rushed to add, knowing I had the supreme argument coming, "you wouldn't want to separate him from his mother, would you?"

"No." She shook her head, looking horrified at the mere thought.

I smiled, walking behind her and wrapping my arms around her belly. "Soon you'll have your own baby to gush over," I murmured in her ear, kissing her earlobe. "Our very own Edward Cullen Junior."

She turned around to face me, placing her hands on my biceps. "You really want him to be a boy, don't you?"

"I just have a feeling."

She smiled challengingly. "I say we're going to have a bouncing baby girl who's going to inherit your eyes and my hair."

My own smile spread into a grin. "You wanna bet?"

"Okay," she accepted, taking a step back and thrusting her hand forward. "Baby girl. Your eyes, my hair color."

"Baby boy, my hair color, your eyes," I went along, wrapping my hand around hers.

"We'll see in seven months," she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "What are we betting on?"

My grin got so big, my cheeks hurt. "If I win, you marry me and we make another baby."

She didn't even blink as she countered back. "If I win, I get to choose the house, without you having any say in the matter."

I had once mentioned moving into a bigger house when the baby was born, and she seemed to seriously consider it. Having Isabella move in with me had been one of the best decisions I had ever made, and I couldn't wait for our family to grow. I couldn't wait to hear the pitter patter of little feet as my son or daughter ran to greet me at the door after a long day at work while the smell of my wife's divine cooking assaulted my nostrils.

I laughed heartily, enjoying this little bet of ours. "Done."

~~ 0 ~~

Two days later, we were checking into our hotel in Monte Carlo. As we rode the elevator to the last floor where the Presidential Suite was located, Isabella fidgeted beside me, her excitement making her restless.

"I'm so excited to go to the beach," she said, giving me a sudden hug and my lips a noisy kiss. "I haven't been in forever."

I smiled and kissed her back, her good mood infectious. "I can barely wait to see you in a bikini."

"Mmm," she hummed flirtatiously, one of her hands rubbing my ass. "Tell me about it. I've never seen you in swimming trunks before. I bet you look hot."

I groaned, her ministrations causing my cock to spur to life. We couldn't reach our destination fast enough.

Once on the right floor, we stepped out of the elevator and she opened the door to our suite before going inside where our bags were already waiting. I followed, my eyes glued to her bare legs and perky ass as she glanced around, taking in her surroundings, before heading for the large windows overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

"Wow. I mean, just… wow. This hotel is amazing."

"The only hotel in Monte Carlo with its own private beach," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her. I couldn't care less about the hotel. All I was interested in was the location of the bedroom.

"Speaking of beaches..." She spun around, looking for our luggage. "I can't wait to try out my new bathing suits."

"Later," I said huskily, taking her into my arms and starting to kiss my way down her neck. I wanted her and I wanted her right that instant. She had been teasing me with her skimpy attire all day long, and I didn't plan on letting her leave our rooms before I'd had my fill of her.

She pushed against my chest, and I pulled her even closer to me. "No, not later, Edward. Now. It's already four o'clock. There won't be any sun later."

"Later," I insisted, burying my right hand into her lace panties from behind while my left one tugged at the thin straps covering her shoulders. "You look so hot in these platform sandals and short, short, short dress."

"It's not that short." She laughed breathlessly, trying to get away from my heated embrace.

"Come here, let me take it off," I panted, already worked up to an extreme. "I want you so badly right now."

Her laugh died down to a light chuckle as she pushed against me once more. "Let go."

With a frustrated groan, I obeyed, but kept my hands on her hips. "Please? You can't leave me like this," I said, nodding towards my crotch. "I'm going to be pitching a tent for the rest of the afternoon."

She shrugged, starting to walk away. "Sorry, but I'm really not in the mood right now. I'm going to the beach, with or without you."

"Can't we just rest for a little while?" I made a last desperate attempt, following her into the large master bedroom. "We barely got here."

She snorted unceremoniously. "Rest, yeah right. Sex has nothing to do with resting. I'm going to change."

As I watched her disappear into the bathroom, I let out a heavy sigh. I wanted to go to the beach as well, but I wanted her more. We had been going at it like jackrabbits since the beginning of our vacation, and I still couldn't seem to get enough of her. She was intoxicating.

Sometime later, we found ourselves at the hotel's private beach. We picked two of the few empty red lounge chairs and placed our towels on them. Isabella started undressing, and I watched, a bit mesmerized, as she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it carelessly on the back of her lounge. Her floral yellow bathing suit had a strapless bra that accentuated her much more generous breasts, while her bikini hung low on her hips, and my hands itched to touch her.

