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

‘In your place,’ Angolos admitted, ‘I would probably feel the same way. You would like me to disappear from your lives. It isn’t going to happen, so I suggest you get used to it.’

‘Never!’ Robert Kemp grunted.

‘I have no particular fondness for you either, but I am prepared to tolerate you for Georgette’s sake. You are my son’s grandparents and I hope you will remain an important part of his life. I realise that you spoke in the heat of the moment and you have no wish to disown your daughter or grandson, so I think it will be best all around if we forget you ever said it.’

‘You…you think…?’ Robert blustered, ignoring his wife’s agonised aside to leave it be. ‘What makes you think I give a damn what you think?’

‘I don’t. But I think you care about what Georgette thinks. Perhaps we should concentrate on what we have in common.’

‘And what would that be?’ Robert sneered.

‘We both want Georgette to be happy. I can make her happy.’ With that he walked out of the room leaving a stunned silence behind him.

Though his approach had been silent Georgie sensed his presence at her shoulder. ‘He fell asleep.’

‘So I see,’ Angolos said, looking at the sleeping child. ‘Amazing,’ he breathed softly. ‘How are you?’ he added, not taking his eyes from Nicky’s cherubic face.

‘As well as could be expected considering my family have cast me off.’ Despite the tough words, he could feel the waves of hurt emanating from her.

‘And that would bother you…?’

Narrow shoulders hunched, she picked up a stuffed toy from the floor and tucked it in beside the sleeping child. ‘Do one thing for me,’ she husked, not turning around.

‘It’s possible I might do one thing for you.’

‘Please don’t be nice,’ she pleaded from between clenched teeth.

His expressive lips quirked. ‘You want me to be unpleasant?’

‘I want you to be yourself, which amounts to much the same thing.’

‘I will do my best to behave with the callous lack of consideration you expect of me.’

Georgie whipped around and promptly forgot the acid retort that had hovered on the tip of her tongue. He was closer than she had anticipated…very much closer. Close enough to feel the heat rising off his skin, smell the warm, male, musky scent of him. She couldn’t summon the strength to fight as she felt herself sink beneath a wave of enervating lust.

‘I only want you to hold me because I’m temporarily feeling alone and sorry for myself.’ Did I really say that out loud?

Angolos cupped her face between his big hands. ‘You’re not alone,’ he rasped.

Yes, I said it! ‘I’m not normally a needy person,’ she promised, feeling weak tears squeeze out from her closed eyelids. ‘I just need a tissue and possibly a drink.’

Something flickered in his deep-set eyes. ‘But not me?’

‘I make mistakes,’ she told him. ‘But not twice,’ she added grimly as she pulled back from him, back in control—or as much as she ever was around him—of her feelings.

His expression hardened. ‘I will make the flight arrangements and contact you with the details. I’m assuming you don’t travel light with a child?’

‘What flight arrangements?’

He looked irritated. ‘What flight arrangements do you think I mean? I will fly over later tonight and organise things that end, then—’

‘You think I’m going to drop everything and leave immediately?’

‘Not immediately, but I see no reason to delay.’

She stared at him incredulously. ‘No, of course you don’t.’ How could I have forgotten how selfish and single-minded he is…?

He shook his head and sat down on the bed. Something she immediately wished he hadn’t done. ‘What is your problem? I have acceded to all your demands, placated your family… Do not push your luck, Georgette,’ he advised.

‘Oh, the “I’ll do anything to be with my son” didn’t last very long, did it?’ she observed with withering scorn. ‘I have commitments here.’

Angolos’s facial muscles clenched, giving his face the appearance of stone as he asked in a voice devoid of all emotion, ‘Does he know you are married?’

Georgie shook her head, frowning. ‘He…? Will you stop talking in riddles…?’ Then as his meaning hit her angry heat flooded her face! ‘I don’t believe you! Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to commit to another man? After you!’ she stressed.

‘You don’t have a boyfriend.’ He sounded cautious, but not unhappy with this information. ‘Then what commitments are we talking about?’

‘I have a job, I’m contractually obliged to give the school notice and even if I wasn’t I wouldn’t dream of leaving them in the lurch.’ She made a quick mental assessment. ‘I won’t be able to leave until half-term at the earliest.’

‘And when is half-term?’

‘The end of October.’

‘That is not acceptable.’

She shrugged and thrust her hands in the pockets of her jeans. ‘Tough.’

‘You really have changed.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘I’m sure I would be able to get the school to release you immediately.’

Georgie had no doubt he could, though he would probably delegate the task. ‘And I suppose that would involve throwing sacks full of money at them.’ Sometimes the Constantine name was enough.

‘Not sacks full.’

‘Typical!’

The way he was looking at her made it obvious he was totally mystified by her anger. ‘Don’t take that “I’m being reasonable and you’re being irrational” tone with me; I always hated it!’ she told him.

‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’

‘I’m not your sister. I don’t want, or need, you to make my problems go away by producing your cheque-book. Besides, this time I’m not burning my bridges. If things don’t work out I’m going to need a reference.’

‘To anticipate failure is hardly a positive attitude.’

‘Maybe not, but it’s a practical one,’ she said, responding to his criticism with a careless shrug. ‘I’m a mother now. I can’t act on a whim—I have to consider the consequences of my actions.’