CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

A RISTOPHANES STARED AT the slightly reflective steel wall at Nell’s back, thanking God he couldn’t see his own reflection. Because he was pretty sure he’d find himself looking into the eyes of a complete fool.

A fool who’d thrown both his intellect and self-control straight out of the window in favour of parts located below his belt.

He was appalled at himself. Again.

What magic did this woman possess that she made him lose his head every time he saw her? The smallness of the elevator hadn’t helped, it was true, making it impossible to put distance between them. And all he’d been conscious of was the scent of her, so sweet and feminine, and that yet again she was wearing a dress that outlined every luscious curve of her body, including the little bump of her stomach where his child lay.

A heated, raw feeling had flooded through him then, primitive and possessive, that had made him want to back her against the wall and claim her, make her his in every way.

He’d fought the urge, battled it hard, yet he hadn’t been able to drag his gaze from hers. Her dark eyes had been velvet soft and he’d seen them heat in response to him, getting even hotter the longer they stared at each other. Then the tension had pulled tighter and tighter until he’d known he had to take some kind of action, otherwise he’d go mad.

He shouldn’t have backed her up against the wall, but he had. And then she’d reached for him, drawing his mouth down on hers and...he’d lost himself. Lost himself as completely and utterly as he had that night with her three months earlier.

Perhaps he should have done what he’d intended to do tonight, sent Nell away and gone to see Claire. But...he couldn’t even remember Claire’s face or the sound of her voice, not with Nell slumped against him, her forehead resting against his shoulder, her face pressed to the cotton of her shirt, the warmth of her breath soaking through the fabric and into him...

She’s pregnant with your child. If you claim her, you could have her close whenever you needed her. You wouldn’t have to do all that matching schedules nonsense...

Aristophanes went very still as the thought struck him and echoed.

What if he could have her—have this—any time he wanted? He’d still have to schedule time with her, but it would be much more efficient to schedule it with a woman he knew he wanted and who would satisfy his bodily needs.

As for his child, he already knew that he wouldn’t abandon it. He’d never do to his own son or daughter what his mother had done to him. He was a better man than that.

Of course, he had no idea how to be a father, but surely it couldn’t be too hard. Cesare had managed it and his little girl seemed to be a happy, normal child despite having him for a father. That might have been down to Lark, Cesare’s wife, but that was why a child had two parents. He’d only ever had one since he’d never known who his father was and he felt no urge to find out. Any man who abandoned his child was as bad as his mother, in Aristophanes’ opinion.

He wasn’t sure if Nell was here for child support or something else but, given their physical chemistry, he’d already decided what he was going to do. She might not be open to it, but he was confident he could convince her. He could be persuasive when he wanted to be.

Time was passing, the minutes ticking by, and now was not the time to be standing here. They needed to talk. Also, he needed to tell the secretaries who managed his diary to arrange an appropriate apology gift for Claire, since he wouldn’t be meeting her after all. It was also likely that they were going to have to rearrange his schedule to accommodate...other things. A child, for one. Possibly a woman for another.

Now, though, Nell had to be dealt with, so he eased himself away from her, obtaining yet more satisfaction from the slight sound of protest she made at his retreat.

‘We need to talk,’ he murmured as he helped her down from the rail so she was standing, unable to resist tracing the curve of her stomach where his child lay, a fleeting, possessive touch before he rearranged her clothes and dealt with his own. ‘I have made some decisions.’ He turned to the elevator doors, hitting the button once again.

The elevator shuddered into life and resumed its climb to his office.

‘What decisions?’ she asked, her clear voice pleasantly husky.

The sound of it shivered over his skin, the knowledge that she sounded like that because of the orgasm he’d given her making him hard all over again.

Yes, this was clearly something he was going to have to deal with. His physical response to her either needed to be nipped in the bud or indulged to its fullest extent until he didn’t feel it any more.

Since she was pregnant and he would not abandon his child, indulging it seemed to be the best course of action.

He turned and looked down at her.

She was in the process of smoothing down the dress she wore, the fabric clinging deliciously to her curves, and he couldn’t help raking his gaze hungrily down her body. If he kept her for a time, he could dress her in expensive gowns, of the finest material, that he could then tear off. Or maybe he would simply cover her naked body in jewels. He had more money than he knew what to do with... Why not?

