by Lynne Graham
‘I sit my last exam on the fifteenth,’ Rosie conceded tautly. ‘I’ll be free to travel to Greece for a visit after that.’
‘You see, I’m easy to deal with,’ Alexius murmured smoothly, relieved that he had something positive to tell his godfather that would lighten the tiresome restrictions of his convalescence. The news that Rosie was pregnant would be a good deal less welcome to a man of Socrates’s generation and traditional outlook but nothing could be done about that, Alexius reasoned wryly.
‘No, you’re not. You’re devious and cold-blooded and you’re using my affection for Bas as a weapon against me,’ Rosie censured curtly, treating him to a look of condemnation. ‘Don’t expect me to like you for that.’
‘I saved the dog’s life by bringing him here,’ Alexius countered levelly. ‘I have one further request to make …’
‘Go on,’ Rosie encouraged, climbing into the limousine and this time taking account of the opulent leather and fittings with wide, wondering eyes. Was this how he usually travelled? Nothing could have more accurately delineated the gulf between them, she thought uncomfortably.
‘I’d like you to see Dmitri Vakros and have your pregnancy officially confirmed. I also want to be sure that you’re in good health.’
‘I’ve already seen a doctor and been checked over,’ Rosie protested wearily.
‘Do you instinctively argue against everything I suggest?’ Alexius shot back at her in exasperation, marvelling at the amount of feisty distrust and obstinacy etched into her face. She might be tiny but she had the heart of a lion. ‘I’m thinking of your well-being.’
Rosie dragged her eyes from his, her attention straying accidentally to the long powerful thigh so close to her own and up to the fabric cupping the sizeable bulge of his crotch, her colour heightening as she hurriedly lifted her head again. Images of him in bed with her, that lean bronzed body entwined erotically with her own, filled her head in Technicolor and for an instant her mouth ran dry and she could hardly breathe for excitement. Not embarrassment, excitement, she scolded herself furiously, wondering what he had done to her thinking processes. ‘My well-being is really none of your business.’
‘If it’s my baby, it’s my business,’ Alexius contradicted in a roughened undertone.
Rosie bit her soft lower lip to strangle an acid response before it leapt off her tongue. He wasn’t interested in their baby and she knew he wasn’t, so he could only be going through the motions of what he felt was expected from him. But would it be wise to discourage even the most minor display of interest on his part? She might not want a reluctant husband, but if it was possible she did want a father for her baby and including him in the process was an inescapable part of that, no matter how much the necessity warred against her private feelings. He had walked away from her after a one-night stand but she had to learn to live with that, take it on the chin, move on from that humiliation to concentrate on more important things.
‘Rosie …’ Alexius growled. ‘Will you agree to see Dmitri?’
‘If I must,’ Rosie sighed.
‘Surely you can see that I must take responsibility for you now?’
Green eyes glinting, Rosie lifted her chin. ‘It’s been years since I needed anyone to take responsibility for me. I’m not a child. I’m an adult. I can look after myself.’
‘You’ll have to get used to me doing it from now on,’ Alexius imparted with stinging cool.
Her teeth gritted. ‘I’m afraid not. I’m very independent. If I wanted to lean on you I’d have agreed to marry you,’ she pointed out waspishly.
Alexius was gritting his teeth as well, the reminder of her rejection unwelcome. ‘You may still change your mind—’
‘I don’t think so. You’re not the kind of guy I want to marry,’ Rosie told him ruefully.
Eyes glittering with high voltage annoyance, Alexius breathed in deep, wondering why he wasn’t more relieved by her assurance, by the freedom left untouched by her decision. He didn’t want to get married, he had never wanted to get married any more than he had ever wanted a child. Nothing had changed but even as he thought that his attention swerved back to the small figure in the far corner of his limo. Her pale frosted hair shone in the street lights filtering through the windows, accentuating her delicate profile, and renewed desire burned through him like a torch. She was a part of his life now but not a part he had spontaneously chosen and it infuriated him that he should still want her even in such challenging circumstances. He needed a woman in his bed, he needed a woman badly, he told himself grimly. There was no other explanation for his illogical response to her.
