Page 12 of A Nine-Month Deal With Her Husband

He glanced at his limited edition Patek Philippe watch. ‘We still have some time before we need to leave. I don’t live that far away and it will only take me twenty minutes, even in this weather, to get home.’

‘Yes, but you have to drop me off first,’ Millie told him. When he didn’t say anything, she narrowed her eyes. Oh, no.No, no, no.

‘I’m not staying with you, Jónsson,’ she told him.

Uh-uh, no way.

‘Einar made some calls and he couldn’t get you a hotel room at such late notice. And it made no sense to keep calling when I have a perfectly good guest suite.’

A guest suite was fine for one night, but not if they were housebound because of the weather!

‘It’s a big house, Millie,’ Ben told her. ‘It has a gym and sauna and a library. We won’t be tripping over each other.’

‘We don’t know each other!’ Millie wailed. She didn’t want to spend a couple of days cooped up with a man to whom she was intensely attracted.

‘We’re married,’ Ben calmly pointed out.

Back then he was an adult and she’d been a young woman, looking to spread her wings and leave the city. They had been miles apart, mentally and socially. Twelve years later, the gap between them had narrowed substantially. He was hot and sexy and she hadn’t been this attracted to a man in years. If ever.

She’d wanted him to kiss her earlier. Had been about to lift on to her toes to meet his mouth when he’d pulled back. Disappointment and frustration rolled over her, hot and sour. Honestly, had she left her brain and self-control back in London? And how was she supposed to share a house with a man she desperately wanted to see naked? Nope, not happening. She needed a hotel room, a room in an Airbnb, a stable or a caravan. Anything.

‘I can’t—’

‘You’ll have to because there’s nowhere else for you to go,’ Ben crisply told her and she knew she’d lost the argument. She had to be sensible and take whatever accommodation was on offer. She was out of choices.

‘Let’s get back tohowyou plan on getting pregnant.’

Why was he hung up on that? Why was that an issue and why did it concern him? But she wasn’t ashamed of wanting a family, nor was she ashamed of her plan of how to fall pregnant. She wanted a family, she was so sick of being alone. ‘I’m going to choose a sperm donor and be artificially inseminated, Benedikt.’

He pulled a face and Millie threw up her hands. ‘Well, what other choice do I have? To go pub or club trawling at the right time of the month, find a guy I like the look of and have a one-night stand, crossing my fingers that he isn’t a psycho?’

‘That wouldn’t be wise,’ Benedikt stated.

‘Of course not,’ Millie retorted, unsure of why she was discussing this with him. They might be married, but theyweren’tfriends. ‘That’s why I’m going to choose what I hope will be a nice man from a website that gives me statistics about his medical history and IQ and looks and genes. And pray he’s a decent human being!’

Benedikt’s eyes clashed with hers and Millie wondered what he was thinking, trying to ignore whatshewas thinking: he would make the most delicious father himself. He was tall, athletic, smart as a whip and not a psycho. He was just a hardworking, driven billionaire currently married to her. There was no way he’d consider...

You’re being ridiculous, Millie! You’re asking for a divorce so that you can cut the strings with this man, and asking him to give you his biological matter would be like using a ship’s rope to bind you together.

She was just being fanciful, feeling a little disconcerted and off balance about being back in Reykjavik—the place held so many good and bad memories. Memories of her lovely mum and her awful dad...stepdad.

Meeting Benedikt again...

Flip, how she wished he’d grown plump and started to go bald, was in a relationship himself or was too busy to see her. If she’d managed to avoid him, then she wouldn’t be feeling all hot and bothered, tingly and weird. Yes, Benedikt made her feel shaky and off her game.

‘So, what’s the next step?’ she asked, placing her open palms on the glass behind her back.

‘I drive you back to my place and settle you into my guest suite.’

‘I meant with us getting a divorce, Benedikt. Shall we see a lawyer together, get our own? I’m not going to claim anything from you...’ She couldn’t—they’d signed a prenup and their individual assets were protected. Their divorce should be a quick and easy process.

Benedikt looked, surprisingly, a little disconcerted. He always seemed so together, so unshockable—he’d barely blinked at her offer of marriage—and she hadn’t thought he could be caught off guard. ‘Uh... I... I’m not sure. I need to look into it.’

He paused, hauled in some air and paused again. He was a confident and super-capable businessman, maybe he had a thing about picking and choosing the right words. ‘I can set up a meeting with my lawyer and he can advise us on how to go forward,’ he stated. ‘He’s also my cousin and closest friend. Olivier is one of the best lawyers in the country.’

Of course he was—a man in Benedikt’s position wouldn’t have anyone but the best. ‘Could we meet tomorrow?’ Millie asked. ‘I fly tomorrow afternoon.’ Then she remembered the storm. ‘Iwasflying tomorrow afternoon.’

‘I’ll contact Olivier now,’ he said. Benedikt picked up his phone and typed in a super-fast message.

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