Page 18 of The Greek's Innocent Virgin

When she told him about Pompella's recommendation for termination, he swore viciously in three languages. She didn't know if it was because the doc­tor had recommended it or because Rachel had re­fused to comply.

Having no real desire to find out, she didn't ask.

"Give me your contact information." The abrupt order after all that swearing startled her.

Too unsettled by his unexpected reaction to ask why he wanted both her home and work address as well as every contact number she could be reached at she gave him her details. Even if it did seem like overkill.

"And now, you are all right now?"

"I'm fine." She justified her answer with the thought that they would not have released her from the emergency room if she hadn't been.

"I will talk to you later," he said tersely and rang off.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rachel stared at the now dead phone in her hands for several seconds.

The sound of surf came in through her open patio doors and the wicker back of her chair rubbed against her shoulder blades like it always did, but she felt distinctly like she'd stepped out of her own little apartment into an alternate reality. One where Sebastian Kouros was not such a pig.

Their discussion had gone nothing like she'd en­visioned it. There had been no recriminations, no charge of entrapment, no denials of parentage, though he had not acknowledged his fatherhood either. Shockingly, he hadn't made a single base accusation, if she discounted his assumption she'd gotten married within three months of giving her virginity to him.

And she couldn't really blame him for that. She had given him a different last name.

As far as she could tell, he had not even been an­gry, but why had he hung up so abruptly?

Maybe he was trying to decide if he believed her. Perhaps, like her, he needed time to come to terms with what was happening. She hadn't exactly faced up to reality all in one go and for him, it had to be even worse. He'd ditched her and now she came up pregnant, a woman he didn't want, didn't trust and had obviously hoped never to see again.

The other side of her nightmare being pregnant by a man who could be such an arrogant slime.

Only he had not reacted like he was in a nightmare. If she could believe her own ears, she would have to say that the tone of voice she'd heard the most from his end had been relief, closely followed by concern. How could a man who believed she was the lowest of the low be worried about her?

There was black humor in the situation if she al­lowed herself to see it, but instead of laughing she felt a painful twinge in her heart. She'd been numb emotionally for months and she didn't welcome this sign her feelings might be coming back to torment her. Then she realized in all likelihood it was an ac­tual physical ache caused by her condition.

It had to be. She had nothing left inside her heart to react to him on an emotional level.

Thoughts of Sebastian, the baby and her medical con­dition whirled around in Rachel's mind like perpetual motion spinners making it impossible for her to sleep that night.

He hadn't called back and she didn't know what that meant. No matter how many times she went back over the phone conversation, she got no closer to un­raveling the puzzle of the man who had fathered her child and then rejected her with such devastating cru­elty.

Added to that, fear for the future and the health of her unborn baby kept her emotions keyed to nerve-racking levels of tension. She tried to find a comfort­able position to sleep, but no matter which way she turned, she could not get her body to relax enough for somnolent rest. Finally, her blankets and sheets in a tangle, she gave up and got out of the bed.

A cup of hot milk always helped in books, so she zapped some in the microwave, added a bit of sugar and vanilla because it sounded good and drank it.

She didn't feel appreciably more tired or relaxed, but she went back to her bedroom, determined to get some rest. The messy pile of sheets, askew pillows and her royal blue silk comforter attested to her restless night. She would have to remake her bed before she could even think of getting back into it.

She had fluffed her pillows, put them back on the bed and was snapping the top sheet into place when her doorbell rang. A quick glance at the bedside clock told her it was three in the morning. The doorbell pealed again, it's long drawn out sound, insistent on an answer.

The pale blue sheet fluttered from her fingers and she stared at her bedroom doorway, undecided about whether or not to answer that summons. She could not think of anyone who might visit her in the middle of the night. None of her mother's friends had her current address and none of the people she knew would be so discourteous.

The insistent peal came again and irresistibly drawn by the summons, but nervous about what it could mean, she padded along the carpeted hallway to the front door. She stopped in front of it, adrenaline rushing through her, making her heart beat too quickly for comfort.

A fist pounded against the steel door and she pressed a hand against her breastbone, trying to steady her heart rate as she looked through the peep­hole. At first she saw only a snow white dress shirt, looking less than pristine, undone at the neck and no tie. She couldn't see the man's face, but she would recognize him on her deathbed.

Sebastian.

She flipped the locks, dismissing the adrenaline rush she felt at the surprise at seeing him, then flung the door open.

Her lips parted in order to greet him, but silence issued forth, not sound.

His eyes were dark as slate with unnameable emo­tion and set in a face that looked almost haggard in its tiredness. He was thinner than the last time she'd seen him, as if he'd been ill recently and stress lines bracketed his mouth. The past three months must have been pretty hairy businesswise for him to look so worn.

Her hand went out toward him in an involuntary bid to confirm the reality of her vision with touch, her mind unable to accept that Sebastian Kouros was actually standing on the other side of her entry.

He reached out and grabbed her hand in his bigger one just as her heart started galloping madly again. Her breath came in short gasps and she prayed she was not about to pass out again.

She didn't get the chance.

He moved with lightning speed to swing her into his arms and carry her back inside. "Where is the bedroom?''

She pointed down the hallway and he carried her to it, laying her down right on top of the sheet she'd just spread smoothly over the bed. The gentle sway of the waterbed mattress added to her feeling of disorientation.

"Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?"

"No. The shock of seeing you... It... I just got a little breathless, that's all."

He tensed. "I should have called to warn you of my arrival, but I thought of nothing but getting to you from the moment you called."

He couldn't mean it like it sounded, that he had been out of his head with missing her.

"Because of the baby," she surmised, latching onto the real reason for his apparent concern quickly.

He might not accept he was the father, but family loyalty would make him check. Her brain told her there was something wrong with that reasoning, but she was too enervated to figure out what.

His mouth set in a grim line. "That is no doubt what you believe."

"Isn't it the truth?" Nothing was making much sense at the moment.

It was the wee hours of the morning, she was tired and seeing Sebastian always threw her off balance, but even so, the conversation wasn't going in any discernable direction she would have expected.

Just like earlier on the phone.

"I was concerned about our child, yes, but I was concerned also for you."

Remembering how easily he had evicted her from his life and under what circumstances, she shook her head. She was tired, not stupid.

"I find that impossible to believe."

He nodded, his expression bleak. "I knew this would be so."

Bully for him. It didn't take a genius brain to figure out how little he cared for her.

r /> Then something about his statement struck her. "You said our child."

"Yes."

"You believe the baby is yours?"

"Yes."

"You don't want tests?" She couldn't take it in.

"There will be no tests."

Air she had not realized she'd trapped in her lungs expelled in a big rush.

His lips twisted in a cynical smile. "You look sur­prised, pethi mou.''

"Thoroughly shocked more like."

"Then the rest of what I have to say will no doubt leave you gasping for breath." His gaze roamed over her with undisguised concern. The man really wanted to be a father. "Perhaps it is best left until morning."

"You're leaving?" she gasped, struggling to sit up.

Totally against what she knew to be best for her, she did not want him to go, could not stand the thought of being alone again.

Lowering his big body to the waterbed frame be­side her, he pressed back against her shoulders, keep­ing her in place. "Relax. I am going nowhere."

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