Page 8 of Christmas Baby with Her Ultra-Rich Boss

She didn’t say a word, just stared at him with a look that reminded him strongly of a deer trapped in the glare of headlights.

He left the office as quickly as he’d entered it. His hand was on the door that connected to the reception when his feet brought him to a halt.

Something, some sixth sense, was thumping for attention in the back of his brain. The thumping extended to the rest of him.

Mouth suddenly dry, he turned slowly and strode with leaden feet back to the office.

He pushed the door open.

Lena’s arms were in the sleeves of her sweater and she was in the process of pulling it over her head. There was a frantic quality in her movements, and when she tugged it down over her protruding belly and spotted him standing there, she no longer looked like a trapped deer. She looked like aguiltytrapped deer.

For the longest passage of time her terrified eyes remained glued to his.

Blood pumped hard through him. Getting air into his lungs became impossible.

‘Lift your sweater,’ he commanded hoarsely.

Her face crumpled and she folded her arms protectively beneath her breasts and over her stomach.

He breathed deeply and lifted his chin. ‘Do not make me repeat myself again, Lena. Lift your sweater up.’

It was hearing Konstantinos say her name for the first time since he’d arrived back in Sweden that broke Lena. The iciness in his voice. Her nightmare was coming to life but in this one there was no way of waking herself before the worst happened.

The tears she’d been holding back all these months broke free and rolled down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she gripped the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her pregnant belly.

While he stared without blinking at her stomach, her baby moved inside her. She didn’t know if he saw the movement but the impassivity on his face changed and he staggered back and fell into the visitor chair, the colour leeching from his olive skin.

Hands gripping his knees, he bowed his head. His shoulders rose and fell in almost exaggerated movements before he slowly lifted his face back up to meet her eyes. ‘Is it mine?’

She tried to nod but her body was shaking too hard and all she could manage was a whispered, ‘Yes.’

His face contorted into a frightening mix of rage and comprehension and, fury etched in his every sinew, he shot back to his feet. ‘You lying, deceitful, poisonous—’

Only by the skin of his teeth did Konstantinos stop himself from uttering the cruel curse he wanted to throw at her. White-hot, rabid fury had infected every part of him, an anger so strong that he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office lest the poison consuming him erupted.

Uncaring that the snow had started to fall, he flung the emergency exit door open and stamped out onto the treated path at the rear of the reception lodge. On either side of the path snow was piled as high as his knees, and he scooped a load into his hands, packed it into as tight a ball as he could manage, and hurled it through the air with a roar. And then scooped more snow.

By the time he’d worked the worst of his fury out of him, he was soaked to the skin, his lungs were burning, and his hands frozen. Making a real effort to control his breathing and the rage still boiling in his veins, he went back inside.

Lena, her eyes red and her face blotchy from crying, was sitting on the visitor chair with a tissue clutched in her hand.

‘Get your snowsuit on and come with me,’ he snarled.

‘Come where?’ she croaked.

‘My cabin, where we can speak without being disturbed...’ A thought penetrated the fury in his brain. ‘I assume no one else has been given it yet?’

She shook her head.

He stuck his head out the door and tersely shouted, ‘Anya, keep my cabin reserved for me until further notice and call Sven in—he’s in charge until further notice, too.’ Then he looked again at the deceitful face of the woman who’d deliberately kept that she’d conceived his child a secret from him. ‘Snowsuit.’

Feeling as sick as she’d ever been in her life, Lena obeyed, scuttling out to the staff storeroom and hurriedly donning a snowsuit, hat, scarf, and boots.

‘Are you not going to change, too?’ she tentatively asked when she returned to the office.

‘What’s the point?’ he said bitterly. ‘I’m already halfway to frostbite.’

The look on his face told her not to bother arguing with him.

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