Reclaiming His Pregnant Widow by Tessa Radley Read Free Book Online

antsy. Vehicles had arrived at the camp in the dead of night, followed by huddled meetings. He’d heard the arguments, Akam’s voice ringing out above the rest. A few nights later he’d been awakened and bundled into a car, a guard on either side, with Akam, as ringleader of the group, seated beside the driver, an AK-47 slung across his lap. The journey had been tense, but there’d been no checkpoints. No roadblocks. No glimpse of Coalition troops. The location of the new camp had been farther into the desert, the closest settlement an hour’s drive away. In the days that followed, Akam’s temper had been increasingly volatile, and Brand had known that any hope of escape, or rescue,had just grown slimmer. They’d moved camp regularly after that…but there had been one advantage—he’d only been locked up at night while the others slept. During the day he was allowed the freedom of the desert camps. It had saved his sanity.
    â€œBut I’m sure you didn’t come to admire the view. What are you doing here, Brand?” Clea’s voice interrupted the unpleasant memories of heat and dust and squalor.
    Swiveling on his heel, Brand shoved his hands into the pockets of his denims. Clea had gotten to her feet and he watched through narrowed eyes as she advanced around the end of her desk.
    â€œI stopped by my offices—or what were once my offices—this morning.” Brand flexed his hands deep in his pockets. “There’s a floor of accountants in the office space that used to be mine. Where is my PA? My staff?” He kept his tone even, determined not to show the wave of impotence that had swamped him after visiting the former site of his lucrative high-end antiquities dealership.
    Clea stood still. “I’m sorry, Brand. I had to let your staff go. The business couldn’t operate without your expertise.”
    His treacherous wife had been determined to eradicate all trace of him, Brand surmised.
    Anger flared deep in his gut, masking the fear that had taken hold last night. At least anger he could control.
    What he couldn’t afford was to let her see his vulnerability…how raw and exposed he felt. He’d had years of practice in donning a mask of impenetrable reserve and showing no emotion, not even pain. Summoning that formidable control, Brand drew a slow breath and took his time to examine her. The fitted dress hugged her full breasts, the black linen rising and falling with every breath she took. He could’ve sworn her breathing quickened as he watched.
    Sheer willpower stopped his eyes from sliding lower to the barely perceptible swell of her belly. The very thought of the pregnancy still left him reeling. Instead, Brand let his eyes linger on her red mouth, before lifting his gaze to meet hers.
    Clea was frowning. “What do you want, Brand?”
    He resisted the mad impulse that flouted fear and ached to say you —and settled instead for, “I also visited the bank.”
    The clerk hadn’t even wanted to talk to Brand. To his shock, he’d been escorted to the door by security. In the past, bankers had fallen all over themselves to secure his business. Today’s experience had been a rude awakening.
    He faced Clea with the little information he’d gleaned from the clerk, his frustration bubbling over. “My accounts have been frozen. All of them. Apparently, you ordered it. So I assume the bank needs your authorization to activate them again.” It burned Brand that he needed Clea to vouch for him.
    She bent across the desk and flipped through a box holding business cards. Her black linen dress pulled tight across the shapely cheeks of her bottom.
    The hot, heady rush of desire was unwanted. Brand swore silently, disconcerted to discover just how much his pregnant wife still turned him on.
    â€œAh, got it.” Clea’s fingers stilled as she found the card she was seeking. Pulling her diary