At the Tycoon's Service: The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress / The Tycoon's Rebel Bride / The Tycoon’s Secret Affair. Maya Banks
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breaths, and even in sleep, tension furrowed her brow. He moved closer and touched his fingers to her forehead, smoothing them across the pale skin.
She was as lovely as ever, even in her weakened state. Raven curls lay haphazardly against the pillow. He took one between his fingers and moved it from her forehead. It was longer now, no longer the shorter cap of curls that had flown about her head as she laughed or smiled.
Her skin had lost its previous glow, but he knew restoring her health would bring it back. Her eyes had been dull, frightened, but he remembered well the brilliant blue sparkle, how enchanting she looked when she was happy.
He cursed and moved away from the bed. It had all been a ruse. She hadn’t ever been happy. Truly happy. It seemed he’d been incapable of making her so. All the time they were together, she’d plotted against him, stolen from him and his brothers.
Though he’d considered her his mistress, he’d never placed her in the same category as his others. What he’d shared with her hadn’t been mercenary, or so he’d thought. In the end, it had boiled down to money and betrayal. Something he was well used to with women.
Yet he still wanted her. She still burned in his veins, an addiction he wasn’t equipped to fight. He shook his head grimly. She was pregnant with his child, and that must take precedence above all else. They would be forced together by the child, their futures irrevocably intertwined. But he didn’t have to like it, and he didn’t have to surrender anything more than his protection and his body.
If she would once again be placed under his protection, then he’d do all he could to ensure she had the best care, her and their baby, but he’d never trust her. She would warm his bed, and he wouldn’t lie and say that prospect wasn’t appealing. But she would get nothing more from him.
Two days later, Marley sat nervously in a wheelchair, her fingers clutched tightly around the blanket the nurse had draped over her lap. Chrysander stood to the side, listening intently as the nurse gave him the aftercare instructions. Marley fingered the maternity top that one of the nurses had kindly provided for her and smoothed the wrinkles over the bump of her abdomen. They’d all been exceedingly kind to her, and she feared leaving their kindness to venture into the unknown.
When the nurse was finished, Chrysander grasped the handles of the wheelchair and began pushing Marley down the hallway toward the entrance. She blinked as the bright sunshine speared her vision. A sleek limousine was parked a few feet away, and Chrysander walked briskly toward it. The driver stepped around to open the door just as Chrysander effortlessly plucked her from the wheelchair and ushered her inside the heated interior. In a matter of seconds, they were gliding away from the hospital.
Marley stared out the window as they navigated the busy New York streets. The city itself was familiar. She could remember certain shops and landmarks. She possessed a knowledge of the city, but what was missing was the idea that this was home, that she belonged here. Hadn’t Chrysander said they’d lived here? She felt like an artist staring at an empty canvas without the skills to paint the portrait.
When they pulled to a stop in front of a stylish, modern building, Chrysander bolted from the limousine while the doorman opened the door on her side. Chrysander reached inside and carefully drew her from the vehicle. She stepped to the sidewalk on shaky feet, and he tucked her to his side, a strong arm around her waist as they walked through the entrance.
A wave of déjà vu swept over her as the lift opened and he helped her inside. For the briefest of moments, her memory stirred, and she struggled to part the veils of darkness.
“What is it?” Chrysander demanded.
“I’ve done this before,” she murmured.
“You remember?”
She shook her head. “No. It just feels…familiar. I know I’ve been here.”
His fingers curled tighter around her arm. “This is where we lived…for many months. It’s only natural that it should register something.”
The lift opened, and she cocked her head as he started forward. His phrasing had been odd. Had they not lived here just a short time ago? Before whatever accident had befallen her?
He stopped and held out his hand to her. “Come, Marley. We’re home.”
She slid her fingers into his as he pulled her forward into the lavish foyer. To her surprise, a woman met them as they started for the large living room. Marley faltered as the tall blond young woman put a hand on Chrysander’s arm and smiled.
“Welcome home, Mr. Anetakis. I’ve laid out all contracts requiring your signature on your desk as well as ordered your phone messages by priority. I also took the liberty of having dinner delivered.” She swept an assessing look over Marley, one that had Marley feeling obscure and insignificant. “I didn’t imagine you’d be up for going out after a trying few days.”
Marley frowned as she realized the woman was implying that Chrysander had been through the ordeal and not Marley.
“Thank you, Roslyn,” Chrysander said. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” He turned to Marley and pulled her closer to him. “Marley, this is Roslyn Chambers, my personal assistant.”
Marley gave a faltering smile.
“Delighted to see you again, Miss Jameson,” Roslyn said sweetly. “It’s been ages since I last saw you. Months, I believe.”
“Roslyn,” Chrysander said in a warning voice. Her smile never slipped as she looked innocently at Chrysander.
Marley glanced warily between them, her confusion mounting. The ease with which the woman moved around the apartment that Chrysander called home to both of them was clear, and yet Roslyn hadn’t seen Marley in months? The proprietary way his assistant looked at him was the only thing currently clear to Marley.
“I’ll leave you two,” Roslyn said with a gracious smile. “I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.” She turned to Chrysander and put a delicate hand on his arm once more. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll come straight over.”
“Thank you,” Chrysander murmured.
The tall blonde clicked across the polished Italian marble in her elegant heels and entered the lift. She smiled at Chrysander as the doors closed.
Marley licked her suddenly dry lips and looked away. Chrysander was stiff at her side as though he expected Marley to react in some way. She wasn’t stupid enough to do so now. Not when he was so on guard. Later, she would ask him the million questions whirling around her tired mind.
“Come, you should be in bed,” Chrysander said as he curled an arm around her.
“I’ve had quite enough of bed,” she said firmly.
“Then you should at least get comfortable on the sofa. I’ll bring you a tray so you can eat.”
Eat. Rest. Eat some more. Those dictates seemed to compose Chrysander’s sole aim when it came to her. She sighed and allowed him to lead her into the living area. He settled her on the soft leather couch and retrieved a blanket to cover her with.
There was a stiffness about him that puzzled her, but then she supposed if the roles were reversed and he’d forgotten her, she wouldn’t be very sure of herself, either. He left the room, and several minutes later returned with a tray that he set before her on the coffee table. Steam rose from the bowl of soup, but she wasn’t tempted by the offering. She was too unsettled.
He sat in a chair diagonally to her, but after a few moments, he rose and paced the room like a restless predator. His fingers tugged at his tie as he loosened it and then unbuttoned the cuffs of his silk shirt.
“Your assistant…Roslyn…said she left work for you?”
He