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The elevator shuddered into life and resumed its climb to his office.
‘What decisions?’ she asked, her clear voice pleasantly husky.
The sound of it shivered over his skin, the knowledge that she sounded like that because of the orgasm he’d given her making him hard all over again.
Yes, this was clearly something he was going to have to deal with. His physical response to her either needed to be nipped in the bud or indulged to its fullest extent until he didn’t feel it any more.
Since she was pregnant and he would not abandon his child, indulging it seemed to be the best course of action.
He turned and looked down at her.
She was in the process of smoothing down the dress she wore, the fabric clinging deliciously to her curves, and he couldn’t help raking his gaze hungrily down her body. If he kept her for a time, he could dress her in expensive gowns, of the finest material, that he could then tear off. Or maybe he would simply cover her naked body in jewels. He had more money than he knew what to do with... Why not?
Her cheeks were flushed and as he stared at her, she went an even deeper shade of rose.
‘Decisions about you,’ he said as the elevator arrived at his floor and chimed. ‘About the child.’
She blinked, clearly still coming back down to earth. ‘What about me and the child?’
The doors opened then so he turned back, taking her hand and stepping out directly into his vast office.
It occupied one corner of the top floor of his skyscraper, a huge, open-plan space with little islands of furniture dotted here and there. A desk positioned near the acres of floor-to-ceiling windows with a chair on the other side of it. Then across the pale carpet stood a meeting table surrounded by chairs. Near one of the other windows was a sectional couch of bone-coloured leather. A huge whiteboard covered in complicated maths equations stood by itself in the centre of the space.
The whiteboard and the desk were the main things he used, the space between the other bits and pieces of furniture where he paced up and down while he ran projections and equations in his head.
She came with him as he went over to his desk, her hand in his small and warm, and didn’t resist as he guided her to the chair that stood in front of it.
‘Sit,’ he murmured.
He didn’t want to release her, but he forced his fingers to uncurl from hers, helping her into the chair, even though she didn’t need him to. It was difficult to keep from touching her, a light hand on the small of her back, a passing brush to her elbow.
She glanced up at him as she settled, dark eyes burning. Some of her hair had escaped its braid and was curling around her face, her cheeks still stained the prettiest shade of pink. And again he felt the same burst of satisfaction as he had when his fingers had quested between her thighs and found her warm and wet and ready for him.
He’d put that flush in her cheeks. He’d put that dark passion in her eyes.
It was primitive, that satisfaction, and he should be wary of it. Should be forcing it aside, along with all those other bothersome biological responses.
It wasn’t that he denied his body—it was, after all, the vessel that contained his mind and so he looked after it, made sure it stayed in optimal condition. But he resented anything that distracted his intellect, and most especially when he was working.
A child is certainly going to distract your intellect.
The thought crept through him, making every muscle get tight, a burning sensation in his chest. No, a child would not distract him. He wouldn’t let it. He’d keep both the child and the woman close, keep them near so he could keep any such distractions to a minimum.
Forcing his recalcitrant feelings back into the box he kept them in, Aristophanes strode around the side of the desk then sat down in the vast black leather chair behind it.
‘So,’ he said. ‘These decisions. The child is mine, correct?’
Nell’s eyes widened slightly in surprise then narrowed, her full mouth compressing. ‘Of course the child is yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since you.’
For a moment a weighted silence hung between them and he found himself staring into those velvety eyes of hers, the memories of that night filling the vast space of his office with heat and desperation, and the most intense physical pleasure. It was clear she was sharing in those memories, too, because her gaze darkened even further, turning smoky, the tightness leaving her lovely mouth, her lips parting just a touch.
They’d had sex mere moments before and yet he could feel his desire rising yet again, heating the blood in his veins and making him hard. If he let this silence go on too much longer, he wasn’t going to be able to stay in his chair. He was going to lunge across the desk and grab her, drag her into his lap like a lion with an antelope.
She took a soft breath. ‘Mr Katsaros—’
‘I have many houses scattered across the globe,’ he said abruptly, forcing the desire away, trying to get some control back. ‘You choose which one you prefer to bring our child up in.’
Nell blinked. ‘Excuse me?’