The Greek's Pregnant Bride

They were home.

In silence they entered the villa. The live-in staff had long since retired to their own quarters for the night.

Tiny nightlights glowed from the reception through to the living area and up the stairs, bathing Alessandra in a dim light that magnified her sultry beauty.

The ache in his groin, far from diminishing as he’d valiantly willed it to do in the car, increased, his arousal spreading from his loins...

That damn bare arm...

She paused at the bottom of the staircase to look at him. ‘Thank you for a nice evening–’

‘You have enjoyed yourself?’ he cut in, delaying the time she would climb the stairs and head to her room.

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ she answered with a wry smile. ‘It was hardly a night of music and dancing but it was a lot less stuffy than I expected.’

I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable when we go to these

away. ‘Well, good

his feet from crossing

she climbed the stairs and crossed the landing to her bedroom. Only when she reached

disappeared inside her room, closing the door firmly behind

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

around her neck. ‘You can change into the

a waist that seemed to be thickening by the day, spending days with semi-clad underwear models was not doing a great deal for her

skipping to see Christian’s name

landed. How long are you going to

off

of hours. Meet you at my

messaging. She’d steered it that way. The first time he’d called after the embassy do a month ago, her hands had gone clammy just to see his name flash up in the screen. She’d stared at it until it had gone to voicemail, wiped her hands and written a quick message back, apologising that she’d missed his call. He’d messaged straight back. The next few times she’d done the same—avoided the call and then messaged him. Since then, he’d taken to messaging her without bothering to call. It made it easier for her. Having his rich tones play directly into her ear

she forced her concentration back to the skinny model, who’d changed into another lacy number with the help of