The Tycoon's Secret Affair / Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
I know. I spoke to him before I came back to your room.”
Her fingers curled into tight fists, but she kept the frustration from her expression. Or at least she tried.
“I don’t need you hovering over me at every moment. You can drop me off at my apartment—”
Before she got any further he shook his head resolutely, his expression implacable.
“I’ve arranged for the rental of a house until your surgery. I’ll take you there of course. I’ve hired a nurse to see to your needs—”
It was her turn to break in, her head shaking so stiffly that her neck hurt.
“No. Absolutely not. I won’t have some nurse hired to babysit me. It’s ridiculous. I’m not an invalid. I have to stay off my feet. Fine, I can do that without a nurse.”
“Why must you be so difficult?” he asked mildly. “I’m only doing what is best for your health.”
“If you want to hire someone, hire a cook,” she muttered. “I’m terrible at it.”
Amusement curved his hard mouth into a smile. It was amazing what a difference it made in his face. He looked almost boyish. She stared at him in astonishment.
“A cook can be arranged. I, of course, wish to see that my daughter and her mother are well fed. Does this mean you aren’t going to fight moving in with me?”
She made a sound of protest, but it quickly died. She’d walked right into that one. With a long suffering sigh, she uttered a simple, “No.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“You can quit the gloating. It’s not very attractive on you.”
His grin broadened. The amazing thing was, it made him look quite charming. Dangerous, Jewel. He’s dangerous. Don’t fall for that charm.
“I’m going to take you home with me, Jewel,” he said patiently. “There’s little point in arguing. All the arrangements have been made. Tomorrow I hope to see to the wedding arrangements. Understandably, concerns for your health came before our marriage, but once I have you settled in, I’ll see to the necessary plans.”
The beginnings of a headache thrummed at her temples. Was this what her life was going to be like? Him calling all the shots and her meekly following along? Not if she could help it. Right now, she was tired, worried and more than a little stressed, and as weak as it made her feel to hand everything over to him, it also felt good to relinquish her problems. Even if it was just for a little while.
“Does your head hurt you?” he asked.
She drew her hand away, unaware until now that she’d been rubbing her forehead. “Stress,” she said in a shaky voice. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. I’m tired.”
What an idiot she was, outlining her weaknesses in stark detail. As if he hadn’t already honed in on her disadvantages.
To her surprise, he didn’t make any sharp or sarcastic remarks. He took her hands gently in his, and lowered them to her lap. Then he carefully helped her up.
Too stunned to do more than gape at him, she cooperated without complaint. He stepped behind her and sank down onto the seat, pulling her down onto his lap.
She landed with a jolt of awareness that five long months hadn’t diminished in the least. There was still potent chemistry between them, much to her dismay.
His warmth wrapped around her, soothing her despite her rioting emotions. She was almost in complete panic when his fingers dug into her hair and began massaging her scalp.
A soft moan of surrender escaped her. Bliss. Sheer, unadulterated bliss. His strong fingers worked to her forehead and then her temples.
Bonelessly she melted further into his chest. He stiffened slightly and then relaxed as he continued his ministrations. For several long minutes, neither spoke, and only the sound of her soft breathing could be heard.
“Better?” he asked softly.
She nodded, unable to form coherent words. She was floating on a cloud of sheer delight.
“You are worrying yourself too much, yineka mou. The stress is not good for you or the baby. Everything will be all right. You have my word on it.”
The statement was intended to comfort her, and she did appreciate his effort. But for some reason, his vow sounded ominous to her ears. Almost like this was a turning point in her life where nothing would ever be the same. Like she was giving up control, not just for the short term.
Of course things are changing irrevocably, you idiot. You’re pregnant and getting married. How much more change could you possibly make?
Still, she tried to draw some comfort in the serious promise in his voice. He didn’t trust her. She didn’t think he even particularly liked her, but he desired her, that much was obvious. And she desired him. It wasn’t enough. Not even close, but it was all they had.
Not exactly a prime start to a marriage.
Chapter Seven
Jewel tilted her head so she could see out the window as Piers pulled through the gates of a sprawling estate covered in lush green landscaping and well manicured shrubbery. The house came into view when they topped the hill, and her eyes widened in appreciation. Despite the size of the grounds, the house was what she’d deem modest in comparison.
Still it was gorgeous. Two stories with dormers and ivy clinging to the front. He’d said he rented the place. Who knew such places were for rent?
He parked in front of the garage that was adjacent to the main house. Behind them, the car carrying her newly assigned security detail pulled in. Before she could get out, one of the guards appeared and opened her door. He hovered protectively, shielding her…from what? Only when Piers reached for her hand, did the guard step away.
“I’m not helpless, you know,” she said dryly when he tucked her against his side. But she would have been lying if she denied that having his help thrilled her in an inexplicable way. His body was warm and solid against hers. Strong. The idea that she wasn’t alone nearly brought her to her knees.
“I know this,” he said in his brusque accent. “But you’ve only just gotten out of the hospital, and you’re carrying a child. If at any time you need help, it is certainly now.”
She relaxed against him, refusing to spoil their first moments home with senseless, petty arguments.
Home. The word struck her in the chest, and even as she thought it, she shook her head in mute denial. She had no home.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked as they stopped at the door.
Embarrassed over her emotional display, she uttered a low denial.
He opened the door, and they stepped into the expansive foyer. Beyond was an elegant double staircase curving toward the top where a hallway connected the two sides of the house.
“Come into the living room, and I’ll see to your things.”
She allowed him to lead her to a comfortable leather couch that afforded a view of the patio through triple French doors. It would be a perfect breakfast spot, she thought with longing. The morning sun would shine perfectly on the garden table.
What would it be like to have a home like this? Filled with laughter and children. And then it occurred to her that it was entirely possible that part of that dream would come true.
She looked down at the gentle mound covered by her thin shirt and slowly smoothed her hand over it. The baby kicked, and Jewel smiled.
She wanted to give her daughter all the things she’d never had, the things she longed for. Love, acceptance. A stable home.
Would