The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Instead of waiting for him, she dived into the adjoining bathroom and deliberately kept the door ajar, an open invitation for him to join her.

After a good few minutes of soaping herself under the powerful walk-in shower and washing her hair, boredom kicked in.

She dried herself quickly, rubbed the towel over her hair and moisturised her face.

She made to leave the bathroom, pausing at the last moment to put her robe back on, not yet confident enough to walk around stark naked in broad daylight.

The door of the bathroom he’d been using was open. Masculine scents mingled with the steam of the shower, filling the empty bedroom.

Maybe he was ordering breakfast for them.

She wandered through to the main living area of the suite and found him at the dining table—fully dressed and working on his laptop.

He looked up and flashed a quick smile. ‘Good morning.’

caught off-guard to find him working. For surely he must be working? He hadn’t even

you planning on wearing that to Marrakech?’ she asked. They were due to fly there later that

face, quickly gone, but there long enough for her chest to sink

have to take our honeymoon another time,’ he said calmly, looking back at his laptop. ‘An

‘Another one?’

her a smile that was clearly intended to bestow patience when all it did was make her want to

all about finance. When

that. What I don’t get is why it has to

is no one

about our honeymoon and the way it’s supposed to convince the world we’re in

board of an Athens shipping company last month in an advisory capacity. One of my staff has been going through the accounts and has discovered a large hole in the company’s finances. Unless we plug that hole in the next two days, fifty

could she argue with that? She couldn’t, not unless she wanted to

coolly, trying to decide if the whiff of duplicity she detected was real or the workings of a tired, disappointed mind. Four days in Marrakech with nothing to do but

was real. What she did dispute was his assertion that he was