Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption Of The Untamed Italian

MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!

CLARE CONNELLY was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Mills & Boon book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero, and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space—a surefire sign that she’s in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Mills & Boon novels continue to be her favourite ever books. Writing for Modern is a long-held dream. Clare can be contacted via clareconnelly.com or at her Facebook page.

Also by Maya Blake

A Diamond Deal with the Greek

Signed Over to Santino

The Di Sione Secret Baby

The Boss’s Nine-Month Negotiation

Pregnant at Acosta’s Demand

The Sultan Demands His Heir

His Mistress by Blackmail

Crown Prince’s Bought Bride

An Heir for the World’s Richest Man

Bound by the Desert King collection

Sheikh’s Pregnant Cinderella

Rival Brothers miniseries

A Deal with Alejandro

One Night with Gael

The Notorious Greek Billionaires miniseries

Claiming My Hidden Son

Also by Clare Connelly

Bought for the Billionaire’s Revenge

Innocent in the Billionaire’s Bed

Her Wedding Night Surrender

Bound by the Billionaire’s Vows

Spaniard’s Baby of Revenge

Shock Heir for the King

Christmas Seductions miniseries

Bound by Their Christmas Baby

The Season to Sin

Crazy Rich Greek Weddings miniseries

The Greek’s Billion-Dollar Baby

Bride Behind the Billion-Dollar Veil

Mills & Boon DARE

Guilty as Sin miniseries

Her Guilty Secret

His Innocent Seduction

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Bound by My Scandalous Pregnancy & Redemption of the Untamed Italian

Maya Blake and Clare Connelly

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90012-0

BOUND BY MY SCANDALOUS PREGNANCY & REDEMPTION OF THE UNTAMED ITALIAN

Bound by My Scandalous Pregnancy © 2019 Maya Blake Redemption of the Untamed Italian © 2019 Clare Connelly

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Bound by My Scandalous Pregnancy

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Redemption of the Untamed Italian

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

About the Publisher

Bound by My Scandalous Pregnancy

Maya Blake

One night with the Greek

Now I have life-changing news…

Two months ago, I, Sadie Preston, stood outside Neo Xenakis’s office ready to beg forgiveness for the biggest mistake of my life. Instead, I found myself begging for more as the impossibly arrogant tycoon set me ablaze with his touch.

Now I must tell him I’m pregnant with the child he never thought he’d have! Neo’s scarred by past betrayals and I’ve learned to rely on myself alone. Yet my shocking announcement will bind us together…forever!

CHAPTER ONE

REINCARNATION. KARMA. SINS coming home to roost.

Once upon a time, in the not-too-distant past, if anyone had asked me if I believed in any of those things I’d have rolled my eyes and told them to get real. That life worked on the amount of effort you put into each day.

On love.

Loyalty.

Hard work.

How wrong I was.

Frozen outside the towering glass and steel offices of one of the most powerful men on the globe, my wrists tingling from the phantom handcuffs that might become real before the hour was out, I wondered which deity I’d wronged to bring me to this end.

Did it even matter that the domino effect of sheer rotten luck mostly had nothing to do with me? Was it worth ranting that the sins of the father shouldn’t be visited upon the daughter?

No.

The awful truth was, while the majority of what happened to me in the past few years wasn’t my fault, this last, shocking misstep was one hundred percent mine.

Sure, I could prove that a collection of things had culminated in that one gigantic error, but the reality was inescapable. The buck, and the blame, stopped with me.

Time to own it, Sadie.

One more minute, I silently pleaded to whatever higher power held my fate in its cruel grip.

But, adding to every other misfortune unfolding in my life, my plea went unheeded.

The two sharply dressed security guards who’d been eyeing me with increasing wariness through the imposing glass frontage were heading my way. These days the whole world was on edge. I of all people should know that.

The economy had been partly responsible for decimating the family I once took for granted. The family currently hanging by a very fragile thread.

