The Billionaire's Pregnant Mistress Page 11
He came back and pulled her up and into his arms. “I am not unhappy, pethi mou. I am merely preoccupied with the details of the wedding now that you have agreed.”
It made sense and she had no fears while his arms were around her. She yawned. “All right.”
He turned her toward the bedroom and patted her bottom gently. “Take a nap. Pregnant ladies need their rest.”
She went, feeling comforted. He’d pointed her in the direction of his bedroom. It was only later, while she hung on the verge of sleep that she realized he had once again sidestepped the issue of his parents.
Dimitri gripped the phone tightly without dialing. What had he expected, that she would say she was marrying him because she wanted to? At least she had agreed. He should not bemoan the fact it had been for the child’s sake alone.
He would convince her to trust him again. He would show her that what they had had in Paris could be theirs again. The affection. The fun. The rapport. And once she saw that he would never dismiss her so cruelly again, she would once again glow in his presence.
At least he’d kept this promise to his grandfather.
“You are nervous, yineka mou. Why?”
Alexandra shifted the yards of fabric in her wedding dress’s skirt an inch to the left on the limousine’s seat. “There are going to be a lot people at the reception.”
Which was an understatement. Dimitri had managed to invite an obscene number of wedding guests, all of whom would be staying for the reception…including Dimitri’s brother, Spiros, and his wife Phoebe.
“You have modeled swimwear in front of a bigger crowd.”
True. But the crowd had never included Dimitri’s ex-fiancée and brother. “Does Spiros think I’m an awful tramp?”
Dimitri reeled as if she’d struck him and his eyes burned angry blue fire. “Why should you think this? Do you feel like this marriage has made you one?”
She wondered how Dimitri managed the Petronides Corporation so effectively with his lousy communication skills. “Of course I don’t feel like a tramp because I married you. It’s just that your brother’s read those awful articles. I’m sure he blames me for Phoebe’s humiliation.”
“My brother does not blame you.”
She waved Dimitri’s words aside. “Don’t be ridiculous. Who else would he blame? I was the other woman even if I didn’t know it. He had to marry Phoebe to save the family honor. I bet he hates me,” she wailed.
Dimitri pulled her onto his lap, yards of white satin and all. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “My brother does not blame you. He knows you were unaware of Phoebe’s existence. He knows where the real blame lies. With me.”
“But he’s your brother. He’s bound to forgive you.” Look how many times she forgave Mama. “He’s free to hate me.” Dimitri laughed. He actually laughed and she wanted to sock him. “It’s not funny. Your family’s got no choice but to think you’ve married some kind of opportunist, five months pregnant with your baby and they’ve never met me.”
“Spiros and my grandfather know this too is my fault. Do not worry, Alexandra. Spiros is content in his marriage and excited at the prospect of being an uncle. You made both things possible. He will adore you.”
She would have continued her lament, but the limousine slid to a smooth stop and seconds later the door opened. Dimitri lifted her in his arms.
She squealed. “You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, not to the reception!”
He laughed, a true Dimitri laugh that she hadn’t heard since before their breakup in Paris. “I can do both.”
She wasn’t about to spoil that smile, so she demurred. He carried her all the way to the hotel ballroom where the reception was being held. A loud cheer went up when they came into the room and the next hour was spent accepting well wishes from their wedding guests.
Alexandra rested in one of the many Queen Anne style armchairs set in small groupings around the perimeter of the ballroom. Space had been left in the center of the floor for dancing. She was looking forward to being in Dimitri’s arms.
“I guess he’s not such a swine after all.”
Alexandra smiled as her sister took the chair closest to her. “Hi, Maddy. Isn’t this fabulous?” she asked, waving her hand to encompass the reception and its elegant guests. She was feeling incredibly happy for a woman who had just entered a marriage of convenience. It was all Dimitri’s doing. “Can you believe the wedding?”
Madeleine grinned. “Believe it? I lived it. I was your matron of honor, after all. The horse drawn carriages were a very sweet touch. There were so many red and white poinsettias and that gorgeous Christmas greenery in the church, you couldn’t see the pews.”
“He did everything possible to make it special. He kept asking if there was anything else I wanted all week long, making sure my every fantasy of my wedding was fulfilled.”
“And why should it not be?” Dimitri asked from behind her. He came to her side and rested his hand on the skin of her shoulder bared by the dropped shoulder neckline of her wedding dress. “You will only marry once. It should be the wedding of your dreams.”
She tilted her head to smile up at him. “It has been.”
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “I am glad, yineka mou. That was my only wish.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d say he sounded like a man in love. Even if he wasn’t, he had to care about her a lot to have gone to so much trouble to see her happy.
“Making calf’s eyes at each other again?” A man who could have been Dimitri’s twin, but for his obvious younger age and dark brown eyes, slapped Dimitri on the back. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
Dimitri’s hand on her shoulder tightened briefly in a reassuring gesture as if he could sense her unease.
“I do not make calf’s eyes,” he informed his brother.
Spiros smiled mockingly. “If you say so.”
