Slightly Unexpected
Irresistible, Book 3
She’s the mother of the bride. He’s the father of the groom. And their summer fling just turned into forever.
Deanna White doesn’t do impulsive. But for one Greek summer, she let herself break the rules with a man who was never supposed to mean anything.
Now she’s back home. Focused on her business. And pregnant.
Aristides Christakis is a widowed billionaire with a sharp mind and a guarded heart. When he discovers Deanna is carrying his children, everything changes. He wants to be involved. He wants to protect her. He wants to make her his wife.
But there are two problems: their children have no idea about their relationship, and Deanna refuses his marriage offer.
Now Aris must navigate scandal, family secrets, and rising emotions while trying to convince the one woman who shattered his walls to give him a chance at forever.
She pressed closer, her fingers moving to the back of my neck, into my hair, and every point of contact between us burned. My thumb brushed the underside of her breast, and she made that sound again.
I wanted more. Wanted my hands everywhere. Wanted to strip away the thin fabric between us and—
She pulled back, breathing hard. “Wait. Wait.”
I forced myself to stop. “What has happened?”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, pupils blown wide with desire. Whatever had made her pull away, it wasn’t lack of want.
“I just—” She took another breath. “I don’t even know if you’re single.”
“Widowed for the past twenty-three years.”
Her expression shifted from desire to compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss, Aris.”
The same words I’d heard countless times over two decades, yet from her lips, they didn’t feel forced. “It was long time ago.”
“But you were so young. Both of you, I’m guessing.” Her hand moved from my hair to rest against my chest, directly over my heart. “My divorce was hard, sure. But at least my daughter’s father was alive. I don’t know how you did it.”
My hand covered hers, holding it there as I spoke truths I rarely acknowledged. “Some days, I did not manage this. I was poor at it. But my son needed me. That was sufficient to move.” My thumb brushed across her knuckles. “We do what we have to do for our children. You know this.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”
We sat in silence, hands linked, the ocean rolling before us. The moment stretched, weighted with a shared understanding that transcended the heat still simmering between us.
I broke the silence before I could reconsider. “Have dinner with me on Saturday.”
“Just dinner?”
“To start.”
“Seven o’clock?”
“I will come at six-thirty.” I rolled her nipple between my fingers through the thin fabric. Her whimper sent satisfaction through me. “And Dede?”
“Yeah?” Her voice had gone breathless.
“Wear something I can remove without complication.”
