The Greek Tycoon's Pregnant Wife

‘Tell me about it.’ Jane tried to sound sardonic. ‘How are you, Demetri? Still as impatient as ever, I see.’

‘Theos, I have been patient, ghineka. Now, are you going to open up, or must I break down this—’ there was a pause while he obviously endeavoured to control his anger ‘—this door?’

Jane’s jaw took on a stubborn curve. She badly wanted to call his bluff. Only the embarrassment she would suffer if he made good on his threat deterred her, and without another word she jabbed a finger onto the button.

There was a low buzz as the door downstairs was released and then the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Heavy footsteps, climbing the stairs with a speed that had her retreating to the far side of the living room. She’d left the door ajar and, although she told herself she didn’t care what he thought of her, it occurred to her belatedly that she hadn’t even brushed her hair since she’d tumbled so unexpectedly out of bed.

She was finger-combing it behind her ears when Demetri appeared in the doorway. Tall and lean, with the thick dark hair of his ancestors, he too looked older, she reassured herself. But despite the threads of grey at his temples, his face, with its familiar trace of dark stubble, was tougher, harder than she remembered, but just as attractive.

His presence had lost none of its impact, reminding her of the day he strode into the gallery, looking for his father. When the old man had introduced them he’d been polite, but hardly flattering, treating her with a cool indifference she’d half resented then.

Now Demetri paused in the doorway, and then stepped into the apartment. So this was where she lived, he thought broodingly. He’d heard she was doing well at her job. He couldn’t help admiring the huge expanse of living space that swept from the front to the back of the old Victorian building. The sun pouring in from the windows at each end filling the place with a watery light.

But for all his irritation at the way she’d kept him waiting outside, it was to Jane that his eyes were irresistibly drawn. She stood the width of the room away, her arms wrapped protectively about herself. She was wearing a silk robe that she was holding tightly around her. As if he’d threatened her, he reflected, disliking the notion. For pity’s sake, what was she expecting him to do? Jump her bones?

‘Jane,’ he said, before that idea could take hold and destroy his detachment, and her lips, which she’d been pressing together, relaxed a little. She looked good, he thought unwillingly. Too good to a man who was planning to marry another woman as soon as he was free. But then, Jane had always had that effect on him. It was why he’d married her, for God’s sake. Why he’d been so reluctant to find another woman to take her place.

Why his mother had been so opposed to him doing this himself!

‘Demetri,’ Jane responded stiffly, and when he leaned against the door to close it she stood a little taller, as if bracing herself for whatever was to come.

She wasn’t wearing any make-up, of course, and he suspected the colour in her cheeks owed more to a mental rather than a physical source. Green eyes, which used to haunt his sleep, as clear as the mountain-fed lakes on Kalithi.

‘How have you been?’ he asked, straightening away from the door, and Jane’s mouth went a little dry when he moved further into the room. He had an indolent grace of movement that made anything he wore look like a designer item, though she guessed the casual cargo pants and black leather jacket were the real thing.

He was still wearing his wedding ring, she noticed. The wedding ring she’d bought him when they’d exchanged their vows in the small chapel on Kalithi, the island his family owned and where he lived when he wasn’t flying around the world attending to the demands of his shipping empire. His father had retired before they’d married, much against his mother’s wishes. But then, she’d never wanted Demetri to marry an English girl, particularly one who had opinions of her own.

‘I’m OK,’ she said now, forcing a tight smile. ‘Tired, of course. But then, I haven’t had much sleep in the last twenty-four hours.’

‘And I woke you up?’ Demetri came to stand beside one of a pair of mulberry printed sofas that faced each other across a taupe rug. It was the only floor covering at this end of the room, the stripped maple floor requiring little adornment. A dark brow arched in reluctant apology. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Are you?’ Jane gave an indifferent shrug. ‘So, do you want to tell me what you’re doing here, Demetri? You didn’t come here just to pass the time of day. You said it was important.’

Demetri averted his eyes, concentrating instead on his fingers massaging one of the sofa cushions. ‘It is,’ he said flatly. Then he lifted his head again, giving her a look out of night-dark eyes, causing a shiver of apprehension to slide down her spine. ‘I want a divorce, Jane. Is that straight enough for you?’

CHAPTER TWO (#u589405a5-4aa9-5745-978d-97b0f454879c)

NOW it was Jane’s turn to look away from his cold stare. Despite her best efforts, she was trembling, and she hoped like hell that he couldn’t see it.

It wasn’t a total shock to her, of course. For years after their separation she’d lived with the very real expectation that sooner or later Demetri was going to want his freedom. She was sure his mother would persuade him, if no one else. And she’d wanted it, too, in those days. But somehow, with the passage of time, she’d actually begun to believe that it was never going to happen.

