Page 44 of Pregnant and Stolen by the Tycoon

And that was the other thing.

Where was her feminine outrage? And why was she referring to their child ashis babynow, when she’d been spitting nails on the plane when he’d done the same?

She hated to admit it, but he’d been clever in slowly drawing her into the plans he had for using her algorithm for Cardosia. When he’d shown her the scale of devastation the mining and agricultural plundering was causing, she’d been shocked. Then she’d got to work.

Her algorithm had predicted and devised shortened steps to reclaiming the land, much to the delight of Cardosia’s scientists.

Even more impressive was discovering that he’d been secretly buying the desecrated land and handing it over to a nature trust after guaranteeing it would be ecologically maintained. But there were still astonishingly large areas where urgent help was needed.

Finding out during the course of her work that the man responsible for the shocking state of the Cardosian economy was Seve’s uncle, Lorenzo Valente, had brought her up short. And when she’d mentioned his name at dinner and received a frosty response from Seve, she’d known to leave the matter alone.

Seve and the team he’d gathered to implement his plans were in a race against time. She was better off concentrating her energies on her contribution to his essential project.

And if she liked it a little bit too much when he praised her for the work her algorithm had achieved, it was a reaction she wisely kept to herself.

What was occupying more and more space in her mind was the trouble she was having analysing why he’dstoppedasking her to marry him.

For the first month, he’d steadily demanded she give him her decision. Aided and abetted by an eager Lita, who freely expressed that she would love nothing more than for them to wed.

And then he’d stopped. Cold turkey.

Which, of course, had triggered her agitation.

Did he not want to marry her any longer?

The heated eyes that followed her around and the drift of his fingers over her arm, her back of her neck, and, oh, God, her growing belly, said otherwise.

The worst of it was when he travelled to San Martina, the capital city of Cardosia, or even overseas for a few days. It was illogical to torture herself with thoughts of who he was seeing, whether it was of the female persuasion. They owed each other no fidelity after all.

And yet...she missed him with a fervour bordering on insanity.

And when he stalked into her tech studio in search of her on his return and his gaze ran feverishly over her as his chest rose and fell in a deep exhale, her heart leapt, even as she convinced herself it was normal. That there was a rational explanation for it.

They shared a child.

It was one such time that he lingered on his return, sprawling his six-foot-three-inch frame on the long sofa he’d insisted was placed in the basement studio so she could take breaks.

Once he’d conducted that thorough scrutiny that involved running his eyes all over her body, then lingering on her belly, he looked around her work space.

‘I have countless rooms in this house and on the estate you can use. Or I can have one built to purpose for you. Why do you choose to hide in the basement?’

She started to shrug but the eyes boring into hers stopped her. Over the past four months, she’d discovered they shared an interest in many facets of their lives. More than she would’ve thought possible. She’d seen first-hand how much he cared for his country and the environment.

Equally significantly, they were sharing the most important event possibly of their lives.

Certainly of hers.

And while his first barb about her previous basement-dwelling had stung, he’d done it out of ignorance. No one on earth knew what that previous space had meant to her because she’d never shared it.

So enlighten him. So he’ll think better of me?

She swallowed theyesthat rose far too readily to her throat.

Those instances were arriving far too frequently. She’d need to watch that or—

‘The longer you take to answer my question, the more intrigued I become.’ His languid repose was deceptive. Yet she was drawn to it like prey to a majestic jungle cat. The misleading conviction that she could sidle up and stroke him was all too real and, no matter how much her logical brain tried to warn her that she was straying into dangerous territory, she still couldn’t resist the intoxicating danger of baring herself to him. Of basking in that magnificent aura he exuded so effortlessly.

But this feeling—so intense, so raw—was out of her comfort zone. God, everything about Seve Valente had been way out of her sphere of comfort from the moment they met.

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