The Mistress: The MistressWanted: Mistress and Mother

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The Mistress: The MistressWanted: Mistress and Mother Page 9

by Maya Banks


  She settled into the soft leather seat as he drove away from the airport.

  They spent much of the morning walking among the ruins. He explained the history, but she was more focused on the fact that it was a beautiful autumn day and they were together. No annoying personal assistants, no doctors or nurses, no business calls or faxes. It was, in a word, perfect.

  “You’re not paying a bit of attention, pedhaki mou.” Chrysander’s amused voice filtered through her haze of contentment.

  She blushed and turned to look at him. “I’m sorry. I’m enjoying it, truly.”

  “Are you ready to return to the island?” he asked. “I’m not overtiring you, am I?” The amusement had turned to concern, and if she didn’t dissuade him of the notion that she was not well, she’d find herself bundled back on the helicopter and her perfect day would be at its end.

  “Tell me about your family. You’ve said nothing about them. I realize the information may be redundant, but since I can’t remember any of it, perhaps you could humor me.”

  “What would you like to know?” he asked.

  “Anything. Everything. Are your parents still living? You don’t talk about them.”

  A flash of pain showed in his eyes, and she immediately regretted the question.

  “They died some years back in a yachting accident,” he said.

  She slipped her hand into his and squeezed comfortingly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up such a painful subject.”

  “It’s been a long time,” he said with a shrug. But she could tell speaking of them bothered him.

  She opened her mouth to change the topic when he suddenly frowned and lowered his other hand to his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and studied it for a moment before opening it and putting it to his ear.

  “Roslyn,” he said shortly, after a quick glance at Marley.

  Marley stiffened and pulled her hand away from Chrysander’s. Trust his assistant to know just when to call. She must have radar.

  She could see the tension rise in Chrysander, and when he looked in her direction, it was as though he stared right through her.

  “Everything is fine here,” Chrysander said. “Find out from Piers how things are going for the Rio de Janeiro hotel and report back.” There was a long pause. “No, I don’t know when we’ll return to New York.” He glanced again at Marley, and she got the distinct impression Roslyn was talking about her. “No, of course not,” he said in a soothing voice. “I appreciate your diligence, Roslyn. You’ll be the first to know when I plan to leave the island.”

  Marley looked away in disgust, no longer able to listen to his part of the conversation. A few moments later, he snapped the phone shut and put it into his pocket. As expected, when she turned back to him, his entire demeanor had changed for the worse. He looked at her almost suspiciously, though she couldn’t imagine why. But she wasn’t imagining it. There was a distinct change in his mood.

  “I’m sorry for the interruption,” he said almost formally. “What were we talking about?”

  “Tell me about your hotels,” she said impulsively, wanting to steer him away from his concerns.

  His expression froze and wariness stole over his face. “What would you like to know?”

  She found a place to sit that overlooked the tall pillars and tugged him down beside her.

  “I don’t know. Anything. Where do you have hotels? Imperial Park in New York is one of yours, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “Where else do you have hotels? Are you very international? I heard you say something about Rio de Janeiro. Do you have a hotel there?”

  He’d gone completely stiff, and she puzzled over why. Did he not like to discuss his business? In truth, she craved whatever details about him she could get. He hadn’t been very forthcoming about his work life, a fact she found odd.

  “We have hotels in most major international cities. Our largest are in New York, Tokyo, London and Madrid. We have several others, slightly smaller, across Europe. We’re currently working on plans for one in Rio de Janeiro.”

  “But not in Paris? I think I’d like for you to have one in Paris so we could visit.” She grinned teasingly at him.

  Her smile faded when his eyes went cold and hard. A shiver worked its way up her spine, and a knot formed in her stomach. He looked angry. No, he looked furious.

  “No, we do not have one in Paris.”

  His clipped tone had her backing away. She slid several inches down the bench. “I’m sorry….” She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for. His mood had gone black in an instant, and she had no idea why. She seemed to have a penchant for dredging up the wrong subjects. First his parents and now his business. Was there any safe topic for them to discuss?

  She stood and clenched her fingers into tight balls. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe we should go back now.” She turned swiftly, her intention to walk back toward the car, but she moved too fast and the world spun dizzyingly around her.

  She thought briefly of her missed breakfast before her knees buckled and she blacked out.

  * * *

  When Marley regained consciousness, the first thing she heard was a furious voice rapidly firing in Greek. As her eyes opened and her gaze flickered around her surroundings, she realized she was on an exam table in what appeared to be a clinic.

  Chrysander’s back was to her, and he was interrogating the doctor standing in front of him.

  “Chrysander,” she murmured weakly.

  He spun around immediately and hurried over to where she lay. “Are you all right?” His hands swept over her body even as his eyes bored intensely into hers. “Are you in pain?”

