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

She released a hiss of frustration through clenched teeth. ‘You’ve no intention of telling me, have you?’

The disturbing smile that played around the corners of his sensual lips neither confirmed nor denied her husky accusation. ‘Walk…?’

‘Walk?’ In contrast to the restive energy that Angolos was projecting, she felt utterly drained.

‘You know—put one foot in front of the other.’

It really ought to be that simple, but her shaking knees didn’t have the strength or co-ordination to move her from the spot. ‘You’re impossible,’ she accused.

‘But cute?’ he suggested.

She only just stopped herself responding to his smile. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say “cute”.’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘No.’

One winged dark brow arched. ‘No to cute or a walk?’

‘Both.’ She sat down rather hurriedly.

‘As you wish.’

Angolos followed suit but with less haste and considerably more grace. As she tucked her knees under herself and arranged her skirt around her legs Georgie was aware of his dark eyes watching her. She was aware of just about everything about him, including the warm male scent that made her oversensitive nostrils twitch.

‘Don’t try and charm me, Angolos. I’ve got immunity. Anyway, you’ve no need to butter me up. Like I said, I already know what this is about.’

Her head lifted, their eyes connected. Angolos’s expression was wary; it cost her a supreme effort to smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to make a fuss, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Angolos looked at the envelope she handed him but made no effort to take it.

‘I think I’ve signed all the places I need to.’

He still didn’t react, just carried on looking at it with a total lack of recognition in his eyes.

‘For heaven’s sake.’ She leant across and deposited it in his lap. ‘I found it, it must have fallen out of your pocket. Did you think you’d lost it?’

He took the envelope and turned it over in his hand cautiously as though he expected it to burst into flames. Georgie found his manner bewildering.

‘Dios, I had totally forgotten about this.’ After his meeting with Paul he had contacted his lawyer. The papers were already prepared; they had been for two years.

‘How long will it take to be…final? The d…divorce.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANGOLOS’S glance lifted to Georgie’s face. There was a strange look in his deep-set eyes that she couldn’t interpret. ‘Never!’

The forcefulness of his explosive retort made her stare at him in confusion. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Then understand this.’ Georgie gave a grunt of shock as he began to tear the envelope into pieces with slow, deliberate thoroughness before tossing them up into the air.

She watched in open-mouthed astonishment as the fragments went flying down the beach in several directions, drifting like confetti on the air currents.

‘Have you gone mad?’ She turned her astounded eyes on him. ‘Why make the effort to bring that here personally and then do that?’

‘I never intended…’

‘Never intended what?’ she prompted.

His jaw tightened. ‘We’re not getting divorced.’

She pressed her hands to her head, the dull throb in her temples had turned into a blinding headache. ‘But you came here to…and I want to get divorced!’ she added on a note of escalating misery.

‘Too bad.’

‘You want to get divorced.’ The squally sea breeze suddenly caught her skirt and lifted it. It took her several moments to smooth it back down, and when she looked up she saw something in his eyes that made her sensitive stomach flip.

‘You saw Paul at his surgery.’

Georgie didn’t want to talk about Paul. ‘So that’s how you knew we were here.’

Angolos inclined his dark head.

‘I know some people think strong and silent is attractive, but ask them how they feel about it after they’ve lived with strong and silent for a few weeks. I think you’d find they’d have changed their tune,’ she predicted grimly. ‘For goodness’ sake, don’t just look all brooding and beautiful—saysomething!’

His only response to her emotional outburst was a raised eyebrow—one of these days she would swing for this man.

‘What would you like me to say?’

‘I give up!’ she declared. She slid an exasperated sideways glance at his lean, saturnine profile. ‘What were you doing discussing me with Paul anyway?’ she demanded crossly. ‘He has no right to discuss me; there’s such a thing as patient confidentiality.’

Angolos dismissed her complaint with an impatient motion of his hand. ‘I’m your husband.’

‘On paper.’ Paper that was even now blowing across the ocean…her divorce would probably end up in Normandy. ‘And even if we were together, that doesn’t give you a right to know my medical details.’

‘He didn’t divulge any private details, medical or otherwise,’ Angolos cut in impatiently. ‘He told me I have a son.’

She dug her toe into the sand and vented an ironic laugh. ‘That was news…?’

‘To me it was.’

‘How can you say that?’

He ignored her exasperated exclamation. ‘Now I know that Nicky is mine, obviously things must change.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Two words I’m not liking there… “must” and “change”.’

‘Don’t be obtuse, Georgette. You know where I’m going with this.’