Pregnant by the Commanding Greek

by Natalie Anderson

  He slid his hand into her glossy hair and tilted her head back to expose her pretty neck. Her soft lips parted and emotion glittered in her eyes. Emotion he refused to analyse. He didn’t know how. He certainly didn’t stop to examine his own. He was only seeking her consent—to lose them both in that fiery desire. And he got it—there in her crystal, cloudless eyes.

  She might appear vulnerable, but she was strong. He could see her energy pulsing in that soft space at the base of her neck. He bent his head and kissed her hard and deep, releasing all the passion and lust into her, until that weight blocking his chest eased and heat swirled in its place. She was so intoxicating, he sank to his knees, determined to gift her every ounce of pleasure he could. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but now. Here. Her pleasure. Her sighs.

  He cupped her full breasts, knowing they were tender and more sensitive, teasing until he felt her need deepening, until he heard her breathy little pleas. Then it was that sweet, wet, secret part of her that he couldn’t resist baring, touching, tasting.

  ‘Lean on me,’ he muttered as he felt her trembling response.

  She was hot and lush and he craved every inch, every lick of her. She pressed her hands on his shoulders for balance, her legs spread as wide as they could against the constraints of the panties he’d pulled halfway down her thighs. He revelled in her quivering, in her desperate cries. His blood flowed freely now—warming him, releasing him from that tight, painful pressure. This was what he wanted. He pressed closer still and destroyed her.

  * * *

  Ettie woke late and saw the fresh juice, plain crackers and sliced fruit on a tray beside the bed. She smiled ruefully. Leon was unfailingly attentive and good at anticipating almost every one of her needs. She could hardly bear to think of those insane moments last night when he’d knelt at her feet and made her mad with desire. In that dangerously seductive stance, she’d felt like his queen, as if he couldn’t exist in that moment without touching her. He’d made her feel wanted in a way she’d never felt wanted before. And he’d made her feel such thrilling, intense pleasure, such total exhilaration, that she’d screamed until she was hoarse.

  In the aftermath she’d been so dazed she could barely stand. Her wits had been too scrambled for her to be able to lighten it at all, to even think of reciprocating. He’d straightened her clothing and told her to go and tidy herself quick-smart, because their restaurant booking was soon.

  Once more, it wasn’t just any restaurant and it wasn’t pizza. It was award-winning, exclusive and so expensive they didn’t bother putting the prices on the menu. There was no choice as to what they got to eat either. That was because the food the world-renowned chef prepared was so exquisite, no one sane would ever think to complain or argue with the selection. Pure perfection. And absolute decadence.

  She’d been so tired she’d fallen asleep on the drive home. She’d woken as he’d carried her up to his bed. And once there, she’d realised she wasn’t quite as sleepy as all that. He’d laughed, indulging her again in that searing, soul-destroying sex. Again. And then again.

  Just sex, Ettie. Good sex. Stupendous. But just sex.

  But thank goodness he seemed to be as hungry for it as she.

  Now he’d gone to work and she had another day to herself before the weekend. Another day to come to terms with the fragile future they were building.

  But there was imbalance between them and it wasn’t their bank balances. He knew everything. Her stupid mistakes of the past. Even her sorry childhood dream of becoming a musician. Every little secret. Furthermore, he’d done so much for her—the ring, the home, the job...and things so much more intimate than that. He turned her inside out, made her mindless with pleasure. He’d given her pretty much everything.

  But what had she given him? What had he let her give him—other than her body? He didn’t open up, didn’t let her in. She breathed out and reminded herself it was very early days. He didn’t trust her yet and he had a thing about people always wanting things from him—he’d joked about it but there’d been a tiny truth there.

  What if she was to give him something?

  Problem was, it wasn’t as if he needed her to buy him anything and it wasn’t as if she had vast amounts of money to splash out either. And it wasn’t about a thing, it was about doing something thoughtful, to show that she was invested in making this work the same way he was. That she could be attentive too. But she knew so little, she couldn’t think of what to do or get, and she was good at getting things for privileged people.