  She tried to smile, but she felt shaky. The doctor moved in front of Chrysander and held a cup toward her.

  “Drink this, Miss Jameson. Your blood sugar is too low, but I think some juice will set you to rights.”

  Chrysander took the juice then curled an arm underneath her neck to help her sit up. He held the cup to her lips as she cautiously sipped at the sweet liquid.

  “When was the last time you ate, Miss Jameson?”

  The doctor pinned her with an inquiring stare, and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. She ducked her head. “I didn’t eat breakfast,” she admitted.

  Chrysander bit out a curse. “Nor did you eat much dinner last night. Theos, but I should not have brought you here today. I knew you hadn’t eaten properly, and yet I didn’t think to remedy the situation.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “It isn’t your fault, Chrysander. It was foolish of me. I didn’t give it much thought in my excitement over our trip to the ruins.”

  “It is my job to take care of you and our child,” he said stubbornly.

  The doctor cleared his throat and smiled at them. “Yes, well, no harm was done. A proper meal, and she’ll feel like a new woman. I’d suggest being off your feet for the rest of the day. No sense in chancing things.”

  “I’ll personally see to it,” Chrysander said stiffly.

  Marley sighed. He was taking her fainting spell personally. He fairly bristled with guilt, and she knew there’d be no swaying him from his course. She might as well resign herself to the rest of the day in bed.

  “Can I take her home now?” Chrysander asked the doctor.

  The doctor nodded. “Just make sure she eats promptly and that she rests.”

  “You can be certain I will,” Chrysander said grimly.

 
Marley made to slide off the exam table, but Chrysander put out a hand to prevent her movement. Then he simply plucked her up into his arms and strode out the door.

  When they got outside, a dark car pulled immediately in front of them, and a man jumped out to open the door for Chrysander. He ducked in, still holding Marley close to him.

  “So much for you driving,” she muttered as they were whisked away toward the airport.

  “I cannot drive and hold you at the same time,” Chrysander said patiently.

  “I wasn’t aware of the need to be held.”

  “I will take care of you.”

  It was said with ironclad resoluteness, his voice solemn, and she knew he took his vow very seriously. Realizing she wouldn’t win any arguments with him today, she relaxed against his chest and curled her arms around his body.

  He stroked her head and murmured softly in Greek. She was nearly asleep when the car came to a halt. Soon after the door opened, and a shaft of sunlight speared her eyes as she looked up.

  Chrysander threw his arm up to shield her then gently turned her head back into his chest. He got out of the car still holding her and walked rapidly toward the helicopter.

  “Go back to sleep if you can, pedhaki mou,” he murmured as he climbed in.

  But when the whir of the blades started, the fog of sleep disappeared. She contented herself instead with snuggling into the curve of his neck as they lifted off toward the island.

  He’d obviously called ahead and issued a montage of orders, because when he walked into the house with her, Patrice had a meal waiting, and Dr. Karounis stood by to monitor Marley’s condition. After an initial fuss, Patrice and the doctor, once they’d assured Chrysander that Marley was well, excused themselves, leaving the two alone.

  Marley dug into the bowl of soup first and sighed as it coated her empty stomach.

  “You will not skip any more meals,” Chrysander said reproachfully as he watched her from across the table.

  “I didn’t intend to skip any,” she said. “I just got sidetracked.”

  “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  She raised an eyebrow then grinned mischievously. “So it’s back to being no fun then?”

  He glowered at her.

  That glower reminded her of what had transpired right before she’d fainted. She sobered and looked pensively at him.

  “What is the matter?” Chrysander asked.

  She fiddled with her spoon then set it down. “Before, when we were at the ruins. Why did you become so angry?”

  His expression remained neutral, but she could tell he had no liking for the question. “It was nothing. I was just thinking about work,” he said dismissively.

  She stared doubtfully at him but didn’t pursue the matter. When she had finished eating, Chrysander once again swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

  He settled her onto the mattress and methodically removed her clothing. By the time he’d pulled away her pants, she lay in only her bra and filmy panties. She heard the catch in his breath just as he turned away.

  “Chrysander,” she whispered.

  He turned back, the muscles rippling through his body as if he were under a great strain.

  “Stay with me. Could we take a nap together? I find I’m very tired after all.”

  If he didn’t look so tortured, she’d laugh. She worked to keep her expression neutral as he grappled with her request. Finally he began working the buttons to his shirt. In silence he undressed to his boxers then crawled onto the bed with her.

  Then he cursed. She looked inquiringly at him as he stared down at her.

  “Would you like something to sleep in? You cannot stay in your bra. It doesn’t look comfortable.”

  She blushed but nodded. “A nightshirt will do.”

