Page 28 of The Heir Affair

‘It’s not pity, Xander. It’s sadness, that any child should have to go through something like that. And compassion for that little boy who had nobody. I lost my mum when I was fourteen and it made me feel so alone, because up to then it had just been me and her.’

How had he managed to keep himself and his brother safe? And how had they both made such a success of their lives, and their business? Surely that explained, at least in part, the single-mindedness she found so intimidating.

‘I did not have nobody,’ he said, the annoyance in his voice almost endearing. ‘I had myself and I had my brother—who, despite appearances to the contrary last night, is not always a pain in the butt.’

She smiled. It was obvious he regretted being so candid with her, but his reluctance to speak of that time in his life—something that certainly had not been mentioned in any of the articles she’d read about him—only made the confidences he’d shared more precious.

He placed a callused palm on her cheek. The contact made her shudder, the shiver of reaction streaking down to her bare toes. But, for once, she wasn’t embarrassed by her response.

‘You look tired,’ he murmured, the all-seeing gaze unnerving her again. But then he brushed his thumb under her eye. ‘Have your shower and get dressed. Meghan will have left your clothes in your cabin.’ He glanced through the glass at the end of the space, towards the Sorrento shoreline, which was fast approaching. ‘I will order a new breakfast to be served to you in your room, and then we can go ashore…’ His eyes narrowed as he let his hand drop. ‘If you will promise not to run away from me.’

That was a pretty bigif, but somehow the hot glow in his eyes, plus the confidences they’d shared, made her feel less inclined to rebel against the string of orders he’d just issued.

Now she had some idea why he needed to be in control at all times—and why his child’s safety was so important to him—she was prepared to give him some slack.

‘I’ll promise not to run away from you, if you promise not to kidnap me again.’

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, but then he let out a gruff chuckle that had her own lips quirking. She didn’t need his validation, or his permission, but the glow of approval in his blue gaze had the ripple of reaction at her core turning into a definite hum.

‘You drive a hard bargain,’ he said, apparently only half joking.

‘Do we have a deal?’ she countered. ‘Or don’t we?’

He swore under his breath, looking more resigned than approving, but then he gave a reluctant nod. ‘I guess.’

‘Excellent,’ she said, pleased, because she was sure she had just got a major concession.

Whether he lived up to his end of the bargain remained to be seen. But the fact they’d both managed to share something personal about their past was important, if they were ever going to rebuild trust.

They werebothgoing to be on a steep learning curve—as he figured out how to control his insistence on being the boss of all things, and she figured out how to control her determination never to take orders from anyone ever again.

But perhaps spending time with him—on his very luxurious yacht—and getting to see the Amalfi Coast, without having to worry about how on earth she was going to pay for it, wouldn’t besobad.

She would have to find a job sooner rather than later, as her financial independence was important to her. But the baby was the responsibility ofbothof them, and she needed to accept that.

On impulse, she pushed up onto her toes and touched her lips to his, in a fleeting kiss. But when he went to grab her and pull her back into his arms, she danced away.

‘Let’s go and explore Sorrento.’ She threw the words over her shoulder. ‘I’ve never been there before.’

She heard him grumbling in Greek as she laughed and dashed out of the door.

CHAPTER EIGHT

How can shebe so enchanting and so infuriating at the same time?

Xander stared at the woman in front of him as she bartered enthusiastically with a stallholder to buy fresh figs in her rudimentary but surprisingly effective Italian. The simple summer dress she had insisted on buying with her own money at a small boutique off the Piazza Tasso flattered her figure, while only just accommodating the pregnancy belly that had begun to fascinate him. A shaft of heat eddied through him, at the memory of her nude body—so lush and delicious—laid out on his bed that morning. Dark engorged nipples, full breasts, the compact bump where his child nestled and her rounded hips—so firm in his hands as he plunged into the tight clasp of her sex.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the erotic visions—which had been tormenting him all day—before he embarrassed himself in the open market square.

But he couldn’t shake the surge of lust that accompanied them.

Sex had always been a basic physical urge for him, something he enjoyed and had learned to do well but was easily forgotten once he had climaxed. He prided himself on knowing how to please the women he slept with, because their enjoyment enhanced his own. But the burning hunger he felt for Poppy was very different. Something he now suspected he needed to bemore wary of. Because making love to her only made him more addicted to her, and had a devastating effect on his usual caution and self-control.

Why else would he have blurted out information about his childhood to her that he had never confided in anyone, except Theo?

He was not ashamed of his past. His father’s abandonment and the desperate years that followed had made him the man he was now—driven, focussed and extremely ruthless when necessary. Nor did he see any reason to dwell on those early hardships, or re-examine the effect they might have had on his psyche. Or to revisit the night when his father had shaken him awake, the smell of stale liquor on his breath, and told him he was now the man of the family.

Until Poppy had stood before him so valiantly and given him an insight into the grief that had blighted her childhood—and made him ashamed of not even considering her feelings when he had chosen to leave Galicos without her consent.