Her cheeks were flushed and as he stared at her, she went an even deeper shade of rose.

‘Decisions about you,’ he said as the elevator arrived at his floor and chimed. ‘About the child.’

She blinked, clearly still coming back down to earth. ‘What about me and the child?’

The doors opened then so he turned back, taking her hand and stepping out directly into his vast office.

It occupied one corner of the top floor of his skyscraper, a huge, open-plan space with little islands of furniture dotted here and there. A desk positioned near the acres of floor-to-ceiling windows with a chair on the other side of it. Then across the pale carpet stood a meeting table surrounded by chairs. Near one of the other windows was a sectional couch of bone-coloured leather. A huge whiteboard covered in complicated maths equations stood by itself in the centre of the space.

The whiteboard and the desk were the main things he used, the space between the other bits and pieces of furniture where he paced up and down while he ran projections and equations in his head.

She came with him as he went over to his desk, her hand in his small and warm, and didn’t resist as he guided her to the chair that stood in front of it.

‘Sit,’ he murmured.

He didn’t want to release her, but he forced his fingers to uncurl from hers, helping her into the chair, even though she didn’t need him to. It was difficult to keep from touching her, a light hand on the small of her back, a passing brush to her elbow.

She glanced up at him as she settled, dark eyes burning. Some of her hair had escaped its braid and was curling around her face, her cheeks still stained the prettiest shade of pink. And again he felt the same burst of satisfaction as he had when his fingers had quested between her thighs and found her warm and wet and ready for him.

He’d put that flush in her cheeks. He’d put that dark passion in her eyes.

It was primitive, that satisfaction, and he should be wary of it. Should be forcing it aside, along with all those other bothersome biological responses.

It wasn’t that he denied his body—it was, after all, the vessel that contained his mind and so he looked after it, made sure it stayed in optimal condition. But he resented anything that distracted his intellect, and most especially when he was working.

A child is certainly going to distract your intellect.

The thought crept through him, making every muscle get tight, a burning sensation in his chest. No, a child would not distract him. He wouldn’t let it. He’d keep both the child and the woman close, keep them near so he could keep any such distractions to a minimum.

Forcing his recalcitrant feelings back into the box he kept them in, Aristophanes strode around the side of the desk then sat down in the vast black leather chair behind it.

‘So,’ he said. ‘These decisions. The child is mine, correct?’

Nell’s eyes widened slightly in surprise then narrowed, her full mouth compressing. ‘Of course the child is yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since you.’

For a moment a weighted silence hung between them and he found himself staring into those velvety eyes of hers, the memories of that night filling the vast space of his office with heat and desperation, and the most intense physical pleasure. It was clear she was sharing in those memories, too, because her gaze darkened even further, turning smoky, the tightness leaving her lovely mouth, her lips parting just a touch.

They’d had sex mere moments before and yet he could feel his desire rising yet again, heating the blood in his veins and making him hard. If he let this silence go on too much longer, he wasn’t going to be able to stay in his chair. He was going to lunge across the desk and grab her, drag her into his lap like a lion with an antelope.

She took a soft breath. ‘Mr Katsaros—’

‘I have many houses scattered across the globe,’ he said abruptly, forcing the desire away, trying to get some control back. ‘You choose which one you prefer to bring our child up in.’

Nell blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You will live with the child in one of my houses. I don’t care which it is.’

‘I... I don’t—’

‘If finances are a problem, I will take care of it.’ He found himself gripping the arms of his chair as if that were the only thing stopping him from reaching for her. ‘You and the child will want for nothing.’

The smoky look had vanished from her eyes and they sharpened. ‘You...want me to live with you?’

‘No, not with me.’ He wasn’t used to having to explain himself. He’d always thought it a waste of precious time, and he resented having to do so now. It was this need, though, that was the problem. This desire wrapping its hands around his throat and squeezing him, choking him, making it difficult to think. He never found it difficult to think. ‘I do not live anywhere in particular. You will have one of my houses and the child will be raised there.’

The desire had vanished utterly from her gaze, giving way to shock. ‘You’re joking,’ she said. ‘I mean, seriously?’

Annoyance started to bite. At himself and the desire that wouldn’t seem to leave him alone, that he couldn’t control. At her and her beauty, and the way his body had fixated on her for some reason. At how she clouded his mind and made it difficult to think.

