The Tycoon's Secret Affair (The Anetakis Tycoons #3)(13)

“This time, I’m going to make sure that my interests are better protected,” Piers said coldly. “I was a fool then.”

Chrysander sighed. “You were young, Piers.”

“It was no excuse.”

“Call me if you need me. Marley and I would like to come to your wedding. It will be better if family is there.”

“There’s no need.”

“There is every need,” Chrysander said, interrupting him. “Let me know the details, and we’ll fly out.”

Piers’s hand gripped the phone tighter. It was nice to have such unconditional support. And then he realized the irony. He hadn’t exactly offered Jewel his unconditional support. He’d strong-armed her and taken advantage of her situation.

“All right. I’ll call when I have the arrangements made.”

“Be sure and let Theron know as well. He and Bella will want to be there.”

Piers sighed. “Yes big brother.”

Chrysander chuckled. “This is a small thing I ask. It’s not as if you’ve ever listened to me before.”

“Give Marley my love.”

“I will—and Piers? Be careful. I don’t like the sound of this at all.”

Piers hung up the phone. He should call Theron, but he couldn’t bring himself to face another inquisition. Especially now that Theron had joined the ranks of the deliriously happy. He’d be appalled that Piers was going to marry a woman he barely knew, a woman who might well be lying to him.

Instead he phoned his lawyer and outlined his situation. Then he arranged a security detail for Jewel. He and his brothers took no chances with those close to them after what had happened to Chrysander’s wife, Marley. Next he called to see when Jewel’s doctor would next be making his rounds. He intended to be there so he’d know exactly what was going on.

Lastly, he called a local restaurant and arranged for a full-course dinner to be prepared for pickup in an hour.

Jewel was ready to fidget right out of the bed. She’d only gotten up to use the bathroom, and now she’d decided she’d had enough. The doctor was releasing her tomorrow now that someone had shown up to take care of her. She had to work to keep the snort of derision from rising in her throat.

She could do without Piers Anetakis’s brand of caring.

The thin hospital gown offered little in the way of modesty, and so after showering, she dressed in a pair of loose-fitting sweats and a maternity shirt. She toweled her hair as dry as she could and left it loose so it would finish drying.

She had settled in the small recliner to the side of her bed when the door opened, and Piers strode in carrying two large take-out bags.

She sat forward nervously as his gaze swept over her. Then his eyes narrowed, and he set the bags down on the bed.

“You should not have showered until I was here.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “What?”

“You could have fallen. You should have waited for me to help or at least called for the nurse.”

“How do you know I didn’t call for one of the nurses?”

He stared inquisitively at her, his eyes mocking. “Did you?”

“It’s none of your business,” she muttered.

“If you’re pregnant with my child, it’s every bit of my business.”

“Look Piers, we need to get something straight right now. Me being pregnant with your child does not give you any rights over me whatsoever. I won’t allow you to waltz in and take over my life.”

Even as the sharp protest left her lips, she realized how stupid she sounded. That’s precisely what he had done so far. Taken over. What else explained the reason for this marriage he proposed?

She bit her lip and looked away, her hand automatically moving to her belly in a soothing motion.

Piers began taking food out of the bags as if she’d said nothing at all. The smells wafted through her nostrils, and her stomach growled. Heavenly.

She raised an eyebrow. She wouldn’t have thought he’d give much thought to what she could or couldn’t have.

“Thank you, I’m starving.”

He prepared a plate and handed it to her along with utensils. Then he fixed a plate for himself and settled on the edge of the bed.

“I can get back into the bed so you have a place to sit,” she offered.

He shook his head. “You look comfortable. I’m fine.”

They ate in silence, though she knew he watched her. She refused to acknowledge his perusal, though, and concentrated on the delicious food instead.

When she couldn’t eat another bite, she sighed and put down her fork.

“That was wonderful, thank you.”

He took the plate and set it on the counter along the wall. “Would you like to get back into bed now?”

She shook her head. “I’ve had enough bed to last a lifetime.”

“But shouldn’t you be in bed with your feet up?” he persisted.

“I’m doing well. The doctor wants me on moderated bed rest until my surgery. That means I can get up and move around. He just doesn’t want me on my feet for long periods of time.”

“And this job you had, you were on your feet all the time?” he asked with a frown.

“I was waitressing. It was necessary.”

“You should have phoned me the minute you knew you were pregnant,” he said fiercely.