"Come here, let me rub some sun block on you," I said, motioning her over.

She pulled her hair up in a loose bun before making her way over to my lounge chair and turning her back to me. I grabbed the sunscreen and squirted some in my hand then spread it all over her upper back. I began massaging her soft skin, and she sighed as I felt her shoulders relax completely. When I was done with her back, I did her front, taking extra time to rub sun block on her stomach and inner thighs.

By the time there wasn't an inch of her skin left that I hadn't attended to, I was already sporting another erection.

"My turn," she said quietly, the ghost of a smile appearing on her lips as she looked down between us.

Her hands on me did nothing to make my problem go away, and when she said she wanted to do my back, I sat in front of her on the lounge chair and leaned forward until my face was pressed against her stomach and my hands were wrapped around her thighs.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I muttered as she made do with the new position we were in.

"A little," she answered, placing a kiss at the nape of my neck. "I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."

"You'd better," I said gruffly, squeezing the back of her thighs gently.

When she was finished torturing me with the softness on her hands, I decided I needed to cool off.

"I'm going into the sea," I said, getting up and reluctantly starting to unbutton my jeans, afraid that someone might see the protruding bulge in my swim trunks. "Do you want to come?"

"You go," she replied, stretching into her lounge chair. "I want to catch some sun first."

The water was warmer than I had expected, which was disappointing, given my condition. I wanted to dive under, but my back hadn't healed completely after the car accident, so I settled for a short swim, not wanting to strain myself too much.

I caught Isabella watching me from the shore, and I lifted my hand, waving at her. She waved back, and I smiled, the sight of her so relaxed and happy warming my heart.

Behind the hotel, the imposing Mont Angel made its presence known, and the panorama was absolutely breathtaking. Somewhere to my left was the main port with its permanent residents, the luxurious yachts and boats, symbols of the rich and famous.

Farther north into the sea, the loud noise of jet skis reached my ears, and I watched as they chased each other, thinking that I couldn't wait to do the same with Isabella. The week unfolding ahead of us was long enough for us to do anything we pleased, and I was hell bent on showing her why Monaco was such an appreciated destination for tourists all over the world.

About fifteen or twenty minutes later, I got out of the water and ordered a cold beer as a young waitress passed me by. As I toweled off, I shook my head in Isabella's direction, sending large droplets of water all over her. She let out a surprised squeal, throwing the book she had been reading at me, and I laughed, leaning down to capture her lips with mine.

I lay down next to her and placed my sunglasses on just as the waitress returned with my beer. Taking a large gulp, I noticed Isabella eying the bottle longingly.

"Do you want a sip?" I offered.

She swallowed and shook her head. "I shouldn't."

"A sip won't do you or the baby any harm. Besides, I can't have you eying the bottle like you are until I'm done with it."

She contemplated what to do for a moment then reached for it. Her lips barely touched the golden liquid before she was pushing the bottle into my hand.

I chuckled in amusement, linking our fingers together and kissing the back of her hand. She didn't even realize what an amazing mother she was going to be or how much she already loved our unborn baby.

"Look at all these women in skimpy bikinis," Isabella suddenly commented, drawing my attention to said women. "They are so… uninhibited. Who the heck wears a tiny g-string bikini at the beach and no top?"

"Europeans are a lot less self-conscious about their bodies than us Americans. Didn't you notice that most men here wear swim briefs?"

"Yeah, I mean look at that old guy in the purple Speedo." Her nose scrunched. "He shouldn't even be allowed to show that much skin. It's gross."

"The women look good though," I teased, watching her attentively.

As expected, her head whipped around as her blazing eyes narrowed at me. She opened her mouth to speak when my phone began ringing, and I reached for it, doing a double-take when I saw Emmett's number flashing on the screen.

"Yeah?" I answered tentatively.

"Hey. I just called because I need to take a look at the Sanchez file and I can't find it. I called Victoria but she's not answering her phone," he said quickly.

"It should be in my office, somewhere on the third shelf."

"Yeah, okay." He paused, his regular breathing and the sound of his heavy shoes hitting on a hard surface filling the awkward silence. "So…" he began after a few seconds. "How's France?"

He was making small talk.

It was… strange.

