The Tycoon’s Secret Affair / Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire: The Tycoon’s Secret Affair

“Better?” he asked softly.

She nodded, unable to form coherent words. She was floating on a cloud of sheer delight.

“You are worrying yourself too much, yineka mou. The stress is not good for you or the baby. Everything will be all right. You have my word on it.”

The statement was intended to comfort her, and she did appreciate his effort. But for some reason, his vow sounded ominous to her ears. Almost like this was a turning point in her life where nothing would ever be the same. Like she was giving up control, not just for the short term.

Of course things are changing irrevocably, you idiot. You’re pregnant and getting married. How much more change could you possibly make?

Still, she tried to draw some comfort in the serious promise in his voice. He didn’t trust her. She didn’t think he even particularly liked her, but he desired her, that much was obvious. And she desired him. It wasn’t enough. Not even close, but it was all they had.

Not exactly a prime start to a marriage.

Chapter Seven

Jewel tilted her head so she could see out the window as Piers pulled through the gates of a sprawling estate covered in lush green landscaping and well manicured shrubbery. The house came into view when they topped the hill, and her eyes widened in appreciation. Despite the size of the grounds, the house was what she’d deem modest in comparison.

Still it was gorgeous. Two stories with dormers and ivy clinging to the front. He’d said he rented the place. Who knew such places were for rent?

He parked in front of the garage that was adjacent to the main house. Behind them, the car carrying her newly assigned security detail pulled in. Before she could get out, one of the guards appeared and opened her door. He hovered protectively, shielding her…from what? Only when Piers reached for her hand, did the guard step away.

“I’m not helpless, you know,” she said dryly when he tucked her against his side. But she would have been lying if she denied that having his help thrilled her in an inexplicable way. His body was warm and solid against hers. Strong. The idea that she wasn’t alone nearly brought her to her knees.

“I know this,” he said in his brusque accent. “But you’ve only just gotten out of the hospital, and you’re carrying a child. If at any time you need help, it is certainly now.”

She relaxed against him, refusing to spoil their first moments home with senseless, petty arguments.

Home. The word struck her in the chest, and even as she thought it, she shook her head in mute denial. She had no home.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked as they stopped at the door.

Embarrassed over her emotional display, she uttered a low denial.

He opened the door, and they stepped into the expansive foyer. Beyond was an elegant double staircase curving toward the top where a hallway connected the two sides of the house.

“Come into the living room, and I’ll see to your things.”

She allowed him to lead her to a comfortable leather couch that afforded a view of the patio through triple French doors. It would be a perfect breakfast spot, she thought with longing. The morning sun would shine perfectly on the garden table.

What would it be like to have a home like this? Filled with laughter and children. And then it occurred to her that it was entirely possible that part of that dream would come true.

She looked down at the gentle mound covered by her thin shirt and slowly smoothed her hand over it. The baby kicked, and Jewel smiled.

She wanted to give her daughter all the things she’d never had, the things she longed for. Love, acceptance. A stable home.

Would Piers provide those things? Everything but love. Could Jewel love her baby enough to compensate for a father who didn’t want her or her mother?

Damn if she hadn’t done what she’d sworn never to do.

Piers traipsed inside the living room, hauling her two suitcases with him.

“I’ll take these upstairs, and then I’ll be down to make us some lunch. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

Unnerved by his consideration, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Good, then I’ll be right back.”

She heard him rattle up the stairs, and she returned her perusal moodily to the outside. No longer content to look from afar, she got up and walked to the glass doors. She pressed her hand to the panes as she gazed over the magnificently rendered gardens.

It was extremely beautiful, but it almost looked sterile, as if no one ever touched it, or even breathed on it for that matter. It seemed…artificial. Not a living, breathing entity. Not like the ocean. It was always alive, rolling, sometimes peaceful and serene and at other times angry and forbidding.

A hand slipped over her shoulder, and she jumped. As she turned, she saw that Piers stood behind her, his expression mild and unthreatening.

“Sorry if I startled you. I called from across the room, but you didn’t hear me obviously.”

She offered a half smile, suddenly nervous in his presence.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “I prefer the ocean, though. It’s more…untamed.”

“You find these gardens tame?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I suppose I can see your point. Would you like to eat now? I had something dropped by before we arrived. It will only take a few minutes to warm everything up.”

She turned sideways to face him. “Could we eat outside? It’s a beautiful day.”

“If you wish. Why don’t you go on outside. I’ll bring out the food in a moment.”

His footsteps retreated across the wooden floors. When he was gone, she slipped out of the French doors and onto the stone patio.

The coolness caused her to shiver, but it was a beautiful day, one of the few where nothing marred the blue sky, and she didn’t want to waste it by returning indoors.

She settled into one of the chairs to wait for Piers. It seemed odd to have this arrogant man waiting on her. He was clearly used to having the tables turned and being served.

The doors opened, and Piers elbowed his way out carrying two trays. He was a man of continuing surprises. He’d shown up at the hospital in time for her release, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a casual polo shirt, a far cry from the expensive designer clothing she knew he usually wore. He looked almost approachable. No less desirable, but definitely less threatening. In a more cynical moment, she wondered if he’d done it on purpose to lull her into a false sense of security.

He set a tray in front of her then placed his own across the table before taking a seat. She picked up her fork but made the mistake of looking over at him before she began to eat. He was staring intently at her, his food untouched.

“We have a lot to talk about, Jewel. After you eat, I plan to have the conversation we should have had a long time ago.”

He sounded ominous, and a prickle of unease swept over her. What was left for them to discuss? He’d demanded she marry him, and she’d agreed. He’d demanded she move in with him, and she’d agreed. Quite frankly her acquiescence was starting to irritate the hell out of her.

They ate in silence, though she knew he watched her. The heat of his stare blazed over her skin, but she refused to acknowledge his perusal. He already had enough power over her.

When she’d finished, she put her fork down, and still refusing to look at him, she turned her gaze back to the gardens.