The Billionaire's Trophy(48)

‘And you want more?’ Saffy asked perceptively. ‘I felt the same way with Zahir. I didn’t want him to stay with me only because I was pregnant.’

Emmie’s eyes stung at the depth of her twin’s understanding. She blinked back tears and a little while after that the groundbreaking conversation concluded with Saffy promising to phone again the next day. Afterwards, Emmie sat still dumbfounded by the discovery that she could talk easily again to her twin and she was so grateful that neither of them had dared to broach any topic that might be controversial. That both sisters were pregnant, however, had provided them with a bridge that spanned the challenges of their shared past. In addition, Emmie acknowledged wryly, Bastian had somehow contrived to lift Emmie’s confidence so that she no longer felt that she was a poor, disappointing copy of her glamorous and vibrant twin.

‘You should invite Saffy and her husband to visit,’ Bastian remarked when she volunteered the news over dinner that she and her sister were talking again. Nessa had gone to visit her in-laws, who lived in the village.

Emmie tensed. ‘That’s very kind of you but obviously I don’t know how long I’ll be staying here in your home.’

Bastian raised an ebony brow, brilliant dark eyes bright as diamonds in his handsome face. ‘At least until the twins are born,’ he supplied without hesitation. ‘I want you to stay, and when I return to London to work, I’ll want you to accompany me there as well.’

Taken aback by that sweeping statement, Emmie studied him with shaken blue eyes. ‘I had no idea that’s what you were planning. I thought I was only here for a short visit.’

Across the table, Bastian stared steadily back at her. ‘Naturally you’re free to do whatever you want and live where you choose...but speaking on my own behalf I want you to stay with me.’

Emmie was hugely touched by that assurance even though she still had no real idea of what he meant by his words. Did he believe that simply being pregnant was so hazardous that he had to keep a careful watch over her? Did he feel guilty that he had got her pregnant? Was that why he was so determined to look after her? Or was there a more personal element than that? As she bent over her delicious dessert, she was insanely conscious of his attention locking to the rather low neckline of her top. She glanced up quickly and tracked the path of his hot golden gaze locked to the plump swell of her cleavage. She reddened and thought, Yes, it’s definitely personal.

‘Does that invite of yours include sharing a bed?’ Emmie enquired baldly.

A sudden grin flashed across Bastian’s stubborn mouth. ‘I’m yours any time you want me, khriso mou. I don’t play hard to get.’

Emmie didn’t know where to look because when she met his stunning eyes after that admission she felt intoxicated and dizzy. Unable to think straight, she savoured the sweetness of her dessert, the tip of her tongue sliding out to lick a drop of chocolate mousse from her full bottom lip.

Following that process, his attention locked to her succulent pink mouth, Bastian groaned out loud. ‘You’re killing me.’

Emmie froze. In the condition she was in she found it quite impossible to view herself as seductive in any way, but when she looked across the table to see Bastian’s molten golden gaze welded to her, her heart skipped a startled beat. He thrust back his chair and sprang upright, approaching her to stretch down a lean brown hand and grasp hers to tug her to her feet.

‘Bastian...?’ Emmie framed uncertainly.

‘I want you so much,’ he growled. ‘I’ve been working so hard to keep my hands off you.’

Emmie had only felt her own tension and had not appreciated that he was exercising restraint as well. ‘You find me attractive like this?’ she murmured wonderingly.

Bastian looked down at her with smouldering dark eyes. ‘I don’t really understand it but I find your pregnancy an amazing turn-on.’

‘OK,’ Emmie marvelled while nodding dumbly, entranced by the hunger etched in his face and the very slight yet revealing tremor in his hands as he raised them to gently cup her cheekbones.

And then there was no more talking and the last barrier crashed down between them while he kissed her breathless. He took her upstairs to lift her into his bed, where he made slow sensual love to her until she cried out her pleasure in wondering wanton delight.

A long time later, he lay with his arms wrapped round her and the most glorious sense of peace settled over Emmie. She loved it when he held her close and wanted to swarm all over his long, lean, powerful body like a flock of bees savouring pollen. Self-discipline, however, kept her still and unadventurous because she was terrified of revealing too much emotion or enthusiasm. Sex was sex, as Bastian had told her unforgettably, and she didn’t want to begin kidding herself that it was anything more. While they were living together, they might as well be sharing a bed, she bargained desperately with herself. She didn’t have to have a relationship all set out in stone steps in front of her to be happy, did she? And why shouldn’t she settle for being happy for now and letting the future take care of itself?