His mind had been his sanctuary, the perfect escape from the drudgery of living ever since he’d been a child. An escape from loneliness, from anger, from longing. A private world where he was the master. That mastery now extended into the real world and he would allow no one to compromise it, still less one little preschool teacher from Melbourne, no matter how lovely she was.

‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I am not. The child is mine, my heir. He or she will also need a mother, therefore your presence will be required.’ He paused, his fingers clenched around the arms of his chair. ‘Your presence will also be required in my bed.’ His jaw felt tight, a muscle leaping there. It felt as if he were trying to hold back the tide. ‘And that, Miss Underwood, is non-negotiable. Do you understand?’

Nell stared at the man sitting across the acres of dark oak.

He sat like a king, the vast black leather chair his throne, his gaze boring into hers. It burned that gaze, nothing but molten silver, making her feel hot all over.

She’d thought that maybe those feverish frantic moments in the elevator would have blunted the edge of her own desire, but they hadn’t. If anything they had only intensified it, made her hungry for more. It hadn’t been water on a fire but gasoline, and now she felt as if he’d burned away some vital part of her, a layer that had been protecting her, leaving her vulnerable and raw and, yes, still desperate for him.

Perhaps it was a combination of pregnancy hormones and shock. Or maybe it was just him. Him and the all-consuming way he looked at her, as if he was as hungry for her as she was for him.

Still. Even after three months had passed.

God, she couldn’t look away.

Tension radiated from him, a muscle leaping in the side of his strong jaw, his hands gripping the arms of his chair as if he was afraid what he might do if he let go.

You did that to him. That was all you.

He wanted her and she’d loved that hunger of his. She hadn’t had to do a thing. She’d just been herself and now she had this powerful man, this billionaire who owned the towering skyscraper she was sitting in, ravenous for her.

It was intoxicating, a welcome respite from the months of uncertainty and fear and constant exhaustion, and she wanted more of it. She hadn’t tested the boundaries of her effect on him back in Melbourne that night, not when they’d been too busy with their basic hunger for each other, but now she wanted to. She wanted to test her power.

Get it together. He’s basically demanding you sleep with him again, remember?

Nell took a sudden breath. What had he said? That he wanted her and the baby to live in one of his houses, and she would be in his bed. And that was non-negotiable.

Awareness flooded back in, cold as ice, washing away the heat and the pulse of desire.

She struggled to shake off the force of his intense gaze. ‘That’s...not why I came here,’ she said, trying to get rid of the husk in her voice. ‘I don’t want your money.’

He didn’t move, his beautiful face set in hard lines. ‘Then why did you come?’

‘You know why. I told you.’

‘The baby, yes. But that could have been a phone call. What else did you want?’

‘I didn’t have your number and no one would give it to me, and I thought...this was a conversation we should have face to face.’ Her hands twisted in her lap, the adrenaline coursing through her making her feel restless and antsy. ‘Our baby needs a father and I wanted to give you the chance to be one.’

His gaze roved over her face, her hair, her shoulders and down over the curves of her breasts, and she knew she should draw her coat around herself, that she shouldn’t pour any more petrol on this particular fire, yet she didn’t move.

There was something powerful in his hunger. Something that made her feel as if she, the mediocre cuckoo in her aunt and uncle’s nest, was beautiful and mysterious. A femme fatale who could make a man do anything. Perhaps she could make this man do anything.

Before she knew what she was doing, Nell leaned back slightly in her chair, allowing her coat to fall open so that the curves of her body were clearly visible beneath her clinging dress.

As she knew it would, his gaze followed those curves, igniting little fires inside her everywhere it went.

‘I will be a father,’ he said roughly. ‘I will be anything you want. As long as you and I sleep together as much as possible. I’ll have to rearrange my schedule, of course, but I can make it work.’

Sleep together as much as possible sounded good, yes—

What are you doing? Did you fully comprehend what he’s asking you to do? You didn’t come here for this. You came for the sake of your baby.

Nell gritted her teeth, attempting to put aside the heat rising inside her, trying to focus yet again on what he’d said. He would be a father. Also, there was something about a schedule...

‘Schedule?’ she asked. ‘What schedule?’

‘The schedule I use to run my life,’ he said. ‘My time is expensive and so I schedule every minute of it. That includes any time I take to spend with lovers. I will add the baby to the schedule and I will definitely be adding time for you.’

