The Greek Prince's Chosen Wife. Sandra Marton
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The taste of her. The feel of her. He was entitled to that. Hell, he’d been accused of something he had not done.
Why not do it now?
Lift Ivy into his arms. Carry her up the stairs to his bedroom. Take everything she wanted him to believe he’d taken before, again and again and again…
“Please,” she whispered, “please—”
Her voice was soft. Dazed. It made him want her even more.
Deliberately he slid his hand inside her jacket and cupped the delicate weight of one breast.
“Please, what?” he growled. “Touch you? Take you?”
His fingers swept over her breast, blood thundering in his ears when he felt the thrust of her nipple through the silk that covered it. She moaned against his mouth.
A wave of lust rolled through him, shocking him with its intensity.
She moaned again and he gathered her closer. Slid his hands under the waistband of her black jeans. Felt the coolness of her buttocks, the silk of her flesh.
Primal desire flooded his senses. He wanted her, no matter what she was. And she wanted him. Wanted him. Wanted him…
Panagia mou! Damian flung her from him and stepped back. Tears were streaming down her face. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have honestly thought she was weeping.
“I can’t believe Kay loved you, that she wanted to give you a child!”
“Your story’s getting old. And confused. You’re the one who’s pregnant. Who I took to bed, remember?”
“That’s not true! Why do you keep saying it? You know we didn’t go to bed!”
“Right,” he said, his voice cold with contempt and sarcasm. “I keep forgetting that. We didn’t. We did it standing up. Or sitting in a chair. Or on a sofa—”
“There was no chair. No sofa. You know that. There was just—just your sperm. A syringe. And—and me.”
“Yeah. Sure. You, my sperm, a syringe…” Damian jerked back. “What?”
“You damned well know what! And you didn’t even have the—the decency to let Kay be artificially inseminated by a physician. Oh, no. You wanted to protect your precious privacy! So you—you used a—a condom to—to—” Her voice turned bitter. “I knew what you were when you didn’t ask to meet me in advance. When you didn’t care enough to come with Kay the day she—the day I—the day it took place.”
Damian wanted to say something but he couldn’t. He felt as if his head were in a vise.
Her story was fantastic. Far more interesting than the usual He made me pregnant tale.
And the media loved fantasy.
They’d fall on this like hyenas on a wounded antelope. By the time a different scandal knocked the story off the front pages, the damage would have been done. To his name, to Aristedes Shipping, the company he’d spent his adult life rebuilding.
“Nothing to say, Your Highness?” Ivy put her hands on her hips and eyed him with derision. “Or have you finally figured out that denial will only take you so far?”
Tossing this woman out on her backside was no longer a viable option. She was too clever for such easy dismissal.
“You’re right about that,” he said calmly. “Denial only goes so far and then it’s time to take appropriate action.” He closed the distance between them, relishing the way she stumbled back. “You will take a pregnancy test. Then, if you’re really pregnant, a paternity test.”
Ivy stared at him. She couldn’t think of a reason he’d want her to take such tests…Unless he was telling the truth. Unless he really hadn’t known about the baby.
And if he hadn’t…What would happen once he did?
“I don’t want to take any tests,” she said quickly. “You said you didn’t want the baby. That’s fine. You only have to give me a document—”
“No, glyka mou. It is you who will provide me with a document that legally establishes that you and I and a syringe never met, except inside your scheming little brain.”
“But—”
Damian took her arm, marched her to the elevator and pushed her inside it. Seconds later, the doors slid shut in her face.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT TROUBLED her all the way back to her apartment.
If Kay’s lover had known about the baby, if he’d orchestrated it as Kay claimed, why would the details of the baby’s conception have shaken him?
And he had been shaken.
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