Pregnant by the Commanding Greek Page 6

  She trembled with anticipation—her mouth drying as she watched him. He was very...well built, and so highly aroused the sight of him made other parts of her moisten. He knelt on the bed and looked at her. He was a hot, experienced, sexually demanding man and right now he was motionless again—thinking.

  The sexual suspense was almost killing her.

  ‘How do you want...?’ She trailed off. She had such little experience, she had no idea what to suggest.

  ‘You have a list in mind?’ he teased with a half-smile. ‘’Cos I do.’

  ‘You go first, then,’ she muttered in a low voice, blushing—and then blushing harder as she realised she blushed all over.

  ‘Oh, glykia mou,’ he chuckled. ‘This first time I’m watching every moment flicker over your beautiful face.’ He braced himself over her, running his hand down her side in a manner both soothing and stirring as he looked into her eyes. ‘I want to see everything, feel everything...’

  She felt a flash of vulnerability but he pressed closer and she could see him too—into those brown eyes that she knew had such depths. Right now, she saw desire and humour and the sharp bite of hunger.

  ‘Then do what you want,’ she whispered.

  He kissed her into softness and stirring heat again. She couldn’t believe this was happening. He overwhelmed her—his size, his heat, his musky scent.

  ‘Breathe,’ he muttered, gently probing her tightness. At the catch of her breath he hesitated and gave her a searching look.

  ‘It’s been a while,’ she mumbled, burning with both desire and insecurity.

  Another emotion flared in his eyes—hotter than ever. ‘I know.’

  He knew? How—because she was so desperate? Because she barely knew what she was doing?

  ‘Relax. Kiss me.’

  He lifted her, nudging her legs further apart so she could take him more easily. Then in one smooth movement he kissed her and thrust deep at the same time. She cried out with the shocking pleasure of it and clutched his hips to keep him there.

  ‘Okay?’ he growled.

  ‘Mmm-hmm.’ She was almost delirious with the delight of it—he felt so heavy, she so full.

  And it didn’t just feel good, it also felt right. For the first time she actually understood why people liked this so much. He muttered something she didn’t understand and crushed her closer.

  And this was what she’d wanted most of all—him with her as completely as anyone could be. He moved, watching her, kissing her, riding her swiftly to that point beyond thought. It was unbearably awesome. She gave herself up to complete hedonism, not caring about anything but the demands of her body—driving her hips in the way instinct dictated she must. His breathing roughened, the glitter in his eyes sharpened.

  ‘Ettie.’ He huffed her name harshly and pumped harder.

  She curled about him more tightly still, screaming as she came harder and longer than she could bear. She heard his roar of need and felt the sudden, full force of his lust unleashed. He slammed into her. Again, then again and again until they collided, interlocked, shaking together for a sublime moment of eternity, lost in that realm of total ecstasy.

  She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe.

  ‘We’re doing that again,’ he muttered rawly. ‘Now.’

  * * *

  The dog was gone. Rubbing his sleep-fuzzed head, Leon glanced at the empty basket with a frown. Ettie must have woken early and taken him for a walk. Leon wished she’d woken him—he’d have gone with her. Or better still, delayed her a little longer. His body was hard and ready—despite the aches from the full-on, all-night best sex of his life. His curiosity was fully aroused too. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to know more about a woman.

  He paced the penthouse, running his hand through his hair again, aching for her return. One night wasn’t going to be enough. He’d guessed they’d be good together, but he’d not imagined quite how hot. He grimaced wryly at the condom wrappers littering the bedroom floor. They’d barely bothered with sleep. After that first intense experience, he’d lifted her into the shower and taken his time to soap her up—easing away the last of her shyness and exposing the sly humour he’d seen fleeting snatches of. He’d held off letting her get off until she whispered something she wanted him to do and learned she knew a few curse words too. Hell, in that moment he’d have done anything she asked. She was generous and sweet and funny and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her everywhere until she came all over again.