A little shock went through her, though she wasn’t sure why. Important people were often very busy, so it made sense to have a schedule. Then again, scheduling lovers? That seemed over the top.

Aristophanes Katsaros was over the top though. Everything about him screamed intensity. The vivid silver of his eyes. His deep, rough voice. His compelling, electric presence. A genius. A billionaire. Head of a global finance company. Powerful. No part of him was middle-of-the-road.

And this man was the father of her baby.

There was such satisfaction to be had about that particular fact. That this man was her child’s father and that she, as mediocre as she was, had attracted his attention.

In a dim corner of her brain, a warning sounded. Because no matter how pleased she was that he wanted her, he was also a stranger to her, despite how many times she’d had sex with him. And now he was demanding that she live in one of his houses. Demanding that she be put in his schedule so they could have sex.

What on earth was she doing even contemplating it? She’d slipped up back in the elevator and made a mistake, giving in to the power of their physical chemistry. It couldn’t happen again, not given how much it clouded her thinking. She had a child to consider now and that baby was more important than anything else in her entire life.

Taking another slow breath, she dug her nails into her palms, the slight pain an antidote to the heat in her blood. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you to schedule me for anything. And I don’t want to move into one of your houses either, not when I don’t even know you.’

Instantly his dark brows drew down into a scowl, the silver glitter of his eyes becoming even more intense. ‘That is not acceptable,’ he growled.

‘Which part is not acceptable?’

‘All of it.’

Nell tried to keep a grip on her temper, meeting him stare for stare, because, while she might be only a lowly kindergarten teacher and he a powerful billionaire, she couldn’t let him get under her skin. Not again. He might be used to getting his way, but she wouldn’t let him this time. Stubbornness of the male kind was something she was used to dealing with—in boys, admittedly, not men—but fundamentally they were the same.

She needed to hold her ground, make him understand that he wasn’t in charge of this.

‘I don’t care if it’s acceptable,’ she said evenly. ‘The only thing I require of you is that you be a father to this child. Be part of their life.’

‘So you’ve already said.’

‘I only wanted to make sure you heard. Little boys have painted-on ears.’

His scowl became a glower, his gaze burning like liquid mercury. ‘I am not a little boy, Miss Underwood,’ he said in a voice like gravel. ‘Shall I demonstrate how I differ?’

More heat shot down her spine. Oh, yes, she wanted him to demonstrate. She badly wanted him to demonstrate . But again, she couldn’t give in. Sex with him wasn’t what she was here for. Because while it had been amazing, the experience in the elevator had also reminded her of why surrendering to him was a bad idea.

She’d always wanted a husband and partner, a family, a chance to recreate the family she’d lost after her parents had died. She wanted that security again, the feeling of belonging, and she already knew she wasn’t going to get that with Aristophanes Katsaros.

He was rich and powerful beyond her wildest imaginings. He belonged to a world she had no conception of and didn’t want to be a part of anyway. And even aside from all of that, he was also incredibly overbearing and rude. A man like that would suck her in, chew her up, and spit her out, she had no doubt.

She shifted, holding his relentless stare. The glitter of heat still burned there, but there were shadows now as well. The storm clouds of his temper, tarnishing the silver to steel.

‘If you don’t want me to treat you like a little boy, then you’ll have to stop acting like one,’ she said with an attempt at calm. ‘I am not having sex with you again, and I will not be moving out of my flat, and that’s final.’

His eyes darkened further. He was clearly not a man used to being denied. ‘I am very rich, Miss Underwood. You do understand that, don’t you? If you don’t want one of my houses, then I can buy you one. I can buy you a whole town if you prefer.’

‘I don’t want you to buy me anything.’

‘But you do want me to be involved in my child’s life, correct?’

‘Yes. I believe a child should have two parents.’

‘A child always has two parents.’

Nell gritted her teeth. ‘That’s not what I’m asking and you know it.’

‘No, I do not know it. You wished me to be involved, so here I am, involving myself.’ The tension in the air around him had thickened and pulled taut, and now she could feel it reaching her, an electrical field prickling over her skin.

He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. ‘What, exactly, is your objection?’

She dug her nails into her palms harder. ‘I’m not upending my entire life to go and live in one of your houses. I have a job. I have friends. I don’t want to leave.’