‘What sort of a guy do you want to marry?’ Alexius enquired very drily.
Rosie went pink. ‘Someone kind, honest and straightforward.’
Well aware that in her eyes he failed in every one of those categories, his ego dented, Alexius compressed his handsome mouth and made copious excuses for himself. Socrates had put him in the position of not being honest or straightforward when they first met. He had intended to be kind when it came to the dog but, when he had realised he could use the cost of the treatment as a lever to influence events, his more devious ruthless side had surged to the fore. So, he wasn’t perfect, not Mr Sensitive or Mr Caring as she had put it, he recalled grimly. A woman had never criticised him before and she had already done it more than once. Thee mou and he had asked her to marry him? He must have been out of his mind, thinking of long, hot nights in her bed rather than meeting with a constant litany of complaints and critical comments.
Rosie watched Alexius from below her lashes, wondering at the simmering tension revealed by the hard set of his cheekbones and the cast of his strong jaw. He was definitely not in a good mood. But he ought to be grateful that she had turned down his marriage proposal and prevented him from offering himself up as an old-fashioned sacrifice to convention. Some day he would meet a woman whom he really did want to marry. She stiffened at that idea, discovered in astonishment that she was outrageously possessive of the father of her child and didn’t at all relish the concept of him taking up with another woman. That was downright unreasonable, she told herself sternly. The night before she had put his name in a search engine and found a whole cache of images that proved that Alexius Kolovos Stavroulakis was a womaniser of many years’ standing. He had been bedding glamorous models, socialites and stars since he was a teenager and he always moved on quickly again to fresh fields. Seemingly he had never had a single long-lasting relationship with a woman, had not even lived with one, and that told Rosie that she had made the right decision. He was shockingly wealthy and even more shockingly successful in the business world, an unemotional and famously shrewd tycoon, whom few people professed to know well. There was no way she could ever be happy with a guy like that. They were ill suited in every possible way on a level that went beyond wealth, status and education. She could not even begin to imagine the life he had led.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Alexius murmured flatly as she got out of the limo. ‘Good luck with your exams!’
Rosie turned her head back in surprise and grinned, her smile lighting up her eyes and illuminating her face to quite exquisite effect. Alexius studied her stonily, refusing to admire or appreciate, his every response locked down. ‘Thanks,’ she said breezily.
Martha was waiting to hear about Bas and Rosie brought her up to date, telling her that she would call to ask how the little dog was the next morning. ‘They said they’d phone if anything happened before that,’ she said.
She made supper and could hardly stop yawning. Her GP had warned her that pregnancy would make her feel more tired than usual. Resolving to be up early to study the next day, she fell into bed, involuntarily recalled the night with Alexius and lay in the darkness, feeling the feverish heat in her pelvis tug at her with dissatisfaction. He had taught her to want sex, she decided in disgust. In time she would get over that longing and over him as well. For now she was just a little bit obsessed with him, she acknowledged une
asily.
CHAPTER SIX
‘IT’s A blob,’ Alexius pronounced, frowning at the sonograph machine, striving and failing to see and feel the same response that had made Rosie’s big green eyes well up with sentimental tears.
‘It’s a baby,’ his friend Dmitri contradicted while the nurse wiped the gel from Rosie’s still-flat stomach. ‘Your son or daughter.’
‘Alex hasn’t got that much imagination,’ Rosie commented, sliding down off the examination couch with relief. She hadn’t wanted Alexius present during the scan and had agreed purely on the strength of the conviction that if he was to feel that this was his baby she had to involve him in her pregnancy whenever it was possible. So much for that. It’s a blob! she reflected in despair.
‘Well, there’s nothing much to see yet,’ Alexius countered defensively, wishing he hadn’t bothered to ask to be present, wishing he had just stayed out of the whole damned debate. He was at a total loss when people got slushy and emotional. That had never been his thing.
