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

She shook her head. ‘Not a clue.’

‘Then I’ll spell it out: we will be a family.’

The bad feeling in her stomach coalesced into straightforward panic. ‘I have all the family I need.’ He wasn’t…he just couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was!

‘A family requires both parents. You and Nicky will come back to Greece with me and we will be a family.’

A hoarse laugh was drawn from Georgie’s aching throat. ‘And to think I used to be intimidated by your vast intellect. You know, mostly I was scared stiff of giving an opinion in case you laughed at me.’

Angolos looked so appalled by this confidence that under less fraught circumstances she might have laughed.

‘But now I know that you may be clever, but you’re also stark staring crazy. Me live with you again…? The only way you’ll get me back to Greece is in a strait-jacket.’

‘You’re speaking emotionally without considering—’

‘I don’t need to consider anything. I recognise insanity when I hear it.’

Until he captured her wrists in his she wasn’t aware that she had been tugging at her own hair. ‘Calm down. You’re overreacting.’

He acknowledged her snarling, ‘shut up!’ with an infuriatingly tolerant smile.

‘Once you’ve thought about it—’ he continued talking across her demand to be let go! ‘—I think you’ll come to appreciate that this is the right thing to do. Sometimes being a parent involves sacrifice.’

He really was incredible. ‘You’re telling me that? Know a lot about being a parent, do you? Gosh, share your wisdom, I’m all ears,’ she begged.

Her sarcasm drew a soft expletive from his lips. ‘You are—’ A dark line appeared across the slashing curve of his cheekbones as he swallowed the rest of his furious retort. ‘You can mock as much as you like.’ The fingers encircling her wrists tightened and then, much to her intense relief, fell away completely.

‘Thanks, but I don’t need your permission.’

‘But,’ he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, ‘it doesn’t alter the fact that a child needs both parents.’

‘I can tell you from personal experience that you can get by perfectly well with one.’

‘You have your stepmother.’

Her brows lifted. ‘And who’s to say that at some future date Nicky won’t have a stepfather…?’

There was a short, stark silence, during which the muscles in Angolos’s brown throat rippled convulsively. Then, capturing her defiant eyes, he smiled and lifted his dark head to an imperious angle. ‘I am to say,’ he responded simply.

The scornful retort died on her lips as she encountered the chilling determination in his unblinking eyes.

‘So now you’re going to vet my boyfriends, are you? I’d be interested in how that works.’

‘This isn’t about you. This is about what is best for our son.’

More absurd than him trying to make her feel guilty and selfish was the fact she actually did! ‘I’ve been doing the best for our son for the past three years. What have you been doing for him? On second thoughts, you staying out of his life probably was the biggest favour you could do him.’

He visibly paled in response to her vitriolic attack, but didn’t attempt to defend himself. ‘I can understand your anger.’

‘I doubt that, I really doubt that,’ she gritted. ‘And besides, I don’t want your understanding.’ What did she want from him? Was she going to be happier if he walked away? She fixed him with a resentful glare. ‘I wish you’d never come.’

‘Has it occurred to you that you are denying him his heritage?’

This change of tack increased her growing sense of unease. ‘You’re the one who denied him that. Besides, Nicky is per fectly happy where he is.’

‘He doesn’t even speak his own language.’

‘His language is English.’ She winced to hear both the defensiveness and doubt in her voice.

‘Nicky is half Greek. He will only have to look in the mirror to see that.’

‘I’m not trying to hide his heritage from him.’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘No, I’m not. I would never lie to my son.’

‘Our son.’

Gritting her teeth, Georgie refused to respond to the correction.

‘He will know when he goes to school that he does not look like the fair-skinned children in his class. What will you say when he asks you why he is different?’

‘You obviously know very little about the ethnic mix in most schools, if you think that Nicky will stand out. Have you never heard of a multicultural society?’

One dark brow angled. ‘So what will you do when he asks about me?’

‘I…I haven’t thought about it.’

‘Don’t you think it’s about time you did?’

She lifted her resentful eyes to his. ‘Nicky’s happy,’ she contended stubbornly.

Angolos studied her face. ‘You know I’m right, don’t you, Georgette?’ Before she had a chance to deny his assertion he added, ‘And I can see that Nicky is happy.’

Her hopes rose, only to be dashed.

‘However, I will not permit my son to be brought up not knowing who his father is…thinking that he is unwanted…’ He swallowed hard, the muscles of his throat contracting as he visibly struggled to control his feelings. ‘The boy is being brought up surrounded by women…’

‘And what’s wrong with women?’

His face relaxed briefly into a slow smile. ‘I like women…’

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ And they liked him. Everywhere they had gone together women’s eyes had followed him—that he had seemed for the most part oblivious to the fact had been no comfort to her at the time.

‘But a boy needs a male role model?’

Feeling increasingly on the defensive because of his uncomfortable ability to come up with a reply for everything she said, Georgie set her chin on her steepled fingers. ‘There are plenty of men in Nicky’s life.’