As soon as the shock wore off, I opted to play dumb and act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"We arrived in Monte Carlo today. The weather is really nice, so we're at the beach right now. I don't know about Isabella, but I for one am enjoying nature's beauties."

My joke was not well received. Isabella slapped my leg hard, and I winced, looking at her wide-eyed. She was fuming.

Emmett burst into laughter on the other side of the line, and it was the merriest sound I had heard from him in a long time. "I heard that. She's going to kick your ass for that comment. Pregnant women are fierce, man."

When I didn't reply immediately, he cleared his throat, going back to sounding impassive. "Well, I found the file. Have fun."

"Thanks," I murmured, still amazed that I had gotten such a reaction out of him.

As the line went dead, I shook my head, not knowing what to make of what had just transpired between me and my big brother. Turning my attention to Isabella once again, I saw that she was glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest. I leaned towards her, intending to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"I'm mad at you."

"What did I do?" I asked innocently.

"You know damn well what you did," she hissed.

"Oh, come on. I was just teasing you. You are the most beautiful woman on this beach."

She huffed, unimpressed with my compliment. "Nu-huh, you're not going to sweet-talk your way into my pants this time."

I smirked, running my hand up her smooth thigh. "You're not wearing any pants."

She slapped my hand away. "You know what I mean. Admit it; you were staring at that woman's breasts."

"I was not. Besides, yours are much nicer."

"So you were staring," her voice got dangerously high, and I blinked, realizing she was seriously mad at me.

"I wasn't staring, I merely glanced her way," I said, speaking the absolute truth. "What's up with you? Are you really angry with me because of an innocent joke?"

"Men are such pigs," she muttered, jumping to her feet and starting to stomp away. "I'm going into the water."

"Isabella!" I called after her, but she ignored me completely, not stopping until she was immersed in water to her waist.

With a sigh, I got up and followed after her. She was still glaring daggers at me as I headed over to her, but didn't protest this time when I pulled her to me and kissed her anger away.

"I love you," I whispered in her ear. "Only you."

"I love you, too," she replied, her hand disappearing into the water and creeping its way down my stomach until it settled on my crotch. She squeezed hard enough to cause discomfort, and I gasped at the unexpected attack.

She smiled sweetly, tightening her grip. "If you want to be able to have more children, don't ever even dare glancing in another woman's direction again. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," I strained, because she literally had me by my balls.

Her smile got wider. "Good. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, you were kissing me."

~~ 0 ~~

"This is so exciting," she confessed later that evening as we climbed the stairs to Monte Carlo's famous Grand Casino. "I've never been to a casino before."

We were both in the mandatory formal wear; me in a tux and her in a long black cocktail dress that hugged her curves splendidly.

"That's too bad," I said as we were escorted inside by a man in impeccable uniform. "But you can't come to Monte Carlo and not see the casino. World's richest moguls come here on a regular basis. This, my lovely Isabella, is the ultimate way to spend big money."

"Have you been here many times?" she asked, looking around as we passed through the large lobby that led to the grand hall.

The marble floor had an interesting black and white pattern while the ceiling was covered in intricate paintings. The opulence kind of reminded me of my parent's house, and I chuckled to myself quietly.

"Quite a few," I replied, winking conspiratorially. "I promise we're going to have fun."

The grand hall was full of people from all over the world dressed in pretentious outfits. Beside the regular French and English, I could detect a few other foreign languages being spoken like Russian, German, Japanese, Turkish and even Greek. The women's diamond jewelry was extravagant; catching your eye wherever you turned your head, and even I had to admit that the sight was a very glamorous one. Isabella was wearing the diamond earrings I had gotten her for Christmas, but they were nothing compared to the heavy karats these women had attached to their necks and wrists.

"Where do you want to try your luck first?" I asked.

"The roulette," she said, biting on her lip anticipatorily.

"The roulette it is," I agreed, placing my hand on the small of her back as I lead her towards the roulette table. "Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look in this dress?"

"About a thousand times."

"And I'm going to tell you a thousand times more. You are breathtaking."

She blushed. "The truth is… I actually feel beautiful in this dress. Thank you for buying it for me."

"You are beautiful and you have nothing to thank me for. My money is yours, you know that. You can buy whatever you want whenever you want."

If my comment bothered her, she didn't say anything. Instead she made her way through the people standing at the roulette table and reached behind her to take my hand. "You're going to have to explain the rules to me."

The croupier nodded at us in acknowledgement, going back to spinning the wheel. The white ball landed on 26 black and a low appreciative murmur echoed around the table.