And dressed in threadbare clothes that were at least five seasons old, my troubled expression reflected in the polished glass, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was wrestled to the ground and arrested for trespassing. Or worse.

Disturbingly, that possibility gleamed palatably for a second, attesting to my true state of mind. Really? I’d rather be arrested than—

‘Excuse me, miss. Can I help you?’

I jumped, my hand flying to my throat to contain the heart beating itself into a frenzy. The burlier of the two guards had stepped through the revolving doors without my noticing and now stood a few feet away. Everything about him promised he could switch from courteous to menacing in a heartbeat.

Definitely time to own it, Sadie.

‘I…’ I stopped, moved my tongue to wet desert-dry lips. ‘I need to see Mr Xenakis. Is he in?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You’ll have to ask for him at the reception desk. Do you have an appointment?’

I nearly laughed. How could I make an appointment to confess what I’d done?

‘Um, no. But—’

‘I think you should leave now, miss.’ His tone indicated it wasn’t a suggestion.

‘Please! It’s a matter of life or death.’

He froze. ‘Whose life?’

I bit the inside of my lip, afraid I’d overexaggerated things a little. For all I knew, the man I’d wronged wouldn’t bat an eyelid at my actions. Truth was, I wouldn’t know until I confronted him.

‘I…I can’t tell you. But it’s urgent. And private. If you could just tell me if Mr Xenakis is in?’

For an interminable minute he simply watched me. Then he grasped my elbow. ‘Come with me, Miss…?’

I hesitated. Once I gave my name there’d be no going back. But what choice did I have? Either confess and plead my case or wait for the authorities to show up at my door. ‘Preston. Sadie Preston.’

With swift efficiency, I was ushered across the stunning atrium of Xenakis Aeronautics, through a series of nondescript doors that led to the bowels of the basement and into a room bearing all the hallmarks of an interrogation chamber.

Hysteria threatened. I suppressed it as the guard muttered a stern, ‘Stay here.’

The next twenty minutes were the longest of my life. In direct contrast to the speed with which my life flashed before my eyes after the enormity of what I’d done sank in.

The man who entered the room then was even more imposing, leaving me in no doubt that my request was being taken seriously. And not in a good way.

‘Miss Preston?’

At my hesitant nod, the tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man held the door open, his dark eyes assessing me even more thoroughly once I scrambled to my feet.

‘I’m Wendell, head of Mr Xenakis’s security team. This way,’ he said, in a voice that brooked no argument.

Dear God, either Neo Xenakis was super thorough about his interactions with the common man or he was paranoid about his security. Neither boded well.

Another series of incongruous underground hallways brought us to a steel-framed lift. Wendell accessed it with a sleek black key card. Once inside, he pressed another button.

The lift shot up, leaving my stomach and the last dregs of my courage on the basement floor. I wanted to throw myself at the lift doors, claw them open and jump out, consequences be damned. But my feet were paralysed with the unshakeable acceptance that I would only be postponing the inevitable.

Besides, I didn’t run from my responsibilities. Not like my father literally had when things got tough. Not like my mother was doing by burying her head in the sand and frivolously gambling away money we didn’t have. A habit that had veered scarily towards addiction in the last six months.

I stifled my anxiety as the lift slid to a smooth halt.

One problematic mountain at a time.

This particular one bore all the hallmarks of an Everest climb. One that might only see me to Base Camp before the worst happened.

Not a single member of the sharply dressed staff I’d spotted coming and going downstairs roamed this rarefied space, which boasted the kind of furnishings that graced the expensive designer magazines my mother had avidly subscribed to back when money had been no object for the Prestons. The kind that had always made me wonder if the pictures were staged or if people actually lived like that.

Evidently, they did.

The dove-grey carpeting looked exclusive and expensive, making me cringe as my scuffed, cheap shoes trod over it. Lighter shades of grey silk graced the walls, with stylish lampshades illuminating the space and the twin console tables that stood on either side of the immense double doors.