  Half an hour passed and still she didn’t return. A prickle of foreboding slid down his spine. Why hadn’t she come back? The full quota of staff would be on shift by now and she hadn’t wanted to be seen by any of them.

  He stilled, irritated. Was he actually worried about her? And the damn dog?

  Disliking the uncertainty, he showered and dressed, but once downstairs he stopped some distance from the concierge desk. Ettie was in her uniform—filling out that crisp monogrammed T-shirt and parading the prim black trousers that on her embodied sexiness. She hadn’t seen him; she was too busy pacifying a puce-faced resident.

  ‘I’m so sorry that happened.’ She sent the resident her most charming smile. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll straighten it out with George—he doesn’t need to know most of it.’ She picked up the box on the desk. ‘How about we get Joel to come up and help you lift the dresser back into place?’

  It was Saturday. Was she supposed to be working? Even if she was, why hadn’t she bothered to wake him and say goodbye? Anger burned beneath his skin, but he turned to leave, fishing out his phone as it pinged with a message.

  At the sound of an almighty clatter he glanced back. She’d dropped whatever it was in that box. Now she was flushed in the face and completely avoiding looking in his direction. Which meant she’d seen him. Her obvious discomfort eased the chill in his bones. So she felt awkward? Good. So she should.

  She’d sneaked out early this morning and was now attempting to act as if nothing had happened. While he could respect her need to keep her private life private, he wasn’t going to ignore her. And where was Toby? He almost missed the sleepy thing.

  Ettie wasn’t butter-fingered. Ever. Yet she’d just dropped an entire box of old cutlery, creating the loudest crash ever heard in the lobby. And Leon Kariakis was here to witness it. Of course he was.

  Perspiration slicked over her skin. She couldn’t look at him, but she could still see him from the corner of her eye and apparently he was busy scrolling through some vitally important message on his phone. At least he wasn’t laughing at her openly.

  She’d woken up stupidly early this morning and got hit right in the head with the reality hammer. He was fast asleep beside her—a vision of hot, sleepy sex-god—and she instantly realised how completely out of her depth she was. The one and only other time she’d woken next to a man, it had turned into one of the worst days of her life. Her ex had rejected her in the most humiliating, personal of ways the morning after. And then he’d done it all over again in public. The last thing she needed was to hear even any of that horror again from Leon.

  She’d lain there frozen, becoming more and more terrified of the moment when he’d wake and see her in the cold light of day and realise his mistake. Sleeping with the sexually clueless concierge girl?

  Her blood had iced at the prospect of the inevitably awkward—or worse—goodbye that would ensue. She couldn’t bear to have any discussion or polite platitudes.

  In the end she hadn’t been able to stand the anxious torture. She’d slipped from the bed, wriggled into her dress and run—taking Toby with her before he barked his need to go outside. She’d been terrified of bumping into someone she knew in the lift. Of course, it stopped before the basement, ending her chance to escape to the staff locker room unseen. Jess had entered with her trolley. She’d stared at Toby and then at her.

  ‘You should we
ar your hair loose more often.’ Jess had smiled brightly after a horribly silent moment. ‘It looks lovely. I didn’t realise how long it had got.’

  That was because Ettie couldn’t afford to get it cut. And Jess had been lying—it didn’t look lovely, it hadn’t even been its usual wavy mess, but totally tangled, mussed-up bed-hair. That model had been seen exiting Leon’s apartment only the other day in that supposed lift-ride of shame...and now she was doing the same? She pushed away the public humiliation. It wasn’t worse than the horror she’d escaped years ago.

  But she just couldn’t face Leon. Her skin almost blistered with embarrassment at the thought of awkwardly extricating herself from his apartment. Because the last thing she could remember from the night before was his throaty laughter as he’d taken her apart again at some insane hour of the morning and now she couldn’t work out if he’d been laughing with her or at her. She’d been his light relief for the night. And hardly his toughest challenge...in fact she’d been so easy she’d almost come in the taxi.

