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His Pregnant Bride: Pregnant by the Greek Tycoon / His Pregnant Princess / Pregnant: Father Needed. Robyn DonaldЧитать онлайн книгу.

His Pregnant Bride: Pregnant by the Greek Tycoon / His Pregnant Princess / Pregnant: Father Needed - Robyn Donald


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scorn. ‘I have commitments here.’

      Angolos’s facial muscles clenched, giving his face the appearance of stone as he asked in a voice devoid of all emotion, ‘Does he know you are married?’

      Georgie shook her head, frowning. ‘He…? Will you stop talking in riddles…?’ Then as his meaning hit her angry heat flooded her face! ‘I don’t believe you! Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to commit to another man? After you!’ she stressed.

      ‘You don’t have a boyfriend.’ He sounded cautious, but not unhappy with this information. ‘Then what commitments are we talking about?’

      ‘I have a job, I’m contractually obliged to give the school notice and even if I wasn’t I wouldn’t dream of leaving them in the lurch.’ She made a quick mental assessment. ‘I won’t be able to leave until half-term at the earliest.’

      ‘And when is half-term?’

      ‘The end of October.’

      ‘That is not acceptable.’

      She shrugged and thrust her hands in the pockets of her jeans. ‘Tough.’

      ‘You really have changed.’

      ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

      ‘I’m sure I would be able to get the school to release you immediately.’

      Georgie had no doubt he could, though he would probably delegate the task. ‘And I suppose that would involve throwing sacks full of money at them.’ Sometimes the Constantine name was enough.

      ‘Not sacks full.’

      ‘Typical!

      The way he was looking at her made it obvious he was totally mystified by her anger. ‘Don’t take that “I’m being reasonable and you’re being irrational” tone with me; I always hated it!’ she told him.

      ‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’

      ‘I’m not your sister. I don’t want, or need, you to make my problems go away by producing your cheque-book. Besides, this time I’m not burning my bridges. If things don’t work out I’m going to need a reference.’

      ‘To anticipate failure is hardly a positive attitude.’

      ‘Maybe not, but it’s a practical one,’ she said, responding to his criticism with a careless shrug. ‘I’m a mother now. I can’t act on a whim—I have to consider the consequences of my actions.’

      ‘And you married me on a whim—is that what you’re saying?’

      Her mouth twisted in a cynical smile of self-derision. ‘I like to think of it more as temporary insanity.’

      Oblivious to the fact that her confidence had caused Angolos to stiffen, she took the top item on a pile of freshly laundered clothes waiting to be put away and began to fold it with geometric precision. The mundane action helped steady her nerves.

      ‘It’s a pity really we didn’t just have sex as my dad suggested.’

      ‘Your father told you to sleep with me?’

      His outraged tone brought her head up and she found herself looking into eyes that had narrowed into icy, incredulous slits.

      ‘Well, wouldn’t you prefer your daughter to sleep with the wrong man rather than marry him?’ she charged impatiently.

      ‘If my daughter was involved with the wrong man I would not advise her to have sex with him,’ he assured her grimly.

      ‘What would you do?’ she asked, even though she could hazard a guess from his expression.

      ‘I would remove the man from her life.’

      ‘And if he didn’t want to go?’

      He looked astonished that she needed to ask. ‘I would not give him a choice.’

      She shook her head. ‘I think it’s just as well that Nicky wasn’t a girl.’

      ‘Our next child might be, though.’

      The colour drained from her face. ‘What did you say?’ she choked.

      His brows lifted. ‘Would you condemn Nicky to be an only child?’ he wanted to know.

      ‘Me condemn…! You really are a piece of work. Don’t you dare try and use moral blackmail on me.’

      ‘Moral blackmail.’

      ‘Don’t give me that innocent look. I’ve seen wolves who looked more innocent than you.’

      The accusation drew a grin from him. ‘I believe that wolves suffer from a very bad press. They are not the bad guys of popular fiction. Did you know they mate for life?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m willing to give wolves the benefit of the doubt,’ she gritted. ‘But we both know that you’d do whatever it took to get what you wanted.’

      ‘You don’t want another baby?’ Despite his mild tone his eyes were fixed with a curious intensity on her face.

      She blinked; the question took her aback. Did she want another baby? ‘That’s not the point—’

      ‘I would say it’s very much the point,’ he inserted drily.

      ‘It’s far too early…’ She stopped and angled a searching look at his lean face. ‘Do you want a baby?’

      ‘And if I said I did, would it make a difference to you?’

      She looked from the sensual curve of his mouth to the velvety darkness of his eyes and felt her concentration slipping… Her expression hardened.

      ‘You expect me to believe you give a damn about what I think?’ She released a scornful trill of laughter and saw the anger flicker in his liquid dark eyes. ‘Let’s not drift into fantasy land here…’

      Angolos cut across her. ‘Actually I don’t feel that having a baby at this time would be a sensible idea.’

      The colour in her cheeks receded. She ought to welcome his comment, she told herself crossly. Anyone would think I wanted to have his baby. ‘When we don’t even know if we’ll be together in two weeks’ time, let alone two years, I couldn’t agree more,’ she contended coolly.

      ‘The positive attitude again. You know, Georgette, cynical doesn’t suit you.’

      ‘Get used to it, Angolos,’ she suggested, maintaining her indifferent pose.

      ‘Do you realise that the moment I start to get close to you…’ He took an actual step towards her and without thinking Georgie retreated two steps. ‘I was going to say, you push me away, but maybe that should have been you run away.’

      A defiant frown formed on her face as she met his ironic smile. ‘I’m really not in the mood for your silly games.’

      ‘I’m not playing games, Georgette. I know you want to punish me,’ he revealed in a harsh voice, ‘but hasn’t it occurred to you that I’m not the only one suffering here? You’re hurting too. You want me, Georgette. We both know that.’

      She opened her mouth to angrily rebut this claim and stopped. She released a long, slow, shuddering breath. ‘I am hurting, but there’s not a lot I can do about it. And I doubt very much if getting into your bed is going to make that hurt go away. I will probably sleep with you, Angolos.’ She saw triumph flare in his eyes and added with a self-derisive shrug, ‘You’re right—I have very little self-control where you are concerned. But I can’t let myself trust you again, Angolos; you hurt me so much.’

      The taut silence lengthened. Angolos walked over to the window. ‘That cuts both ways.’

      Bewildered, she stared at his broad back. ‘I hurt you…?’

      Angolos


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