Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child - Page 28

“Sim, of course.” Biskreta, he was trying to take care of her as he'd never taken care of any woman—he was trying to make her his bride! Leaning forward, he persisted, “Ellie, I am serious. I wish to marry you.”

She cast her blue gaze on him, then looked away. She didn't believe him.

The thought was ironic. He'd never thought he would so willingly give up his freedom, but here he was, begging a woman to marry him. Only to have her turn him down!

But Ellie would be his. Diogo wanted to keep her for his children, sim. But also for himself. He would keep her in the nursery. Keep her in his kitchen.

Keep her in his bed.

Diogo had made up his mind. Marriage was the best—the only—solution for all of them.

He glanced back at the monitor. Watching the tiny flickers of two heartbeats on the ultrasound screen, his own heart enlarged in his chest. He glanced down at Ellie. Her sweet, pale face looked back at him.

“Twins,” she said in a low voice. “Can you handle two?”

“I can handle more than that.” But two children needed two parents. He opened his mouth to inform her that they would be married today, whether she wished it or not.

Then, looking at her pale, beautiful face, he stopped.

He'd seduced Ellie. Gotten her pregnant. Broken up her wedding and dragged her to Rio. He had completely turned her life upside down.

She was the mother of his children. She deserved his care. So why not be gentle? Instead of bullying her into marriage, why not simply woo her? After all—he smiled to himself—he'd never had any woman resist him for long.

“It's all going to be fine.” He reached out to stroke her hair, quelling the impatience in his blood. “You'll see.”

Their need to marry was so obvious to him now. He couldn't imagine why she'd turned him down, but he wouldn't let any foolish feminine whims prevent him from doing what was best for all of them. He couldn't.

Tonight, he would give her a chance to catch her breath. Both she and the baby needed a full night's rest. Tomorrow, he'd lure her with all the skill he possessed. Entice her with the romance all women craved. He would convince her. He would persuade. He'd give her a day of romance. One day.

Then, willing or not, Ellie would be his bride.

CHAPTER NINE

PUTTING ASIDE HER pregnancy book and empty pint of strawberry ice cream, Ellie curled up into a ball beneath the bedcovers and stared at the fire in the stark white fireplace. She heard the hard rain patter against the bedroom windows. Days of sunshine, nights of rain. Listening to the dying crackle of the fire and the wind howling outside, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Diogo's pillow.

Such a strange afternoon.

After the ultrasound, Diogo had taken her out shopping, insisting that she buy whatever would make her comfortable for her stay. She'd actually enjoyed their afternoon together. He'd flirted with her. And she'd caught herself flirting back.

Then halfway through the candlelight dinner served by his housekeeper, just as she was tucking into her second plate of lasagna and steamed broccoli, Diogo had gotten a phone call. Without explanation, he'd kissed Ellie on the temple and left her to finish dinner alone!

Staring into the fire, she wondered moodily who'd called him.

Thank heaven she'd had the sense to refuse his marriage proposal. He'd just been trying to alleviate his guilt by pretending to do the right thing. What would he have done if she'd said “yes”? Probably exactly what he was doing now—gone straight to another woman's arms.

It could have been a business call, she told herself. Some late-night problem with the Mongolian iron mine that required a phone call. It could have been business, right? Right?

Yeah, right.

But he had asked her to be his wife. She still couldn't believe it. The playboy of the Western world had proposed to her. Who would ever believe it? No one.

So who would ever believe she had refused him?

She pulled the bed's comforter up to her ears to keep such unsettling thoughts away. The sheets smelled fresh and clean with a faint scent of his cologne. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against his pillow. She yawned, feeling more exhausted than she'd ever felt in her life.

But she knew she couldn't sleep. Not when, at any moment, he might return and join her in the bed. She yawned. She had to be ready. Ready to fight off not just his seduction, but her own body's traitorous desire.

“Ellie.”

Diogo was shaking her. She sat up unsteadily from where she'd been sprawled across the bottom half of his bed. The fire was nothing but ash, and the howling of the wind against the windows had faded.

She realized it was morning. The rain had stopped, and as he opened the shades, she blearily saw the gray-pink hue of dawn across the Atlantic Ocean. She felt disoriented in her rumpled pajamas and messy hair.

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