  He got up and returned with one of his shirts. He helped her sit up and unclasped her bra. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the shirt over her head and let it fall to her swollen belly.

  With gentle hands, he urged her back down and knelt above her. “Better?”

  “Much,” she said huskily.

  He settled down beside her and tucked her into his arms. She twisted about, trying to find just the right spot. When she scooted her behind into his groin, she froze, feeling his arousal there against her skin. She started to move away, when Chrysander growled in her ear.

  “Be still.”

  He clamped his arms around her, rendering her immobile. Her cheeks flaming, she tried to relax. The moment he’d touched her, her fatigue had fled. Now she faced trying to sleep with him wrapped around every inch of her body.

  His warmth bled into her. He stroked her hair and murmured in her ear. Greek words she couldn’t understand, though the comfort they intended was well recognized. She sighed in contentment as his hand glided down her arm, to her hip, coming to rest on her thigh.

  She felt a wave of such utter rightness, and she was stunned to realize the nameless emotion she’d been grappling with was love. Her eyes fluttered open even as she heard Chrysander’s even breathing signal his slumber.

  She loved him. It shouldn’t surprise her, but now that she’d acknowledged it, she realized that she hadn’t immediately recognized it after her memory loss. Shouldn’t she have known on some level that she loved this man?

  He was complicated, there was no disputing that. Complex, hard and reserved. Well, if she’d broken down his barriers once, then surely she could do so again.

  She settled down to sleep, purpose beating a steady rhythm in her mind.

  Chapter 8

  Warm lips kissed a line from her shoulder down her arm. Marley stirred and opened her eyes to see Chrysander’s dark head move sensuously down her body.

  “That’s a very nice way to wake up,” she murmured.

  His head came up, and she met the liquid gold of his eyes. “How are you feeling, pedhaki mou?”

  She rolled onto her back and lifted her hand to thread it through his short hair. “Much better. I’m full and had a nap. What more could a pregnant woman want?”

  “Our child did not sleep much,” Chrysander said as he slid his hand over her rippling abdomen.

  She smiled. “No, he’s been very active lately. The obstetrician said they do the most moving in the second trimester.”

  He stared intently at her rounded belly, fascination lighting his eyes. “They don’t move in the last trimester?”

  “Yes, just not as much. There isn’t as much room. In the last month, they do very little as their environment gets even more cramped.”

  “I would think it would be easier for you to rest then.”

  She yawned then covered her mouth with her hand as her jaw nearly cracked with the effort.

  “You’re still tired,” he said reproachfully.

  “I’m pregnant. I expect I’ll be tired for the next eighteen years. I feel much better though. Truly, Chrysander. Let’s get up.”

  He straddled her body, putting one knee on either side of her hips. He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “You’re so eager to rise. Why is this?”

  She blushed and smacked his chest with her fist. He leaned down and tugged her lips into a kiss. He nipped at the fullness of her bottom lip until it was swollen and aching.

  “I have half a mind to keep you in bed until tomorrow morning,” he murmured.

  Putty. She was complete putty in
his hands. If he so much as breathed on her, she went to mush. She twined her arms around his neck and returned his kiss hungrily. She could feel his erection straining against her, knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

  With obvious reluctance he pulled away and climbed off the bed. She looked at him in confusion. Why was he withdrawing?

  He reached down and touched her hair, smoothing the tendrils away from her cheek. “You’ve been through an ordeal today, agape mou. I don’t want to tire you any more.”

  He seemed as surprised as she was when the endearment slipped out of his mouth. Her eyes widened, and he tensed. Then he turned around and strode to the closet.

  She watched him dress and then disappear from the bedroom. He’d called her my love, and while it had given her an indescribable thrill, it was obvious that it wasn’t something he meant to say.

  But he had said it. She held tight to that truth as she got out of bed to dress. Not knowing how he felt about her and why he took such pains to hold himself distant had puzzled her from the beginning. Was it because of her memory loss? Did he fear that her feelings for him couldn’t possibly be considered valid while he was still a stranger to her?

  She’d focused so much on her own problems that arose from the gaping hole in her past, but it was obvious that he, too, had difficulties with the situation.

  If only she could remember. If only she could reassure him that she loved him whether or not she could remember loving him in the past.

  All she could do was show him. And hope that her memory was restored before too much longer.

  * * *

  Chrysander sat in his office, staring out the window that overlooked the beach. Marley stood close to the water, her feet bare and the maternity dress she wore rippling in the breeze. He kept careful watch over her and had instructed his security team to do the same. He wouldn’t take any chances after her fainting spell of the day before.

  Just moments earlier, he’d hung up after speaking to the lead investigator on Marley’s case. There had been no arrests made yet. No leads. The men who had abducted her were still out there. Still a danger to her and their child. It was unacceptable.

 

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