Made of white polished ash, with handles that looked like gleaming aeroplane wings, everything about them and the glimpse of the expansive conference rooms I could see from where I stood screamed opulence and exclusivity. The type that belonged to owners who didn’t take kindly to strangers ruining their day with the sort of news I had to deliver.

Sweat broke out on my palms. Before I could perform the undignified act of rubbing them against the polyester weave of my skirt, Wendell knocked twice.

The voice that beckoned was deep enough to penetrate the solid wood, formidable enough to raise the dread digging its claws into me…and enigmatic enough to send a skitter of…something else down my spine.

That unknown quality threatened to swamp all other emotions as Wendell opened the doors. ‘You have five minutes,’ he informed me, then stepped to one side.

The need to flee resurged. How long would a prison sentence be for this kind of crime, anyway?

Too long. My mother wouldn’t survive more upheaval. And with our landlord threatening eviction, the last thing I could afford was more turbulence.

With no choice but to face my fate, I took a shaky step into the office.

And promptly lost every last gasp of air from my lungs at the sight of the man braced against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, arms crossed and fierce eyes locked on me.

If his surroundings screamed ultraexclusivity and supreme wealth, the man himself was so many leagues above that station, he required his own stratosphere. Even stationary, he vibrated with formidable power—the kind that commanded legions with just one look.

And his body…

The navy suit, clearly bespoke, enhanced the bristling power of his athletic build. Like his impressive six-foot-plus height, his wide tapered shoulders seemed to go on for ever, with the kind of biceps that promised to carry any load rippling beneath the layers of clothes. Above the collar of his pristine white shirt, his square jaw jutted out with unapologetic masculinity, and his pure alpha-ness was not in any way diluted by the dimple in his chin. If anything, that curiously arresting feature only drew deeper attention to the rest of his face. To the haughty cheekbones resting beneath narrowed eyes, his wide forehead and the sensual slash of his lips.

He was…indescribable. Because words like attractive or breathtaking or even magnificent didn’t do him nearly enough justice.

And as he continued to appraise me, every last ounce of my courage threatened to evaporate as surely as my breath. Because the way he stared at me, as if he found me as fascinating as I found him, sent a spiralling wave of pure, unadulterated awareness charging through me.

For some inexplicable reason my hair seemed to hold singular appeal for him, making me almost feel as if he was touching the tied back tresses, caressing the strands between his fingers.

The snick of the door shutting made me flinch—a reaction he spotted immediately as his arms dropped and he began to prowl slowly towards me.

Sweet heaven, even the way he moved was spectacular. I’d never truly comprehended the term ‘poetry in motion.’ Until now.

Focus, Sadie. You’re not here to ogle the first billionaire you’ve ever met.

I opened my mouth to speak. He beat me to it.

‘Whoever you are, you seem to have caught Wendell in a good mood. I don’t believe he’s allowed anyone to walk in off the street and demand to see me in…well, ever,’ he rasped in a gravel-rolling-in-honey voice, sending another cascade of pure sensation rushing over my skin.

Momentarily thrown by the effect of his voice, I couldn’t tell if his tone suggested he’d be having a word with Wendell later about that misstep or if the whole thing simply amused him. He was that enigmatic to read. The mystery stretched my already oversensitive nerves, triggering my babble-when-nervous flaw.

‘That was Wendell in a good mood? I shudder to think what he’s like in a bad mood,’ I blurted. Then I cringed harder when the meaning of my words sank in.

Oh, no…

His eyes narrowed even further as he stopped several feet away from me. ‘Perhaps you’d like to move whatever this is along?’

Impatience coated his tone even as his eyes raked a closer inspection over my body, pausing on the frayed thinness of my blouse, the slightly baggy cut of my skirt following my recent weight loss, before dropping to my legs. The return journey was just as sizzling. Hell, more so.

