Nell winced. ‘I hate bullies.’
‘Tough.’ She was being trailed across the floor again. ‘The vote’s still out on your fate, so you stay.’
It took Nell a few seconds to get his meaning. ‘Will you stop throwing my words back in my face?’
By then he’d taken them through that other pair of doors and her attention was seized, because this was no office but some kind of beautiful sitting room decorated and furnished to Xander’s impeccable high standards and luxurious good taste.
‘What is this place?’ she asked curiously.
‘My apartment.’
‘You mean this is your City place?’ She sounded so surprised that he sent her a wry look.
‘What did you expect—some purple and red velvet-lined pad in atmospheric Soho specifically designed for bedding my women?’
The bedding-of-his-women bit brought the lovely Vanessa right into full focus. Instantly her face turned to paste.
He saw it and bit out a sigh. ‘When I’m in town I work, I crash out here, I work,’ he enunciated abruptly. ‘I also keep a place in the country but have never got to sleep there yet.’
His sarcasm was really on a roll, Nell noted heavily, and was suddenly fighting yet another battle with tears … The next thing she knew she was being engulfed by a pair of arms, her face pressed to his chest.
‘Idiot …’
The husky tone of his voice rumbled right through her. She wasn’t sure who was the idiot, her or him, but she did know she wanted to be right where she was right now, and that had to make her a complete idiot.
The small haven of comfort didn’t last long though. ‘Come on,’ he said gruffly, and turned her beneath the crook of his arm to guide her through yet another set of doors into a—bedroom with a huge, smooth coffee and cream covered bed on which he urged her to sit down on the edge.
‘Now listen,’ he said, coming to squat down in front of her. ‘It’s been a hell of a day and you’re exhausted. The wise doctor advised rest so you will obey him and rest—alone agape mou,’ he added severely at the protest he’d already predicted was about to shoot from her lips. ‘I have work to do, consisting of a mountain of paperwork to plough through before I chair a meeting in …’ glancing at his watch ‘… less than an hour.’ Grimacing, he sprang lithely to his feet. ‘There is a bathroom through that door,’ he indicated. ‘And a kitchen adjoining the other room if you feel the need for sustenance …’
He was already over at the window and drawing the curtains, so disgustingly invigorated by the prospect of work, while all Nell wanted to do was crawl into this bed and sleep.
‘If you need me for anything,’ he said as he walked back to her, ‘there is a telephone in every room. All you have to do is hit the one button and you will reach me. OK?’
Locating the telephone on the bedside cabinet, Nell looked at it wistfully. ‘Can I ring out on it?’
‘No, you cannot!’ He was suddenly in front of her and taking her shoulders to pull her upright. ‘Now, listen, you aggravating bundle of controversy. I am in no mood to fight with you any more today, but if you attempt to contact your ex-lover I’ll fight hard and dirty—got that?’ He gave her a gentle shake.
‘Yes,’ she said.
He let go of her with an impatient hiss. ‘Go to bed, get some rest and stop wishing for miracles.’
With that he strode out of the room with his dark head held high and his wide shoulders straight, leaving Nell wilting wearily back onto the bed.
Less than ten minutes later, stripped to her underwear, she crawled between the cool Egyptian cotton sheets. Feeling utterly bulldozed, she simply closed her eyes and dropped into sleep.
Pregnant, was her last memorable thought. I really am pregnant …
Pregnant, Xander was thinking as he stood in the doorway, following the streaming cascade of Titian hair spread out o
n the pillow until his gaze settled on her pale, pinched, sleeping face.
Was he pleased?
Hell, he didn’t know. He wanted to be pleased. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But when he looked upon the face of this—impossible woman, he had a sinking suspicion that the cost he was going to pay for the pleasure of impregnating her was going to be much too high.
Smothering a sigh, he eased himself away from the doorframe and stepped back into the sitting room, pulling the door quietly shut.
Time to stop playing the lovelorn idiot, he told himself, and time to play the hard-hitting, go-getting business tycoon.