Pregnant By The Commanding Greek. Natalie Anderson
the only reason he’d remained at Cavendish House in recent years.
One look at her and Leon understood why.
But she wasn’t his type. She’d spoken to him in a way no one else dared to. Tearing strips off him with blunt, brutal honesty, not stopping to censor herself or having the slightest hesitation in telling him what she really thought. Her heart wasn’t just on her sleeve, she was waving it on a flag in front of him.
It was extremely novel. In his life, communicating emotions had not only been discouraged, but also punished. As his parents had ruthlessly taught him, any kind of emotional display was a weak loss of self-control.
Yet he didn’t want Antoinette to start picking her words with care now. He liked knowing, without any uncertainty, exactly what she was feeling. And it was her fierce protectiveness that riveted him. Like a lioness protecting a lone cub, she’d held her corner and not given an inch, no matter the possible personal cost to herself. She’d fully expected him to fire her. But Leon knew people made mistakes. He’d give her one chance to redeem herself.
‘Be on time. Always. I don’t like to be disturbed,’ he said roughly.
‘I can be discreet,’ she answered defiantly.
He simply stared at her. As if she could come into his apartment unseen? Unheard? As if she could ever be anything but disruptive?
A thread of wicked amusement trickled through him as she stilled in the face of his silence. He knew the exact moment she mentally replayed her words and realised an alternative innuendo. The same intimacy-drenched scenario he was imagining. A deep rose burnished her creamy skin—her cheeks, her neck, even the small hint of skin he could see at the vee of her high-collared T-shirt. But then he registered the rebellion in her gaze again—together with her less than subtle attempts to suppress it.
He didn’t want her to suppress anything.
The urge to haul this petite emotional tornado close and kiss her into a frenzy of desire almost felled him. Grimly he fought the need to provoke her into taking everything else she might want from him. He knew he could. He saw the awareness in her eyes. Women found him attractive and sex was a fun relaxant. But he’d bet that sex with Girl Friday here wouldn’t be as much fun as mind-blowing. If the incandescence of her anger was anything to go by, in bed she’d be unrestrained and utterly responsive.
Sex of the best kind. The kind that was irresistible.
He knew she felt the sparks. They were why she’d flushed over her choice of words. Why she’d trembled at his inadvertent touch before. Why she was looking at him with unrestrained rebellion now. Because she didn’t want this chemistry either. And that irritating rejection was precisely why he couldn’t resist making what he knew would be a massive mistake.
He roughly pushed the request past the tightness in his throat. ‘I want you in my apartment in one hour.’
‘WHY DIDN’T YOU tell me?’ Ettie groaned to Joel as soon as she safely got back into the small concierge office, Toby still in her arms.
‘I didn’t have the chance…’
Of course he hadn’t. Ettie shook her head and stopped him, regretting her unfair question. ‘Sorry, I know you didn’t.’
‘Don’t you think he’s out of this world?’ Jess, one of the housemaids, leaned over her desk. ‘Chloe saw a model-type leaving his penthouse late last night. She was in the lift. Really dishevelled.’ She waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive gesture. ‘First night in and he’s already—’
‘No gossip,’ Ettie whispered loudly, but softened her rebuke with a smile at the maid.
The news didn’t surprise her. Of course he’d bed models. He was as striking as a model himself. He’d have no trouble getting any woman he wanted into bed. Even she’d responded to him on a purely primal level. He was so handsome it was almost painful. He was extraordinarily uptight, though, and he had a way of looking as if he could see right through her, while at the same time revealing nothing of his own thoughts.
Unabashed by Ettie’s warning, Jess just laughed. ‘Well, I think he’s gorgeous. I’d do him.’
‘He’s an unsmiling ogre,’ Joel grumbled. ‘An arrogant jerk who thinks he’s special.’
Well, with his obvious physical strength as well as his business success, he was a bit special. He had it all—looks, wealth, women…success.
‘He was unfairly harsh with you, Ettie,’ Joel added. ‘And as for George…’
Yeah, it was no surprise that her boss was nowhere to be seen—hiding out until the dust had settled, no doubt. But she smiled at the hint of protectiveness in Joel’s voice. ‘He’ll be even harsher if I don’t get all that stuff up to his apartment within the hour.’
‘Do you want help?’
She shook her head. ‘We’re behind down here already—you get on top of this for me and I’ll deal with the ogre.’
She had to go into his apartment. Repeatedly. Her heart beat stupidly quickly at the thought. The range of inappropriate images that rioted through her head at the prospect of turning up to his apartment early tomorrow morning… Would he be awake or sleepy? She’d bet her life he didn’t bother with pyjamas…but what if he had another dishevelled model-type with him? Ugh.
Get a grip and act like a professional.
Somehow she had less than fifteen minutes until the hour he’d given her was up, and she was not being late a second time today. With the dog in one arm and pushing a trolley with all his other stuff, she took the lift. She knocked but got no answer, so keyed in the security code.
‘Hello? Mr Kariakis?’ She walked into the apartment, but the room was silent.
Was she supposed to leave Toby alone in here or wait with him? Gritting back a frustrated sigh, she popped the dog down and turned to lift all his paraphernalia from the trolley. As she struggled with full arms, she noticed Toby wandering off towards a bedroom. She called to him quickly, dropping his water bowl as she hurried to catch him. And at that worst possible moment the ancient rubber band securing her ponytail snapped, sending her hair flying about her face in a mess of half-curls and straggle. She dumped the dog’s gear down in the middle of the room and glanced about for something to use. She spied a pen lying on the nearest table and quickly swiped it up. She twisted her unruly hair into a knot on top of her head and secured it with the pen. Thank heavens perfect Leon Kariakis wasn’t there to see her in such a debacle with the dog, basket, blankets and bowls all in a muddle at her feet.
‘Ms Roberts.’
She froze. And wasn’t that just her luck?
She swivelled to face him as he strode through from the bedroom. Usually it was at this point that she’d offer her first name to a new resident. Something held her back from doing so with Leon Kariakis, however. The grim look of disapproval on his face perhaps?
He still looked impeccable in that charcoal suit. She quelled the smidgeon of disappointment that he might’ve relaxed a little in his own space; it wasn’t to be.
‘You’re late,’ he said.
‘Actually, I’m right on time.’ She held up her watch and then walked further into the lounge, trying not to let her confidence plummet. Remote and controlled, he relentlessly watched her progress as she self-consciously set up Toby’s basket in a corner of the room with a stunning view of the city out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
‘Is that my pen in your hair?’
She froze. Could his voice be any more arctic?
‘Sorry, my hair tie broke.’ She looked at him and registered the astonishment