Claiming the Drakos Heir
Giving birth to this baby would be such bittersweet joy for all of them—
Someone cleared their throat.
Oh, no. Please say it isn’t so.
Popi turned. There sat Apollo in the same chair that he’d slept in last night. That was it. That chair was going away. All it did was attract the riffraff.
“You better hurry,” she said, trying to keep the agitation from her voice. “You don’t want to miss the ferry...again.”
Apollo got to his feet. “I’m not leaving. This—” he gestured between the two of them “—isn’t finished.”
“It is as far as I’m concerned. Our attorneys can handle it from here. Now I have work to do.”
“Work?” A look of concern flickered over his face. “In your condition?”
“Yes, in my condition. I’m pregnant. Not dying.”
“But still—”
“What did you think? That I’d lie around in bed all day and let the staff wait on me?” With dramatic flair, she pressed her fingertip to her chin. “Oh, wait. I don’t have a staff. There’s just me. And I do just fine on my own.”
Without waiting for him to protest again, she turned and headed down the crushed-seashell walk. There was no way she was letting this man—this pushy guy—tell her what she could and couldn’t do. It wasn’t like she was planning to do any heavy lifting. She doubted she could bend over and right herself again without some help, much less bend down to pick up a piece of furniture. No, she already had a full load on board. She rubbed her belly, feeling a small bulge in the side, wondering if it was an elbow or a knee. Even the agitation of Apollo couldn’t douse the smile the baby brought to her lips.
The crunch of seashells behind her let her know Apollo hadn’t given up on his pursuit of her. Whatever. Let him waste his time. He could leave when the movers did—and that wouldn’t be soon enough.
“Don’t just walk away,” Apollo called out. “I’m not letting this go.”
She kept walking. “And I have work to do.”
“Then I guess I’ll help.”
She sent him a warning glare. She had a lot to coordinate today. She didn’t need him getting in the way—
A sudden pain wrapped around from her back to the front. It knocked the air from her lungs. She stopped. She closed her eyes, for a moment blocking out the world—blocking out Apollo. But she could feel his presence lingering next to her.
“Popi, what’s the matter?” Urgency and concern laced his words. “Is it the baby?”
She opened her eyes to find herself staring straight into his piercing blue gaze. Instead of it being disturbing or upsetting, she found herself comforted by his genuine concern.
And there was something more, but she couldn’t quite name it. Or rather she didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself. But her heart thump-thumped harder and faster. No man had a right to have such piercing blue eyes. It was as though they could see straight through her—see what she was hiding from the world.
But how could that be? She didn’t even know him. And he certainly didn’t know her. That’s the way it must remain.
Because what she did know of him told her that he was the last person that she should count on. He was here today and gone the next. Never one to linger in any one place very long.
She shook her head. “The baby is fine. And so am I.” Maybe it was a little white lie. She’d been pushing herself with the wedding and now the island renovation. After today, she promised herself that she’d rest until her due date. But for now, she had work to do. “I just need you to back off.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “This is me backing off.”
Without another word, she made her way past him, making sure their bodies didn’t touch. There was just something about him—something that got to her. And she couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted.
Something told her his definition of backing off and her definition of backing off were two different things. After all, this man came from great wealth, so he was used to getting what he wanted. But this time would be different.
* * *
A different approach was needed.