Page 11 of The Heir Affair

Why did the throwaway comment feel so intimate? And that dark look in his eyes, which she remembered far too well from their day together. She’d misunderstood it then. He hadn’t been looking at her with admiration or fascination or even any real interest in her as a person. All he’d really been thinking about was how to seduce her, so he could relax himself with some extra-curricular sex—which she’d been far too willing to provide, after a day spent under that torrid gaze.

‘Sit,’ he murmured, indicating the leather couches that lined the space, the command tempered by the fact the muscle in his jaw had stopped clenching. It felt like a concession of sorts. ‘Would you like anything to drink?’

The offer seemed oddly polite, given their argument, but also strangely conciliatory. Their conversation had got out of control on the lower deck. Keeping things civil made sense, however hard it was for her. He was right about one thing, whatever had occurred five months ago was in the past, and she needed to get over that sense of betrayal—and loss—so she could deal with what happened next.

She’d totally underestimated how complicated this situation was going to be. But adding all those foolish emotions to the mix—which had been based on dreams that had never been real—was just going to make dealing with this man, and her current reality, that much tougher.

She cleared her throat, which was so dry it could give the Sahara Desert a run for its money, and nodded. ‘Umm, yes, thanks, a glass of water would be great.’

He nodded. Producing a pricey bottle of mineral water from the fridge behind the bar, he filled two crystal tumblers and added ice and a slice of lemon to each. He brought both glasses over to where she had perched herself on the butter-soft leather.

She shrugged off the coat and took one. Their fingers brushed. The jolt of reaction rippled through her. She took a big gulp of the icy water, in the hope it might cure her dry throat and cool the now radioactive blush.

He relaxed into the seat next to her, crossing one ankle over his knee, and making the fabric of his trousers stretch over his thigh muscle.

She jerked her gaze to his face, stupidly aware again of how easily his presence could make her think of that day. Those hours they had spent together.

She took another long swallow of her water. Was he waiting for her to say something? Or just trying to unnerve her? Because it was totally working.

As she tried to formulate something coherent to say that wouldn’t make the whole situation worse, he cleared his throat.

‘Have you suffered from any sickness?’ he asked. ‘You have lost weight, despite the pregnancy.’

The probing question, and the astute observation, surprised her. But not as much as the horrifying surge of arousal when he continued.

‘Except your breasts,’ he added, his voice husky as his gaze roamed over her figure with a sense of entitlement that disturbed her almost as much as the way her nipples tightened against her bra under his observation. ‘They are even more generous than I remember.’

‘Th-that’s normal…’ she stammered, wishing she hadn’t taken off the coat now. ‘It’s the hormones.’

He nodded. ‘And the weight loss, is this normal too?’

‘I—I haven’t lost weight,’ she said, then realised how defensive that sounded, especially as strictly speaking it wasn’t entirely true. After her last scan a month ago, the doctor had told her she needed to keep an eye on her nutrition, because the baby was big for dates—not surprising given the size of its father, she realised now—but she was underweight in comparison.

He frowned and then his eyes narrowed, the sceptical expression making her feel even more defensive.

‘Who is handling your maternity care in Galicos?’ he asked.

No one.The answer sprang into her head, but she managed to prevent it from popping out of her mouth, because she could suddenly imagine how irresponsible that might sound. But, really, she was perfectly healthy. A little tired perhaps—because she’d been working nights. And she’d struggled to gain weight initially, because the morning sicknesshadbeen brutal for a few weeks before and after her last antenatal appointment. But she was over that now.

‘I’m perfectly healthy, Alex,’ she countered. The minute she’d used the name he’d given her that day, she wished she could take it back. ‘I—I mean, Mr Caras.’

One dark eyebrow arched, and he leaned back in his seat. He took a long draught of water as he watched her over the rim of the glass. He put it down on the table in front of him. How could he look so relaxed, she wondered, when she felt as if her insides were tied in large greasy knots?

‘You are having my child, Poppy. I think you can call me Alex,’ he said, the husky tone matched by the wry amusement in his eyes.

‘Except that’s not your name,’ she snapped back, reminded all over again of how she’d fallen so easily for his lies that day. ‘The article I read in the business press referred to you as Xander Caras.’

She’d only managed to find one article on him, an interview in an investment magazine, when she’d looked for more information about him after seeing the celebrity piece about his rumoured engagement to Galicos royalty, and more recently the social media thread about his engagement announcement and party. She wished now she’d looked a lot harder, because she felt unarmed. She hadn’t, for example, really understood how wealthy he was until she’d seen his yacht.

‘My given name is Alexander,’ he said, hitching one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. ‘Most people call me Xander, it is true, but you are welcome to call me Alex…’ His gaze drifted to her waist. ‘After all, you are the only woman who has ever been pregnant with my child, so you are notmostpeople.’

She let out a breath, trying desperately to relax and not react to the patient tone. It was pointless having an argument about what she was going to call him. And equally pointless to give in to that foolish flush of pleasure that he considered her special in some way. Of course she was special to him now. But only because she was having his child.

‘You don’t have any other children?’ she asked, because she was suddenly curious.

He shook his head. ‘You are also the only woman I have ever chosen to make love to without using a condom.’

Her cheeks heated again. They’d used withdrawal that day, because they’d both been desperate to feel him inside her. And neither of them had had any other form of protection with them.It had been a stupid risk. She knew that now. But she couldn’t regret it.