The Greek's Innocent Virgin

"This is a wasted discussion. I do not like talking in circles. You are going to marry me and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for everyone in­volved."

"You think so?"

"Yes, because you are too smart and too consci­entious not to do what is best for both you and our unborn child."

"What do I get out of this?" she demanded, in­censed that he could truly believe marriage to him would be best for her.

"I will sign the island villa over to you and settle money on you so you will never be without."

"You want to buy my baby?"

He came away from the counter in an explosion of movement and pulled her from her chair to face him. "I do not want to buy our baby, nor am I buying you. I am taking care of you. That's all. Okay?"

He sounded really driven, but she couldn't work up enough moisture in her mouth to answer. She'd never seen him lose his cool like this before. Not even that time on the beach when he'd been trying to convince her to stay in Greece, had he been like this. His hold wasn't hurting, but he was just vibrating with fury.

He released her and stepped back. "We'll talk about it later. You have a doctor's appointment."

It turned out she had three doctor appointments and Sebastian insisted on being present for all of them.

The thyroid specialist explained that her thyroid was actually just beginning to go into the hyper con­dition and that she could take medication to control it during her pregnancy at no risk to the baby. The heart specialist explained that the same meds that controlled her thyroid would most likely prevent a flare-up of the atrial fibrillation. And the gynecologist told her that once the beta-blockers kicked in, she could resume natural intercourse without risk to her heart or the baby.

She had not appreciated that particular piece of in­formation, or Sebastian's audacity in asking for it.

Which she told him in no uncertain terms as the limo pulled away from the curb in front of the exclu­sive clinic Sebastian had taken her to.

"It was a necessary question," he argued, his feel­ings fully under wraps as if he'd never lost his cool in her kitchen.

"How do you figure that?" She was still feeling belligerent and more than willing to let him see it. "I just could not believe you asked the doctor if it would be safe to resume sexual relations. We don't have sex­ual relations. We had a one-night stand."

"It was not a one-night stand."

"How else would you define it?"

"Anticipation of our wedding vows."

"You're incredible!"

He smiled sardonically. "Thank you."

She huffed out an angry breath and he sighed.

"Face it, Rachel, a platonic marriage between the two of us will be an impossibility."

"First, I have not said I would marry you and sec­ond, if I did agree to marriage it would only be with the stipulation we have separate bedrooms."

"No."

Just that. One word. No arguments, no justifica­tions. She couldn't believe he was so arrogant he re­ally believed she would let him touch her after the way he had rejected her. What, did he think she was some kind of masochist?

Well, she wasn't. "I told you, I don't want sex with you again."

Sebastian turned so his body faced her. "Really?"

An aura of danger filled the interior of the limou­sine and although he hadn't moved any closer to her, she found herself wanting to back away from him.

"Yes, really," she said with a voice that quavered embarrassingly.

"Let's see, shall we?"

"What? No—" But her protest became nothing more than muffled sound against his lips.

He did not demand, he did not force, but used a gentle seduction she found infinitely more difficult to fight. He slanted his mouth over hers again and again with a barely leashed hunger she could sense in the tautness of his body, though his lips were tender on hers.

Her body, frozen for weeks, woke as if it had never been asleep or known bone deep numbness. A million electric impulses jolted through each nerve ending, sending so many messages of pleasure to her brain, she was on instant overload.

She had thought she was detached, but in reality, she had been starved for a sensation only he could give her.

He seemed to sense it and cupping her face in his big hands, he brushed sensually against her jaw with his thumbs. His tongue teased the seam of her lips, seeking permission to enter. She gave it on a low moan, parting her lips in blatant invitation.

He took immediate advantage, sliding his tongue into the warmth of her mouth, tasting her as if he could never get enough of the intimate kiss. She re­sponded with a wantonness that horrified her mind, but her body was powerless to combat. She felt a connection to him that was too primal to be impacted by logic and too strong to be severed by even the still open wounds he'd inflicted on her heart.

"You taste so sweet," he said against her lips and pulled her onto his lap.

She didn't protest, but found herself burrowing into the warmth his body provided, her arms locking around his neck.

He was her anchor in a passionate storm of hurri­cane proportions.

His hands skimmed over her curves, cupping her breasts and playing with their hard and throbbing peaks through the thin fabric of her bra and oversize silk blouse until she thought she would go mad. She squirmed against him, reveling in the evidence of his desire under her bottom. She wanted his mouth on her and did not protest when he started undoing but­tons.

Her bra fastened in front and with a deft flick of his fingers, it was undone. He peeled the fabric back from her swollen flesh and began an exploration that left her breathless and panting from desire.

Suddenly her heart was beating much too fast, feel­ing like it would pound out of her chest and she could not get enough air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried.

She broke her lips from Sebastian, terror filling her. "Sebastian, stop. I can't..."

His head came up with a snap and he looked at her with passion dark eyes. "What?"

"My heart..." She wheezed, trying to breathe.

He cursed, his eyes filling with concern and a hor­rible self-directed fury. "What was I thinking?" he asked, his accent very thick. "Rachel, are you all right, agape mou?"

The sensation began to subside as quickly as it had come upon her and she nodded.

He leaned over, one arm locked securely around her, and pressed the intercom button for the front. He rapped out a series of orders in Greek, then sat back, adjusting her so she was completely surrounded by him and her head was resting on his chest.

"I should not have kissed you yet." His deep voice was laced with remorse.

"We have not even filled your prescriptions." He cursed in Greek again. "I am sorry. I did not intend to put you at risk."

"You had no business kissing me at all." Her an­ger lost some of its impact in translation seeing as how she was cuddled up against him, her fingers now locked in the smooth fabric of his shirt and feeling too physically weak to move.

"You are my woman. Kissing you is my right."

So much for remorse.

"Except when it puts you at risk. Then I must show self-restraint." He spoke in an undertone as if ad­monishing himself.

"I may be the mother of your child." She sat up so she could look into his implacable gray gaze. "But I am not your woman."

"You can say this after the way you responded to my kiss?"

"Yes." But fresh out of arguments to support the stark, one-word answer, she let her head fall against his chest again.

The sensation of weakness lingered even though

her heart had settled back to a less erratic rhythm. It was still beating too fast, though.

Minutes later, they were back at the heart specialist and Sebastian was berating the world renowned doc­tor for allowing her to leave his clinic without having given her a dose of the prescribed medication. The man, who was probably one of the most eminent men in his field, stammered an apology and q

uickly ar­ranged for her to take her first dose of beta-blocker.

Sebastian was not content and insisted she be kept in the clinic for overnight observation. He would not fly her home to Greece until he was sure she was strong enough to make the trip.

"I am sorry, yineka mou. It is my duty to protect you, but I took your health risk too lightly. On the surface, you seemed so healthy, so much like your usual stubborn self, I did not realize how fragile you really are."