rushed into the conservatory as the door opened, and her heart gave a jolt when Giannis strode in wearing a towelling robe.
‘You said you would be working all afternoon,’ she muttered, feeling heat spread over her face as he stared at her ridiculously small bikini that revealed much more of her body than she was comfortable with. She was tempted to run across to the lounger where she had left her towel, but she couldn’t risk slipping on the wet tiles.
‘I was bored of working and decided to come and swim with you.’ He shrugged off his robe and Ava roamed her gaze hungrily over his muscular chest covered in black hairs that arrowed down his taut abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his swim-shorts.
‘Well, I’ve got out of the pool now.’ Her flush deepened when she realised the inanity of her statement.
‘I can see that,’ he mocked her softly. But as he walked towards her his smile faded and his dark eyes glittered with a feral hunger that confused her.
‘Stop staring at me.’ She tried to cover the gentle swell of her stomach with her hands but could do nothing to disguise the fact that her breasts were almost spilling out of her bikini top. She felt exposed, knowing she looked fat, and sure that Giannis must be comparing her to all the gorgeous women who had shared his bed in the past.
He halted in front of her and she noticed a nerve jump in his cheek. ‘How can I take my eyes from you when you take my breath away?’ he said thickly.
Ava bit her lip. ‘I was slim the last time you saw me in a bikini.’ She had nearly said naked, but memories of when they had lain together, skin on skin, their limbs entwined and their bodies joined would only add fuel to the fire burning inside her.
‘You look incredible.’ Dark colour winged along his cheekbones. ‘Can you feel the baby move?’
‘I’ve felt flutters rather than kicks at this stage but the midwife said that the baby’s movements will become stronger as he grows bigger.’
Giannis was focused on her bump. ‘May I touch you?’
She gave a hesitant nod. It was his baby too, and she could not deny him the chance to be involved in her pregnancy. But when he placed his hand on her stomach and stretched his fingers wide over its swell she trembled and hoped he had no idea of the molten heat that pooled between her thighs.
‘There, did you feel that?’ She caught hold of his hand and moved it slightly lower on her stomach just as a fluttering sensation inside her happened again.
He drew an audible breath. ‘Theos,’ he said in an oddly gruff voice. ‘Between us we have created a miracle, glykiá mou.’
Standing this close to him was creating havoc with her emotions. She needed to move away from him and break the spell that he always cast on her. But it was too late, and she watched helplessly as his dark head descended.
‘Giannis,’ she whispered, but it was a plea rather than a protest and the fierce gleam in his eyes told her that he knew it. His breath warmed her lips before he covered her mouth with his and kissed her the way she had longed for him to kiss her, the way she had dreamed about him kissing her every night since she had left Greece.
She couldn’t resist him. It did not even occur to her to try. He was the father of her unborn child, the man she was going to marry, and she wanted him to make love to her. Even the knowledge that love played no part in their relationship did not matter at that moment, as desire swept like wildfire through her veins. She had been starved of him and she pressed her body up against his, closing her eyes as she sank into the sensual pleasure of his kiss.
His hand was still resting on her stomach, and she held her breath when he moved lower and ran his fingers over the strip of bare skin above the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She willed him to slip his fingers beneath the stretchy material and touch her where she ached to be touched. She wanted him to push his fingers inside her, and incredibly she felt the first ripples of an orgasm start to build deep in her pelvis before he had even caressed her intimately.
Tension of a different kind ran through her as she faced up to where this was leading. How could she give herself to Giannis when she had doubts about him? In many ways, it had been easier to have sex with him while she had pretended to be his fiancée because she’d assumed that their relationship would end at the same time as their fake engagement. But now she was going to be Giannis’s wife—if not for ever then certainly until their child was old enough to be able to cope with them separating. If she made love with Giannis she would reveal her vulnerability that she was desperate to hide from him.
But then suddenly it was over as he wrenched his mouth from hers. She swayed on her feet when he abruptly snatched his arm from around her waist. He swore as he swung away from her and dived into the water.
Ava watched him swim to the far end of the pool and wondered if he had somehow been aware of her doubts. A more likely explanation for his rejection was that he found her pregnant shape a turn-off. Giannis had been attentive because she was carrying his child, but he’d made it clear that he did not want her.
At least she knew where she stood with him, Ava told herself as she dragged her towel around her unsatisfied body to hide the shaming hard peaks of her nipples. He was marrying her to claim his baby. And she had agreed to be his wife because she feared that he would seek custody of their son—not immediately perhaps, but she couldn’t bear to live with the threat hanging over her.
* * *
Why the hell had he come on to Ava like a clumsy adolescent on a first date? Giannis asked himself furiously as he powered through the water. He heard the conservatory door bang, signalling her departure, but he kept on swimming lap after lap, punishing himself for his loss of control.
Since he had seen the grainy scan images of his child he’d felt as if he were on an emotional rollercoaster. Ava’s pregnancy had seemed unreal until the moment the sonographer had pointed out on the screen the baby’s tiny heart beating strongly. In that instant he’d realised that nothing—not money or possessions or power—were important compared to his son.
Back at the house he’d paced restlessly around his study, unable to concentrate on a financial report he was supposed to be reading. Work had always been his favourite mistress, the area of his life where he knew he excelled, but—just as when he had taken Ava to Spetses—he had wanted to be with her instead of sitting at his desk.
Walking into the pool house and seeing her in a tiny bikini had blown him away. Pregnancy had turned her into a goddess and he had been transfixed by her generous curves—her breasts like ripe peaches and the lush swell of her belly where his child lay. He’d wanted to touch her and feel a connection with his baby, and when he’d felt the faint movements of a fragile new life a sense of awed wonder had brought a lump to his throat. Something utterly primal had stirred in his chest. His child. His woman. He would die to protect both of them, he acknowledged.
Had he kissed Ava to stake his claim? With savage self-derision he admitted that he’d felt a basic need to pull her down onto a lounger and possess her in the most fundamental way. Desire had drummed an insistent beat in his blood and in his loins. He had forgotten that she did not trust him—although he should not be surprised by her wariness after he had threatened to take her child, he thought grimly.
He had kissed her for the simple reason that he could not resist her, but when he’d felt her stiffen in rejection he knew he had no one to blame but himself. When he’d persuaded her—or pressurised her, his conscience pricked—to marry him, he had promised himself that he would be patient and wait for her to come to him. Instead he’d behaved like a jerk, and in truth he was shocked that she had got under his skin to the degree that she dominated his thoughts and disturbed his dreams.
It would not happen again, Giannis vowed as he climbed out of the pool. He would control his desire for Ava because too much was at stake. He had discovered that he wanted more from her than sex. He wanted everything—her soft smile and infectious laughter, her cool, incisive intelligence and her fiery passion. And he wanted his child. Even if he failed to win all that