Pregnant By The Commanding Greek. Natalie Anderson
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the only thing that work for me.’ She tried to pull the journal back but he planted his hand down to keep it there. His fingers brushed against her for the second time that day. Skin touched skin. She stilled, as did he.
A millisecond later she snatched her hand back. But he knew she’d felt that current of electricity flow between them.
He turned the pages of her journal, refusing to feel any remorse—she was the one who’d offered it for his viewing. But to his disappointment there were no deepest desires on show inside. Only ruthless organisation, as she’d said.
‘Everything in your life is dictated by a list?’ There were reminders, shopping lists, ticked-off tasks, pros and cons for other things… ‘It’s a lot of lists.’ He flicked through more pages, wishing there were something far more personal in it. ‘And in a rainbow of colours.’
‘It doesn’t need to be boring. Right? But I’m no artist, so I just choose a different colour for each…’
‘I have a planner,’ he offered idly. ‘But it’s online.’
‘Online?’ She shuddered theatrically. ‘I couldn’t get all these lists on the one screen. And what if it got deleted?’
‘What if you lost your journal?’ he countered with the obvious. ‘What if someone you don’t want to read it gets hold of it?’
Her impish grin darted back. ‘That’s why there are only lists and reminders.’
‘So, nothing too personal or incriminating?’ He sighed with genuine disappointment. ‘You’re not a risk-taker, then.’
Her eyes widened.
‘You won’t run the risk of someone discovering your secrets,’ he explained.
‘Perhaps I don’t have any,’ she muttered.
‘Everyone has secrets.’ And desires.
Silent, she just gazed back at him.
‘And I’ll bet you’re not really going clubbing,’ he added quietly.
This time her smile was more sheepish than impish, and she shook her head.
‘Have you had dinner?’ He didn’t give her time to answer. ‘I don’t think you’ve had time if you came straight from your shift at Cavendish. You must be hungry.’
He saw her hesitate and spoke again before she could deny it. ‘Have dinner with me.’
‘No thanks,’ she instantly answered.
‘Am I that awful?’ he shot back, unafraid to challenge her directly. He knew what he wanted. He knew what she wanted too. He was just more honest about it.
She stared at him for a moment, shocked. ‘No, I—’
‘Well, don’t let me down so roughly. It’s only dinner.’
Roughly? Ettie narrowed her eyes on him. He was pulling her leg, right? Behind that serious facade there was some humour. ‘It’s not a wise idea. You’re my boss.’
‘It’s not a date, just dinner. If it makes you feel better, you can tell me about life on the concierge desk. I need to know how the whole operation works. There’ll be no repercussions for complete honesty.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, I’m not really your boss.’
Yeah, right. ‘You own the building I work in.’
‘But a management company employs the staff.’
‘Do you own the management company?’ She wouldn’t have been surprised if he did.
‘They’re contracted… I don’t own them.’
‘So that makes it okay?’ Her heart was pounding unnaturally fast.
‘I think it creates a technicality we can take advantage of.’ He looked right at her. Those amber flecks in his eyes lit up with every word. ‘And you like breaking the stupid rules, right? This is a stupid one. Besides, I’m only living in the penthouse while I get my head around the building. Then I’ll lease it to a client and move to my next investment, so you won’t see me much.’
His message couldn’t be clearer. He was saying he’d stay out of her way. That his presence was temporary. That this was just dinner. Just one night.
But Ettie needed a moment.
‘You don’t ever want to stay in one of your buildings?’ She was intrigued by his transitory lifestyle.
‘I like projects. I like the excitement and unique challenge of each one, and once I’ve overcome that challenge it’s time to move on to another.’
She suspected he wasn’t just talking building acquisition. It was lovers as well. ‘You get bored easily?’
A speculative gleam heated his eyes even more. Yeah, he was talking on more than one level. But he answered with that customary seriousness. ‘I like to keep busy. I like having problems to grapple with.’
‘You don’t ever want to just blob out on the beach?’
He cocked his head and considered it briefly. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever done.’
‘Seriously?’ She frowned. ‘Not ever?’ Didn’t his parents own all those hotels in Greece? Wasn’t that the ultimate holiday destination? ‘You never have holidays?’
‘Do you?’ he countered.
‘I don’t have much choice.’ She grimaced. ‘I work hard but I don’t have the same financial rewards, and I have obligations…’ Which she didn’t want to go into with him right now. ‘What’s the point in all your success if you don’t stop and celebrate it every so often?’
‘The point is the success itself,’ he answered.
‘You don’t get tired?’ She was flummoxed. If she could take a break somewhere warm and beautiful, she’d be there in a heartbeat.
‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured. ‘I know how to relax.’
Yeah, she bet he did. She sent him a reproachful glare and he suddenly laughed. Ettie gaped, stunned at his instant transformation from unsmiling autocrat to hot, buttered hunk. She dragged oxygen into her tight lungs. It wasn’t right that a man should be so gorgeous.
‘It’s not what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘Well, not entirely.’
‘How do you know what I’m thinking?’
‘It’s written all over your face.’
Hopefully not everything she was thinking. And hopefully it wasn’t obvious how her innards were positively melting. ‘So you don’t do this often? Pick up women and take them to dinner?’
‘No, not often, actually. Does that surprise you?’ His expression returned to serious as he studied her. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘You’ve been seen with other women,’ she said.
His eyebrows shot up. ‘When?’
‘Last night, apparently.’ She tried to play it cool but she was already regretting bringing it up. ‘A woman leaving your apartment.’
He’d probably been celebrating his first night in Cavendish House.
Now Leon studied her for another long moment. She knew he was thinking. She just wished she knew what.
‘You were talking about me.’ His lips curved ever so slightly. ‘You were curious.’
Before she had the chance to deny it, or to apologise, or to melt in a swelter of embarrassment, he continued softly.
‘Was she seen in my company?’ he asked. ‘I don’t think so. The woman who left my apartment late last night had arrived only minutes earlier. She’s an acquaintance