‘You OK?’

Dammit, he had noticed. And he was coming across the room towards her. Jane had to get out of there, and fast, before he started feeling sorry for her. She didn’t think she could bear that.

‘Let me get dressed,’ she said, speaking without breathing, knowing that if she sucked in a gulp of air the sobs that were rising in her throat would choke her.

‘Janie…’

The name he used to call her when he was making love to her was almost her undoing. ‘Just give me a minute,’ she said and, opening the door into her bedroom, she closed it firmly behind her.

But once she was alone, she couldn’t prevent the storm of emotion that engulfed her. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and, with her nose running too, she groped her way across the room to the bathroom. Grabbing a handful of tissues from the box she kept there, she endeavoured to staunch the salty flow, sinking down onto the toilet seat and burying her face in her hands.

‘Agapita—’

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there when he spoke. Dear God! Her head jerked up in disbelief. Demetri was standing in the bathroom doorway watching her and she knew she’d never felt so humiliated in her life.

‘Get out!’ she choked, struggling to get to her feet. ‘How—how dare you come in here? You have no right to invade my privacy like this.’

Demetri merely sighed and propped his shoulder against the frame of the door. Then he regarded her with disturbing gentleness. ‘I dare because I care about you,’ he said, his accent thickening with emotion. ‘Theos, Janie, how was I to know you’d react like this? I’d have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your life.’

Jane sniffed. ‘I am.’

‘It looks like it.’

‘Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Demetri. I’ve just flown halfway around the world and I’m exhausted.’ It was an effort but she managed a tight smile. ‘It was a shock. I don’t deny it. But I’m not crying because I’m—heartbroken. Far from it.’

Demetri didn’t look convinced. ‘So—what? You usually break down like this when you get back from a trip? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Don’t be even more of a jerk than you have to be,’ Jane retorted, struggling to regain a little of her composure. ‘OK. What do you want me to say, Demetri? That I’m—crushed? Desolated? That hearing the arrogant louse I married is going to inflict himself on some other poor female has devastated me?’ She managed a harsh laugh. ‘Don’t hold your breath.’

Despite himself, Demetri was angered by her words. He’d come to find her with the best of intentions, he told himself, and now here she was, tearing his good will to shreds. That was so like Jane: shooting first and regretting it later. Only something told him that this time she wasn’t about to back down.

He straightened. ‘You’re an ungrateful bitch, do you know that?’ he snapped, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

‘So you’ve told me,’ she retorted, scrubbing her cheeks with the tissues one last time before flushing them down the lavatory.

‘Well, perhaps you ought to curb your tongue,’ he muttered. ‘My lawyer tells me that in the circumstances, I don’t have to offer you anything by way of a settlement.’

Jane’s lips parted. ‘I don’t want your money. I never did!’ she exclaimed scornfully. ‘Just get out of here. I want to get dressed.’

Demetri stared at her. For all her air of bravado, he was fairly sure she wasn’t half as confident as she was trying to appear. Those incredible green eyes still shimmered with unshed tears, and her mouth—the mouth he’d kissed so many times—couldn’t quite hide its tremor.

And, although her words had irritated him beyond all reason, he found himself saying, ‘If that’s what you want?’

‘What else is there?’

Tilting her head up to his, Jane stared back at him and he felt an unwilling twinge of admiration for the way she was handling herself now. A twinge of admiration, yes—and something else, something he didn’t even want to put a name to. Something that had him suddenly moving to close the space between them.

The bath was at her back and Jane had nowhere to go. So when he put out his hand and looped his fingers behind her neck, she could only stand there and let him look down at her with what she was sure was a mixture of amusement and derision in his eyes.

‘How about this?’ he suggested, his voice rougher than before, and, before she could anticipate what he was about to do, he’d bent towards her and covered her mouth with his.

Jane didn’t know how she stopped her legs from buckling beneath her. It was so long since Demetri had touched her, so long since she’d felt those long fingers against her skin. Heat was coming off him in waves, enveloping her in its sensual embrace, and, although she’d determined not to close her eyes, seeing the closeness of his long lashes, the dusky shadow of his jawline, she so much wanted to do so and sink into his kiss.

But how could that be? A moment ago they’d been dumping on one another, and now—now she was letting him touch her, kiss her, push his thigh between her legs as if she wasn’t throbbing there already.

It had to be because she’d been crying, she told herself, trying to rationalise something that refused to be rationalised. She was always twice as emotional when she’d been crying and Demetri knew that very well. Oh, yes, who better? He’d made her cry so many times before…