Page 8 of The Heir Affair (Claimed by a Greek #1)
The probing question, and the astute observation, surprised her. But not as much as the horrifying surge of arousal when he continued.
‘Except your breasts,’ he added, his voice husky as his gaze roamed over her figure with a sense of entitlement that disturbed her almost as much as the way her nipples tightened against her bra under his observation. ‘They are even more generous than I remember.’
‘Th-that’s normal…’ she stammered, wishing she hadn’t taken off the coat now. ‘It’s the hormones.’
He nodded. ‘And the weight loss, is this normal too?’
‘I—I haven’t lost weight,’ she said, then realised how defensive that sounded, especially as strictly speaking it wasn’t entirely true.
After her last scan a month ago, the doctor had told her she needed to keep an eye on her nutrition, because the baby was big for dates—not surprising given the size of its father, she realised now—but she was underweight in comparison.
He frowned and then his eyes narrowed, the sceptical expression making her feel even more defensive.
‘Who is handling your maternity care in Galicos?’ he asked.
No one. The answer sprang into her head, but she managed to prevent it from popping out of her mouth, because she could suddenly imagine how irresponsible that might sound.
But, really, she was perfectly healthy. A little tired perhaps—because she’d been working nights.
And she’d struggled to gain weight initially, because the morning sickness had been brutal for a few weeks before and after her last antenatal appointment. But she was over that now.
‘I’m perfectly healthy, Alex,’ she countered. The minute she’d used the name he’d given her that day, she wished she could take it back. ‘I—I mean, Mr Caras.’
One dark eyebrow arched, and he leaned back in his seat. He took a long draught of water as he watched her over the rim of the glass. He put it down on the table in front of him. How could he look so relaxed, she wondered, when she felt as if her insides were tied in large greasy knots?
‘You are having my child, Poppy. I think you can call me Alex,’ he said, the husky tone matched by the wry amusement in his eyes.
‘Except that’s not your name,’ she snapped back, reminded all over again of how she’d fallen so easily for his lies that day. ‘The article I read in the business press referred to you as Xander Caras.’
She’d only managed to find one article on him, an interview in an investment magazine, when she’d looked for more information about him after seeing the celebrity piece about his rumoured engagement to Galicos royalty, and more recently the social media thread about his engagement announcement and party.
She wished now she’d looked a lot harder, because she felt unarmed.
She hadn’t, for example, really understood how wealthy he was until she’d seen his yacht.
‘My given name is Alexander,’ he said, hitching one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. ‘Most people call me Xander, it is true, but you are welcome to call me Alex…’ His gaze drifted to her waist. ‘After all, you are the only woman who has ever been pregnant with my child, so you are not most people.’
She let out a breath, trying desperately to relax and not react to the patient tone.
It was pointless having an argument about what she was going to call him.
And equally pointless to give in to that foolish flush of pleasure that he considered her special in some way.
Of course she was special to him now. But only because she was having his child.
‘You don’t have any other children?’ she asked, because she was suddenly curious.
He shook his head. ‘You are also the only woman I have ever chosen to make love to without using a condom.’
Her cheeks heated again. They’d used withdrawal that day, because they’d both been desperate to feel him inside her. And neither of them had had any other form of protection with them. It had been a stupid risk. She knew that now. But she couldn’t regret it.
‘I should apologise,’ he added, the flags of colour on his cheeks returning. ‘For not pulling out fast enough.’
‘That’s okay,’ she replied, strangely touched he would think an apology was necessary when they’d both made the choice to go ahead. ‘When I found out I was pregnant, I wasn’t upset. I wanted to have the baby.’
She knew now, of course, the burst of euphoria she’d felt in that moment had had a lot to do with her feelings for him, or rather her feelings for the man she had thought she’d met on the beach that day.
But once she’d found out who he really was, she’d already heard the baby’s heartbeat and seen it on the ultrasound monitor.