  With a sigh, she got out of bed and returned the plate and glass to the gleaming kitchen. She caught sight of the shiny new dog bowls sitting uselessly on the counter. She paused, her gaze fixed on them. Leon said he’d never had a puppy, but he’d been surprisingly willing to take Toby. She’d had a feeling that he’d been more keen on that than he’d expressed. It hadn’t all been about getting her up to that penthouse in Cavendish House. She remembered how he’d gently patted the dog.

  Her heart pounded as she turned over the wisp of an idea in her mind. It would be a huge risk. But instinct told her it would be worth it. It would be right.

  Go with your instincts; they’re good.

  She turned her back on the lists she’d left on the table and ran back upstairs to get dressed.

  Ettie Roberts had a mission.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LEON TRIED TO stay at work. Tried to concentrate. Tried not to think about the weekend ahead. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her there, he did, but it felt as if the ground was shifting and he couldn’t quite hold his balance. In the end he gave up resisting and let the weight coiling within push him home.

  ‘Ettie?’ He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease that tension as he shucked off his jacket and shoes.

  ‘Leon?’ Her answering call was pitched high.

  ‘Who else?’ he asked drily, following the direction of her voice to the kitchen.

  He fought to restrain the urge to go straight up and kiss her until the tightness in his chest eased again. Not two nights running—he had more control than that, right? But in the doorway he paused to draw breath. She looked amazing to his hungry eyes—jeans, T-shirt, hair twisted out of the way and secured with a pen again. His again.

  ‘I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home... You’re early.’ Her face was flushed but it wasn’t that usual blush of sensuality.

  And she couldn’t quite maintain eye contact, which initially intrigued, then concerned him. He strolled closer, trying to take it easy, but his instincts were firing. Something was off. ‘What’ve you been up to today?’ he asked. ‘No more lists?’

  The table was scrupulously tidy.

  His pulse began to pound. Why couldn’t she look at him? Why was she so flushed? Why so silent?

  At that exact moment, he heard a strange scratching coming from behind him. Ettie froze, her eyes wide. He cocked his head and narrowed his gaze on her. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Hmm?’ she mumbled.

  ‘Ettie?’

  The noise sounded again and there was no hiding the guilty look in her eyes—her face was far too expressive.

  Now she pressed her lips together in an oddly nervous manner. ‘I’ve done something,’ she blurted. ‘I got you a present.’

  He stilled. ‘You what?’

  ‘I got you a present. I hope you don’t mind.’

  Why would he mind? He actually couldn’t remember the last time anyone had got him a present. He didn’t have a bunch of friends he did birthday celebrations with and his parents definitely didn’t send him anything. Not at Christmas either.

  There was another scratching sound. And then a high-pitched yelp. Not Ettie. Not human.

  Leon spun around. ‘Ettie?’

  She scuttled past him and he watched her hunch down by a box he’d not noticed before because he’d only had eyes for her. Leon couldn’t
move. It was a big box.

  Then Ettie stood and walked towards him and she was holding—

  ‘He was the runt,’ she said all in a rush. ‘I don’t know quite what breed he is...a mix of many, and I know he’s not handsome like Toby, but he wasn’t going to have a chance otherwise.’

  Leon stared at the creature in Ettie’s arms. ‘You got me a puppy?’

  His heart beat too fast; his lungs felt as if they were in a swiftly tightening vice.

  ‘You have space here.’ She sounded as breathless as he felt. ‘You could train him to go to the office with you, or he can stay here and play in the garden, or he could come to the Cavendish with me...we can make it work. I just thought you’d like him.’ She stepped closer and literally shoved the puppy into his arms.

  Leon instinctively grabbed the animal but inside he’d frozen.

  ‘You said you’d not had a dog, but I thought you’d quite wanted Toby. I thought...’ She trailed off as she finally looked up at him. ‘I don’t really know what I thought.’ She stared into his eyes, her own growing more concerned by the second. ‘Do you mind?’ It was a whisper.

