The Pregnant Mistress - Page 24

“No,” Sam said, smiling across the small table, “you’re not. I’m serious, Demetrios. I want a cane. I need to be able to get around on my own.”

It turned out the gardener still had a cane he’d used a few years ago. Demetrios claimed he hadn’t thought of mentioning it and besides, it would be useless on stairs because it no longer had a rubber tip, which was why she had to let him carry her through the house and out to the pool on Sunday morning.

She clung to his neck and tried to work up some anger or at least some irritation but the truth was that it was nice to feel so cherished. Still, she protested when he put her down gently on a chaise longue and told her she could get some sun while he did his laps.

“Do you really expect me to lie here like a potato, baking in the sun?”

“I like your swimsuit,” he said. “What there is of it.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“A woman who wears three small triangles and calls it a swimsuit runs that risk.”

Sam sighed. “It’s a bikini.”

“It’s a risk to a man’s health.”

She gave up. How could she quarrel with a man who was looking at her as he was? She smiled and looped her arms around his neck.

“I’m glad you like it. I tossed it into my luggage at the last minute.”

“Ah. So you planned on basking on the beach, even as you accepted my job offer?”

“Of course.”

“Did you think of me when you packed it?”

He grinned. Sam grinned back.

“I thought of Saint Tropez. That’s where I bought it.”

He touched a finger lightly to one slender strap. “Most of the good beaches in Saint Tropez are nude.”

“I know. I couldn’t bring myself to go nude, so I bought this instead.”

Demetrios slid a finger under the strap and drew it down her shoulder. “And? Did it help?”

“Oh, definitely.” She laughed. “But not in the way I expected. I felt totally self-conscious. I was the only woman wearing a suit. So, after a few minutes, I took it off.”

“You took it off,” he said solemnly, and told himself it was ridiculous to feel jealous of any man who had seen her that day. “How?”

“What do you mean, how? I just—Demetrios?” She caught his hand as he undid the clasp and slipped the top of the bikini from her shoulders.

“Yes?”

His voice had roughened. She could see a muscle ticking in his cheek, see the darkness in his eyes, a darkness she had learned could sweep her away.

“Someone might see us,” she whispered as he cupped her breasts in his hands.

“No one will see us.” He bent his head and she moaned as he put his mouth to her flesh. “The cypresses that ring the pool are thick, kalóz mou. We are as alone here as we would be in bed.”

She lay back, lifted her hips as he freed her of the thong bottom, watched through narrowed eyes as he skimmed off his trunks. He had done it again, ignored what she said, but as he gathered her to him all that mattered was the feel of him in her arms while the warm Aegean breeze sighed through the trees.

* * *

Monday morning, Sam opened her eyes and saw the cane leaning against the nightstand, complete with rubber tip.

She saw Demetrios, too. He was standing before the mirror, fully dressed, adjusting his tie.

She sat up, holding the covers to her breasts. “Did I oversleep?”

He turned around. She felt a chill whip through her blood. He was smiling, but there was something removed in the way he looked at her.

“No. Not at all. I just thought it would be easier if I showered and dressed first.”

“Yes. Of course.” She looked at the cane. “I see you found the tip for the cane.”

He shrugged. “The gardener found it.”

“Ah. Well—well, I’ll have to thank him.”

“I already did. We couldn’t very well start the morning’s meeting with me carrying you into the conference room, could we?” He smiled again, then turned back to the mirror. “I’m going to get some coffee. Phone down when you’re ready and I’ll come help you down the stairs.” His eyes met hers in the mirror. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression impossible to read. “That is, if I’m right and you intend to go to work today…?”

“Certainly.” Sam felt her throat constrict. Still holding the covers, she swung her feet to the floor. “Why would you even ask?”

“Why, indeed?” He smiled, made one last adjustment to his tie and left the room.