However hard it had been to face the fact that what had happened that day was a lie, her excitement about becoming a mother would always be real.
She shrugged. ‘And anyway, we both made the choice to take that risk. So, we’re both responsible for the consequences.’
Unhooking his ankle, he leant forward and brushed his thumb down her face. She shuddered, the slight contact nothing short of electric. But somehow she couldn’t seem to pull away from his touch as he traced his finger across her cheek and hooked a curl of hair behind her ear.
She dropped her chin, disturbed by the fierce light in his eyes, which made her remember the way he had looked at her that day, as if she mattered. As if he cared.
She gulped down the ball of need.
He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face back to his.
‘You must let me support you, and our child, Poppy,’ he said, the passion and purpose in his eyes unmistakeable. ‘I do not want you working in this condition.’
The words reverberated in her heart, as well as her head, but then he cradled her cheek and tugged her towards him, adding, ‘And I have never stopped wanting you.’
Her lips trembled, the yearning coming from nowhere, when he lowered his head to hers and captured her mouth in a searing kiss.
She sucked in a breath, knowing it was wrong, knowing she shouldn’t give in to the passion that made her heart race and pound between her thighs the second his mouth conquered hers. But then his tongue swept across her lips, demanding entry, and her mouth opened to let him in.
His tongue delved deep, exploring the recesses of her mouth, and she probed back, her tongue tangling with his, demanding, desperate to have more.
His fingers thrust into her hair as he angled her head to take the kiss deeper.
She clung to his shirt front, propelled back to that bright sunny day, when everything had been so wonderful, so exhilarating, so full of promise and possibilities.
He’d been so strong, so perfect, so unknowable and yet so exciting—a man who saw her and wanted her.
He broke the kiss first, their ragged breaths a brutal reminder of that day five months before when they’d made their baby. He rested his forehead on hers, the delirious feeling of connection so intense she felt branded, as his thumb stroked her neck.
‘I could not forget you,’ he murmured against her lips.
The words brushed across her heart, but then the truth struck her. The way it had a month ago when she’d read about his upcoming engagement. And she reared back, dragging herself away from that possessive touch.
She leapt up from the seat and stood trembling, still far too aware of the throbbing sensation where his lips had devoured hers. And her instant, unstoppable reaction to that drugging kiss that had made her forget again who he really was.
‘Don’t say that, when you know it’s not true,’ she managed, brutally aware now of how easily she had succumbed again. All he’d had to do was say he wanted her, and she’d been putty in his hands. Even though everything about this situation was wrong.
He unfolded himself from the seat and walked towards her, his face flushed, the piercing blue gaze intense.
‘Of course it is true. We have such chemistry. Or you would not have kissed me as you just did,’ he replied, so close now she could feel the heat of his body.
‘And you would not now be pregnant with my child.’
She took another step back, and wrapped her arms around her waist where their baby grew. ‘But you love someone else,’ she said, her voice breaking on the words.
His frown deepened, but it was the blank confusion in his expression that shocked her more. As if he had no idea what she was talking about.
‘Princess Freya,’ she prompted. ‘The woman everyone says you’re planning to marry.’
The confusion cleared, and she almost felt sorry for the Princess. How could he have forgotten his soon-to-be fiancée so easily?
But then he swore and muttered something in Greek, before stalking across the lounge. He stood with his back to her, every muscle in his spine rigid, as he stared out into the night.
She lifted her coat from her seat. ‘I want to return to Galicos now,’ she said, hating the tremor in her voice. And the guilt and shame rising up her torso.
She had never intended to get pregnant by another woman’s boyfriend.
And perhaps he hadn’t been dating the Princess when they’d met.
But the fact he could kiss her with such fervour even now, when he was about to pledge himself to someone else, said a lot about him.
Worse, though, was what that said about her.
He wasn’t wrong about the chemistry they shared. Unfortunately, it was as vivid and combustible as it had ever been. But that was all it was, a physical attraction, a biological need. An animal instinct that they needed to control instead of encouraging.
