Page 18 of The Heir Affair (Claimed by a Greek #1)

‘But this we can discuss another time,’ he continued. ‘More important to me is that I keep you and our baby safe. Why must you fight me on this?’ His tone was strained, but from his expression she could see it was a genuine question.

The fact that he didn’t know the answer spoke volumes. But maybe communication was key.

She eased her hand from his grasp, because his touch made it hard for her to think clearly. And she didn’t want to mess up the chance to explain why she was so averse to having him make decisions for her without her consent.

It was obvious he was a man who didn’t usually talk about his emotions and that he was also used to giving orders and having them obeyed even more so. That he might never have had to compromise his needs was another a hurdle to overcome. But perhaps she needed to stop being so defensive, too.

He was a rich, powerful man—and that scared her, because she never wanted to let any man have the power to hurt her or reject her again.

But if he was only interested in their physical chemistry, and the baby growing inside her, why should he be a threat?

She didn’t love this man, she hadn’t been falling in love with him that day, she’d been falling for the fictitious Alex.

She folded her arms around her waist, aware of how virtually naked they both were, and the ripples of desire still skittering over her skin.

‘Could we have this conversation later? I’m really hungry,’ she said, knowing it was a cop-out, but also knowing she had to have her wits about her before she had this conversation with him. ‘And I need to shower and get dressed.’ She frowned. ‘Although I have no idea where my clothes are.’

‘I told Meghan to have them cleaned,’ he said. ‘Until I can buy you a new wardrobe.’

Her temper spiked at his arrogance. ‘Xander, I don’t want you to buy me new clothes. I just need my own clothes, which you chose to leave behind in…’

‘Please, do not let us argue about this…’ He interrupted her, his rueful expression suggesting he knew he had crossed another line he was unaware of. ‘Again.’

She sighed. And thrust her hand through her bed hair. Having him buy her clothes—because they’d left Galicos without her belongings on his orders—did not seem all that trivial, but she was feeling too raw to argue the point. And at least he had said please… Perhaps that was progress, of a sort.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But I would really appreciate it if you stopped making decisions for me. When you tell me you’re just trying to keep me safe, but you don’t discuss it with me, it reminds me of when my mum died and I didn’t have a say in anything that happened to me,’ she continued, suddenly desperate to make him understand how his high-handedness made her feel.

Perhaps he didn’t like to talk about his feelings, or hers, but she would be damned if she would let him take her choices away from her again.

‘Everyone said they were doing what was best for me, and maybe they were, but they never ever asked me what I wanted. And that sucked. I refuse to let you make me that powerless again, whether I’m pregnant with your child or not. Okay?’

His eyes darkened, his gaze intensifying even more, and the muscle in his jaw began twitching again.

He didn’t like being challenged. At all.

She braced herself for the familiar pushback—which she had endured as a grief-stricken teenager and learned to hate so much —the high-handed assumption he knew better than she did what was good for her.

But then something in his expression shifted. The hard muscle in his jaw softened, and the slabs of muscle on his broad chest lifted, and fell, as his breath guttered out on a long-suffering sigh. And then, to her utter astonishment, he nodded.

‘I understand,’ he said.

‘You do?’ she asked, wanting to believe him, but knowing she should not trust him too easily. ‘How?’

Did he really understand how she felt? Or was he simply trying to placate and manipulate her again? To lull her into a false sense of security, so he could get what he wanted… The way he’d done on his private island five months ago.

His gaze became shuttered, and wary. And his cheek tensed again.

Yup, Xander Caras is so not big on ‘share and discuss’.

When he finally replied, though, his words were so carefully devoid of emotion, they had the harsh ring of painful truth.

‘My mother died too, when I was very young… And then…’ He let out a heavy sigh. ‘Our baba …woke me late one night…’

He paused, his gaze shifting to the horizon, but she suspected he wasn’t seeing the cliffs topped with grand hotels, the dots of boats moored in the port, or the mound of Vesuvius, which hovered over the Bay of Naples as the yacht powered closer to Sorrento.