The door swung shut. Sam stared after it, then took a deep breath. Was it all over? Just one weekend, and he’d had enough of her? She leaned on the nightstand, reached for the cane and hobbled to the bathroom. It didn’t seem possible, not after last night. They’d made love for hours.

But just before they fell asleep, she’d remembered that the next day was Monday. And she’d known, with a little start of surprise, that she didn’t want to go to the office. She wanted to be alone with Demetrios. She’d started to tell him that…and then she’d thought, what if he didn’t feel the same way? So she’d said, lightly, “Don’t forget to set the alarm clock,” and held her breath, waiting for him to say he didn’t give a damn about the clock, or work, or anything except her.

But hadn’t. He’d reached for the clock, shot her a quick smile and said he was just going to do that.

It was foolish, that such a thing should have bothered her. They were business colleagues first, lovers second. They weren’t even supposed to be lovers…And yet, she hadn’t wanted him to set the damned clock. And she certainly hadn’t wanted to wake up and find him dressed. She’d wanted to awaken in his arms, to hear him say he didn’t give a damn about time or work or anything but her…

What kind of idiocy was that? She had a job to do and she would do it. And if Demetrios had changed his mind about wanting her in his life, he was going to have to look her in the eye and say so. She’d be perfectly content to go back to the guest house and to her normal life.

If the great Demetrios Karas thought she was going to plead with him to want her, he was wrong.

* * *

Demetrios stood in the kitchen, sipping his coffee.

If Samantha thought he was going to plead with her to ask him to cancel today’s meeting, she was wrong.

He’d thought of doing it the instant he woke, then dismissed the idea as nonsense. He’d never done such a thing in his life. These were important meetings, and he had always born his responsibilities well. He was the son of a father who’d started as a deckhand on a tramp steamer and ended up owning that ship and a fleet of others, a man who knew that hard work and risk came first.

It was an admirable heritage, one to live up to, and Demetrios always had.

Still, one more canceled meeting more would not ruin anything.

He’d looked at Sam’s face, only a breath from his. Would she think that it would be far more important to spend another day alone than to sit in a room filled with other people and pretend to keep her mind on business? She was so serious about her work. Not that he didn’t admire her. It was an admirable quality in a woman—but other things suddenly seemed to matter more.

He’d gazed at her for a long time, watching her as she slept curled on her side next to him. How beautiful she was. Such long lashes. Such a sweet mouth. Carefully, he drew down the covers, saw the gentle fullness of her breast, the curve of her hip…

And ached to touch her. Just one touch. One kiss, and he knew what would happen, that she would awaken, smile, go into his arms…

And tell him today was a business day.

Why had he even imagined she’d want to forget the world and stay here, with him? Last night, after they’d made love and he was about to turn out the light, she’d asked him if he’d set the alarm clock. The question had caught him by surprise, and he hadn’t been sure how it made him feel. Part of him had loved the way she’d said it, as if they’d been sleeping to

gether forever. Part of him tensed at the realization that she’d think of business after the weekend they’d spent.

“I was just going to do that,” he’d said, even though it wasn’t true. All he’d been thinking of was taking her in his arms and going to sleep, holding her close.

He’d remembered all that early this morning and he’d lost the desire to kiss her awake. He’d forgotten the alarm, just as he’d been the one who’d thought to cancel Saturday’s breakfast meeting.

If Sam wanted to spend today with him, she was going to have to suggest it.

That’s stupid, Karas.

The voice inside him had spoken with amusement that bordered on contempt but he’d ignored it, eased his arm from beneath Sam’s head, risen from the bed and turned off the alarm clock. And, just as he’d known she would, when she awoke her first thought had been of her job and not of him.

Hell. Demetrios frowned into his coffee cup. He was not only being stupid, he was being childish. If he wanted them to skip today’s meeting, all he had to do was say so. He was her employer. Maybe she was waiting for him to make the decision. For all he knew she’d smile, open her arms and say she’d been hoping he’d say something like that.

Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance
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