"First of all, you have to purchase special roulette chips when you sit down to play. As you can see, each player receives a different color chip to avoid disputes. Each roulette table has a minimum and maximum bet. In this case the minimum bet is €10 and the maximum bet is €1000. You can make inside or outside bets. Placing inside bets is either selecting the exact number of the pocket the ball will land, or a small range of pockets based on their proximity on the layout. A straight-up bet is a wager on a single number while a split bet is a wager on two numbers. A street bet is when the chip is placed on the vertical line separating the inside and outside betting areas. When you make a corner bet it's done by placing a chip so that it's touching the four corners of the numbers you are betting..."

I went on, explaining the different type of bets she could make.

"I think I got it," she interrupted me at some point. "But, Edward, these people are betting large sums. Maybe you should play."

"Nonsense," I said gently, taking out my wallet and giving the croupier two five hundred Euro bills in exchange for chips.

"Are you insane?" Isabella gaped at me. "That's way too much money."

The other people at the table gave us strange looks, and I frowned, silently telling her that I was displeased with her unnecessary scolding.

She seemed to get the message because she blushed furiously, averting her gaze.

The croupier asked for denomination, and I broke the chips in ten, fifty and one hundred Euros before taking my place behind Isabella.

"Just play," I said in her ear, my voice firm. "It doesn't matter if you win or lose."

Reluctantly, she studied the layout, finally deciding to make an even bet. When all the bets were placed, the croupier spun the wheel once again, and the ball landed on four black. Isabella's eyes widened as she let out a surprised gasp.

"Oh my God, I won!" she exclaimed, and the others, including the croupier, applauded politely because it was her first time playing.

"Keep it up." I grinned, rubbing circles against her hipbones. "I have a good feeling about this."

In the following half an hour she had already won three hundred Euros, and I was getting thirsty, my throat parched from encouraging her vehemently.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I inquired at some point, tapping her shoulder.

"Yeah, um, just get me whatever doesn't have alcohol in it," she replied distractedly.

When I came back from the bar, I was carrying a scotch for me and an alcohol-free cocktail for her. I drank, she played, and after quite a few outstanding winnings, she was starting to lose, which was enough to make her back down.

"I think I'm done here," she sighed resignedly.

"You did great for a first time player," I comforted before asking the croupier to change our chips so we could leave the table.

"You, Mr. Cullen, are now six hundred thirty-five Euros richer," she said smugly as we walked away.

I shook my head. "Your luck, your money."

"The money's yours, Edward. I just played for fun."

"Yours," I insisted, giving her a look that said I wasn't to be argued with. "Do whatever you want with it. Please let's not start an argument over this, okay? Just take it."

"Fine, fine," she relented, knowing she wasn't going to win this. "It's your turn to play."

"Let's try the poker table," I suggested. "You'll be my lucky charm."

Hours later, as I was about to help a laughing Isabella into the rented Mercedes, she spun around abruptly and kissed me hard, her nails digging into my scalp as she grabbed at my hair.

"My God, tonight has been amazing," she breathed dreamily, proceeding to pepper light kisses across my jaw. "I never knew gambling was so much fun. I want to do it again and again and again…"

"Easy there Dostoevsky," I laughed and her brow furrowed.

"Who?"

"Dostoevsky. Aside from being one of Russia's most influential novelists, he was also an avid gambler. I thought you knew this."

She shrugged. "I didn't."

"Now you do." I smiled, smoothing my palm over her pinned-up hair. "So, where to now, Miss Swan, soon-to-be Mrs. Cullen?"

She rolled her eyes at me petulantly, taking my hand and placing it on her belly. "The baby's craving chocolate cake."

"Well then, I have an idea."

Driving back to the hotel, I led her straight to the beach, making a quick stop at the reception area to ask if we could have room service delivered outside. The receptionist was more than accommodating, promising to have our order delivered to us in less than ten minutes.

We sat on a lounge chair, this time a bit farther away from the sea, and I took off my jacket to drape it across Isabella's shoulders.

"The sea is so beautiful at night," she noted as I sat behind her and took her in my arms. "I feel like going in again."

"The water's too cold at this hour of night," I reasoned with a low chuckle.

She chuckled back. "You're right. But I still feel like going in."

"Aren't you tired?" I inquired after a brief pause, stealing a glance at my watch. "It's two forty-five in the morning and you've been falling asleep well before eleven o'clock for more than a week now."