Phoebe, a beautiful woman with classic Greek features and an air of youthful innocence, laughed. “Do not tease your brother. A man is allowed to look pleased with his bride on his wedding day.”
Remembering the picture she’d seen of Spiros and Phoebe’s wedding day, Alexandra thought Phoebe must be intimately acquainted with the concept and said so.
Phoebe blushed sweetly while Spiros put his arm around her shoulder in a possessive manner. “This is true,” he said.
Alexandra smiled. At least her pregnancy hadn’t ruined their lives. They were obviously very happy to be married to each other. She couldn’t help wondering what the Petronides family had been thinking to match a girl of Phoebe’s gentle nature and obvious youth with an overwhelming man like Dimitri in the first place.
“It’s not just reserved for the wedding day, you know. I’m still making calf’s eyes at my wife,” Hunter said as he joined the group, taking the chair closest to Madeleine.
Madeleine’s air of complacent acceptance of such an accolade indicated whatever contretemps Alexandra’s problems had caused in their marriage was well and truly over.
Alexandra looked up at Dimitri. She was not at all convinced he’d been looking at her with anything near the adoring glance her brother-in-law bestowed upon her sister. However, she was willing to tease him regardless. “So I can look forward to years of bovine expressions of affection?”
He stiffened with affront just as she’d expected him to do. “I am not a cow.”
She smiled, feeling mischievous. “No indeed. If anything, you must be likened to a bull.” She rubbed her protruding middle and felt their son move. “I would say that he is proof positive you are a male capable of breeding.”
After a second of shocked silence, during which the entire group seemed to assimilate her rather risqué teasing, they all burst out laughing, including Dimitri. There were a few more teasing comments and Madeleine even went so far as to welcome Dimitri into the family which he thanked her for with grave appreciation rather than his usual arrogan
ce.
After which, he leaned toward Alexandra and asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“We haven’t danced yet.” And she wanted to.
He smiled indulgently. “And we must do this to fulfill tradition, hmm?”
She nodded, loving the look of indulgence in his eyes. It made her feel cosseted.
He reached out his hand and led her to the middle of the ballroom floor, empty but for a few guests who stood in small groups chatting. Their presence on the dance floor was the orchestra’s cue to move into a slow waltzing tune.
She and Dimitri took the traditional pose for a waltz, her train attached to her wrist making her feel like a nineteenth-century debutante at her comeout ball. Dimitri’s dancing was divine and Alexandra lost herself in the pleasure of his arms and their bodies’ movement to the music.
Other couples began to join them. Madeleine and Hunter. Phoebe and Spiros. Several guests she did not know by name.
She tilted her head to look into his eyes. “Thank you.”
“For dancing with you?” he asked, a smile flirting with the edges of his lips.
“For all of this. The wedding. Keeping Mama calmed down over the last week. Charming Madeleine so she didn’t think I was marrying an ogre. Buying the Dupree Mansion back for Mama. I guess I didn’t think you were totally serious and yet you accomplished the purchase in less than a week. I’m stunned.”
“I want you to be happy, pethi mou. I have told you this.”
“Are all Petronides men willing to sacrifice for their wife’s happiness?”
A shadow passed over his chiseled features, but was quickly gone. “All the Petronides males in my family, yes.”
“That gives me a great deal of hope for the future, mon cher.”
He stopped, stock-still in the middle of a turn.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, anxiously. Had she stepped on his foot without realizing it?
“Say it again.”
“What?” Then she knew. She hadn’t called him by an endearment since he found her at Madeleine’s. Even in the most passionate of their lovemaking, she had used only his name.
She could not deny him. He’d given her so much this week. She went up on tiptoes and still had to pull his head down so their lips could meet. “Mon cher,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him.
It was a kiss completely lacking in passion, a restoration of a bond that had been cruelly severed and left her bleeding. It had left its mark on Dimitri as well and now they saluted one another with a kiss of remembrance and renewal.
Three hours later, they were aboard Dimitri’s private jet. She had changed into a comfortable, but chic honey gold, oversized, crocheted sweater and almond-colored wool stretch pants. Relaxed on the small couch in the plain’s main cabin, she sipped on the glass of fruit juice Dimitri’s personal flight attendant had given her.
“We should be taking off in less than half an hour,” Dimitri informed her, walking into the main cabin from the cockpit after speaking to the pilot.
He had changed too and now wore tailored black slack trousers, a round-necked Armani sweater in gray over a black T-shirt. He lowered his long frame onto the sofa beside her, his outer thigh brushing her own sending the ever ready shivers down her limbs in anticipation of the next touch.
“How long will the flight to Athens take?” she asked, trying to tamp down the urge to slide her hands under his sweater and feel the well muscled contours of his chest.
He shrugged. “It depends. Perhaps eight hours.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to make the flight on a commercial airline. I don’t think I could take it.” So much sitting in one position would be painful to her back in her currently pregnant state.
His fingertips brushed her cheeks. “I would never expect you too.” His hand fell away. “I did not ask if you were okay with changing doctors so late in your pregnancy.”
