At the Tycoon's Service: The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress / The Tycoon's Rebel Bride / The Tycoon’s Secret Affair

Marley closed Chrysander’s door quietly and glanced up as Patrice approached. She tried to look welcoming, because after all she did like Patrice. She was just doing her job.

“Are you ready to go up?” Patrice asked with a smile.

Marley sighed. “Honestly? I’d like to smother Chrysander with the pillow he insists I rest on.”

Patrice tried to stifle her laughter, but a chuckle escaped. “Could I interest you in a cup of tea on the terrace instead?”

Marley immediately brightened. “That sounds wonderful.”

She fell into step beside Patrice as the two headed toward the glass doors. A cool breeze, scented by the ocean, blew over Marley’s face when she stepped outside.

“I hope you don’t mind if Dr. Karounis joins us.” Marley noticed the way Patrice’s cheeks turned pink as she spoke. “He and I take tea here every afternoon.”

“Of course not,” Marley replied as she settled into one of the chairs surrounding the small table overlooking the gardens.

When Patrice ducked back inside to prepare the tea, Marley was left alone. She leaned back and stared out over the grounds. Even with the constant company that Patrice and Dr. Karounis afforded, loneliness surrounded her like a cloak. That and frustration.

Every time Chrysander relaxed around her and they shared any sort of intimacy, he immediately backed away, as if he became aware of what was happening and rushed to correct it.

She was convinced that Patrice and Dr. Karounis were here more as a barrier between her and Chrysander than they were here over any worry he had of her health. Not that he didn’t care. She wasn’t petty enough to think he wasn’t genuinely concerned for her and their child. But at the same time, she couldn’t discount the convenience of him pawning her off on Patrice whenever things got too personal.

It seemed that when she actually started to relax, he only grew more uptight. Nothing about her supposed relationship with this man made any sense to her. If only she could remember. If only she knew someone she could ask. Had she truly been so closed off from the rest of the world during her relationship with Chrysander?

“Surely things aren’t that bad,” Patrice said as she set a tray down on the table in front of Marley. “You look as though you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Marley managed a faltering smile. “Oh, nothing so serious. Just thinking.”

Dr. Karounis walked up behind Patrice and nodded a greeting to Marley. Patrice smiled broadly and urged the doctor to sit down while she poured tea.

Despite her own inner turmoil, Marley couldn’t help but smile at the older couple. They were obviously enjoying a mild flirtation. It was good to see someone happy and content. She’d give anything to enjoy a moment’s peace.

With another sigh, she collected her cup and brought it to her lips as she looked out again over the beautiful garden. Maybe she was expecting too much in too short a time. Maybe she was pushing too hard, which precipitated Chrysander pushing her away. So much would be solved if she could only remember.

At any rate, she couldn’t expect an overnight miracle. There had to be a way to break through Chrysander’s defenses. She just had to find it.

Chapter Nine (#ulink_4a1f194c-2f26-5e33-b32c-0c55a5e23d96)

Their days slowly began to settle into a routine much as their nights did. Once he was assured of her health, Chrysander made love to Marley every night, possessing her with passion that left her breathless. But in the mornings, he was always gone before she woke up.

She’d made it a habit to seek him out, bothered by the fact that he left their bed so early. More often than not, she’d find him in the library, either on the phone, on his computer or poring over contracts and faxes. He’d look up when she entered, and for a brief moment, she’d see fire flare in his eyes before his expression became more controlled, and after murmuring a polite good-morning, he’d return to his work. And she was summarily dismissed.

So she spent most mornings alone or in the company of Patrice and Dr. Karounis who seemed quite content to spend their time together. At lunch, Chrysander would make his appearance as if he hadn’t just spent hours sequestered in work. To his credit, he devoted the afternoons to Marley.

She’d cajoled him into taking walks with her on the beach, though he grumbled about the chill and her tiring herself. She looked forward to these times because she had Chrysander all to herself, and at least in those few short hours, he seemed to lose his cautious reserve with her.

