Название | Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure |
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Автор произведения | Maisey Yates |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474097109 |
Ice shivered down her spine. “I haven’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t... It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re here vomiting and looking pale, you haven’t had your period in the past month and you don’t think that means anything.”
“We...”
“Were not very careful.”
No, they hadn’t been. They hadn’t used a condom in the elevator, and again during that last time at his home. So really... She hadn’t had a period since the elevator. “No, I guess we weren’t.”
“And it didn’t occur to you until just now that you might be pregnant?”
“No,” she said, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide. “No. I’m not... I’m not.”
“You have no way of knowing that.”
No. She didn’t. Because she hadn’t taken a test. And, while she had never been particularly regular, that hadn’t exactly been a problem because she had been a virgin. Now...it was a bit suspicious.
“I mean, I would prefer to wait a few days...”
He had already pulled out a cell phone. “Yes, Alethea? Find a discreet women’s doctor in Manhattan who can see a patient immediately. Text me the information once you have it. When I say immediately, I mean I’m about to get in the car and start driving. They had better be ready to see us.”
He hung up, and she could only stare at him. “What are you doing?”
“We are going to answer this question once and for all, agape. And make no mistake, if you are carrying my child there is no question that you are coming back to Greece with me. Immediately.”
* * *
He could do nothing but pace outside the office at the posh, private medical facility he had taken Elle to.
He had found himself back in Manhattan for business reasons, and then he had displayed a characteristic weakness and found himself at Elle’s building.
He did not know what manner of witchcraft Elle possessed that she made it impossible for him to forget her. Forget how she made him feel. Whether it was four weeks in the past, or nine years—before he had ever even touched her. She was a woman who lingered in his mind in a way that none before her—or since—ever had.
He wondered now if she had been some sort of bad omen. If the fact that he had never been able to get her out of his mind had been a warning of some kind. If she were truly pregnant with his child, he could not discount that. He had never intended to have children. But the moment the idea that she might be pregnant had entered his mind he had known that he would take possession of his child.
After his own childhood, after the way he had lost his father, he knew he would never subject his own child to such a thing. To a life without the man who was meant to protect him.
He gritted his teeth. His own father’s feelings had hardly been his fault. He had been pushed into ruin by David St. James. The fault would always lie with St. James. Apollo however was standing on his own two feet. No one was pushing him anywhere.
The door opened, and Elle emerged, clutching a few pieces of paper, her face pale. He didn’t need her to speak to know what the answer was.
He had never imagined being in this situation. He supposed that any man who was sexually active could potentially face it, but he had always been very careful. So it was never anything he had considered seriously. But he had not been careful with Elle. The theme in their relationship, and the consequences of that, were now coming home to roost.
There was no panic. There was not even any rage, though he had expected it. No, there was nothing but cold, clean determination. He knew exactly what he was going to do. What he would demand.
“I...”
“Yes, I think I can guess.”
“I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I know exactly what we are going to do.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yes. You will be coming back to Athens with me. And then, agape, you and I are going to marry.”
* * *
Elle was dimly aware of the fact that she was sitting in Apollo’s limo, essentially in a catatonic state. But she had just found out she was pregnant with the baby of a man who despised her and her family, a man who had left her jobless and broken when he had ended their affair.
She had never really thought about being a mother. Her own mother had abandoned her early on and not bothered to keep in touch at all. Her stepmother was a lovely woman, but often silent next to her husband.
And Elle’s father was so...imposing. He didn’t bend. He didn’t show affection. It was like loving a rock.
She had never imagined trying to re-create that parent-child relationship with herself in the parenting hot seat. It seemed...completely unappealing. It also meant she was linked to Apollo. Forever.
As if you weren’t before.
She gritted her teeth. She had no idea what to say. No idea what to do next. And as far as she knew she was being shanghaied and sent to Athens again.
That thought sent her into action. “I’m not going to marry you.”
He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Then prepare yourself for a custody battle that will drain you of your every resource.”
She blinked. “Who said I would fight you for custody?”
The moment she said it, she realized that she would. Not because her parents had been wonderful, not because they had made her long for a parent-child relationship in her own life. But because they had demonstrated in a million small ways how unimportant she was. She would be damned if her own child would walk through life feeling like their mother couldn’t be bothered with them.
Just the thought made her stomach clench in agony. Her own little one, believing that she didn’t want them. She wanted to apologize to the little life inside her. As though it had somehow sensed her hesitance.
“If you don’t feel strongly enough about our child to stand and fight for them, then I would gladly have you step aside.”
“I won’t,” she said, her tone infused with conviction.
The numbness was starting to wear off. And even though she couldn’t quite imagine what it would be like to have a child, even though she wasn’t sure if she was devastated or happy, she knew that she wouldn’t stand aside.
“You just said—”
“Yes, well, I am trying to figure out exactly where I stand. It might surprise you to know this but I didn’t exactly fantasize about a life with a picket fence, a husband and children.”
“It doesn’t surprise me. A woman with as much white in her apartment as you have doesn’t seem to be planning ahead for sticky fingers.”
“I wasn’t. You can be sure of that. But I’m also not one to walk away from my responsibilities. And I don’t want any child of mine going through life imagining they aren’t wanted.”
“Then, marriage it will be.”
Her mind was ticking over at a million miles a minute. “I would have a few conditions,” she said.
She could not believe she had just said that. She knew that you weren’t supposed to negotiate with terrorists or superalpha Greek billionaires who had far too high of an opinion of themselves. So, she didn’t know why she was attempting it.
“Conditions, agape?” He sounded...angry. But interested.
“Yes. Conditions.” Now she