The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress / To Tame Her Tycoon Lover: The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress

She raised her head and stared him in the eye as her world crumbled and shattered around her. “You think I stole these?”

“They were in your bag. Don’t insult us both by denying it now. I want you out of here.” He made a show of checking his watch. “You now have twenty-five minutes remaining.”

The knot in her throat swelled and stuck, rendering her incapable of drawing a breath. She couldn’t think, couldn’t react. Numbly, she headed for the door with no thought of collecting her things. She only wanted to be away. She paused and put her hand on the frame to steady herself before turning around to look back at Chrysander. His face remained implacable. The lines around his mouth and eyes were hard and unforgiving.

“How could you think I’d do something like that?” she whispered before she turned and walked away.

She stumbled blindly into the elevator, quiet sobs ripping from her throat as she rode it down to the lobby level. The doorman looked at her in concern and offered to get her into a cab. She waved him off and walked unsteadily down the sidewalk and into the night.

The warm evening air blew over her face. The tears on her cheeks chilled her skin, but she paid them no heed. He would listen to her. She would make him. She’d give him the night to calm down, but she would be heard. It was all such a dreadful mistake. There had to be some way to make him see reason.

In her distress, she took no notice of the man following her. When she reached the curb, a hand shot out and grasped her arm. Her cry of alarm was muffled as a cloth sack was yanked over her head.

She struggled wildly, but just as quickly, she found herself stuffed into the backseat of a vehicle. She heard the door slam and the rumble of low voices, and then the vehicle drove away.

Chapter Two

Three months later

Chrysander sat in his apartment brooding in silence. He should have some peace of mind now that there was no longer any danger to his company, but the knowledge of why was hardly comforting. He stared at the pile of documents in front of him as the evening news droned in the background.

His stopover in New York was going to be short. Tomorrow he’d fly to London to meet with his brother Theron and have the groundbreaking ceremony for their luxury hotel—a hotel that wouldn’t have happened if Marley had gotten her way. A derisive snort nearly rolled from his throat. He, the CEO of Anetakis International, had been manipulated and stolen from by a woman. Because of her, he and his brothers had lost two of their designs to their closest competitor before he’d discovered her betrayal. He should have turned her over to the authorities, but he’d been too stunned, too weak to do such a thing.

He hadn’t even ridded his apartment of her belongings. He’d assumed she’d return to collect them, and maybe a small part of him had hoped she would so he could confront her again and ask her why. On his next trip back, he’d see to the task. It was time to have her out of his mind completely.

When he heard her name amidst the jumble of his thoughts, he thought he’d merely conjured it from his dark musings, but when he heard Marley Jameson’s name yet again, he focused his angry attention on the television.

A news reporter stood outside a local hospital, and it took a few moments for the buzzing in Chrysander’s ears to stop long enough for him to comprehend what was being said. The scene changed as they rolled footage taken earlier of a woman being taken out of a rundown apartment building on a stretcher. He leaned forward, his face twisted in disbelief. It was Marley.

He bolted from his desk and fumbled for the remote to turn the volume up. So stunned was he that he only comprehended every fourth word or so, but he heard enough.

Marley had been abducted and now rescued. The details on the who and why were still sketchy, but she’d endured a long period of captivity. He tensed in expectation that somehow his name would be linked to hers, but then why should it? Their relationship had been a highly guarded secret, a necessary one in his world. His wish for privacy was one born of desire and necessity. Only after her betrayal had he been even more relieved by the circumspection he utilized in all his relationships. She’d made a fool of him, and only the knowledge that the rest of the world didn’t know soothed him.

As the camera zoomed in on her pale, frightened face, he felt something inside him twist painfully. She looked the same as she had the night he’d confronted her with her deception. Pale, shocked and vulnerable.

But what the reporter said next stopped him cold, even as an uneasy sensation rippled up his spine. He reported mother and child being listed in stable condition and that Marley’s apparent captivity had not harmed her pregnancy. The reporter offered only the guess that she appeared to be four or five months along. Other details were sketchy. No arrests had been made, as her captors had escaped.

“Theos mou,” he murmured even as he struggled to grasp the implications.

He stood and reached for his cellular phone as he strode from his apartment. When he broke from the entrance of the well-secured apartment high-rise, his driver had just pulled around.

Once inside the vehicle, he again flipped open his phone and called the hospital where Marley had been taken.