‘What? That cluttered little flat?’ There was an edge of disdain in his voice. ‘Hardly a suitable place for a child of mine to live in. There are security issues, for a start, and also I am not in Melbourne frequently. Not only would it be safer if you and the baby were in one of my residences, it would also make visiting more efficient.’

Now it was her temper starting to rise. ‘I’m not giving up my job to—’

‘I will find you another job. It cannot be that hard to find something else to do.’ There was an unyielding note in his voice, his gaze steel that felt as if it were running straight through her.

‘But... I don’t know you,’ she burst out. ‘Why on earth would I want to live with you when you’re a complete and utter stranger to me?’

‘That can be remedied.’ He shoved back his chair and got to his feet in a sudden explosion of movement, stalking with animalistic grace around the side of his desk like some great hunting cat.

Stalking to her.

She half rose too, her heart beating out of control, but by then he was standing in front of her, leaning over her, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair. He stared down into her face, his expression so hungry and fierce she almost went up in flames there and then.

‘Tell me you don’t want me,’ he demanded, low and rough. ‘Tell me that sex with me isn’t all you’re thinking about right now.’

Her mouth had dried. All she could think about was how warm his body was, how good he smelled. How she wanted to kiss him, rip off his suit, be naked with him. Have his hot skin sliding over hers. Have his mouth on her... God, everything.

‘I... I’m not.’ Her voice was a mere scrape of sound.

He lowered his head until his mouth was millimetres from hers. ‘Liar,’ he murmured. ‘You’re thinking about it right now. You’re thinking about that night we had together and what happened in the elevator just before. You want it again. You want more. You want me.’

His lips were so close. All she’d have to do was lift her head and they would be against hers. She could taste him again. She could feel beautiful and wanted again.

He wasn’t wrong. She did want him.

‘You’re asking too much,’ she said huskily, trying to fight him and her own desire. ‘You’re asking me to change my entire life for you.’

‘Your life is going to change anyway, and so will mine.’ He bent a touch lower, his mouth even closer. ‘Spend tonight with me. Help me get rid of this chemistry. Then perhaps we can have a rational conversation.’

It was difficult to think with him so close and her body so hungry, but she tried. Spend the night with him... That didn’t sound bad. And he was right that they needed to get rid of their chemistry. How could they have a discussion about their child with that getting between them and distracting them? They’d both underestimated how strong it still was.

She tried to get some moisture into her dry mouth. ‘My flights... I have appointments...’

‘I will handle it.’ He brushed his mouth over hers in the lightest of kisses. ‘I will handle everything.’

Nell shivered. She had no doubt that he would, just as he’d handled it when she’d slipped and hurt her head. He’d got her to hospital, organised a doctor, made sure she was cared for... And after all, they really did need a clear-headed discussion about the baby. He’d said he’d be a father...

His hand moved from the arm of the chair to her coat, pulling aside the fabric, then his fingertips grazed over the curve of one breast, her hip, her thigh, before lifting again, brushing down the side of her neck to her throat, settling on the frantic beat of her pulse.

‘Say yes, Nell,’ he murmured. ‘The baby will be safe. You will be safe with me, I promise.’

It was strange to feel the tension slip away from her in that moment. She didn’t know him, yet she believed him. In the same way as she’d reached for his hand when she’d knocked herself out that night in Melbourne. As if her body had known who he was before her mind had. Known that he wasn’t a stranger to her, that she could be safe with him.

He meant what he said. So what would it hurt?

His palm was a tender weight at the base of her throat and she could feel every part of her come alive once again at his touch.

She lifted her head, brushing his mouth in a return kiss, but he pulled away, just out of reach. Her breath caught as she stared up at him, at the burning intensity of his gaze. ‘Say yes,’ he repeated softly. ‘If you say yes, you’ll get everything you want.’

His hand slid from her throat, slowly down over the curve of one breast, and cupped it gently, his thumb teasing her aching nipple through the fabric of her dress.

She trembled, arching into the warmth of his palm.

Everything she wanted...

Right now, all she could think of was him.

A long breath escaped her and she reached up, sliding her fingers in his thick black hair. It felt like raw silk against her skin. She gripped it, drawing his head down, making sure he couldn’t pull away.

‘Yes,’ she whispered against his mouth.

‘Tonight.’ It was a growl. ‘You’ll be mine tonight.’

‘Yes.’

Then his mouth was on hers and all words were lost.