Billionaire Prince, Pregnant Mistress by Sandra Marton

Author:Sandra Marton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780373128358
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

“All done, sir,” Cosiniia said softly.

“If you would just turn down the blankets on my bed...”

“I’ve already done that, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The door snicked shut. Demetrios didn’t move for a long time. At last he rose and carried Sam to his bed. She opened her eyes as he eased her down gently against the pillows.

“D’metrios?”

He smiled. “Hello.”

“What’re we doin’?”

“Getting yoU to bed, gataki,” he said softly. He put his arm around her, held her against him as he slid the bulky hospital robe from her shoulders. “Does your ankle bother you?”

Sam frowned and peered at her leg. “Whatsat?”

“What...? Ah. It’s an elastic bandage.”

“Waffo?”

It took a few seconds to decode. “What for?”

“You hurt your ankle. You had an accident.”

“Uh-huh. I’member. Dark street. Rainy. Stepped in front of car.” Sam blinked. “Yourcar,” she said, making the two words one.

“My car,” he said tightly. “Yes.” He laid her back against the pillows, still wearing the hospital gown. Sam’s eyes closed.

“Stilldress.”

Stilidress? He shook his head. “I don’t understand, sweet heart. What is ‘stilidress’?”

“Me,” she murmured, and tugged at the gown. “Still- dress.”

Of course. She was still dressed, still in her underthings. Could he let her sleep in them? Or—or...

His throat constricted. He knew what to do. Ring for Cosimia. Ask her to come to his room, to undress Sam and slip her into something cool and silken. But even as he thought it, he was undoing the ties of the hospital gown, sliding the gown off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist, fumbling at the closure of her bra.

Demetrios caught his breath at her beauty, at the small, rounded lushness of her breasts and the elegant contrast of

colors: the pale gold of her skin, the deep apricot of her nijples. How smooth her shoulders were, under his hands...

He dropped robe to the carpet, tortured himself with a quick glance at the strip of lace between her thighs, then laid her down against the pillows.

‘ Nice,” she whispered, her eyes still tightly closecL

“Very nice,” he whispered back, and drew up the silk duvet.

She sighed, let out a long breath. He waited until her breathing become slow and steady. Then he kissed her fore hea her eyelids, her slightly parted lips.

Briskly, be undressed and put on a pair of sweat pants in def his guest. He turned off all the lights but one that he dimmed, went into his dressing room, left the door open so he could hear Sam should she need him and lay down on the sofa. It was too short for his long legs but he was exhausted and he groaned with pleasure at the cool caress of the sheets. He shut his eyes, rolled over, rolled over again...

Sleep evaded him. He kept listening for Sam; kept getting up, going into the bedroom, standing over her to make sure she was all right.

SOmetime during the endless hours of the endless night, he heard her moaning. “Sweetheart?” he said, and he threw back blankets and hurried to her side. She was sitting up, the duvet clutched to her chin, still groggy enough to stare at him blankly.

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