Page 42 of The Heir Affair

‘Do not cry, Poppy. I will take care of you both,’ he said, wanting to reassure her. As well as himself.

She sniffed, then smiled. ‘I can only let you do that if you’ll let me take care of you, too.’

He frowned, her offer making no sense to him. But then decided he could live with that, ifherrole was to bear his child, to nurture it, and to take away this constant nagging ache that only she had ever filled.

Tugging her towards him, he slanted his lips across hers, devouring her soft sob of surprise and surrender, determined to seal their deal the only way he knew how.

He angled her head to take the kiss deeper and make her aware of the thick ridge forming against her belly. The hunger intensified as she returned his kiss with equal fervour.

Sex was simple, uncomplicated. This was what he wanted from her, and all he would ever need. To feed the hunger, soothe the longing, sate the desperation.

She was his now, but on his terms. And when they were tired of each other, he would ensure she and the baby would always have what they needed.

Lifting her into his arms, he strode across the terrace, towards his suite.

‘Xander, our dinner?’ she asked, dazed and delightfully flushed.

‘It can wait. It is you I am starving for now,’ he said, grinding out the words as the ruthless need consumed him.

She didn’t object as he carried her to his bed.

Much later—after they had eaten in the moonlight, then made love again—he lay in his bed, staring out of the open terrace doors at the starry sky, the sea breeze cooling his heated skin while he held her warm, exhausted body a little too tightly.

As he caressed her stomach, the fierce hunger returned.

As well as the hollow pain, the old fear, that she might leave him when he needed her still. And suddenly he could think of only one solution.

They must become man and wife.

He would have to handle the proposal with care. She would be resistant, because of that maddening independence that captivated and frustrated him in equal measure.

She was resistant to the life of luxury and leisure he could offer her. But she already understood the ‘freedoms’ she had once taken for granted came with a cost their child would have to pay. So, surely it would not be impossible to convince her she and the child needed the protection of his name. Once the child was born, she would have to nurture it and that would be a full-time job. But surely, given her compassionate nature and her excitement about the pregnancy, being a mother would give her more satisfaction than the menial work she had done before?

He recalled the sheen of deep emotion in her eyes earlier that evening.

Why shouldn’t he use her passionate nature, her sweetness and naiveté and her belief in dreams, to overcome all these other obstacles?

She sighed softly then shifted in his arms, her movements agitated—almost as if she had sensed him making decisions for her again.

He gathered her close, ignoring the prickle of guilt. He pressed his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her—suncream and summer flowers and female musk—and thefamiliar heat pounded between his thighs. He could not let her go, he had to make her stay, that much was non-negotiable.

He had already arranged to conduct his business from Parádeisos for the next couple of weeks. Why not use the time to lay the groundwork for a marriage at the end of their stay here? He had always been ruthless in the pursuit of what he wanted, so why should this situation be any different?

He could not stay on Parádeisos indefinitely. But once they were married, she and his child could live here.

And, once she was living in the place her mother had once dreamed of making her home, she would understand her independence was a small price to pay for a future as his wife, and the mother of his heir.

He had learned, even if she had not, that love was a trap. It was fickle and dangerous because it forced you to rely on other people. And he could never offer any woman that.

But a home—a home that no one could take away from her—that was achievable and real, if… He paused, his arms tightening around her until her restless movements stilled and she relaxed back into sleep…

No,whenhe made her his wife.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Two weeks later

Poppy flashed aquick grin into the foggy bathroom mirror at the muffled rap on her bedroom door.