The Silver Bride

'I'm taking you home.' With long, forceful strides, Dior headed out across the ground-floor foyer towards the line of exit doors. With difficulty, Stella dragged her attention from him and took in the presence of the security guards at the main reception area.

One of them was rushing to get a door open. The other two were gazing rigidly into space with the fixed expressions of men who had had a really good look at them coming out of the lift but were determined not to betray any reaction that might offend.

Belatedly appreciating the spectacle Dior was making of them both, Stella g.r.o.a.n.e.d out loud. 'How am I ever going to work here again after this?' 'Goodnight, Harlequin,' the guard swinging open the door said stiltedly. 'Ne...yes, it is a good night,' Dior drawled with a truly staggering lack of self-consciousness.

Stella just closed her eyes tight, feeling the cool air of outdoors chill her burning cheeks. 'If I didn't still feel so awful, I'd strangle you for this, Dior!' Unrepentant, Dior stowed her hi the back seat of the waiting limousine and swung in beside her. 'We have to wait,' he advanced. 'Nolan is clearing your locker out.' Stella noted the finality of that statement, but she was past caring.

With the slamming of a door, the car moved off a few minutes later. Only when mind over matter appeared to be winning and her stomach had settled back to normality did she risk opening her eyes again. Dior was lounging back in one corner, surveying her with slumbrous dark eyes filled with satisfaction.

'Don't look at me like that!' she told him thinly. 'What way am I looking at you?' he whispered huskily. The same way she had once seen a man study his new car. With the proud possessiveness of ownership. 'Nothing's changed,' she warned him feverishly.

'Sometimes,' Dior responded with indolent cool, 'you are incredibly naive.' 'On the island. Not any more,' Stella qualified with deliberate acidity. 'And if naive is what you like, well... with your money I'm sure you'll find plenty of takers.' A slow-burning smile curved his wide, sensual mouth. 'Where would I find a woman with the courage to be as scathing as you?' 'If I were you, I'd be getting worried about what you find attractive in a woman!' Dior loosed an appreciative laugh. 'You challenge me.

I enjoy the fact that you're not impressed by who I am and what I possess. You have no idea how rare a quality that is in my world.' Stella tore her attention from the devastating magnetism of his lean dark features, her mouth running dry at the effort even that small amount of self-denial took.

She remembered the deference of his relatives at the villa, the invisible boundary line which had enabled him to mix without once being challenged by a more personal approach. His icy reserve had held them all at a polite and formal distance.

Only not her. Her pride had demanded that she be treated like an equal. Yet, had she been awestruck and silent around Dior Harlequin, she would not now be facing potential disaster, Stella conceded heavily.

If she was pregnant, how on earth was she going to cope? Stella's careful plans for her future had not catered for the possibility of a child. Indeed, those plans had revolved around the necessity of working very long hours well into the foreseeable future.

Servicing a large business loan would swallow up a good deal of the income the shop brought in; increasing profit margins would take both time and further investment. Stella breathed in shakily and struggled to suppress her growing apprehension.

Until she had confirmation one way or the other tomorrow, it was foolish to get herself into a state. 'All of a sudden you're a thousand miles away,' Dior drawled. Stella bunked and looked back at him, only then realizing that the limo had drawn to a halt.

'Of course, you're exhausted,' he conceded grimly. 'No, I think I might be pregnant.' Stella blurted out that admission without the slightest forethought. Dior froze in shock or petrified as a statue.

Indeed 'shock', she noted, was not an excessive word to describe his reaction. Stunning hazel green eyes clashed with hers. His strong bone structure clenched hard and he turned pale beneath his bronzed skin.

'Maybe...maybe I should've worked up to saying it...somehow,' Stella muttered, although she couldn't imagine any way in which such a bombshell could be delivered gently. She hadn't meant to tell him, hadn't even toyed with the idea of telling him, but the level of her stress had betrayed her.