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The Greek Billionaire's Innocent Rrincess(45)

By:Chantelle Shaw


your every move as they did today? You would be a hindrance rather than a help.’



‘The paparazzi wouldn’t know my whereabouts if I didn’t draw attention to myself by turning

up in a limousine, with a bodyguard at my side.’



‘Well, you are certainly not stepping foot outside this apartment without Stavros,’ Nikos said

tersely. ‘You are pregnant, Kitty, and I won’t allow you to put yourself and our child in danger.’



‘I have no intention of putting me or the baby in any sort of danger. But what do you mean by

“won’t allow”?’ Kitty saw red as the empathy she had felt with him at the museum evaporated.

‘Since when did you have authority over me?’ she demanded furiously.#p#分页标题#e#



‘Since you became my wife—and, more importantly, since you conceived my baby,’ he replied

in a tone that brooked no further argument. He glanced at his watch and strolled down the hall. ‘I

have an hour’s work to do in my study. I suggest you start preparing for the party. From past

experience I know how long it takes women to get ready.’



That final reference to his previous women— with emphasis on the plural—was the final straw,

and Kitty was seriously tempted to fling the porcelain figurine of Aphrodite that stood on the hall

dresser at his head. But Nikos had disappeared into his study, and after a few minutes she trailed

down the hall and through the master bedroom to her dressing room, carried on into the en suite

and ran herself a bath, hoping that a long soak in fragrant bubbles would relieve her growing

tension at the prospect of socialising with a hoard of people she had never met before.



An hour later she stood in front of the mirror and studied her reflection with dismay. The floor-

length evening gown made from rich ruby-red satin had a strapless, tight-fitting bodice, and an

even tighter fitting skirt that clung to her hips and bottom and flared out from mid-thigh, with a

side split that at least enabled her to walk. It was the most daringly sexy dress she had ever seen, let alone possessed— and it made her look like a tart, she decided grimly as she turned sideways

to the mirror and sucked in her stomach. Any woman who wore this dress would attract

attention. But that was the last thing she wanted to do at tonight’s party.



If she had realised how much of her body was displayed by the plunging neckline she would

have sneaked it back on the rail in the shop, Kitty thought fiercely as she tugged the zip down

and stepped out of the dress.



The black evening dress she’d brought from Aristo was not unattractive, and at least it didn’t

make her look as if she walked the streets for a living. Even better, it would draw no attention at

all, and with luck she could slink into a corner and remain there for the evening.



She swept her hair up into a knot on top of her head, exchanged the four-inch stilettos that

matched the red dress for black two-inch kitten heels, and walked through the connecting door

just as Nikos emerged from his bathroom.



He was devastating in a black tuxedo and a white silk shirt, his bow tie as yet unfastened and

hanging open at his throat. He looked every inch the urbane, sophisticated, billionaire tycoon,

with a raw sex appeal that would make every woman at the party go weak at the knees. Kitty felt

a fierce tug of sexual awareness that made her heart race and her breath catch in her throat. But

from the expression on his face, he was clearly not impressed by her appearance, and his brows

lowered in a slashing frown as he walked towards her.



‘Not quite what I had in mind, agape ,’ he drawled as his eyes slid down from her severe

hairstyle to her prim, plain dress. ‘I thought we had decided that you would wear the red dress?’



‘No, you decided I would wear the red dress,’ Kitty snapped. ‘But I refuse to go out looking like

a hooker you’ve picked up from some bar.’



‘You prefer to go out looking as though you are on your way to a funeral?’ His brows rose, and

Kitty itched to wipe the arrogant expression from his face. ‘You have five minutes to change,’ he

said in a dangerously soft voice. ‘You are my wife, Kitty, and I expect you to dress accordingly,

not wear something that makes you resemble a maiden aunt.’



Kitty’s temper had been simmering since their argument about her working at the hospital, and

it ignited at his heavy-handedness.



‘I feel more comfortable wearing clothes of my choice,’ she began, and then emitted a startled

cry when his hands shot out and wrenched the front of her dress open so that the buttons running