'I do...' Dior breathed, reaching for her with determined hands and raising her to crash her startled mouth under his. That fiery demanding kiss knocked Stella sideways. His raw hunger snapped her control, released all the seething emotions she had been trying to control.
Her head spun; her heart thundered. Sexual heat zapped her. She quivered, locking her straining body to the hard muscle and power of his, a needy moan sounding deep in her throat as she clutched feverishly at his shoulders. Dior flung back his head, brilliant eyes burning like fire now as he scanned her bemused face.
'You do bring out the animal in me, Yinky Mou,' he husked, backing her indoors again and setting her back down on her own feet. 'Where's the alarm system?' Stella was still in another world entirely, her body throbbing with the pangs of denial.
"The...a/arm?' Dior located it for himself set it and doused the lights. Stuffing her bag into her hands, he tugged her outside again and locked up. 'What are you doing?' Stella finally muttered in bewilderment.
'We're going to have dinner and talk.' 'But I'm not dressed—' 'You've got clothes on, haven't you?' Dior cut in with very male impatience. Stella frowned down at her skinny-rib cardy, long black skirt, and flat boots. 'You look great,' Dior told her without looking at her as he pressed her into the Ferrari.
* * *
Their corner of the quiet, exclusive restaurant was so peaceful and so empty it was as if an exclusion zone had been set around their table. There didn't seem to be any other diners. Stella lifted her glass of wine. Dior looked at her, transfixed.
Then he reached across the table and snatched the glass right out of her hand. 'You can't have that!' Stella gazed back at him in total bemusement.
'Why not?' 'You're pregnant. It's safest to stay off alcohol. Don't you know that?' Dior demanded. 'Why should I know that?' 'You're a woman—' 'So?' 'You're supposed to know about that sort of stuff,' Dior told her with a frown. 'Well, I don't! I'm twenty-one, single and goal-orientated…at least I was,' Stella muttered darkly. '
Why would I ever have been interested in knowing what a woman should and shouldn't do when she's pregnant?' 'As it happens...Maxwell dropped this book for expectant fathers in with me.' Dior shrugged, and then shrugged again with exaggerated cool to combat her now widening eyes full of wonderment. 'I just flicked through it.' Stella could tell he had read every sentence, down to the fine print.
She was touched. He had made more effort than she had and she worked in a bookshop. Maybe he wasn't as squeamish as she was. 'I thought there were things I should know—' 'You do want this baby, don't you?' she conceded grudgingly. His dark, deep-set eyes narrowed warily.