Nora's POV
"Holy hell," Antonia breathes when I descend the staircase in my evening attire. "You look absolutely incredible." I chose not to don the elegant dress before our journey from Vivian Hill to Chicago. Traffic proved brutal, and with Zerra occupying the rear of the Range Rover, James spent the entire drive muttering complaints about pet hair and saliva contaminating his precious leather upholstery. Not that I ever suggested taking my Jeep, mind you—a vehicle I wouldn't mind seeing covered in fur or slobber.
"I can't decide if that shocked expression is flattering or offensive." I narrow my gaze, taking the final steps. "It's almost like you never expected me to clean up well."
"Honestly? I didn't," she confesses, and her brutal honesty never fails to amuse me. "You're attractive, sure, but you're also very pregnant."
"Now that definitely stings."
