He leant down to taste her in an exploratory foray that was supposed to be teasing, but which swiftly turned into a breathtakingly sensual assault. He plucked at the inviting fullness of her lower lip, traced the sealed line of her mouth with the teasing tip of his tongue and then plunged deep between her lips with the kind of hunger that made her tremble in his arms. A nagging hollow sensation deep down inside forced her to clamp her thighs tightly together.
‘Were you jealous of Joel?’ Elvi asked hopefully.
Xan drew back from her frowning. ‘Of course not. I’ve never been the jealous type and since you won’t be seeing him again—’
It was Elvi’s turn to freeze. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she interrupted.
Xan shrugged. ‘You can’t see him again until he’s got over you. If you keep on seeing him, you’ll be encouraging him to continue wanting what he can’t have. That would be cruel—’
‘I can see him if I want to.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ Xan sliced in squarely. ‘And why would you want to see him? He doesn’t want to be your friend, he wants to be your lover.’
Elvi reddened uncomfortably, unable to escape the maddening reality that Xan was making valid points.
‘He’ll get over it eventually,’ Xan forecast carelessly. ‘If he had really loved you, he would have taken the risk and told you how he felt about you. But if you want my opinion—’
‘I don’t,’ Elvi told him cuttingly.
‘He knew if he told you how he felt about you he’d be plunging himself into a serious relationship and he wasn’t ready for that. He kept you on ice for the future, encouraged by the fact that you weren’t putting yourself out there for other men. He missed his chance.’
‘You walked away from me too,’ Elvi reminded him tightly.
‘No, I made you walk away from me and it cost me. I’ve gone through a month of hell without you,’ Xan murmured hoarsely, startling her with that grated confession. ‘I haven’t even looked at another woman since the day you came into my office—’
Elvi shook free of her disconcertion and treated him to an unimpressed appraisal. ‘Angie?’
‘I was faking it,’ Xan said drily.
Elvi settled down into her seat. ‘You fake it well,’ she responded, stamping on the nugget of hurt that even thinking about that day recreated.
‘I wanted you to believe I’d moved on.’
Purely because he had a guilty conscience about her? Or had he had other more personal reasons? Elvi speculated, not quite convinced that conscience could have driven Xan into creating a false picture when the more obvious solution would’ve been to let her go immediately. Had a desire for more sex been his sole motivator? There was so much she wanted to ask but Xan had that distant look back in his eyes again, suggesting that he had already given up enough in explanations for one day.
An SUV whisked them from the airport to the villa in the South of France. It was rural, which surprised her, a picturesque stone property surrounded by rolling lavender fields. A housekeeper greeted them. Xan went off for a shower while Elvi wandered round the cool interior, impressed by the clever mix of contemporary and antique that came together to create a relaxed atmosphere.
‘Why did you buy this place if you hardly ever use it?’ she asked him as he was getting dressed in lightweight chinos and a cotton shirt.
‘I thought it would do me good to take holidays, but every time I came here I ended up working, so eventually I stopped coming,’ he admitted wryly.
‘I won’t let you work while I’m here,’ Elvi told him playfully.
Xan rested vibrant amber-gold eyes on her animated face. ‘I don’t want to work when you’re around. You’re bad for me.’
Elvi smiled at that very serious admission and, drawn by the glow of that encouraging teasing smile, he stalked across the room and grabbed her up into his arms, settling down again on the side of the bed with her cradled across his hard, muscular thighs.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, not when you’re pregnant,’ Xan breathed tautly. ‘I need to be more careful—’
‘The doctor told you I was perfectly healthy and strong,’ Elvi reminded him.
Very deliberately, Xan splayed long brown fingers across her lower stomach. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you’re glass and breakable now,’ he contradicted, smoothing her flesh gently. ‘That’s our child in there and we won’t be taking any unnecessary risks.’
Warmth stole into Elvi, his concern banishing her fears. ‘You really want this baby,’ she murmured.
‘As much as I want you, moli mou.’ Xan lifted her up again and set her down on her feet with careful hands. ‘Even if it was an unexpected development, it feels right now. Let’s go downstairs and get dinner.’
Elvi gazed up into brilliant amber eyes and her heart skipped a beat. His fingers engulfed hers as he tugged her towards the stairs. He wanted their baby and he wanted her. It was sufficient to power a healthy start for any marriage, she told herself soothingly. Shame pierced her when she recalled why she had agreed to marry him, because she suspected she had fretted herself into an unreasonable state of paranoia when she worried that Xan might try to take her child from her.