It was during one of those walks that Chrysander pulled her down to sit on the log she often sat on to watch the ocean. He stared out over the water for a moment then turned to her, his expression serious.

“We should get married soon.”

She twisted the engagement ring around her finger with her thumb and wondered why this wasn’t a happier conversation.

“I wanted to give you time to recover and regain your strength. The doctor feels you are strong and healthy now.”

She relaxed a little under his intent gaze. “When were you thinking of?”

“As soon as I can arrange it. I don’t want to wait any longer. I don’t want our child born a bastard.”

She frowned and twisted her neck to gaze up at him. It was hardly a romantic declaration of love and devotion. But then she didn’t want her child to be born out of wedlock, either. She suddenly felt selfish for wanting a more flowery reason for the hastiness of their marriage.

“Will you marry me, pedhaki mou? I’ll take care of you and our child. You’ll want for nothing, I swear it.”

She worked to keep another frown from her face. The more he talked, the less desirous she was for marriage. He made it sound like a bargain. She didn’t want their marriage to be cold and clinical.

He tipped her chin up with his finger and stared down into her eyes. “What are you thinking about so hard?”

She didn’t want to tell him the truth. So instead, she slowly nodded.

One of his eyebrows lifted in question. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you as soon as you can arrange it.”

Satisfaction glinted in his eyes. He leaned down to brush his lips across hers. “You won’t regret this, pedhaki mou.”

Such an odd choice of words. Why would she have reason to believe she’d regret marrying the man she loved, the father of her child? She wondered if he’d always been so cryptic and that she’d learned to love him in spite of it. Obviously she had.

As they walked back to the house, she slid her hand into his. There was a need for comfort in her action. After only a slight hesitation, he curled his fingers around hers and squeezed. Bolstered by the small gesture, she shrugged away the doubts tugging at her.

That night, Marley was dressing for bed when Chrysander came up behind her and curled his arms around her waist. His hands rested over the swell of her stomach as he nuzzled a line from the top of her shoulder to the sensitive region just below her ear. Goose bumps danced and scattered along her skin, and she trembled against his chest.

“I much prefer you naked, pedhaki mou,” he said as he slid one hand up to pluck at the string of the gown she’d just slipped on.

His words speared through her mind, sparking a distant remembrance. For a moment, she had an image of him standing before her, staring at her with glowing eyes, saying those exact words. She struggled to remember more, but it slipped away as fast as it had slipped in.

She closed her eyes in frustration even as she gave way to the pleasure of his touch.

He slid the strap over her shoulder, following it with his lips until it tumbled down her arm. Then he turned his attention to the other side, giving it the same thorough attention. He thumbed the thin string down her arm until the satin material spilled from her body and landed in a pool on the floor.

Uncertainty and vulnerability washed over her as she stood naked save for the lacy panties she wore. She jumped when he placed his hands over her belly again and then did a slow walk up and over her curves. His palms smoothed up her sides and then curved around to her breasts, where he cupped both soft mounds. His lips found her neck again, and she shivered uncontrollably as his thumbs caressed her taut nipples while he landed light nips with his teeth.

“I want you,” he said in a guttural voice. “You’re so beautiful, agape mou. Come to bed with me.”

It was so easy to forget her doubts and insecurities in the shelter of his arms. When they made love, they truly connected. There were no barriers, no stiffness and no reluctance. She lived for these moments, when he made her his, when he showed her far better than words what she meant to him.

She turned, allowing his hands to slide over her skin. When she was facing him, she leaned up on tip toe and linked her arms around his neck. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

With a low growl, he swooped in and captured her lips with barely controlled restraint. His movements were impatient tonight, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he couldn’t wait to possess her.

She allowed him to urge her toward the bed, his body pressed tightly to hers. He eased her onto the mattress, his lips never leaving hers. He lifted himself off her, his eyes blazing in the dim light. With jerky motions, he stripped out of his clothing before lowering himself once more.