  Leon couldn’t move. He couldn’t actually breathe. That pressure crushing his chest was too heavy on his lungs.

  ‘He’s about four months old, they think,’ she said. ‘All vaccinated. If they couldn’t rehome him they were going to—’

  ‘He’s a rescue puppy?’ he croaked, determinedly pushing past the immobility to glance down at the puppy who’d settled so quickly in his arms. Small, with bottomless brown eyes that had a heart-wrenching hint of sadness, mostly black hair but with patches of silvery white...he was ridiculously cute.

  ‘Yes.’

  Leon cleared his throat. ‘Does he have a name?’

  She shook her head. ‘You’ll have to give him one.’

  He didn’t want to do that. He couldn’t.

  Memory washed over him. He’d held a tiny puppy like this only once before years ago. It had been small and fragile like this one. It had been his...but only for a little while.

  He stilled as past and present blurred and the reality of their future hit hard. He didn’t know if he could do this. Any of this.

  ‘Leon? Don’t you like him?’

  He huffed out a hard-caught breath. Of course he liked him. How could he not?

  ‘What is it?’ she asked softly. ‘Leon?’ Her eyes suddenly filled. ‘Did I do the wrong thing?’

  ‘No,’ he muttered quickly. She was so sweet, she didn’t realise. ‘No.’

  ‘Then what is it?’ She wasn’t just sweet, she was astute. She saw right through him.

  And he couldn’t bear that. ‘It’s not important,’ he snapped, needing to shut her down.

  ‘If it’s not important, it won’t matter if you tell me, will it?’

  He almost smiled at her simple logic, but he was stuck, unable to escape the most painful of memories. ‘You don’t want my poor-little-rich-boy sob story.’

  ‘Yes—’

  ‘It is what it is,’ he interrupted awkwardly. ‘I can’t change it.’

  He didn’t want questions, didn’t want to remember. His mouth was dry and he felt too big to be holding something so small. He didn’t want to hold it close. He didn’t want to feel. He needed time to think. But Ettie kept looking at him with those beseeching sea-green eyes and when she did that he couldn’t seem to think at all.

  ‘Leon—’

  ‘My neighbour gave me a puppy,’ he growled before she could say anything else in that husky, sweet voice. She was so frustratingly curious. ‘But my mother got rid of it after a few weeks.’

  ‘Got rid of it?’ Ettie frowned. ‘You don’t mean—’

  ‘Yeah, I do mean.’ The words just fell out. A bald, uncontrollable burn of memory. The disappearance. The shocking silence and the absolute emptiness inside him. ‘They weren’t interested in me—I was their tick-the-box baby. They were busy with their careers. Their affairs. They just wanted a trophy and heir. They didn’t want the actual child. The actual child was...’ He broke off, tearing his gaze from Ettie to focus on the small dog that had nestled so easily into his arms. It was so trusting. But he hadn’t been able to protect that first puppy...

  He dragged in a harsh breath. He shouldn’t have said anything, but now he’d started, ripping open that old wound so it oozed poison and pus. He couldn’t stop the truth of it spewing out.

  ‘One child was more than enough for my mother to handle and, as I was a child of privilege, it was her duty to educate me on my duty and ensure I wasn’t spoiled.’

  ‘Not spoiled?’ Ettie echoed softly.

  He looked back into her expressive face and watched as understanding dawned.

  ‘She was cruel?’ she said.

  Leon couldn’t bear the sympathy in her eyes. Why had he said anything? He hated remembering how weak he’d once been. He never wanted anyone to have power over him again. Not physical. Not emotional. Not contractual. Never again would he be that vulnerable. That powerless.

  ‘Leon...’

  ‘I was extremely fortunate.’ He tried to plug the information leak, tried to squash all that horror back in the depths of his ribcage. ‘I had the best education.’

  Never show weakness. Never admit to failure. Always fight.

