by Heidi Rice
‘But Nikky...’ Lukas said, mimicking the little boy and making him giggle. ‘How about this—if you do as you’re told and sleep on the plane now and when we get to the villa tonight, without any more arguments, I promise to take you on the slides first thing in the morning.’
‘Really?’ Nico asked, his eyes widening with awestruck pleasure, and Bronte’s heart became so large she was surprised it didn’t burst right out of her chest.
Lukas stood up and looked down at his older son as he continued to soothe the baby on his shoulder. ‘Have I ever broken a promise?’ Lukas asked, his voice solemn.
Nico shook his head furiously.
‘So do we have a deal?’ Lukas said.
Nico nodded, just as furiously.
Lukas reached out his free hand and they shook on it together, the poignant father-son bonding moment making Bronte’s swollen heart start to choke her. How this man could ever have believed he wouldn’t make a brilliant husband and father was beyond her.
Happy tears leaked out of her eyes, which she brushed away before either of them could see them. Because that would simply lead to another poignant father-son bonding moment about how silly Mummy was—for crying about nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing to her—it was everything.
* * *
‘Now, go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’ Lukas kissed his son’s forehead and tucked the sheet around him.
The little boy rolled over and murmured sleepily, ‘Yes, Daddy, I’m going to dream about the water slides.’
Lukas chuckled, his throat suddenly raw as he switched off the light and walked out of Nico’s room.
Daddy.
Who would ever have thought that one word would come to mean so much to him?
While walking back through the beachside villa towards the bedroom suite—and Bronte—he sent up a few silent words of thanks to his twin and to Darcy O’Hara.
Not just for the gift of Nico, but for everything his life had become in the last year since their son, his son and Bronte had come into it.
Colourful, chaotic and crazy wonderful.
I hope you can be happy, Alexei, wherever you are, and you can forgive me, Darcy, for once doubting you, knowing that Bronte and I will always love and cherish Nico like our own.
He stepped into the suite and Bronte’s head lifted. Their eyes connected and his heartbeat slowed and strengthened. Her lips stretched in a sweet smile. And he felt it echo in the strong steady beats of his heart.
His younger son’s dark head lay nestled against her arm, his tiny fist resting against her bare breast, while his lips twitched around her nipple as he attempted to continue nursing even though he was obviously fast asleep.
The rush of blood to his groin was swift and predictable and kind of mortifying. It was probably perverse to find the sight of her nipple while she fed his child so damned erotic. And it was going to be uncomfortable tonight. Once they’d gotten the baby to bed, she would need her sleep too. She had to be tired. No matter how much money you threw at the problem, travelling with two small children was exhausting.
‘Did you get Nico to bed okay?’ she asked, yawning, as he lifted the baby out of her arms and onto his shoulder.
‘Of course—we made a deal,’ he said as he patted his younger son’s back. He absorbed the warm weight and inhaled the comforting smell of baby shampoo and milk. The baby delivered a satisfying belch. ‘Why don’t you get into bed,’ he said, ‘while I put him down?’
‘Mmm, thanks.’ She stretched, yawning again. And he forced himself to turn away and walk out of the room and not get fixated on the sight of her plump, reddened nipple pouting at him.
Bronte would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, which would make it that much easier to get his arousal under control when he climbed into bed with her.
He took his time settling his younger son into his crib, the inevitable rush of love and protectiveness helping to distract him from thoughts of his wife’s lush body in the room next door.
The inappropriate erection had mercifully wilted and he was congratulating himself on his control when he walked back into the dark bedroom ten minutes later. The sultry breeze off the Indian Ocean drifted in from the open terrace doors, ruffling the dark silhouette of the palm fronds that framed the villa’s deck.
Moonlight shimmered on the water outside as he stripped off his clothes, but as he took off his boxers the shadows in the room shifted.
Bronte sat up in the bed, the thin sheet settling into her lap, her naked body and all those delicious curves clearly visible as the moonlight gilded them with a silvery glow.
The blood charged straight back into his groin.
‘Why the heck aren’t you asleep?’ he demanded, his voice hoarse with desire, and no small amount of frustration, as the unruly erection became so stiff it hurt.
‘Because it’s not past my bedtime yet,’ she said, the teasing tone tempered by the husky note of arousal. ‘And I’ve been waiting for you. What took you so long?’
‘I was waiting for you to go to sleep,’ he said, feeling a little ridiculous as he climbed into bed and grasped her waist to tug her under him. ‘So I could do the decent thing—and not ravage you tonight.’
She laughed, the throaty hum making every one of his pulse points pound.
You little minx, I am so going to make you pay for this.
He ravaged the sensitive skin of her neck, all his good intentions burnt away in the firestorm of lust.
