His Pregnant Bride: Pregnant by the Greek Tycoon / His Pregnant Princess / Pregnant: Father Needed. Robyn Donald

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СКАЧАТЬ the fact I came from a different world than you part of the attraction?’ he challenged. ‘You put me on a pedestal!’ he accused. ‘And I exploited it.’

      ‘I didn’t feel exploited.’ She didn’t like the idea his comment created that she’d been some sort of victim walking blindly to her fate.

      ‘The moments from our time together that remain clearly in my mind are not the lavish parties or dinners.’

      ‘What are they, then?’ She was probably going to regret asking, but if she didn’t the question would plague her for the rest of her life.

      ‘That picnic we had sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor…’

      Georgie’s eyes widened. It had been the one time when she had dared the wrath of the kitchen staff and made a personal request. When asked what sort of wine she’d wanted with her fish-paste sandwiches she had said any old thing would do…white and fizzy maybe…?

      The horror etched on the face of the chef had been comical.

      Of course the sandwiches had been smoked salmon, the wine had been champagne, and the cutlery Georgian silver, but she hadn’t quibbled. Instead she had pronounced herself delighted, and thanked the staff warmly.

      ‘You remember that?’ she asked, astonished.

      ‘Of course I damn well remember. I also remember what followed it—more so…’ He studied her unblinkingly through eyes that contained an explicitly sexual message.

      It was a message that Georgie received. The pupils of her eyes dilated dramatically until they almost swallowed up the amber. Breathing fast and shallow, she traced the outline of her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and drew a long shuddering breath. Her hand came up in a fluttery gesture and then fell away again, leaving her fingers trailing in the sand.

      ‘Do you…?’

      ‘You know I do.’ She screwed up her eyes and tried to ignore the slick heat between her thighs. ‘We had some good times,’ she admitted huskily.

      ‘A bit better than good.’

      He was right. Good was safe and comfortable; what they had enjoyed had been neither. ‘Think about it, Angolos,’ she appealed to him. The glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t in the mood for thinking. ‘Nothing has changed, not essentially. You came here to get a divorce.’

      This did get his attention.

      ‘I came here to find out the truth,’ he rebutted.

      ‘And I bet you wish you hadn’t found it.’

      ‘Wishes do not enter into it,’ he told her, his voice low and controlled. ‘I have a son… Dios mio!’ he gasped, no longer the least bit controlled. His blazing eyes locked with hers. ‘My life has changed profoundly. If you imagine even for one second that I would prefer to live in ignorance you are insane. I have a son. I may be slow but I do recognise a miracle when I see one.’

      ‘You can have more children. Like I said, go and have a baby with someone else,’ she recommended, fixing him with a belligerent glare. ‘That’s what you really want,’ she contended. ‘Nicky already has a family.’

      She knew enough Greek to recognise that the low, impassioned flood that issued from his lips would have been severely censored by even the most liberal of censors. ‘You think a solution would be for me to go away and impregnate another woman?’

      ‘Frankly I’m amazed you haven’t already. Or,’ she added with a sneer, ‘have you been waiting to be officially single?’

      His nostrils flared as he scanned her face with distaste. ‘Yes.’

      In the act of brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face, Georgie froze. All expression was wiped from her face. ‘I take it that is some kind of joke.’

      ‘Actually, no, it isn’t. I take the matrimonial vows quite seriously.’

      ‘Oh, really? Your vows mentioned a bit of cherishing, and I seem to recall when you chucked me out there wasn’t much cherishing involved. Don’t feel bad about it,’ she said. ‘Some good came out of it. I have to admit, after not having a say in my own life it came as quite a shock being alone. But I know how to stand on my own feet now.’

      Quivering with hurt and fury, she proved the point by standing up in one graceful motion.

      The anger in his face was replaced by a grim frustration as he looked at her. Georgie was weeping uncontrollably. There was no resistance in her slim body as he gathered her into his arms.

      ‘Things will be fine now.’

      Georgie, who didn’t feel as if anything would ever be fine, lifted her head. ‘How do you figure that?’

      He took her chin in his fingers. ‘Look at me, yineka mou.’

      ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’ she returned with a sniff.

      ‘I will learn to be a halfway decent husband.’

      His dark eyes lingered on her face and Georgie shifted uneasily. The movement resulted in one of his heavily muscled thighs becoming wedged between her legs. Painfully aware of the lean, hard length of the body so close to her own, she shivered.

      ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ It occurred to her that from a distance they would look to passers-by like lovers embracing.

      ‘Deadly serious.’ His thumb moved to the full curve of her lush lower lip. Georgie swayed, nailed to the spot by a wave of intense longing.

      ‘This isn’t fair,’ she whispered.

      ‘I love your mouth. I always did…’

      Georgie swallowed hard. ‘I don’t think my mouth is relevant to this conversation.’

      His restless glance continued to move hungrily over her soft features. ‘At night I think about your sweet lips on my body and I ache. I ache for you.’

      He thought about…he ached for her…! And she ached for him too.

      She felt his warm breath touch her sensitive earlobe and sighed, fast losing the fight against the raw urgency that coursed through her pliant body.

      Angolos must have sensed her surrender because she could hear the male triumph in his voice as he promised, ‘It will be even better than it was when we are together…’

      She turned her head and their lips were almost touching when his comment penetrated. With a cry of disgust she pulled away, breathing hard. ‘You are such a control freak!’ she accused, backing away with her hand pressed to her throat. Her skin felt hot and sticky. ‘Well, your tactics won’t work this time.’

      ‘Firstly, it wasn’t a tactic.’

      She focused on his face and saw that there was a damp sheen to his olive-toned skin that made it glisten; the heat in his eyes was fading, leaving a raw frustration in its place.

      She decided СКАЧАТЬ