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

‘I’m not an impressionable kid. Getting me into bed won’t change my mind.’

‘It might make you feel less frustrated, however.’ Georgie was about to respond angrily to this supremely arrogant suggestion, when he added, ‘I know it would make me feel less frustrated. Where you are concerned I’ve never had any self-control…’ He watched her eyes widen with shock and his lips twisted in a self-derisive smile. ‘You haven’t the faintest idea what it does to me to be this close to you and not touch…’ he said thickly.

A surge of heat travelled through her body. ‘Tell me…’ she demanded throatily, then almost immediately started to backtrack as though her life depended on it. ‘No…no, I didn’t mean that.’

He responded to her denial with a disturbing smile. ‘Are you sure?’ His smouldering glance dropped to her parted lips.

Georgie heard a soft moan and realised with a sense of shock that she had made it. Ashamed of the desire that drenched her shaking body in a wave of intense sexual heat, she tried to turn away, but her knees gave and she stumbled.

His arm shot out to steady her. Heads close together, their eyes meshed. ‘Do you like the idea of me wanting to touch you, Georgette?’

An image of the last time they’d made love flashed into her head. He had walked into the bedroom and she hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t known he was there until she’d turned around and found him standing with his shoulders against the door-frame, staring at her.

He’d looked so immaculate in an open-necked shirt and tailored trousers that she’d immediately wished that she had not delayed taking her shower. ‘How long have you been there?’ He didn’t reply, just carried on looking at her. ‘I was clearing out the drawers of this—’

He levered himself off the door and moved unhurriedly towards her, tall, lean and shockingly sexy. ‘There are people to do that sort of things.’

He reached her side in seconds, and since his eyes had locked onto hers his unwavering stare had not left her face for an instant.

‘I keep forge—’

The rest of her sentence remained unspoken as he bent forward and, taking her face between his hands, he fitted his mouth to hers. He kissed her with a driving desperation that bent her body backwards. She clung to him, shaking violently with need. She gasped and moaned his name as his hands slid under her skirt, pushing back the lace of her pants to touch the damp heat between her legs.

‘Whenever I touch you, you are ready for me…’

‘Georgette…?’

The sound of Angolos’s voice dragged her back to the present. Disorientated, she blinked.

‘Are you all right?’

‘You asked me if I liked the idea of you wanting to touch me…?’

The dark colour scoring his high cheekbones deepened. ‘You’re right. This isn’t the place or time—’

‘Thinking is good, doing is better.’

And Angolos had been very good at doing. When she closed her eyes she could see him above her, his skin glistening as he drove deep into her again and again. Her cries urging him on and on.

With a frightened gasp she opened her eyes. ‘What am Idoing?’

He caught hold of her chin and angled her face up to his. ‘I don’t know, but if you don’t stop doing it I could end up getting arrested.’ His eyes gleamed with laughter but, under the laughter, darker, more dangerous emotions lurked. The darkness in his eyes exerted a powerful fascination for her. It always had.

As she lowered her mortified gaze she caught sight of a bead of sweat running down the brown column of his throat. She followed its progress, unable to tear her eyes from it.

‘I didn’t mean to.’ She gave a self-condemnatory groan. ‘That sounds so stupid! But I just do and say things around you that I wouldn’t even think around anyone else… I’m really sorry.’

‘Do I look offended?’

Her eyes lifted. She shook her head and restlessly twisted her hair into a knot on the nape of her neck.

Don’t even think about telling him how he looks, she cautioned herself.

‘You still want me. This is not to my mind a cause for repentance.’

‘Well, there’s no need to act as if you didn’t already know,’ she returned, centring her cross frown on his dark, devastatingly handsome face.

‘I didn’t consider it the foregone conclusion you seem to,’ he contended drily.

His eyes strayed to the exposed length of her slender throat and stayed there. Flushing, she let her hair fall and lowered her arms. Crossing them in front of her chest, oblivious to the fact the protective action pushed her compressed breasts upwards, she pursed her lips in a scornful grimace.

‘I bet you were a bundle of insecurity.’ Angolos, a victim to fragile self-esteem…? Oh, sure, that was really likely.

‘The flame that burns brightest does not always last the longest. You were very young—’

‘And stupid,’ she cut in angrily. ‘Yes, a lot of people think that, and it just goes to show that a few more years on the clock don’t necessarily make you any less stupid!’ If anything she wanted him more now than she had then.

‘So that aspect of being back with me does not fill you with disgust?’

‘The sex was always pretty fantastic,’ she grunted, avoiding his eyes as though her life depended on it. ‘It was the other stuff we were terrible at.’

‘So, we will work on the “other stuff”, and enjoy the sex,’ he announced, sounding pleased with himself, which, considering she had just told him she fancied the pants off him, was not surprising. Why did her mouth detach itself from her brain when she was around this man?

‘That remains to be seen,’ she replied as he fell in step beside her, moderating his long stride to match hers.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m going to pick up Nicky from Ruth’s, and then—’

‘I’ll come with you.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GEORGIE walked into a room full of people and blinked.

‘Look at her,’ Robert Kemp teased. ‘She forgot we were coming.’ He enfolded his startled daughter in a bear hug.

‘No, of course I didn’t, Dad,’ Georgie lied. ‘How are you?’

‘We’re fine…but never mind us. How’s my favourite grandson? More to the point, where’s my favourite grandson?’ he asked, looking around the room expectantly.

Her more-observant stepmother laid a concerned hand on Georgie’s arm. ‘Is anything wrong, Georgie, dear?’

‘I’m fine, thanks, Mary. He’s in the garden, Dad.’ On cue the sound of Nicky’s high-pitched laughter drifted in through the open door. ‘No, don’t go yet,’ she added, catching her father’s arm as he headed towards the French door. ‘I need to tell you something.’ Deep breath…keep calm, befirm…don’t get apologetic. ‘No, actually I need to tell everyone something,’ she corrected.

‘Well, go on, then, don’t keep us in suspense,’ her father urged impatiently.

‘Sit down, Robert,’ his wife, her eyes on Georgie’s tense figure, instructed sharply. ‘Can’t you see there’s something wrong?’