  He wouldn’t want a repeat. He’d probably been feigning sleep and just hoping she’d leave quietly, right?

  But with every step she took, the tenderness between her thighs reminded her of his skilful passion, as did the sensitivity of her skin at her collar from the gentle grazes from his evening shadow...

  One night only.

  And she was not letting anyone know. Ever.

  And she was not going to be able to look him in the eye again either. Ever.

  Naturally, it was at that exact moment that he walked up to her desk.

  ‘Where’s Toby?’ he asked briskly.

  She fiddled with the box of cutlery the earlier resident had wanted her to return to the shop he’d purchased it from and just knew the man was not smiling.

  ‘Harold’s neighbour was away yesterday and only learned about what happened this morning. She’s asked to take Toby. She cares for him very much.’

  ‘That makes sense.’ His reply was clipped.

  ‘Actually, a number of the residents offered to take Toby when they heard what had happened,’ she said meaningfully. ‘I think a lot would like the “no pets” rule to be lifted.’

  She glanced up then and saw winter had returned to his deep brown eyes. There was no hint of the intimacies they’d shared in his expression. There was nothing at all but cool control.

  ‘Why are you on duty? It’s Saturday. Haven’t you been working all week?’ He fired the questions like bullets.

  So that was a no to pets, then. And a no to any kind of smile.

  ‘One of the others called in sick and, as I was here early to check on Toby...’ She glanced at Joel, working near by, concerned he could hear them.

  ‘Of course.’ Leon nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It really is the best thing, I think,’ she babbled anxiously because he had such a remote expression in his eyes and she felt him distancing himself even as he stood there. ‘He’ll be well cared for. She knows him and...’ She licked her lips, dying of mortification, and tried to smile. ‘I’ll have his things cleared from your apartment shortly.’

  He shot her an ice-cool look. ‘You’ll send one of the porters?’

  ‘Of course.’ Nervously she nodded. Because he didn’t want her back up there?

  Of course he didn’t. Could the earth just open up and swallow her whole? Now? She’d made the right decision to run.

  The second Leon left, Ettie leaned against the desk and breathed out, appallingly weak at the knees. That was it. There’d been no real goodbye. Nor was there any glow of amusement in his eyes—no sense of shared intimacy. If anything she had the odd feeling she’d somehow let him down. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? He’d had what he wanted. So had she. And now there was no need to have to talk about it or anything mortifying like that. They could just pretend it had never happened.

  It was over.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘WHERE’S ETTIE?’ THE beautifully clad woman demanded an answer from the youngest concierge. Joel—according to his monogrammed shirt.

  Leon paused at a distance, unable to resist listening in for the answer.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ms Welby, Ettie is away sick.’ Joel offered an apologetic smile.

  The woman laughed. ‘Ettie is never sick. Just as Ettie never takes holidays. Ettie is simply always here. That’s her job.’

  ‘Well, she’s not here now,’ Joel said firmly.

  No, she wasn’t. She hadn’t been at the desk for the last two days. Leon had noticed. He’d more than noticed; he’d missed her—missed seeing her smile and hearing her lovely chat with the residents.

  He’d tried to avoid the concierge desk as much as possible initially. Unfortunately, he’d soon discovered that it was the heart of the operation. He’d pushed back—spending long hours at his office headquarters, taking more meetings. But he’d always glanced over when he’d walked in. And as the weeks passed, he’d walked through the lobby a little more often than was really required. But she still didn’t look at him.

  And now, even though it had been over three weeks, even though he knew all he needed to, he couldn’t bring himself to move out of the penthouse and go home. Ettie still irritated him—rather, the way he kept thinking about her still irritated him—and that was a problem, given what he’d discovered about the way Cavendish House was run.

  Awareness of her absence—two days running—sharpened his curiosity. And a chill of warning slithered down his spine because he saw the protectiveness in Joel’s eyes as he referred to Ettie being ill. The young guy was concerned about his colleague. So what was wrong with her exactly, if Ettie was never ill?