  ‘But she hurt you. Not just your puppy. She hurt you.’

  So many times, in so many small ways. He froze but was still unable to think, unable to hold back that pressure bursting within him.

  Ettie stepped closer. ‘She hit you?’

  ‘Too obvious.’ The words escaped, heedless of his battle to keep silent. ‘She’d force me to shower in freezing water. Five minutes. Reciting equations, verbs, some poem. Whatever lesson I needed to be drilled in. I had to say it aloud over and over again. That was one of the many...’ He paused, drawing in a hard breath. ‘Just little things she did to...’

  ‘Torture you.’

  ‘Toughen me up.’ He grimaced. ‘Cold showers, barefoot runs in the frost, two hours locked in a dark cupboard if I answered back or worse...all things that left no physical mark, but would teach me to control myself. Not cry. Not show weakness.’

  Not anger. Not love either. Not any emotions. He’d learned calm instead—to close down, stay still, breathe, think. Except he couldn’t do any of that now with the way Ettie was looking at him.

  ‘It worked,’ he said, stubbornly rejecting what he saw in her eyes. ‘I grew resilience. Definitely gained independence. Didn’t rely on anyone else for anything.’

  ‘You couldn’t tell your father?’

  The last sliver of Leon’s heart shrivelled. ‘He knew.’ And he’d done nothing.

  ‘You couldn’t tell anyone else?’

  There hadn’t been anyone else. There’d never been any physical marks left on him. But he had the feeling his old neighbour at their summer house suspected. That was why she’d given him that puppy. Calix had been the runt of the litter, just like this little guy.

  His mother had relented too easily—said yes to that nice old neighbour. She’d said yes so swiftly, bubbling with faux gratitude. He should’ve known it was too good to last. He was to perform. He was to lead. He was to remain in charge of everything. The loss she then subjected him to was to build his fight—the puppy was a mere tool for him to learn pain and to protect himself from feeling it again. Never to lose again.

  It hurts when important things are taken from you. The dog isn’t important. Our company is.

  He’d never trusted again either.

  ‘That’s why you were happy to go away to school,’ Ettie whispered.

  ‘It was a relief.’ Leon wanted nothing more than to freeze back up inside. ‘But she’d hit me in other ways. When you’re told something over and over and over, you begin to believe it, especially when the person telling you is supposed to b
e your protector.’ She’d shut him off from everyone. Her words echoed in his head.

  ‘They only want to be friends because of your money. They want to use you. But you haven’t done anything to deserve what you have. You don’t deserve it.’

  He realised far too late that he’d said it all aloud. Ettie’s expression was appalled. He turned away, unable to look at her any more. If he didn’t look at her he might get himself back under control.

  ‘My mother was determined to make me strong enough, good enough to take over the specific challenges of a multimillion-dollar empire. To become the tough, decisive boss I’d need to be. I tried hard to please her.’ To please both his parents. He’d tried for so long. ‘Eventually I realised I was never going to. Nothing would make her happy. So I decided that I’d never be the heir they’d worked so diligently to raise. Not by going off the rails—that would have pleased her, I think. It would have proven that I was as “weak” as she’d said I was. So no drugs, no booze-fuelled parties, no threesomes...’ He almost smiled. ‘I turned my back on that “duty” and rejected the inheritance they offered. I’ll never work for the company, or take charge of it. Instead I worked alone and earned more, just to spite her. I worked every holiday and left home the second I was old enough.’

  ‘To make your own way.’

  He’d pushed to the top relentlessly—taken huge risks, worked insane hours. Because he didn’t want a cent of his parents’ money. Didn’t want the ‘glory’ of running their empire. After all, he’d not deserved it—so he’d built his own.

  He didn’t need them. He didn’t need anyone.

  Now he carried the sleeping puppy back to the box and saw the small bed Ettie had got for it inside. He carefully put the puppy in. Why had he said anything? He never talked to anyone about this. Bracing himself against the silence, he turned back and saw her face. His body tightened.