‘He told me Theo was my responsibility now.’ He released an unsteady breath. ‘I thought it was all a dream. A bad dream… But when I woke the next morning, my father was gone and we never saw him again.’

She gasped, shocked by his words and what it revealed. His life had not been as charmed and entitled as she had believed.

‘How old were you?’ she asked, compassion welling in her chest.

‘Eleven, twelve… I do not remember.’ He shrugged. But even though his expression remained blank, the cautious shoulder hitch made her heart ache for him. ‘My age then is not important, as that morning I became a man,’ he finished, and she could see he believed that.

But how could that be true? No twelve-year-old deserved to be saddled with that much responsibility. How had he and his brother survived? Had they escaped the authorities, or been taken into care?

Whatever the outcome, though, what he had revealed explained a lot.

Was this why he was so determined to protect her and the baby? Not because he wanted to take her choices away from her, but because his own father had failed to protect him?

‘I’m so sorry that happened to you. It must have been terrifying,’ she said.

He frowned and colour slashed across his cheeks. ‘I do not require your pity.’

‘It’s not pity, Xander. It’s sadness, that any child should have to go through something like that. And compassion for that little boy who had nobody. I lost my mum when I was fourteen and it made me feel so alone, because up to then it had just been me and her.’

How had he managed to keep himself and his brother safe? And how had they both made such a success of their lives, and their business? Surely that explained, at least in part, the single-mindedness she found so intimidating.

‘I did not have nobody,’ he said, the annoyance in his voice almost endearing. ‘I had myself and I had my brother—who, despite appearances to the contrary last night, is not always a pain in the butt.’

She smiled. It was obvious he regretted being so candid with her, but his reluctance to speak of that time in his life— something that certainly had not been mentioned in any of the articles she’d read about him—only made the confidences he’d shared more precious.

He placed a callused palm on her cheek. The contact made her shudder, the shiver of reaction streaking down to her bare toes. But, for once, she wasn’t embarrassed by her response.

‘You look tired,’ he murmured, the all-seeing gaze unnerving her again.

But then he brushed his thumb under her eye.

‘Have your shower and get dressed. Meghan will have left your clothes in your cabin.’ He glanced through the glass at the end of the space, towards the Sorrento shoreline, which was fast approaching.

‘I will order a new breakfast to be served to you in your room, and then we can go ashore…’ His eyes narrowed as he let his hand drop.

‘If you will promise not to run away from me.’

That was a pretty big if , but somehow the hot glow in his eyes, plus the confidences they’d shared, made her feel less inclined to rebel against the string of orders he’d just issued.

Now she had some idea why he needed to be in control at all times—and why his child’s safety was so important to him—she was prepared to give him some slack.

‘I’ll promise not to run away from you, if you promise not to kidnap me again.’

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, but then he let out a gruff chuckle that had her own lips quirking. She didn’t need his validation, or his permission, but the glow of approval in his blue gaze had the ripple of reaction at her core turning into a definite hum.

‘You drive a hard bargain,’ he said, apparently only half joking.

‘Do we have a deal?’ she countered. ‘Or don’t we?’

He swore under his breath, looking more resigned than approving, but then he gave a reluctant nod. ‘I guess.’

‘Excellent,’ she said, pleased, because she was sure she had just got a major concession.

Whether he lived up to his end of the bargain remained to be seen. But the fact they’d both managed to share something personal about their past was important, if they were ever going to rebuild trust.

They were both going to be on a steep learning curve—as he figured out how to control his insistence on being the boss of all things, and she figured out how to control her determination never to take orders from anyone ever again.

But perhaps spending time with him—on his very luxurious yacht—and getting to see the Amalfi Coast, without having to worry about how on earth she was going to pay for it, wouldn’t be so bad.

She would have to find a job sooner rather than later, as her financial independence was important to her. But the baby was the responsibility of both of them, and she needed to accept that.

On impulse, she pushed up onto her toes and touched her lips to his, in a fleeting kiss. But when he went to grab her and pull her back into his arms, she danced away.

‘Let’s go and explore Sorrento.’ She threw the words over her shoulder. ‘I’ve never been there before.’

She heard him grumbling in Greek as she laughed and dashed out of the door.