‘How about I make a deal with you?’ she said, shuddering as he flicked his thumb over the slick nub of her clitoris. ‘I’ll let you do the decent thing after you’ve ravished me.’
‘You’re on,’ he murmured, his voice raw with passion and purpose.
Her delighted laugh turned into a broken sob as he cradled her hips, thrust deep...
And found his way home.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed Bound by Their Scandalous Baby you’re sure to enjoy these other stories by Heidi Rice!
Captive at Her Enemy’s Command
The Virgin’s Shock Baby
Vows They Can’t Escape
Public Affair, Secretly Expecting
Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from The King’s Captive Virgin by Natalie Anderson.
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The King’s Captive Virgin
by Natalie Anderson
>
CHAPTER ONE
‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you don’t know where she is?’ King Giorgos Nicolaides glared at his security chief.
The uniformed man shifted and took two attempts before answering audibly. ‘I have the entire team on it now, Your Majesty.’
‘Now?’ Giorgos, ordinarily so cool that people genuinely believed he had ice in his veins, was lethally close to losing his temper. ‘You’re telling me that Princess Eleni hasn’t been seen since late this morning, yet I am only hearing about it “now”?’
It was hours after she’d last been seen. It was now evening—dangerously close to darkness.
‘She went into the hospital but never made it to the usual ward that she visits.’
Every muscle in Giorgos’s body strained as he fought to control his innate instinct to sprint from the palace and start combing the streets for his sister.
Breathe. Think. Assess. ‘So where did she go?’
The man before him paled at Giorgos’s soft query. ‘We’re working on that, Your Highness.’
‘I assume you’ve checked all available security footage?’
He fisted his hands in a fierce attempt to hold back the rage threatening to overwhelm him. Why had his supposedly elite security soldiers waited so long before informing him? Unacceptable.
‘Her guard is to be fired,’ he snapped, unable to resist the need to take some kind of action. ‘As soon as she is found I want him gone.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The man all but fled from the room.
Giorgos took no satisfaction in knowing that other heads would also roll once the situation was under control, because for now he needed every one of those ‘elite’ soldiers to be out there trying to find her. Trying to rescue her.
Because she’d been taken—Eleni never would have left the hospital willingly. And when he got his hands on the foul bastards who’d stolen her with the intention of doing heaven knew what—
He halted his horrendous thoughts and stalked the perimeter of the large room. Find her. They just had to find her. Fast.
‘Sir—’
Giorgos whirled back as the soldier re-entered the room. As he registered the expression in the man’s eyes he felt his blood chill. This was a man who’d faced horrors before—not only in war, but in natural disaster rescue and recovery operations. He’d experienced the gamut of human devastation. And right now he looked wary. Why?
‘What?’ he rapped. His brain couldn’t compute complete sentences.
‘One of the street cameras shows—’
‘What?’ He stalked forward and gestured at the laptop the man held. ‘Show me.’
Impatiently Giorgos stared at the screen. The footage was grainy, but the identity of the woman on the screen was unmistakable. Giorgos watched his younger sister walk alongside a tall man—away from the hospital—to a car parked not far along the quiet side street. He watched as she got into the car and allowed the man to drive her away.
The man who’d held no gun or knife or any kind of discernible weapon. The man who’d almost been smiling. There’d been no apparent coercion, no apparent threat. Giorgos’s blood ran so cold he actually shivered.
His sister had chosen to leave.
The very night her royal fiancé was flying in to see her she’d run away with another man. And it had taken Giorgos only that one look at the man to know Eleni was in big trouble. That slimeball held his head high and had an arrogance to his long stride. He wasn’t afraid to be seen and he clearly knew what he wanted—Princess Eleni Nicolaides. And now it seemed he had her.
The question was why—what was he going to use her for? But that answer was also blindingly obvious. The man was a predator, an experienced seducer—Giorgos recognised it instantly because once upon a time he, Giorgos, had been a using bastard like that too.
He clenched his fists, seething with impotent fury. He didn’t blame his sister, only himself. She was naive and innocent and young and she’d been duped—no doubt about that. Bitter bile burned the back of his throat. This was entirely his fault. He should have protected her more, should have kept her safer... But heaven knew he’d tried. Right now he couldn’t understand how this man had got access to her.
‘Who is he?’ He breathed the question slowly.
Before his security chief could answer Giorgos’s mobile rang. He froze, his gaze locked on that of his soldier. They both knew very few people had his personal number. He forced out a breath as he snatched the phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.
‘Giorgos, it’s me.’
His sister scrambled to speak before he had the chance to.
