Page 5 of The Maid's Pregnancy Bombshell

Her newly guilty mood at having humiliated herself was not improved by walking through that archway to find another two men already seated at the polished table. Both of them studied her as though an alien creature had joined them without warning. Doubtless they had heard every accusing word she had flung at Ares.

Ares disconcerted her even more by stepping past her to politely tug out a chair for her and she sank into it like a stone dropped from a height. ‘We’ll have some supper after this,’ he murmured smoothly as if the previous five minutes hadn’t happened.

Her ears almost shot out in incredulity at that announcement.Supper?She thought of the excuse of working again and shelved it because hewasthe boss and how had she forgotten that for even five minutes? Was she totally stupid around Ares Sarris? The NDA agreement was explained to her at great and very boring length. Ares sat across the table from her, probably afraid of her accusing him of intimidation again if he even sat beside her, she reflected with an inner wince of shame.

In any case, Ares was still showcased in her mind by the first glimpse she had caught of him as she’d walked through the door: her warrior angel, lean, strong face gorgeous but cool and composed as ice, not even a twitch of a smile anywhere near his wide mobile mouth. She hadn’t seen the tiniest hint of welcome or friendliness in that image and maybe she had reacted accordingly because wasn’t she entitled to expect him to have been a little less frozen after their frank discussion in Italy? Or was it simply the truth that that reckless and spontaneous dialogue by the lake had merely increased his frozen aspect by a factor of ten?

Afterwards, she had barely been able to believe the foolish things she had said to him. What an idiot she had been to corner so sophisticated and wealthy a man with her stupid irresponsible idea! Of course, he had said no! She had probably struck him as being not just a little off the wall but a touch unhinged.

Alana scanned through the document as fast as she could without her reading spectacles while one of the lawyers present offered to take her into the other room to discuss anything she didn’t understand. ‘That’s unnecessary,’ she parried, thinking that it took an awful lot of words to warn her that she was never to talk about Ares, write about him or his business or make use of any photographs of him.

As Alana rose upright, Ares stood up as well. ‘Let’s relax now...’

Alana shot him a look of visible wonderment at that suggestion and Ares almost physically etched a one-up symbol in the air between them. He was relieved, in fact, that she had shown him that she was not fault free. A quick temper and a habit of expecting the worst from people were bearable flaws, although it was not as though he would be spending much time with her, he reminded himself, frowning at the random weird thoughts that infiltrated his very orderly brain in her vicinity.

‘Take a seat,’ he invited as the legal team filtered out of the suite.

Alana settled down into the sort of sofa that almost swallowed her alive because it was soft and comfortable. The lights dimmed a little and the fire crackled in the grate. ‘Isn’t this cosy?’ she muttered uncomfortably.

‘Is that sarcasm?’

‘No. I was just thinking that this is much better than vacuuming. But I don’t blame you for being wary,’ Alana acknowledged, finally looking up to focus on him where he sat opposite. ‘I kind of lost the plot earlier. I wasn’t expecting to see you ever again. I thought you’d send the NDA in the post...or something.’

‘You’ve seen me at this hotel before, haven’t you?’ Ares prompted.

Alana nodded. ‘I delivered your coffee one night when you were working late. I’m not expecting you to remember me. Guests don’t really look at staff in uniform or remember faces.’

Ares said nothing. He didn’t remember her. But he imagined a certain type of male would notice her even with her hair hidden. Her shapely legs, her slender yet curvy figure, the vivacity of her green eyes, the flawless skin. The sleazy ones would notice her, he reckoned. ‘It’s rather an old-fashioned uniform,’ he remarked.

‘Suits the antique style of the hotel and at least they didn’t model it on a French maid’s outfit.’ She laughed as a knock sounded on the door.

Without any prompting, Alana jumped up and went to answer it. Tom, one of the young waiters, wheeled in a trolley and grinned at her.

‘Sit down, Alana,’ Ares instructed.

Talk about the habit of command, Alana thought ruefully, wondering why he would insist on having supper with her. Just to be friendly because of the Enzo connection? Or was there something else? It occurred to her that Ares was as naturally friendly as barbed wire.

‘I would still prefer to settle that debt for you,’ Ares informed her loftily. ‘You have signed the NDA. You could have made a lot of money selling the story of my intended fake marriage to some tabloid newspaper and I am very grateful that you didn’t.’

‘Because I’m poor and in debt, I can’t be expected to behave decently?’ Alana quipped. ‘I still have standards, Ares.’

‘You’ve had time to think now. Will you...?’

Alana jumped upright with a bright and determined smile. ‘Coffee or tea?’ she asked, stationed by the trolley.

‘Coffee...but—’

‘I don’t want you offering me money again when I didn’t do anything for you. I did what Ishouldhave done,’ she pointed out. ‘Don’t embarrass me.’

Unfamiliar with interruption and anyone guessing his intentions before he even expressed them, Ares released his breath in a hiss. ‘You frustrate me. You are very stubborn. At least tell me what this mysterious debt is.’

Alana breathed in deep and reckoned that there was no harm in clarifying the situation on that score. ‘My stepfather was a gambler. Backroom illegal card games, as far as I was able to work out. When he got into trouble with money, he came to me for help,’ Alana explained. ‘He was deeply ashamed of the gambling, and he couldn’t bring himself to confess to my mother or my older sister. I think he was terrified that Mum would leave him over it...he loved herthatmuch—’

‘But not as much as he loved gambling,’ Ares interposed cynically. ‘If he’d loved her as much as you think he did, he would have got professional help with his addiction and come clean.’

‘In an ideal world,’ Alana agreed. ‘But he was a weak man, Ares. I’m strong, and my mother was and my sister is, but hewasn’t. It’s a shame because our stepfather was a kind and loving man. In every other field, he was pretty perfect as a dad.’

While she talked, Alana acted like a maid serving him, offering him snacks from the containers on the trolley, furnishing him with a napkin and a plate, pouring his coffee exactly as he liked. And it thoroughly irritated Ares. He didn’t like her waiting on him in that demeaning way. He didn’t like seeing her in a maid’s uniform either. He supposed it was because he felt sorry for her, an unbusinesslike, impractical sensation that was incredibly new to him, but then nobody had ever told him that he should have no feelings whatsoever. Even though he usually did not have.

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