Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy. Maya Blake

      That little chin had been raised in silent combat, displaying the silken skin of her throat and a shadow of cleavage. And as for the other treasures hidden beneath her cheap, threadbare clothes...and that hair I wanted to wrap my fist around...

      Theos mou. Get a grip.

      It was searing shock that had stopped me from instructing Wendell to hand her over to the authorities as soon as she’d confessed her crime.

      And shock was the reason she was in my penthouse while I bought myself some time to deal with the earth-shattering news. Besides, as much as I trusted my security chief, some things were private. And this matter couldn’t get more private.

      Sadie Preston had essentially taken every last shred of hope for my future and trashed it. And the worst thing was that I hadn’t known how much the nebulous prospect of fatherhood had meant until any chance of it had been destroyed—first with betrayal and lies, and then with a careless press of the delete button on a computer.

      My chest growing tighter, I jerked to my feet, the need to do something clawing through me. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I trust we know which direction we’re heading for in the campaign now?’ At their nods of assent, I headed for the door. ‘You have one week to get it right. Don’t let me down.’

       Don’t let me down.

      Was I wasting my breath, saying that? Was I doomed to be disappointed in everyone I put my trust in? Be it in personal stakes or in a supposedly exclusive, top-of-the-range clinic?

      My mouth soured as I strode for the lift.

      The Brazilian contingent only needed a little guidance—they’d come through eventually. If they didn’t, they’d simply be...replaced.

      While I... Christos, I would never be a father.

      I braced a hand against the wall, the weight of reality attempting to crush my shoulders.

      So what if in the past I’d had my doubts about my potential effectiveness as a father? Xenakis men were many things, but exemplary fathers they were not. My grandfather had buried himself in work up to the point when he’d dropped dead of a heart attack, trying to save his near-bankrupt family. And long before that, my father had been denied his father’s favour, resulting in the neglect of his own family.

      While we tolerated each other now, for the sake of the family business, I didn’t have a single memory of any bonding experience with my father. Boarding school had taken care of my formative years, followed by a gruelling apprenticeship at Xenakis Aeronautics.

      I had respect and loyalty, earned from my position.

      But affection? Or, hell, love?

      In light of the bombshell that had flattened my life three hours ago, even the fake-it-till-you-make-it plan I’d so loftily believed would work with any future offspring had been shattered.

      The finger I lifted to press the lift button shook with the force of the loss raking my insides. The moment I was inside the cubicle I attempted to breathe through the anguish, to get myself back under control.

      Not even when Anneka had shown her true colours that day in the hospital three years ago had such a sense of deep loss affected me. While her betrayal had been similarly life altering, deep down a part of me had been thankful to have been given the opportunity to cut her out of my life before she truly sank her claws into me. Sure, my male pride had smarted for well over a year after she’d made a fool of me—cue excessive wild oat sowing—but ultimately, I’d escaped her trap.

      With this there was not a single upside.

      Save perhaps making the culprit pay?

      The notion had gathered considerable pace by the time I entered my penthouse.

      She stood at the glass window, her attention on the view. At some point between leaving the conference room only minutes ago and now, the sun had decided to shine. It threw a halo over her, turning her hair into living flames. Tendrils had slipped their loose knots, and as I watched she absently tucked a strand over her ear, slid her hand over her nape, then her shoulder, to massage it in firm, circular strokes.

      The action sent another wave of tension through me, drawing my attention to her translucent skin, to the perfection of her hourglass figure and the stunning legs framed against the glass. Her other hand was splayed against it as if she yearned for the freedom beyond. Sensing my presence, she whirled around, those endless pools of green going wide at the sight of me.

      ‘Oh... I had no idea you’d returned.’

      My lips tightened, and that percussive mix of anger and desolation threatened again. ‘I believe it’s your lack of awareness that has led us to this point.’

      She had the audacity to look hurt. The surrealness of it nearly made me shake my head again—but enough. I was done with being confounded. The important thing was how to proceed from here.

      Doctors. Specialists. Investigate one final time.

      Every option left a trail of displeasure, and the prospect of having my dire circumstances prodded was even more unwelcome than the verdict I’d woken to after a three-week coma three years ago: the severity of my skiing accident meant that I couldn’t father children naturally. That my only hope of becoming a father rested on a sperm sample donated years ago, when I’d faced another crisis.

       A seemingly miraculous turn of events that was now crushed to nothing.

      Sadie Preston fidgeted where she stood, even as that pert little nose started to rise.

      Christos, had no one ever taught this creature the concept of true contrition? But she wasn’t as calm as she attempted to look. Her chest rose and fell in gathering agitation, and her small feet were curling and uncurling within the cheap flat shoes she wore. The action highlighted the smooth definition of her calves, and against my will I dropped my gaze, the better to absorb it.

      When that only prompted a sharp need to test their suppleness beneath my fingers, I turned, made a beeline for my drinks cabinet. A dash of Hine in the crystal tumbler clutched in my hand brought a little clarity.

      At the delicate throat-clearing behind me, I squeezed my eyes shut for a control-gathering second. Before I turned, she was speaking.

      ‘I know you only need to look at me to remember why I’m here. What I’ve done. But I’ve been thinking... If you wouldn’t mind giving me a little information, maybe we can put our heads together and come up with a solution.’

      Another urge to laugh this away in the hope that it was some extended acid dream hit me. ‘“Put our heads together”? Why would we want to do that? Are you a doctor?’

      Rose-red lips compressed, drawing my attention to yet another tempting part of her body.

      The body of your nemesis.

      ‘You know I’m not. I’m just trying to help—’

      ‘I think you’ve done quite enough, don’t you? Imagine we are the last two people on earth. Then be assured that I would rather take my chances with whatever apocalypse I face than accept your help.’

      Her translucent skin lost a shade of colour. ‘Do you need to be so cruel?’ she muttered.

      Absurdly, that plaintive question sent an arrow of guilt through me. Theos mou. What the hell was going on? Was it Upside Down Day? I downed half my drink, hoping the alcohol would burn through the fog.

      The hope was in vain. So I approached until we stood half a dozen feet apart. ‘Fine. Humour me. How would you propose we “put our heads together”?’

      ‘Well, I was thinking that if you wouldn’t mind telling me the circumstances behind your needing to use the Phoenix Clinic the first time around—’

      ‘No, I would not. Next scenario.’

      She hesitated, the tip of her pink tongue