They adjourned to Dmitri’s office where his friend pointed out that the blob looked big for a woman of Rosie’s small proportions and that a Caesarean delivery might be necessary. Instantly, Alexius felt queasy and guilty as hell as in his mind the blob became a serious threat to Rosie’s survival. Suppose she died, he thought suddenly, the shock of the concept whipping up a melodramatic storm of deathbed scenes inside his mind that proved he had far more imagination than Rosie would ever suspect. He studied her, engaged as she was in animated chatter with the obstetrician he had first met as a medical student at university. Delicate colour warmed her small face, enthusiasm lifted her usually quiet voice and sparkled in her eyes. She wanted the blob, she really, really wanted the blob, he registered in amazement. Pregnancy might have messed up her life and her plans but even so she was prepared to go with the flow and make room for his baby now. As a male whose parents had never made room for him in their lives, he was deeply impressed by her unselfishness and willingness to adapt to the new order.
‘Didn’t you feel anything … even when you heard its heartbeat?’ Rosie pressed hopefully, moving back to the limo at the kerb. ‘I found that really exciting!’
Shrewd gaze screened, Alexius glanced at Rosie. The most exciting part of his day had happened when she emerged from her home, clad in a short black stretchy skirt and a fitted top that outlined her sleek little body to perfection. He was still enjoying the view of her long shapely legs, well, they were long in proportion to the rest of her, he reasoned, and that sweet little swell of her bottom when she bent over right in front of him to fix her shoe was downright indecent. He only had to think of sinking into the hot, wet, velvet welcome of her and he was hard as a rock and feverishly hungry to enjoy what he had enjoyed only once before. And that wasn’t like him. In fact, more and more he was feeling uneasy inside his own skin around Rosie. He should be moving on to pastures new. Rosie was already the past and, even though she would essentially be part of his future as well once she had the blob, he should be delighted that she wasn’t trying to nail him down to fully committed partner and parenting duties and promises of everlasting fidelity: he was still free as a bird, he reminded himself doggedly, disappointed when no spark of anticipation ignited at the prospect of his next lover. Of course, he was thirty-one years old and he had had an active sex life from around the age of sixteen when one of his mother’s friends had seduced him. When it came to women, he had had more freedom, experience and choice than most men enjoyed and it was possible that he was currently a little jaded.
Rosie was deeply disappointed by Alexius’s lack of a warm response to the sonogram picture of their future son or daughter. She wondered why he had bothered to come and she had noticed how squeamish he had been when Dmitri Vakros mentioned the possibility of a Caesarean. Alexius had turned a grey shade, his look of horror unhidden. He was such a bloke. She already had an emotional connection with the child she carried but possibly she was expecting too much too soon from a guy who had only known for a week that fatherhood was on his horizon. Did it loom like a black cloud, she wondered, or as something new and different?
Alexius breathed in deep. ‘I’m taking you to get measured for a new wardrobe.’
Rosie settled disbelieving eyes on him. ‘You’re … what?’
‘You need to dress up for Greece and you haven’t got the clothes for it. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your grandfather’s home,’ Alexius admitted.
Rosie was enraged at his confident assumption that he knew how she would feel about anything. ‘I don’t care about stuff like that!’
‘You think you don’t but you will,’ Alexius forecast, reckoning that she was planning to be as stubborn about the clothes as she was about everything else. Everything was a battle with Rosie: she hated him calling the shots but all his life he’d been a dominant personality and he had no plans to change.
‘And how the heck do you make that out? Is my grandfather as wealthy as you are?’ she suddenly demanded.
‘No, but he is a multimillionaire,’ Alexius revealed for the first time. ‘And he and his family enjoy a comfortable lifestyle.’
‘A multimillionaire?’ Rosie gasped in panic. ‘Truthfully?’
‘Truthfully,’ Alexius confirmed.
Rosie was silenced, irritated that she had not suspected that reality for herself. After all, how likely was it that someone as rich as Alexius would have a godfather who was an ordinary man on a middling income? Suddenly she felt intimidated by what might await her in Greece.