‘Eleni. Where are you?’ He was so relieved to hear from her he barked his words like bullets. ‘Come back to the palace now. Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused?’
But she didn’t answer immediately—and her pause put Giorgos back on high alert.
‘I’m not coming back yet, Giorgos. I need time to think.’
‘Think? About what?’ Giorgos didn’t think at all before berating her. ‘Your fiancé is already here. Or had you forgotten that you’re about to go on tour with him?’
The image of her calmly walking away with that other man replayed in his mind—walking away from her duty, from her country. How could she? He’d never have believed her capable. She’d always embraced her role and been accepting of her future. Everything was perfectly prepared and the plans had been in place for over two years. This was an excellent match for her—she well knew that, as royals, their lives could never entirely be their own.
‘I can’t do it, Giorgos.’
‘Can’t do what?’ His impatience almost got the better of him.
There was another moment. Giorgos listened closely to the unnatural silence, sensing a new level of danger.
‘I’m pregnant,’ she said softly.
He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t bear to think.
Pregnant.
With one word he was transported back to another time—to another woman. The split-second recollection of the devastation that had ensued slammed into him as if it had been yesterday.
‘Prince Xander isn’t the father,’ she added.
It was his worst nightmare—he’d longed to protect her from exactly this kind of mistake.
‘Who?’ he finally whispered. ‘Who?’ That ferocious anger was unleashed.
‘It doesn’t matter—’
‘I’ll kill him. I’ll bloody—Tell me his name.’
‘No.’
His rage ran unrestrained and he shouted into the phone. ‘Tell me his name, Eleni. I’ll have him—’
‘Call off the hounds, Giorgos. Or I swear I’ll never return. I will disappear.’
His jaw dropped and he was stunned into silence by her interruption. Eleni never interrupted him. Never swore or answered back. And she sure as hell never made threats. What had happened to his sister?
Again a reprise echoed in his head—of his own headstrong argument with his father, his own defiance that had led to such destruction. Recklessness and impulsive action like this led to chaos and calamity. The last thing he wanted was for her to suffer a lifetime of guilt and regret. He knew too well how heavy that burden was.
‘It doesn’t matter who it was,’ she followed up firmly. ‘He didn’t seduce me. I was a fully willing participant. I made the mistake, Giorgos. And I need to fix it. Tell Prince Xander I’m sick. Tell him I ran away. Tell him anything you like. But I’m not marrying him. I’m not coming back. Not yet. Not till I’ve sorted it out.’
Shock at her rebellion almost made him stagger. ‘Are you with him now?’
‘I’m not marrying him either,’ Eleni said.
Giorgos muttered a series of swearwords through gritted teeth. She was so damn naive.
‘This child is mine. Pure N
icolaides,’ she said. But then her tone softened to include the gentle plea he’d rarely been able to resist. ‘And please don’t blame Tony for losing track of me. It wasn’t his fault.’
‘Your protection officer has no idea where you’ve gone. He’s clearly incompetent. He has been dismissed.’
‘But it’s not his fault.’ Eleni’s voice rose, returning to that uncharacteristic tone of opposition. ‘I told him—’
‘Lies,’ Giorgos snapped. ‘But it is his fault that he lost track of you. His employment is not your concern.’
‘But—’
‘You should have thought through the consequences of your actions, Eleni. There are ramifications for all the people of Palisades.’
He closed his eyes again. This hurt so much. He needed to make her see sense and stop this foolishness before even more damage was done.
‘How do I stop a scandal here, Eleni?’ he asked as gently as he was able, making himself focus on her and not his own tortured past.
The past he could not change. But the future? That he could help to forge. He would care for his sister however he could. He owed her that, given it was his fault she had no father.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said dully. ‘I take full responsibility. I’ll be in touch when I can.’
Giorgos kept his back to the man in the room long after she’d ended the call, realising how close he was to losing her. That simply was not an option. His sister was all that remained of his family and he’d vowed to protect her—and their family name.
‘His name is Damon Gale...’ his head of security ventured quietly.
Giorgos drew in a deep breath before turning to take on the battle.
‘Everything,’ he said firmly. ‘I need to know every last thing about him. I want all records of him entering and exiting the country. I want to know who he is and what he does—down to what he has for breakfast and what detergent he uses. I want everything. Nothing is too small or too trivial to know.’
‘We’re already putting together a dossier.’
‘I want it in less than an hour.’ He wanted it now.
‘Yes, sir.’
Alone once more, Giorgos paced the room as he waited for the vital information to arrive. How had this man got to Eleni? When had he had the chance to seduce her? He’d arranged a perfectly suitable engagement. She would be going from this palace to another nearby. And she’d been pleased—hadn’t she? She’d always understood the expectations of her.