“I can hardly have my New York doctor in Greece,” she replied with a smile.
“So Madeleine said.”
Her sister again. She bit back a grimace. “I’ll be fine.”
“I have arranged for you to be seen by an eminent obstetrician in Athens. He wants us to move to the Athens apartment for your last month.”
“You’ve already spoken to him?” Why did that surprise her? This was his heir they were talking about after all.
“He comes highly recommended.”
“I have no doubt,” she said with some bemusement. So much for having to find a new doctor and arrange appointments for her last trimester.
“If you do not like him, we will find someone else.”
Suddenly it struck her that Dimitri was worried about her reaction. She laid her hand over his. “I’ll be fine. Really. Have you already arranged for my records to be transferred?”
“I had them faxed three days ago.”
“Did I sign for that?” Between the marriage license, living Visa for Greece and other paperwork necessary for their wedding to take place, she didn’t know what she had signed.
“Yes.”
“Do you plan to be with me during delivery?”
“I would like this very much, but the final decision must be yours.”
That surprised her. First that he wanted to be there. Dimitri wasn’t exactly a New Man. And second that he would leave the choice to her. “I want you there.”
“Then I will be. I believe there are classes we can take to help you through the delivery.”
She stared at him, too shocked to speak this time.
“What is the matter? Do you not wish to take these classes? I had heard they were very beneficial for new mothers. I think you should consider attending them.”
“I had always planned to do so,” she choked out.
“You do not wish me to attend with you? Someone must be your coach. As your husband, I should fulfill the role.” He was arguing with her like she’d denied him.
She hadn’t. Didn’t he realize how much she had wanted to share her pregnancy with the father of her baby? She’d dreamed of taking childbirth classes with Dimitri, but had known her fantasies were unattainable. Cold reality had been a life without him and the prospect of giving birth alone.
“I want you to be my labor coach. I want that more than anything.” Then she burst into tears.
Dimitri looked like he’d just been hit by a truck. It would be funny, if she wasn’t feeling so emotional.
“Alexandra, yineka mou, what is it?”
She shook her head and tried to stem the flow of tears, but the salty wetness kept up a steady flow down her cheeks.
“You must not upset yourself this way.”
“I’m n-not upset,” she sobbed.
“Come here.” He took her glass from her hand and set it down, then pulled her into his arms and onto his lap. Just like in the limo. “Tell me what is making you cry.” He sounded quite desperate.
“I wanted you to be there so many times. I would wake up and reach for you and only find an empty bed. The first time the baby really kicked, I wanted to call you, but I thought you were married. I m-missed you so much…”
His arms tightened around her and he whispered to her in Greek. The words were too low and quick for her to understand, but the soothing tone was not. She snuggled into his arms and cried out the frustration and pain of the last three months.
Her sobs eventually turned to small hiccups and he mopped up her face as if she were a child. She gave him a watery smile. “You’ll be good with the baby.”
He didn’t respond to the joke. His eyes had darkened with unfathomable emotion. “You will never be without me again.”
As vows went, that was a pretty comforting one. She nodded, accepting his words and the promise in his eyes.
CHAPTER TEN
HER tears were killing him. And she’d cried like this for a solid month after leaving Paris? The thought sent shards of pain slicing through him.
This was his woman. His wife. He had almost lost
her. He would never let her go again. She had wanted him and he hadn’t been there. He didn’t want her to cry anymore. He wanted to look toward the future, for her to see things were going to be different.
He knew the truth now, who and what she was beyond the fashion model with an almost obsessive focus on her career. He understood that focus now. She’d been supporting her family, her mother now, but presumably Madeleine also until she had married Hunter. Alexandra hadn’t been able to give up her career to travel with him because she had needed the money and she’d not wanted to take it from him.
His arms tightened around her of their own accord. She filled his arms so perfectly, their baby nestled between their bodies. Her tears were lessening, but had not stopped. He knew of only one way to completely overcome her outburst of emotion.
It was with the one thing he had not managed to kill between them with his actions three months ago. Passion.
Possessive pleasure coursed through him as he turned her face upward until he could cover her tear-drenched lips with his own. She belonged to him now, both legally and with the emotional ties of carrying his child. He did not have to seduce her into accepting his kisses. She tasted so sweet and her response was even sweeter. Her mouth opened under his on a small gasp and he deepened the kiss with one thought in mind.
He wanted to obliterate her sadness and replace it with pleasure in his arms.
He plundered her mouth, his own desire soon surging through him in unstoppable waves. She responded with all the generous eroticism that was in her nature, her hands coming up to cling to his shoulders, her mouth moving under his with enticing need. He wanted her under him, surrounding his sex, yielding her softness to the hardness that made him a man.
He needed to touch her. His hands were working their way under the hem of her sweater when a sound from the anterior of the cabin reminded him where they were. On his plane. Readying for takeoff. The flight attendant would be requesting them to buckle-up any moment now. The woman had probably already gotten an eyeful. He forced himself to pull back and gently set Alexandra from him.