"I am a bit tired," she admitted, her body giving a light shiver, "but I don't want to go back to our room just yet. I like it here."

"You're shivering."

"I'm fine." She turned her head to smile at me before letting out a sigh. "I love this. Us… together… happy."

"Mmhmm," I hummed in agreement, tightening my hold on her and kissing her temple. "This is definitely nice."

A few minutes of utter silence stretched between us, the only noise coming from the agitated sea in front of us. Then Isabella angled her body so that she was looking at me with large fearful eyes.

"Promise me you'll never allow anyone to drive us apart," she pleaded. "Promise me we'll always be this happy."

I was taken aback by her plea but smiled nonetheless, attributing it to her hormones.

"I promise," I said in a soothing voice, trying to calm her fears. "You and this baby are my life now. I will fight for our family, regardless of the consequences. Nothing and no one is going to tear us apart."

I didn't have time to find out whether she believed me or not because the next thing I know her face morphed into a disgusted expression. "Ugh, what is that smell?"

"What smell?" I asked, glancing around to identify the source although I didn't smell anything.

"It smells like… flowers," she replied slowly, distaste rolling off her tongue.

In the short time we had been there, another couple had showed up on the beach. The woman, a short blonde woman, was straddling the man's lap while a large bouquet of pink hyacinths dangled from her left hand. She leaned over to kiss him, both of them chuckling at something he'd said.

"That woman over there is holding a hyacinth bouquet, but how can you…" I started to say, knowing they were too far away for Isabella to smell the flowers. I didn't get to finish my sentence because Isabella suddenly covered her mouth with her hand and jumped to her feet.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Her voice was muffled as she whirled around and rushed over to the sea, dropping to her knees into the water.

"Isabella!" I yelled, running after her.

I fell to my knees behind her and held her as she emptied her stomach. The cold water was soaking my skin through my dress pants, and I knew I had to get Isabella out of there as soon as possible.

"Mon Dieu!" (My God!) The blonde woman screamed as both she and her husband rushed to Isabella's aid. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Mademoiselle, vous vous sentez mal?" (What's happening? Miss, are you feeling ill?)

"Tell her to get those away from me," Isabella moaned, referring to the flowers she was still holding.

"Elle est enceinte," (She's pregnant,) I said, doing my best not to sound hostile but failing horribly. "Le parfum des fleurs lui donne la nausée." (The flowers' perfume gives her nausea.)

"Oh." She took a step back, looking at the offensive flowers horrified. "Je suis désolée." (I'm sorry.)

They both scurried off, stopping only to grab the woman's purse from the lounge chair before disappearing inside the hotel.

"Are you alright?" I asked, helping Isabella to her feet when she was done vomiting. The lower half of her long dress was now heavy with salty water and my dress pants weren't doing better either.

"Yeah." She nodded, keeping her mouth covered with one hand. "I hate when this happens."

"Come on, let's get you to bed," I suggested, crunching down to lift her into my arms bridal style. "You've had a tiring day, and I bet that right now you want nothing more than to rinse your mouth and get rid of that awful taste."

"This is your fault," she murmured, burying her face into my shirt.

"How is it my fault?"

"You're the one who knocked me up."

I smiled at her grouchiness indulgently. "How about I give you a nice, relaxing foot massage?"

She looked up and grinned slyly. "Now you're talking."

On our way inside, we passed a waiter who was just bringing us our order. I told him to bring it upstairs to our suite, and he obliged, not before making sure Isabella was okay and didn't need a doctor.

Once upstairs, we both undressed and slid into bed as I began massaging Isabella's feet. She was fast asleep before I even had time to move from her right foot to her left one, so I tucked her in then headed to the small kitchenette for a glass of water. When I came back into the bedroom, I stood beside the bed, watching her sleep.

The fact that she was part of my life still amazed me. I couldn't believe how far we had gotten since the first time we ran into each other at Starbucks almost a year prior.

I had never thought I was going to get another chance at happiness after Tanya's death, and yet, here she was; loving me and giving me the most precious gift a woman could ever give a man.

I could never thank faith enough for putting her in my path. She made me feel things I had never felt in my ten years of marriage, and I prayed that our relationship would always remain this strong.

She was my lover, friend, and confident, and the only word I could use to properly describe how I felt since she had made her way into my heart was…

… blessed.

A/N Thanks for reading!

Leave me some love :)

~ Andreea ~