The Greek's Pregnant Bride

She’d become increasingly quiet since their wedding. It was only tonight, when she’d been her old, sociable self, that he’d realised quite how withdrawn she’d become.

Was he the cause? Had his mother’s prediction already started coming true?

He wanted to reach out to her and find out what troubled her but didn’t know how.

She raised a shoulder—the bare shoulder he’d spent the evening trying not to stare at. It had been an effort of epic proportions that had failed. That one naked limb had acted like a beacon to his eyes. The rest of her had acted as a beacon to his senses.

Holding her hand, feeling her warm, slender body brushing against him...

All the good work he’d done in recent weeks building a distance from her had crumbled.

Theos, he ached for her. Ached to possess her all over again with a burn so deep it was like fighting through treacle fog to remember why he had to keep his distance.

‘Are you going to take Kerstin on?’ she surprised him by asking.

and aptitude. Her father

to her. He didn’t want

‘I think you should.’

‘What? Take her on?’

turned her head to look at him. Her features were still,

dark to

on in the capacity she and her father have requested, she will do a lot

so, we can stop

made her sleep. How many hours had he spent these past few weeks on his jet, taking advantage of her oblivion to study her sleeping form, reminding himself over and over why he could only look at her? Theos, he wanted to

a smile playing on her lips. It was too dark to tell if her eyes smiled too. ‘I do

be a good candidate

child

man in the European banking world. To take Kerstin under his

was highly intelligent, multilingual and already had an excellent grasp of