Pregnant by the Commanding Greek

She fiddled with the box of cutlery the earlier resident had wanted her to return to the shop he’d purchased it from and just knew the man was not smiling.

‘Harold’s neighbour was away yesterday and only learned about what happened this morning. She’s asked to take Toby. She cares for him very much.’

‘That makes sense.’ His reply was clipped.

‘Actually, a number of the residents offered to take Toby when they heard what had happened,’ she said meaningfully. ‘I think a lot would like the “no pets” rule to be lifted.’

She glanced up then and saw winter had returned to his deep brown eyes. There was no hint of the intimacies they’d shared in his expression. There was nothing at all but cool control.

‘Why are you on duty? It’s Saturday. Haven’t you been working all week?’ He fired the questions like bullets.

So that was a no to pets, then. And a no to any kind of smile.

‘One of the others called in sick and, as I was here early to check on Toby...’ She glanced at Joel, working near by, concerned he could hear them.

‘Of course.’ Leon nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘It really is the best thing, I think,’ she babbled anxiously because he had such a remote expression in his eyes and she felt him distancing himself even as he stood there. ‘He’ll be well cared for. She knows him and...’ She licked her lips, dying of mortification, and tried to smile. ‘I’ll have his things cleared from your apartment shortly.’

He shot her an ice-cool look. ‘You’ll send one of the porters?’

‘Of course.’ Nervously she nodded. Because he didn’t want her back up there?

Of course he didn’t. Could the earth just open up and swallow her whole? Now? She’d made the right decision to run.

The second Leon left, Ettie leaned against the desk and breathed out, appallingly weak at the knees. That was it. There’d been no real goodbye. Nor was there any glow of amusement in his eyes—no sense of shared intimacy. If anything she had the odd feeling she’d somehow let him down. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? He’d had what he wanted. So had she. And now there was no need to have to talk about it or anything mortifying like that. They could just pretend it had never happened.

It was over.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘WHERE’S ETTIE?’ THE beautifully clad woman demanded an answer from the youngest concierge. Joel—according to his monogrammed shirt.

Leon paused at a distance, unable to resist listening in for the answer.

‘I’m sorry, Ms Welby, Ettie is away sick.’ Joel offered an apologetic smile.

The woman laughed. ‘Ettie is never sick. Just as Ettie never takes holidays. Ettie is simply always here. That’s her job.’

‘Well, she’s not here now,’ Joel said firmly.

No, she wasn’t. She hadn’t been at the desk for the last two days. Leon had noticed. He’d more than noticed; he’d missed her—missed seeing her smile and hearing her lovely chat with the residents.

He’d tried to avoid the concierge desk as much as possible initially. Unfortunately, he’d soon discovered that it was the heart of the operation. He’d pushed back—spending long hours at his office headquarters, taking more meetings. But he’d always glanced over when he’d walked in. And as the weeks passed, he’d walked through the lobby a little more often than was really required. But she still didn’t look at him.

And now, even though it had been over three weeks, even though he knew all he needed to, he couldn’t bring himself to move out of the penthouse and go home. Ettie still irritated him—rather, the way he kept thinking about her still irritated him—and that was a problem, given what he’d discovered about the way Cavendish House was run.

Awareness of her absence—two days running—sharpened his curiosity. And a chill of warning slithered down his spine because he saw the protectiveness in Joel’s eyes as he referred to Ettie being ill. The young guy was concerned about his colleague. So what was wrong with her exactly, if Ettie was never ill?

‘May I help instead?’ Joel asked the resident awkwardly. ‘Ettie’s been schooling me in sorting dry-cleaning, you know.’

But the woman dropped her bundle of clothing on the desk and leaned towards Joel. ‘Is Ettie actually okay?’

She’d gone from demanding customer to concerned busybody in a flash. That the woman genuinely was concerned for Ettie underlined everything Leon had learned: that everyone adored Ettie and relied on her completely.

‘She should be back tomorrow.’ Joel’s smile wasn’t reassuring enough. ‘Let me take this for you in the meantime.’

The woman scooped up the dresses with a laugh. ‘Thanks, but I don’t trust anyone except Ettie. I’ll wait for her to return.’

‘If you’re sure, madam.’

‘You know I am.’ She turned and caught sight of Leon watching her and her expression lit up with a huge smile. ‘Oh, Mr Kariakis, it’s lovely to finally meet you. My name’s Autumn; I’m in apartment twenty-three.’

Leon nodded. ‘Is everything okay for you, Autumn?’

‘Well, apparently Ettie is away sick, which is hopeless, because she runs this place, Mr Kariakis; I hope you’re aware of that.’

He nodded. He’d rapidly become aware of the fact, as it happened. In every conversation he had with either resident or management, it was Ettie to whom they referred for fixing problems. Which was why the fact that he’d taken her to bed was more of a problem than he’d expected it would be. That and the fact that he still couldn’t get her out of his head. ‘I’m glad you appreciate the service the Cavendish offers.’

‘I appreciate Ettie,’ she said firmly. ‘Ettie is simply the best.’

Yes, she was. He never should have slept with her.

‘How long has she been away?’ Leon asked Joel as idly as he could after Autumn had headed towards the lift.

‘I’m sure she’ll be back tomorrow,’ Joel said with a valiant defence. ‘Ettie’s never sick.’

That didn’t answer his question, but Leon let it slide. He’d give her until tomorrow to return; if she didn’t, then he was going to have to investigate.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had only been one night and he’d had many

one nights with many women, so why was he stuck thinking about her?

Was it simply because she now seemed to be missing? Why wasn’t she at work? He disliked unanswered questions. Just as he disliked messy endings and tearful women. They were why he stuck to one night.

Ettie was the first woman who’d left him. No tears, no mess, no reference to it at all, in fact. If it hadn’t been for the sweet scent of her lingering in the air, he might have imagined the whole thing. Except he dreamed of it every night too.

Not turning up to work wasn’t something she often did. Nor were one-night stands. When he’d approached her in front of her colleagues that next day she’d been dying of mortification; he’d just been too annoyed to pay attention to it properly at the time. She was shy. Inexperienced. Sweet. And he was a fool for having lost his head and seducing her. Especially now it had become clear she was the main asset of this entire enterprise and he needed her to take more of a leading role.

A horrible thought hit him: was he the reason she was away now? Was she so embarrassed by what had happened she was off hunting for another job? Or had he hurt her in some way and not realised—was that why she’d run off so early that next morning? And how was it possible he felt the loss of that damn dog when he’d had custody over it for less than twenty-four hours?

A sharp memory impinged on his mind. A memory he’d blocked for years—of a tiny puppy he’d adored more than anything else in his life. Only it had been snatched away from him just as everything important had then. He’d been betrayed again by the most important person in his life. He swiftly, curtly reminded himself that pets, like people, were not permanent. The loss of them hurt. Which was why he kept them at a distance.

Emotions—all emotions—were a weakness. He’d learned that lesson long ago and he’d remember it well now. Never admit to them, never show them.

It was barely eight in the morning when he went down to the concierge desk the next day. He’d hardly slept. He wasn’t going to rest properly until he knew. That fact irritated him. He didn’t allow other people’s problems to affect him. He didn’t let his own problems affect him. He just fixed them.