  ‘May I help instead?’ Joel asked the resident awkwardly. ‘Ettie’s been schooling me in sorting dry-cleaning, you know.’

  But the woman dropped her bundle of clothing on the desk and leaned towards Joel. ‘Is Ettie actually okay?’

  She’d gone from demanding customer to concerned busybody in a flash. That the woman genuinely was concerned for Ettie underlined everything Leon had learned: that everyone adored Ettie and relied on her completely.

  ‘She should be back tomorrow.’ Joel’s smile wasn’t reassuring enough. ‘Let me take this for you in the meantime.’

  The woman scooped up the dresses with a laugh. ‘Thanks, but I don’t trust anyone except Ettie. I’ll wait for her to return.’

  ‘If you’re sure, madam.’

  ‘You know I am.’ She turned and caught sight of Leon watching her and her expression lit up with a huge smile. ‘Oh, Mr Kariakis, it’s lovely to finally meet you. My name’s Autumn; I’m in apartment twenty-three.’

  Leon nodded. ‘Is everything okay for you, Autumn?’

  ‘Well, apparently Ettie is away sick, which is hopeless, because she runs this place, Mr Kariakis; I hope you’re aware of that.’

  He nodded. He’d rapidly become aware of the fact, as it happened. In every conversation he had with either resident or management, it was Ettie to whom they referred for fixing problems. Which was why the fact that he’d taken her to bed was more of a problem than he’d expected it would be. That and the fact that he still couldn’t get her out of his head. ‘I’m glad you appreciate the service the Cavendish offers.’

  ‘I appreciate Ettie,’ she said firmly. ‘Ettie is simply the best.’

  Yes, she was. He never should have slept with her.

  ‘How long has she been away?’ Leon asked Joel as idly as he could after Autumn had headed towards the lift.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be back tomorrow,’ Joel said with a valiant defence. ‘Ettie’s never sick.’

  That didn’t answer his question, but Leon let it slide. He’d give her until tomorrow to return; if she didn’t, then he was going to have to investigate.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had only been one night and he’d had many
one nights with many women, so why was he stuck thinking about her?

  Was it simply because she now seemed to be missing? Why wasn’t she at work? He disliked unanswered questions. Just as he disliked messy endings and tearful women. They were why he stuck to one night.

  Ettie was the first woman who’d left him. No tears, no mess, no reference to it at all, in fact. If it hadn’t been for the sweet scent of her lingering in the air, he might have imagined the whole thing. Except he dreamed of it every night too.

  Not turning up to work wasn’t something she often did. Nor were one-night stands. When he’d approached her in front of her colleagues that next day she’d been dying of mortification; he’d just been too annoyed to pay attention to it properly at the time. She was shy. Inexperienced. Sweet. And he was a fool for having lost his head and seducing her. Especially now it had become clear she was the main asset of this entire enterprise and he needed her to take more of a leading role.

  A horrible thought hit him: was he the reason she was away now? Was she so embarrassed by what had happened she was off hunting for another job? Or had he hurt her in some way and not realised—was that why she’d run off so early that next morning? And how was it possible he felt the loss of that damn dog when he’d had custody over it for less than twenty-four hours?

  A sharp memory impinged on his mind. A memory he’d blocked for years—of a tiny puppy he’d adored more than anything else in his life. Only it had been snatched away from him just as everything important had then. He’d been betrayed again by the most important person in his life. He swiftly, curtly reminded himself that pets, like people, were not permanent. The loss of them hurt. Which was why he kept them at a distance.

  Emotions—all emotions—were a weakness. He’d learned that lesson long ago and he’d remember it well now. Never admit to them, never show them.

  It was barely eight in the morning when he went down to the concierge desk the next day. He’d hardly slept. He wasn’t going to rest properly until he knew. That fact irritated him. He didn’t allow other people’s problems to affect him. He didn’t let his own problems affect him. He just fixed them.