Claiming His Nine-Month Consequence

“Excuse me,” he said curtly, startling the blonde in the middle of a sentence. He tossed money on the table to pay for the single glass of scotch, barely tasted, left here a few minutes ago by the vapidly smiling waitress. Looking away, he started to rise.

Then he froze.

Across the club, he saw her.

Time seemed to slow around him as a jolt of electricity went through his body. The flashing lights, thumping music, frantic dancers all became just noise, mere smudges of color. Only she was in focus. This woman.

Not a woman. A goddess.

Glossy dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and huge, fringed by thick black lashes. Her full, heart-shaped lips were deep red.

She was dressed differently from the other women. Instead of tight, short, low-cut clubwear, she was innocently sexy in a simple cotton gingham top, sleeveless and secured with a casual tie at the waist. It caressed the hourglass curves of her body, from her full breasts to her tiny waist, expanding to full hips sheathed in feathery-soft jeans.

And the goddess was coming straight for his table.

Ares’s throat went dry.

Straight for him.

His bodyguard stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. It was only when she turned to speak to Georgios that Ares felt able to breathe again.

The young blonde at his table had continued chattering nervously about something or other. He’d forgotten she was there. Sinking back into his chair, he said abruptly, “You should go.”

“Go?” The blonde gave a foolish grin. “You mean to your place?”

Not listening, he made a rough gesture to his bodyguard, who let the gorgeous brunette pass.

Dark-haired and sloe-eyed, the goddess climbed the few steps toward him. He stared at the sway of her hips. What was it that drew him? Her earthy sex appeal in those seemingly modest clothes, like a 1940s pinup? Her incredible body, her soulful eyes?

Whatever it was, she drew him like a flame. Boredom was suddenly the last thing on his mind. His breathing was hard as she came forward. And not only his breathing.

But the brunette barely looked at him. Instead, she turned accusingly to the blonde girl at the table.

“All right. Let’s go.”

The girl, who suddenly looked defiant as a teenager, snapped, “You’re not the boss of me, Ruby!”

Ruby. A beautiful fairy-tale name for a woman who looked like a brazen princess who could tempt any man into eating a poison apple. Ares didn’t mind her possessiveness, not in this case. It was all he could do not to push the other girl out of the chair himself. But he forced himself to say courteously to the blonde, “Yes, you need to go. I’ll be glad to buy your drinks for the night, but—”

“Drinks?” Ruby turned her angry glare on him. Ares felt the same jolt, the one that left him electrified and breathless. “My little sister is underage, Mr. Kourakis. How dare you offer her alcohol?”

“Your sister? Underage?” Frowning, Ares looked at the blonde girl, then back at the goddess. She stood over the table in a fury, taking quick breaths. Understanding dawned. “Is that why you came up here?”

Ruby scowled. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor, Mr. Kourakis. Ivy had this fantastic idea of seducing you and getting knocked up so you’d marry her.”

Ares’s jaw dropped; not at the plan, but at the honesty.

“Shut up!” the girl yelled. “You’re ruining everything!”

“She wanted to marry a billionaire. Any billionaire would do.” Looking at him, Ruby tilted her head, her expression almost contemptuous. “Please excuse her for being stupid. She’s only nineteen.”

The look she gave him spoke louder than words: What kind of man your age would date a teenager?

She made him feel ancient, at the age of thirty-six.

“I hate you!” the blonde cried.

She turned sharply to her sister. “Ivy, go home. Before I have Alonzo toss you out so hard, you bounce on the sidewalk.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” But looking at her, Ivy’s defiance fled. “Fine!” Rising to her feet, she stomped away.

“And don’t even think about telling Mom what you tried to do!” Ruby yelled after her. She glanced back at Ares, humor curving her deliciously full lips. “Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Kourakis. Have a good night.”