Читать книгу Satisfaction: The Greek Tycoon's Baby Bargain - Sharon Kendrick - Страница 14

‘JUST what kind of house do you like, Rebecca?’ Xandros demanded impatiently one morning as he stood in her sitting room, which felt like a sauna and looked like a laundry—there were so many Babygros steaming dry on the radiator. Who would have thought that at this time in his life he would find himself sleeping on a woman’s sofa in such a confined space? Moodily, he stared at all the specifications she had been shown and which she had rejected. ‘Anything specific?’

Rebecca forced herself to concentrate on house details, and not on the moody expression on his dark, rugged face. Choosing a place to live when there were no financial limitations actually made a decision harder, she had discovered. How much easier it would have been to have ruled out most of the market because it was non-affordable. Too much choice, she had come to realise, actually provided its own kind of headache. But anything would be better than having Xandros camped and cramped on her sofa—making her feel the kind of things she definitely knew she shouldn’t be feeling.

‘Well, I don’t want to live in one of those bleak-looking penthouses which resemble some kind of laboratory, that’s for sure.’

Xandros gave a short laugh, wondering what his award-winning colleague who’d designed it would think of her dismissive attitude. ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me what you consider important?’ He forced himself to treat her as if she were one of his clients. ‘If you were given an ideal home—what one thing would it have to make it special?’

That was easy. Well, if you discounted the fairy tale … what had she missed most since moving to the capital? ‘A garden,’ she said instantly. ‘That’s all.’

‘That’s all?’ Xandros gave a wry smile. Ironically, what she wanted was more elusive than any award-winning development. Was she being disingenuous or just genuinely innocent of the market? ‘Garden space in London is like gold-dust.’ He nodded. ‘But I know some people I can get onto it. Let me see to that.’

Rebecca pushed her fingers back through her untidy hair, resenting the way he could just snap his fingers and have a whole assortment of people to do all the running for him—but a feeling which was bigger than resentment was gnawing away at her.

Didn’t he realise that all this wasn’t easy? Going through all the motions of choosing a brand-new home, but without all the normal stuff that most new mothers might expect. Like the shared excitement of a couple in love. All she had was Xandros talking about putting his people onto it, in that cold and uncaring manner. Pretty much the same way that he’d dealt with everything else. ‘Fantastic,’ she said, with faint sarcasm.

His eyes narrowed—her attitude like a slap in the face to his macho Greek pride—and he felt the slow burn of anger, and something else too. Something which had been building inside him no matter how much he had tried to tell himself that it was no longer appropriate. ‘Such a truculent approach, agape,’ he murmured. ‘I thought you might at least be a little grateful.’

‘Did you?’ How many more expectations of her would he have? She had let him name the babies and sleep on her sofa and now she was letting him change the very fabric of her life. Where the hell was this all going to end? Rebecca glanced over at him, steeling herself against the sight of him leaning against the window sill—black denim encasing the muscular thrust of his thighs and a dark cashmere sweater clinging lovingly to the hard lines of his torso.

His black hair was ruffled, the ebony eyes were glittering with life and vitality and there was the dark hint of shadow around the strong jaw. This was Xandros at his most casual and sexy—and, heaven help her, but she wanted him. Was it normal for a woman to feel the slow, heavy ache of desire when she’d only recently given birth? Or was that just because he was Xandros? Because she had loved him and tasted the pleasures of his body so many times that maybe he’d spoilt her for any other man.

Gazing at the soft, olive gleam of his skin and remembering what it felt like to have it wrapped around her naked body, it was easy to forget all their turbulent history—even easier to forget that he was only here because he had to be. He’s only here because of the babies, she reminded herself painfully. She told herself that it shouldn’t hurt, but it did, of course it did—and she found herself wanting to hurt him back. To show him that she wasn’t going to act like a starving puppy who was just grateful for any old scrap he happened to throw in her direction.

‘And does my lack of gratitude rile you, Xandros? Would you like me to throw myself slavishly at your feet? Is that what you’d like?’