Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption Of The Untamed Italian. Clare Connelly

Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption Of The Untamed Italian - Clare  Connelly


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it? You came to deliver the news and now you’re just going to head to the airport and return home?’

      I dredged up a smile. ‘Let me guess. This is where you expect me to make some sort of demand? Maybe ask for financial support or a McMansion to live in while I carry your child? Well, sorry to disappoint you. I want nothing from you.’

      The faint colour tingeing his sculpted cheekbones told me I’d hit the nail on the head.

      ‘Did you not hear me when I said I want this baby?’ he asked.

      ‘No, what I heard was you hedging your bets on the off-chance that I’m telling the truth. When you decide whether you want to believe me, I’m sure Wendell will be able to find me—’

      ‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘That is most definitely not how this is going to work.’

      ‘What’s that supposed to—’

      We both froze when déjà vu arrived in the hideously embarrassing form of my stomach giving the loudest growl known to humanity.

      He muttered what sounded like an incredulous Greek oath under his breath. ‘Tell me you haven’t been neglecting to eat?’ he bit out.

      Heat consumed my face. ‘I’m in the throes of a spectacular experience called morning sickness. Anything I eat before a certain time rarely stays down.’

      He frowned. ‘Surely there’s a remedy for that?’

      I shrugged. ‘If there is, they haven’t found it yet.’

      His frown intensified. ‘So the answer is what…? To starve yourself?’

      ‘I don’t do it deliberately, you know. My flight here was at an ungodly hour this morning.’

      An exasperated puff of air left his lips as he glanced at his watch. ‘It’s now past noon. Does this mean you haven’t eaten all day?’

      ‘I tried to eat something on the plane.’

      His lips twisted in distaste. ‘Budget airline food?’

      ‘We can’t all afford to travel on private jets, Mr Xenakis.’

      ‘Neo,’ he drawled. ‘Call me Neo.’

      ‘I’m not sure I want to call you anything, to be honest.’

      ‘If the child you carry is truly mine there’s one title you won’t be able to deny me,’ he stated with stone-rough gravity, just as a discreet knock sounded on the door.

      He responded in Greek, and a moment later an impeccably dressed middle-aged woman entered, holding a package which she handed to Neo. Without glancing my way, she discreetly retreated.

      He studied me for a moment, then reached into the bag. Although I suspected what the contents were, I was still shocked when he took out the oblong package.

      ‘You sent out for a pregnancy test?’

      ‘With the full intention of accepting any offence it might cause you, yes,’ he stated simply, his fingers tight around the box. ‘Will you take the test?’ he asked, his tone containing a peculiar note I couldn’t fathom.

      There was something going on here. Something beneath the surface that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Again, questions surrounding the reasons why he believed he couldn’t father children crowded my brain.

      Resolutely, I pushed them away and accepted the status quo. For now. ‘Only to prove I’m not a liar.’

      I held my hand out for it but he hesitated, his jaw working for several seconds before he said, ‘You should know that this is merely a preliminary test to confirm your pregnancy. A test for paternity will be necessary when the time is right.’

      My hand dropped, something hot and sharp lancing my chest. ‘You really are something else—you know that?’

      ‘Ne, I’ve been told.’ His stance didn’t change.

      ‘If you think I’m going to harm my baby just so your suspicions can be satisfied, you can think again.’

      Emotion, heavy and profound and almost sacred, gleamed in his eyes. ‘So you’ve made up your mind? You intend to keep it?’ he rasped, his voice shaken.

      ‘You think I flew three and a half hours on a cramped middle seat, next to a passenger with a rabid aversion to good personal hygiene, to tell you I’m pregnant, only to go back and get rid of it?’

      Neo’s gaze dropped to the hand I’d unconsciously jerked up to cradle my still-flat stomach.

      ‘You think I don’t have other things to do? I have a life to be getting on with. A mother who needs me to take care of—’ I shut my mouth, but it was too late.

      The moment his eyes narrowed I knew he was about to pounce on my unguarded revelation. ‘Your mother needs taking care of? What’s wrong with her?’ he demanded sharply.

      ‘It’s none of your business.’

      ‘I beg to differ. If this baby is mine—’

      I swatted the rest of his words away. ‘Enough with the ifs. Here—hand it over. I’ll take your precious test.’

      Grim-faced, he held out the pregnancy test. I took it, then followed the tall, imposing body that hadn’t diminished one iota in the drop-dead-gorgeous stakes in the last two months down a wide private hallway adjoining his office to a sleek, dark door.

      The bathroom was another stylish masterpiece—naturally. Gleaming surfaces held exclusive toiletries, polished floors echoed my nervous tread and the wide mirror faithfully reflected my wan features.

      I diverted my face from it, hurried into the cubicle and took the test.

      A little over three minutes later, I stepped out.

      He stood, square and true, five feet from the door, his gaze piercingly intent on the stick in my hand. For a single moment—knowing what this meant even if he doubted me, knowing I was perhaps about to change Neo Xenakis’s life—something moved in my chest.

      Then he ruined it by holding out an imperious hand for the test.

      I handed it over.

      His gaze dropped to it and he swallowed hard.

      He seemed to rock on his feet—a fascinating feat to watch, especially for a toweringly powerful man like him. He didn’t speak, only held the stick as if it was a magic wand that had the potential to deliver his most heartfelt wish.

      Afraid I would succumb to softening emotions again, I hurried to speak. ‘As you can see, it indicates how many weeks along I am. I can give you the date of my last period too, if you want?’

      It was meant to be sarcastic. It fell far short simply because I wanted him to believe me. Wanted to take away his doubt once and for all.

      Because I wanted to hurry to the part where, despite the evidence, he’d conclude that fatherhood wasn’t for him after all. That this was a mistake. That I wasn’t worthy to carry his child.

      He didn’t respond immediately. When he lifted his gaze his eyes were a stormy, dark grey, the pupils almost black. ‘This is sufficient for now,’ he finally said, his voice gravel rough.

      Then he turned and walked away.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      I COULD BARELY walk beneath the staggering evidence of what I held in my hand.

      Confirmation that there was a child, possibly my child, shook through me with every step back to my office. The circumstances astounded me. Seemed almost too good to be


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