“Her physical condition is satisfactory,” the doctor informed Chrysander. “However, it is her emotional state that concerns me.”

He simmered impatiently as he waited for the physician to complete his report. Chrysander had burst into the hospital, demanding answers as soon as he’d walked onto the floor where Marley was being treated. Only the statement that he was her fiancé had finally netted him any results. Then he’d immediately had her transferred to a private room and had insisted that a specialist be called in to see her. Now he had to wade through the doctor’s assessment of her condition before he could see her.

“But she hasn’t been harmed,” Chrysander said.

“I didn’t say that,” the doctor murmured. “I merely said her physical condition is not serious.”

“Then quit beating around the bush and tell me what I need to know.”

The doctor studied him for a moment before laying the clipboard down on his desk. “Miss Jameson has endured a great trauma. I cannot know exactly how great, because she cannot remember anything of her captivity.”

“What?” Chrysander stared at the doctor in stunned disbelief.

“Worse, she remembers nothing before. She knows her name and little else, I’m afraid. Even her pregnancy has come as a shock to her.”

Chrysander ran a hand through his hair and swore in three languages. “She remembers nothing? Nothing at all?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid not. She’s extremely vulnerable. Fragile. Which is why it’s so important that you do not upset her. She has a baby to carry for four more months and an ordeal from which to recover.”

Chrysander made a sound of impatience. “Of course I would do nothing to upset her. I just find it hard to believe that she remembers nothing.”

The doctor shook his head. “The experience has obviously been very traumatic for her. I suspect it’s her mind’s way of protecting her. It’s merely shut down until she can better cope with all that has happened.”

“Did they…” Chrysander couldn’t even bring himself to complete the question, and yet he had to know. “Did they hurt her?”

The doctor’s expression softened. “I found no evidence that she had been mistreated in any way. Physically. There is no way to find out all she has endured until she is able to tell us. And we must be patient and not press her before she is ready. As I said, she is extremely fragile, and if pressed too hard, too fast, the results could be devastating.”

Chrysander cursed softly. “I understand. I will see to it that she has the best possible care. Now can I see her?”

The doctor hesitated. “You can see her. However, I would caution you not to be too forthcoming with the details of her abduction.”

A frown creased Chrysander’s brow as he stared darkly at the physician. “You want me to lie to her?”

“I merely don’t want you to upset her. You can give her details of her life. Her day-to-day activities. How you met. The mundane things. It is my suggestion, however, and I’ve conferred with the hospital psychiatrist on this matter, that you not rush to give her the details of her captivity and how she came to lose her memory. In fact, we know very little, so it would be unwise to speculate or offer her information that could be untrue. She must be kept calm. I don’t like to think of what another upset could cause her in her current state.”

Chrysander nodded reluctantly. What the doctor said made sense, but his own need to know what had happened to Marley was pressing. But he wouldn’t push her if it would cause her or the baby any harm. He checked his watch. He still had to meet with the authorities, but first he wanted to see Marley and said as much to the doctor.

The physician nodded. “I’ll have the nurse take you up now.”

Marley struggled underneath the layers of fog surrounding her head. She murmured a low protest when she opened her eyes. Awareness was not what she sought. The blanket of dark, of oblivion, was what she wanted.

There was nothing for her in wakefulness. Her life was one black hole of nothingness. Her name was all that lingered in the confusing layers of her mind. Marley.

She searched for more. Answers she needed to questions that swarmed her every time she wakened. Her past lay like a great barren landscape before her. The answers dangled beyond her, taunting her and escaping before she could reach out and take hold.

She turned her head on the thin pillow, fully intending to slip back into the void of sleep when a firm hand grasped hers. Fear scurried up her spine until she remembered that she was safe and in a hospital. Still, she yanked her hand away as her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths.

“You must not go back to sleep, pedhaki mou. Not yet.”

The man’s voice slid across her skin, leaving warmth in its wake. Carefully, she turned to face this stranger—or was he? Was he someone she knew? Who knew her? Could he be the father of the child nestled below her heart?

Her hand automatically felt for her rounded belly as her gaze lighted on the man who’d spoken to her.

He was a dominating presence. Tall, lithe, dangerously intent as his amber eyes stared back at her. He wasn’t American. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of her thoughts. She should be demanding to know who he was and why he was here, and yet all she could muster was the knowledge that he wasn’t American?