‘I don’t want you to look and feel like a poor relation when you meet your father’s family,’ Alexius admitted.
‘Even if it’s the truth?’ she fielded between gritted teeth. ‘Why should I care about what I look like? That’s superficial.’
‘I agree but that’s how the world is,’ he responded with irrefutable logic. ‘Appearances are important.’
Her thin shoulders hunched. ‘I don’t want you spending any more money on me, and I can’t afford a new wardrobe,’ she pointed out flatly.
‘The cost is nothing to me,’ Alexius retorted with a grimace.
‘But not when it came to fixing up Bas?’ she queried sharply, thinking with relief of how well the little dog had recovered while studying Alexius, wishing he were not so beautiful that he kept on ensnaring her attention. No matter how desperately hard she tried not to look at him her gaze repeatedly swerved back to him. Her entire body tingled as she remembered the raw sensuality of his mouth on hers and the air in her lungs shortened as if she were zooming down too fast on a roller-coaster ride.
‘I would have covered the dog’s needs no matter what you did,’ Alexius countered levelly, his libido reacting to the buzz of sexual energy in the atmosphere so that he had to fight the urge to simply grab her. All those years of sexual practice and sophistication, he thought grimly, and all he wanted to do was flatten her to the seat like a marauder and have her any way she would let him. For the first time ever with a woman he was being cautious.
‘But I didn’t know that!’ Rosie yelled back at him furiously in one of the sudden explosions of temper that always took him by surprise. ‘How was I supposed to know that?’
‘I’m not a monster … You’re carrying my baby—’
‘You mean, the blob?’ Rosie snapped nastily.
Slight colour tinged his exotic cheekbones and his handsome mouth folded. ‘It did look like a blob. Was I supposed to lie to the woman who told me she valued honesty?’
Out of nowhere a surge of stinging tears assailed Rosie’s eyes and she blinked them back hurriedly and reached spontaneously for the hand braced on the space between them. ‘No, I don’t want you to feel that you have to lie or pretend for my sake … I don’t ever want you to feel like th-that!’ she stammered.
‘You’re crying!’ Alexius noticed, aghast at the development.
‘No, it’s OK … OK!’ Rosie exclaimed, frantically grabbing at and stroking his hand in apology.
‘Remember what Dmitri said? My hormones are all over the place at the moment … The tears just come for no good reason—’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Alexius pronounced, logical to the nth degree and hooking his hand into hers to draw her onto his lap without even thinking about it. Getting his arms round her tiny body at last felt amazingly good. ‘I’m sorry I called the baby a blob and hurt your feelings.’
Rosie twisted to look at him with big, round green eyes. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
In surely the most awkward position ever allotted to a man on the make, Alexius caught her chin and claimed the delicious moistness of her mouth and kissed her with devouring urgency. Rosie shivered in eager response, feeling her body light up on all systems go inside her skin. As she twisted, Alexius lifted her and brought her round sideways, pushing her bottom into stirring contact with his healthy erection. Her eyes opened even wider as a deft hand travelled up her skirt and slid between her thighs to cup the heart of her where she ached. ‘Alex!’ she gasped.
He wrenched up the skirt and fought with her panties to access the warm, welcoming wetness of his fantasies, and he groaned with satisfaction against her swollen mouth as he got there and discovered that she was as ready as he was. His thumb circled her clitoris and set off a chain reaction through her pelvis that she could not control. She writhed, she moaned, made not the smallest attempt to escape, intoxicated as she was by the way he was teasing her overexcited body. She buried her mouth against his strong brown throat, kissing him, drinking in the glorious hot male scent of his flesh like an addict, all of her senses up and away on a magical tour of reacquaintance. With one finger, he slid inside and she ground down her bottom onto the thrust of his arousal, helpless in the grip of the most driving need she had ever experienced, feeling the gathering storm at the heart of her, rising up through her like an unstoppable force of nature. She splintered from the inside out with the intensity of the pleasure, her body jerking in the successive spasms of ecstasy, her head falling weakly against his shoulder in the aftermath.