‘She means nothing to me,’ he said, stopping her in her tracks as she made her way to the lift.
She had to force herself to clamp down on the awful rush of hope at his words, which were swiftly followed by another wave of shame. But before she could think of anything to say about his brutal revelation, he crossed the lounge towards her.
‘How…? How can she mean nothing if you are going to marry her?’ she forced herself to ask.
He shrugged as if the details were of no interest to him.
‘The marriage is part of an arrangement I made with her father, Prince Andreas, to purchase anchorage in Galicos for Caras Shipping’s new cruise liners.
’ The muscle in his jaw began twitching again, his frustration at being forced to explain himself clear.
‘It was a requirement of the Prince, because he did not wish to sell land in the principality to anyone outside the royal family. He suggested that a marriage between us would make him more comfortable about selling me the land.’
She sucked in a breath, the pragmatic answer, and the cold tone, somehow worse than the thought he had cheated on the woman he loved. ‘You’re dating the Princess to secure a land deal?’
The thought sickened her. Who was this guy? Really? Of course, she understood people didn’t always marry for love, she wasn’t that na?ve. But she was still stunned that anyone could be so ruthless.
His gaze sharpened. ‘I am not in a relationship with Princess Freya. I have met her precisely twice. And I have never slept with her.’ His eyes darkened. ‘In fact, I have not slept with anyone since that day. Because you have a hold on me which I cannot break.’
She stiffened, shocked by the revelation.
But even more shocked by the desire to romanticise it, when the brittle light in his eyes suggested he saw her effect on him as some kind of curse.
She knew how he felt now, because the feelings she’d had for him, the feelings she’d believed had developed over that one bright beautiful day, had all been a lie.
‘If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t,’ she said.
She turned, intending to head down to the lower deck and beg his steward for a lift back to the mainland if she had to. But before she could make her getaway, he caught her wrist and tugged her back around to face him.
‘Feelings are not important now. What matters is what is going to happen next. You and this baby are my responsibility, and I will not allow you to—’
‘I don’t care what you’ll allow.’ She jerked her wrist free, forcing the anger with his arrogance to the fore to cover the hurt. ‘I can look after myself without any help from you.’
‘And yet it is clear you cannot…’ He grasped her wrist again.
But then they both startled at the sound of someone clearing their throat, loudly.
She swung round to see a man—as tall and muscular as Alex, with the same piercing blue eyes—standing with his hip propped against the bar, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded over his chest. His stance was casual, his demeanour a lot less intense and moody than Alex’s, but she already knew this had to be his younger brother…
She’d read in that same article that Theodoros Caras co-owned the company, but also that he was a devastatingly handsome and charming playboy.
She could see that was objectively true—his chiselled features were more finely drawn than his brother’s, but they lacked the brooding intensity that made Alex’s face so compelling.
A feral light glittered in the man’s eyes and a cynical smile twisted his lips.
‘Sorry to interrupt your lovers’ quarrel,’ he said, his English perfect but his accent a mid-Atlantic mix of American and European, unlike his brother’s, which was much more Greek. ‘But you need to keep the noise down.’
The man’s gaze dropped to her stomach, but then to Poppy’s astonishment he laughed.
‘So, it’s true. The Internet is already buzzing with the news Princess Freya’s intended was seen escorting a pregnant waitress off the wharf and taking her to his yacht.’
The chuckle turned wry with amusement as his gaze rose back to Poppy’s burning face.
‘Good to meet you, miss.’ He gave her a mock bow.
‘I’m Theo Caras, Xander’s bad-boy kid brother.
’ He dipped his head to indicate her pregnancy, his smile widening as his attention returned to his brother, and those blue eyes became eagle sharp.
‘But if that’s really my brother’s responsibility—as he just broadcast to the crew of this yacht and probably every sharp-eared paparazzi with a telephoto lens gathered on the dock a mile away—it appears I’m not the only bad boy in the family any more. ’