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The Silver Bride

Stella hoped to buy the bookshop where she worked, so evenings she moonlighted as a cleaner at Harlequin International... Until she overheard Dior Harlequin discussing a top-secret deal, and he insisted that Stella was an industrial spy! Stella was unnerved by her confrontation with Dior Harlequin However, Dior knew just how he would deal with her... Stella found herself on her way to Dior's island, and two days and nights of perfect passion... followed by an unexpected pregnancy. Dior had the perfect solution -- they'd marry for the baby's sake. By now, Stella was in love with Dior, but could he learn to love his expectant bride? Insight: A handsome Greek tycoon finds a cleaning woman hiding in a corner of his office and is taken instantly with the beautiful lady he finds. But when she overhears some confidential data, a thought suddenly occurred that he could use an excuse. For the next few days to maintain her chained to his side. "When you're my wife, I'll expect you to do exactly as you're told at all times." A stark little silence fell. Stella couldn't believe what Dio had just said. "Most especially when I am considering your welfare," he added gently. Stella trembled and compressed her bloodless lips. "You're not seriously asking me to… to marry you?" "Very seriously," Dior asserted. "But we hardly know each other—" "We know a little enough that I like you. I respect you. I desire you. What more is there?" "What about… love?" she prompted, striving for a detached tone. "What about our children?"

fatoum · Urban
Not enough ratings
75 Chs

Chapter 35: I'm not backing off

Stella paled at that retaliation. 'I told you I wasn't into one-night stands,' he reminded her steadily. 'You're still upset with me, Stella. I understand that, but it's hardly an insurmountable problem.' 'Whether I'm upset or not is irrelevant,' Stella protested tautly. 'On the island...us...well, it was more like a fantasy, a dream.' Dior dealt her a sizzling smile.

Thanks.' Stella stiffened, annoyed that he wasn't taking her seriously. 'But now we're back in the real world, Dior.' 'Even on Chandos, I was not aware that we had left it—' 'Well, I certainly had,' Stella countered vehemently. 'It was my natural environment. Idyllic moonlit beach, handsome foreigner saying all the right things...and pow, suddenly we're in bed!' Dior frowned.

'What are you trying to say?' 'We let ourselves forget who we both are,' Stella stated curtly. 'And what are we but two people who desire each other?' Dior demanded forcefully. 'I'm an ordinary working girl and you're a super-rich Greek tycoon! Stop trying to duck the issue,' Stella told him in exasperation. 'I could have been the cleaner on the top floor all my life and you'd never have noticed that I was even alive!' 'I would have noticed you—' 'No, you wouldn't have!' Stella was determined to drive her point home.

Because someone like you doesn't really ever look at someone like me—' 'But now that I have looked, I'm not backing off,' Dior interrupted with stubborn assurance. 'As for you being an ordinary working girl, that's a problem I would be happy to deal with.' 'A problem?' Stella gave him a bemused look. 'What are you talking about?' 'I want to keep the fantasy going. Fantasy I understand,' Dior confessed as he calmly linked his arms around her small but taut figure.

'I think you're adorable, Yinka Mou.' 'A-adorable...' Stella echoed weakly, feeling like a woman trying to stem a dam burst with a piece of paper. "There's no need for you to work,' Dior whispered with a husky intimacy that sent a flick of fire dancing over her entire skin surface. 'I'll buy you an apartment—' 'An a-apartment?' Stella stuttered in total bewilderment.

Dior ran a long brown forefinger in a silken caress along her sensitive jawbone and tipped up her chin to gaze hungrily down into her widening eyes. Hmm, Greek. I want to take care of you in every way. You look stunned. Why? I told you on Chandos that I had plans for you.' In serious shock, Stella parted her lips, but no sound came out the first time. Her vocal cords had seized up. The second time, a thready version of her usual brisk voice emerged.

'Let me get this straight...you are asking me to be your mistress?' 'I am asking you to be my woman,' Dior countered with Graceawatt cool. 'Your little toy...' Stella squeezed out since her lungs felt as if they were on the brink of collapse. Oh, what a bitter irony that he should make such a suggestion! She didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Dior studied her with a reproachful light in his dark gaze. "That is not how it would be between us.'

'Would you ask a woman from your background to be your mistress?' Stella could not resist demanding. Dior flung back his arrogant dark head, green eyes glittering with stars. 'You are the only woman I have ever asked.' 'Sorry, I'm not available,' Stella told him without a single shade of regret. Dior slid lean brown fingers into the fall of her silvery hair, holding her imprisoned.

Scorching eyes roamed over her flushed and upset face. 'You're hooked. You just won't admit it yet. You want me as much as I want you—' 'Right now, I could give you freezer burn!' Stella warned him.

'Let's see...shall we?' 'Dior, no—' But Dior crushed her soft mouth under his. And then he sent his tongue delving with carnal expertise into the tender interior of her mouth. Plunging and withdrawing, he set fire to her every skin cell in a charged and erotic reminder of how he had once invaded her quivering and eager body. Her thighs shivered. Helpless in the grip of that excitement, she pushed into the lean, hard heat and muscularity of his powerful frame.

Recognizing the bold thrust of his erection against her, she melted into hot liquid honey inside herself. With a shuddering groan, Dior cupped two big hands around her face and stared down at her with raw sexual hunger. 'Why shouldn't I offer you financial support? It would be as much for my convenience as yours. I want you to travel with me.