Bought to Carry His Heir - Page 8

“You don’t need to call anyone.”

“Oh, but I do. I’ve had enough of your hospitality and think I’d be more comfortable in a hotel somewhere in Athens—”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“But I can. You’re my responsibility. You’re in my care.”

“Are you telling me that I can’t leave?”

For a moment there was just silence. His jaw tightened. His dark eyes glowed, and then his lashes dropped, concealing his expression. “You are safe here,” he said quietly. “Safer here than anywhere else in Greece.”

“But I don’t feel safe. You don’t respect me, nor do you respect my need for distance and boundaries.”

He frowned. “How am I not respecting your boundaries? I haven’t touched you, haven’t threatened you in any way.”

“If you don’t know what respect is, I am certainly not going to try to explain it to you. But it does renew my concern about staying here, living in such close proximity to you. Safety isn’t just physical. It’s psychological—”

“Renew your concern? What does that mean? You were not comfortable coming here?”

“Of course I wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t know you. I still don’t. But what I’ve learned since arriving isn’t flattering.” She held his gaze. “I feel as if you and Mr. Laurent deliberately deceived me—”

“Deceived you how? Were you not paid? Were you not given an incredibly generous bonus for traveling here?”

“Now that I know you, it wasn’t enough. In fact, I don’t think you could have ever paid me enough to put up with your nonsense.”

He threw his head back. “Nonsense?”

“Yes. You’re behaving like a thug, a bully—”

“That’s enough, gynaika.”

She had no idea what he’d called her in Greek, but she didn’t particularly care, not when his tone and words were so insufferably patronizing. “I’d like to use your phone. I want to call Mr. Laurent.”

“And what do you think Mr. Laurent is going to do?”

“Get me a plane ticket out of here.”

“Mr. Laurent works for me. He is my attorney.”

“He promised me...” Her voice faded, and she swallowed hard as she struggled to remember just what Mr. Laurent had promised. She drew a blank. Surely Mr. Laurent had promised her something...?

“And what did my attorney promise you, Georgia?” Nikos drawled, seeing her uncertainty.

She held her breath, fighting her nerves. Her heart hammered hard. “He said you were a good person. He said you could be trusted.” She stared him in the eye. “And I believed him. And I believed in you. So, either you respect my wishes, and leave my room now, or I will know everything he said, and everything you are, is a lie.”

Thank God her voice was clear, strong, authoritative. It was the right voice for emergencies.

And Nikos Panos was most definitely an emergency, especially when he stood toe to toe with her, hands clenched, jaw tight. His dark eyes continued to bore into her, scorching her, demanding her to back down. Acquiesce.

Georgia didn’t acquiesce. Ever.

“No one speaks to me with such impertinence,” he ground out.

“Perhaps if they did, you’d have better manners.”

“Enough,” he snapped, silencing her. “Enough with your words. The sound of your voice exhausts me. I am quite certain my son is fed up, as well.” And then he walked out.

Georgia dropped onto the couch in the living room and curled her legs up under her, stunned. She felt as if she’d been through a major battle and she was wiped out.

Nikos Panos was not like any man she’d ever met before, and she sincerely hoped she’d never meet anyone like him again.

Even after sitting for several minutes she continued to shake. She wasn’t afraid, just shell-shocked.

She couldn’t believe his behavior. She couldn’t imagine anyone acting that way, much less to the woman hired to carry his child.

How did he think she’d react when he threw his weight around, told her how to dress, how to behave?

A rap sounded on her door. She knew from the firm knock who it was.

“Yes?” she called, too worn-out to get off the couch.

The door opened, and Nikos stood on the threshold, looking not much happier than he had ten minutes ago when he’d stormed out.

“May I come in?” he asked with terse civility.

“If we’re done fighting,” she answered.

He entered her suite of rooms, walking toward her. “I don’t enjoy it, either.”

She arched a brow but didn’t contradict him.

He paced the living room floor, up and back, his jaw hard, his glossy black hair tousled but still framing his handsome features perfectly.

When he wasn’t talking and enraging her, he was a beautiful man.

“I am not a barbarian,” he said at length. “I’m not a caveman or a werewolf.” He turned, faced her, arms folded over his powerful chest. “I am just a man. That is all.”

There was something different in his voice and eyes. Something almost vulnerable. She felt a peculiar ache in her chest, and she swallowed around the lump forming in her throat.

When he wasn’t growling at her and stalking her and making her heart beat too fast, he was quite handsome, and just possibly a tiny bit appealing. But he growled and muttered and intimidated far more than necessary.

“I am sorry if I hurt your feelings,” she said carefully, “but your world here isn’t my world. Your life here—it’s what you know—but it’s all new for me. And it’s not normal for me.”

“I have never intended to disrespect you. I have merely tried to help you.”

She nearly smiled at his idea of being helpful, and then her smile faded as she remembered his last words before he marched out. “I can forgive nearly all of it, but you were deliberately cruel when you said that your son was fed up with the sound of my voice.”

He said nothing. He just looked at her.

A lump filled her throat, making it hard to swallow. Her eyes burned, and her heart felt so sore. If she wasn’t careful, she’d cry, and she never cried. At least, she rarely cried, and she never cried in front of strangers. Or Savannah. She never wanted to frighten Savannah. Georgia prided herself on her strength.

Now she knotted her hands in her lap and blinked hard to clear her eyes. “You do know that your son lives in my body.” She was fighting the lump in her throat now. It had doubled in size and was making it difficult to speak. “Your son doesn’t even know you yet, Nikos. The only thing he knows right now is me. My voice. My heartbeat. And for your information, he likes both, quite a bit.”

Nikos’s jaw flexed, a tiny muscle bunching in his jaw, near his ear. “I’m certain he does,” he said quietly. “I’m sure he thinks you’re his mother.”

The words, gently spoken, cut her to the quick.

The tears she’d fought to hold back now flooded her eyes, and she looked away and bit down ruthlessly into her lower lip, forcing her teeth into the soft skin, drawing blood to distract her from the pain Nikos had just caused.

He was right, of course.

Absolutely right.

And yet she had never once let herself think those words, or feel the power of them.

The baby would lose his mother, just as she had lost her mother...

It wasn’t fair, not for him. Maybe not for any of them. But it was the decision she had made to help provide for her sister. It was the only thing she could think to do given their circumstances.

She blinked hard, fiercely, trying to dry the tears, praying he didn’t see them.

Tags: Jane Porter Billionaire Romance
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