Page 10 of The Maid's Pregnancy Bombshell

‘We’re not doing this,’ he breathed hoarsely, a faint dark edge of colour scoring his cheekbones. ‘Not you and me together. Thatcan’thappen...do you understand?’

Shell-shocked by the speed at which that moment of closeness had been severed, Alana nodded numbly. No, she didn’t understand, she didn’t understand at all, only that Ares looked tense, angry, and unhappy and she didn’t like that either. It made her feel guilty, like some fatal temptress who had somehow lured a man into doing what he did not want to do.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said automatically.

‘You didn’t do anything. It wasallme,’ Ares asserted, his wide sensual mouth now taut with disapproval. ‘I took advantage. You don’t let me do that ever again. You sayno.’

‘I say no,’ Alana repeated obediently, keen to say anything that would bring the mortifying lecture to an end. ‘Got it.’

Ares watched her back away from him as if she were retreating from the lion’s den and he expelled a shuddering breath. She was flushed and tossed, her award-winning mouth swollen, her eyes wide and dark with distress and, for the first time in his life since he had become an adult, Ares felt seriously bad for something he had done. Way too young, way too innocent for him, he reminded himself fiercely.

‘I messed up your hair,’ Alana warned him belatedly. ‘You should tidy it.’

‘Try on the next outfit. That dress is a definite buy,’ Ares told her, prodding her back into role in the hope that while she was changing he would somehow magically work out why he had succumbed so easily to temptation.

‘Alana...?’ He spoke quietly before she could disappear from view.

She turned back, eyes evading his, no longer lit up like stars, he reminded himself crushingly. ‘Yes?’

‘Are you a virgin? I know it’s a very personal question, and I apologise for asking, but I really would like to know,’ Ares murmured in an undertone.

Alana froze and felt her face burn like a bonfire but, now that he had kissed her, she didn’t see why she shouldn’t answer. ‘Yes.’

As she vanished from view to change, Ares breathed in deep on that confirmation, assailed by a variety of very particular reactions. Virginity should be the equivalent of a suit of armour on his terms. It should mean that he would never touch her again, he assured himself resolutely. No honourable male would do anything less when there was no possibility of their relationship going anywhere.

Theos...how had he contrived todothis to himself? An own goal of outrageous efficiency? Saddle himself with the one woman he could barely keep his hands off? He should let her go; he knew he should, but he also knew that he couldn’t face doing that either. She was safer with him, he told himself, especially now that heknew. He would never take advantage of her again. He might be ruthless in business, but he would not be unscrupulous in his private life. It crossed his mind then that, until Alana had thrust herself into his company on that Italian lake front, he hadn’thada private life. Occasional, perfunctory, invariably forgettable sex didn’t count, and he had no family either.

‘It’s lovely here. I’ll be fine,’ Alana declared a couple of hours later as she surveyed the view of the Thames from the balcony, her back turned to him.

Ares had delivered her like a surplus parcel to a beautiful luxury apartment, fully furnished and with a kitchen already stocked with food. She didn’t mind being on her own, of course she didn’t.

‘What about Christmas?’ she asked him abruptly, half turning round. ‘It’s next week and I’m not staying here alone.’

‘I don’t do the festive season,’ Ares parried without any expression at all.

‘I’ll go home, then, for a couple of days, play the gooseberry for Enzo and Skye,’ Alana replied cheerfully, refusing to give way to disappointment. ‘I can’t miss seeing the children.’

Ares didn’t want her leaving London before the wedding. He didn’t want to spend any more time with her either, however, lest his once legendary discipline slip again. He forced back his distinct unease at the prospect of her being that far away from him as opposed to being just across the city and jerked his chin in acknowledgement without comment. It was the lesser of two evils, he told himself squarely.

Alana studied him. He revealed nothing. His classic bronzed features could have been carved from ice, his beautiful eyes veiled and narrowed. The kiss had definitely been a mistake. She felt vaguely as though she had a force field around her because he had kept his distance with such pronounced care since then.

‘Is there someone else in your life?’ she asked baldly, needing to know, refusing to back off to the extent that she didn’t dare even ask.

Ares expelled his breath in a slow measured hiss. ‘No. Butus—this is business and you know that.’

‘You’re the one who broke the contract,’ Alana reminded him with unhidden satisfaction. ‘If it’s business then let’s be sure that webothstick to business boundaries.’

Ares could not recall the last time anyone had confronted him with a mistake. Not only did he rarely make a mistake, but also most were sufficiently intimidated by him not to mention it if he did. Why the rock-solid detachment and gravity he wore like a defensive shield didn’t work on Alana Davison he could not comprehend.

‘Obviously,’ he agreed, refusing to rise to that bait that she had tossed out, hoping, he guessed, to involve him in an argument. He wasn’t that predictable, at least, herefusedto be that predictable. ‘I’ll text you the time and place of the ceremony. If there is anything more you require—relating to the contract—you can contact my lawyers or me but I’m very busy.’

Alana heaved a sigh. ‘I’m unlikely to contact you before the wedding. I need nothing and I have nothing to say.’

Ares allowed himself one last lingering look at her. She wore one of the new outfits, a short full skirt teamed with a dusky blue sweater and a leather jacket, complete with knee-high boots. He couldn’t even steal a fleeting glance at her without imagining himself pinning her to the nearest surface, be it horizontal or vertical, he wasn’t fussy. On the drive to the apartment the amount of erotic imagery that had engulfed his normally disciplined brain had appalled him. It felt horribly as though she were infiltrating him in some way and he detested it. He was walking in the other direction, doing what he knew he had to do to be logical, and only for a split second did he contemplate the reckless option of diving head first into trouble with her. He was too clever for that, he assured himself, too sensible...

Ten days later, Alana contemplated her reflection in the mirror. The dress was very pretty, very flattering. It was her wedding day and she had no nerves. Why would she have? It wasn’t a real wedding in the bridal sense. It was a fake, a pretence, nothing more. She had hardened her heart against Ares Sarris. He had closed her out, backed off, spelt out his indifference.Not even a text?Well, she would show him that nobody could be any more indifferent than she could be.

The kiss? She had lain awake a few nights recalling how she had felt and then she had shut that down fast. It had been a mistake. For him and for her, a blurring of the firm lines between them. But it tickled Alana pink thathehad broken their contract first. He wasn’t supposed to touch her in any sexual manner and he had smashed his own rule with raw enthusiasm. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr Sarris, she thought childishly, her head swimming a little.

---