Page 2 of Pregnant Behind the Veil (Brides for Greek Brothers #3)
And as for the last time we saw each other at his brother Gavriil’s wedding, I left because the man had been a coldhearted, vicious bastard. I deserved far better than cruel accusations and ridiculous conspiracies.
I step back and gesture for him to walk in. His gaze darts back and forth, as if he’s waiting to see if I came up with a trap in the three minutes since I agreed to let him up to my office.
“I’m not going to murder you.”
His glance flicks to me, his eyes hard and suspicious.
“Tempting though it may be,” I add with a sweet smile.
His gaze narrows, as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious or teasing. I’m not quite sure myself. When he finally walks past me, that damn aroma of earth and spice trails behind him. I steel myself as I close the door and move to my desk. He glances at the boxes.
“Moving to a new office?”
“In a manner of speaking.” My heart twists in my chest. Leaving feels like yet another failure. But it’s the right thing to do. “I’ve accepted a position with Regent Capital Planning.”
One eyebrow raises up, surprised yet judgmental. “Financial advising? You’re leaving Kingston?”
I gesture to the chair across from my desk as I sit, but Michail shakes his head. Instead, he stands with legs slightly spread, shoulders tense, his body coiled tight. A predator ready to lunge—a cheery thought as I prepare to throw his world into chaos.
“I was fortunate that the firm allowed me to continue on with your father’s estate after I reported our liaison—”
“You what?”
I frown at his sharp tone. “I reported our liaison to the firm’s partners and agreed to meet with our internal ethics committee.
” A meeting that was decidedly uncomfortable for all involved.
Nothing like sharing your sex life with your bosses and a committee made up of your coworkers.
“Once you’d confirmed via email that you had renounced your share of the inheritance and wanted no further contact with Kingston or me, I was allowed to continue working under the guidance of an oversight committee. ”
He blinks. “I’m surprised you told them.”
I resist the urge to touch my stomach and forcibly lay my hands on the armrests of my chair instead. “It was the right thing to do.”
His derisive snort punches through my defenses.
“The right thing,” he repeats.
My fingers tighten on the leather of my chair. What had I hoped for? That six weeks apart since our horrid encounter at the wedding might change his mind? Erase the viciousness of his words?
“Contrary to the charges you leveled against me, I prioritize ethics and integrity above all.”
“Integrity,” he repeats, dragging out the word in a long, slow drawl. “You and I must have different definitions of the word, Miss Wright.”
By some miracle, I force myself not to hurl any of the remaining objects on my desk at his smug face.
“Given the fantasies you spun about our affair in Greece, yes, we probably do.”
A thundercloud of anger darkens his face. “Suspicions. Justifiable ones.”
“Hmm.” I tap one finger against my lips.
His eyes follow the gesture, his jaw hardening as his gaze locks onto my mouth.
Traitorous heat pools in my belly, thankfully countered by the feminine satisfaction that curls through my veins and gives me a boost of confidence.
The man might hate me, but he still thinks about that night, too.
Good. He deserves a little suffering.
“I think my favorite theory was that I followed you to Santorini, strategically placing myself in locations you might frequent in the off chance you saw me, approached me and fell madly in lust with me.” My smile is sharp enough to cut glass.
“Or the one where I was conspiring with your father to seduce you into marriage and bend you to his will.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just stands and broods and stares. It’s too much to hope he realizes how foolish it all sounds.
I shake my head. “Perhaps for your next career you could be a writer. Your active imagination and dramatic bent would serve you well.”
“Were you and Lucifer lovers?”
Okay, I might actually throw up.
“I underestimated just how low of an opinion you had of me.” I hold up my hand when he starts to speak, to justify his latest idiocy.
“Lucifer was well over twice my age, mean as a viper and unfortunately my client. All but one of our meetings were conducted by video conference or phone due to his declining health. The one time I saw him in person was the day after I met you.” I stand, fury vibrating through me. “I would never sleep with a client.”
“Just their heirs?”
Blood drains from my face. I’d thought I was cold before, but it’s nothing compared to the ice coursing through my veins.
Except this is good, I tell myself as I breathe out, steady myself. This is just further confirmation that he isn’t, and never will be, the kind of man capable of being a good father.
I raise my chin. Time to end this. Telling him is the right thing. But so is keeping him far away from my baby.
“I asked you to meet me so I could tell you I’m pregnant. You’re the only possibility.”
The slight widening of his eyes, the flare of his nostrils, is vindicating, a pleasure that goes straight down into my bones.
“I don’t really care if you believe me or not.
” I sit and fold my hands together on top of the desk.
“I’m only telling you because it was the ethical thing to do.
I’m comfortable raising this child alone.
I don’t want anything further from you.” I nod toward the door.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Sullivan. You can see yourself out.”