That stain of inadequacy, of not being worthy—which had dogged me from the moment my father’s abscondment-announcing postcard had landed on the front doormat, in shocking synchronicity with the bailiff’s arrival on our doorstep eight years ago—flared like a fever.

I didn’t need one of my mother’s magazines to tell me that this man didn’t meddle with the likes of me…ever.

It was in every delicious frame of his impeccable body, every measured exhalation and every flicker of those sooty, spiky eyelashes that most women would pay hundreds to replicate. He would date socialites with faultless pedigree. Heiresses with flawless bone structure who listed royalty as close friends.

Not the callously abandoned daughter of a disgraced middle-grade financier and an almost-addicted gambler, whose only nod to the arts was learning how to execute a half-decent jeté in year-five ballet.

‘Or do you feel inclined to use your five minutes in melodramatic silence?’ he drawled.

The realisation that I’d been gaping at him brought a spike of embarrassment. ‘I’m not being melodramatic.’

One brow hiked, and his gaze scanned me from top to toe again before his face slowly hardened.

‘You stated that you needed to see me as a matter of life or death, but between the time you set foot in my building and your arrival in my office I’ve ascertained that every member of my family is safe and accounted for. My employees’ well-being will take longer, and a lot of manpower to establish, so if I’m being pranked I’d caution you to turn around and leave right now—’

‘This isn’t about your present family. It’s about your future one.’

He turned to stone. A quite miraculous thing since he was such a big, towering force of a man whose aura threw off electric charges. His ability not to move a muscle would have been fascinating to watch if I hadn’t been terrified of the look in his eyes. The one that promised chaos and doom.

‘Repeat that, if you please.’

I couldn’t. Not if I valued my life.

‘I… Perhaps I need to start from the beginning.’

A single clench to his jaw. ‘Start somewhere. And fast. I’m not a patient man, Miss Preston. And I’m about to be late for an important meeting.’

My rib-banging heart rate shuddered in terror.

My life flashed before my eyes. Again.

I pushed away disturbingly bleak images of a life unfulfilled and dreams dashed. Curled my sweaty fists tighter and cleared my throat.

‘My name is Sadie Preston…’ When that only prompted a higher arch of his brow I hurried on. ‘I work…worked at the Phoenix Clinic.’

Right until I was summarily fired, three hours ago. But the problem of my unemployment would have to be addressed later. Provided I didn’t end up in jail—

My train of thought screeched to a halt as he rocked forward, slid his hands into his trouser pockets and brought muscular thighs into singeing relief. Time pulsed by in silence as the very masculine stance ramped up the heat running through me.

‘For your sake, I hope this isn’t some sort of misguided attempt to garner employment, because I can assure you—’

‘It’s not!’ My interruption was much more shrill than I’d intended. And I knew immediately that neither it nor my tone had gained me any favours. Hell, his imposing presence seemed to loom even larger in the vast office, his aura terrifying. ‘Please…if you would just hear me out?’

‘You’re the one who seems to be tongue-tied, Miss Preston. While my precious time bleeds away. So let me make this easy for you. You have one minute to state your business. I advise you to make it worthwhile, for both our sakes.’

Or what?

For a single moment I feared I’d blurted the words, the volatile mix of annoyance and trepidation having finally broken me. But he didn’t seem any more incandescent. Simply terribly hacked off at my continued delay in spilling the beans.

‘I was fired this morning because…’ pause, deep breath ‘…because I accidentally destroyed your…’ I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, he was still there, breathtaking and immovable as a marble statue.

Firm, sensually curved lips flattened. ‘My what?’ he demanded tersely.

Tension vibrated through me as I forced my vocal cords to work. ‘I destroyed…your…your stored sperm sample.’

For a horribly tense minute he simply stared at me with utter confusion—as if he couldn’t quite comprehend my words—and then that face that defied description tautened into a mask of pure, cold disbelief.

‘You. Did. What?’