Rion reached for her head and threaded his fingers through her hair, held her face firmly in his hands. ‘I think I am dreaming.’ The pupils of his eyes darkened, dilating with passion. ‘You are everything in the world to me, Selina, and I will treasure you to my dying day and beyond.’ And with a groan he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with a depth of passion and pure love.
Selina held her baby son in her arms unable to take her eyes off him. He was so gorgeous, with black hair just like his father.
‘Smile for the camera, Selina,’ Rion ordered, and she did tear her gaze away from her child—for her husband.
‘How many is that?’ She laughed.
Rion grinned. ‘A lot.’ He moved to the bedside and kissed her. ‘Have I told you today I love you?’ He kissed her again. ‘And I thank you with all my heart for our beautiful son.’ His dark eyes suspiciously moist, he gazed at the baby in her arms. ‘I never imagined in my wildest dreams such happiness existed, and it is all down to you, my love.’
‘My turn, Daddy. I want to see my brother,’ a little voice piped up.
Rion chuckled and picked up a little girl with red-gold hair and amber eyes—the image of her mother. ‘And so you shall, my heart.’ He kissed the child and sat down on the side of the bed, holding two-year-old Phoebe. ‘There—now you can kiss his cheek and say hello to Theodore.’
Phoebe pursed her lips and gave the baby a big kiss. ‘Hello, Theodore.’ She sat on her daddy’s knee, silently watching the baby for a while, then with a big sigh said, ‘He doesn’t talk, and he is too tiny to play with me.’ She looked at Selina and said, ‘Can we go home now, Mummy?’ Their live-wire daughter was already bored.
Rion looked at Selina and they both burst out laughing.
‘You and Daddy can, as it is nearly your bedtime, but your brother and I have to stay the night. We will be home in the morning,’ Selina replied to her beloved daughter, and after a few hugs and kisses—one passionate one for Selina from Rion—she watched them depart.
Alone with her son, she let a smile of pure happiness curve her full lips. Her free hand went as it so often did to the pendant around her neck. Rion had given it to her on their second wedding night and told her he had bought it for her nineteenth birthday. Their initials were entwined in diamonds on a platinum chain. He’d also told her he had planned a honeymoon to the Seychelles for the following week, when Iris would have been back at school. But as they’d never made it he was taking no chances and they were going to the Caribbean this time. She loved him more than ever, and was beginning to believe he might have loved her from the start.
Surprisingly Beth was convinced of it. Had been ever since Selina had arrived in Cambodia from her stay on Rion’s yacht. A large donation had arrived on the same day as Selina, and Beth had winkled the truth out of her. Beth had become a champion of Rion and now they were all great friends. So much so that Trevor and Beth were Phoebe’s godparents.
Contrary to what he had once said, Rion was a very jealous and possessive man. He had bought her another Mercedes a week after they’d got back together. She had tried to object, and laughed when he’d told her he didn’t like the idea that a friend had bought her a car any more than he’d liked a drunk being in her bed. He’d said if it was him even blind drunk he would still be aware she was in his bed …
She had told him she had bought the car herself, and the ‘friend’ with her had been the elderly gentleman who lived next door. Though he would never admit it, Rion had looked relieved.
The past four years had seen all her dreams come true, she thought happily. Their main home was a beautiful house in the hills high above Athens that Rion had had an architect design and build to his specifications. He had given his stepmother, Helen, the old home. They also had a house in London, and a holiday home in the Caribbean, and of course the villa on Letos, greatly renovated now, which Anna still looked after.
Rion rarely worked long hours, and had cut his trips abroad to the minimum. If it was possible Selina and Phoebe went with him. Rion adored Phoebe and was a very hands-on father, playing with her, bathing her. But then again he was a very hands-on husband, she thought. Rarely a day passed when he didn’t make love to her, and she knew with absolute certainty that he loved her.
A nurse walked in and took her son to put him in the crib by her bed, telling her to get some sleep.
With a smile on her face Selina curled up on her side and watched her sleeping baby until her eyes closed and she fell asleep.
A slight noise woke her up, and immediately she glanced at the baby. But it wasn’t the baby, it was Rion. He sat down on the bed.
‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered. ‘What time is it?’
‘After ten. Don’t worry. Phoebe is asleep and Aunt Peggy is watching over her.’ Leaning forward, he put a hand either side of Selina on the bed. ‘It is her father that needs you,’ he said huskily. He brushed her lips lightly, then kissed her deeply. ‘I couldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight.’ He nuzzled her throat and the baby whimpered.
The nurse walked in, smiled, but told Rion to leave. With another kiss for Selina, for once Rion did as he was told and left.
‘You are a lucky woman. That man worships the ground you walk on,’ said the nurse.
‘I know.’ Selina smiled and, totally secure in his love, she did know.
To James and Peter—without whose love and support I probably would never have written a book
LISA raised her hands above her head, stretched, and yawned. With only a fine cotton sheet covering her body she felt decadent and deliciously languorous, due entirely to the expert administrations of her very new husband last night.
The door to the ensuite bathroom opened and Lisa’s gaze automatically turned to the man walking into the bedroom. Six feet plus of pure masculine perfection, he was naked except for navy silk boxer shorts hugging his lean hips. He was also strikingly handsome, his strong dark features cast in the classic mould of the Greek male of legend, and he was hers, Lisa thought on a swift, involuntary breath. His thick black hair was still damp from the shower, a stray droplet of water easing its way down his strong throat and lower, to be captured by the curling black body hair that dusted his broad chest.
A lazy smile curved her full lips. ‘Alex,’ she said softly. Just saying his name was a pleasure. Sometimes she felt like pinching herself to make sure the last few weeks had not been a dream.
In the process of pulling on a crisp white shirt, he turned his dark head and his eyes clashed with hers. ‘I know that tone of voice, wench, but forget it. I have to be in London by eight-thirty.’ He grinned and continued dressing, stepping into grey tailored trousers.
‘Spoilsport.’ She pouted, and moved across the bed, allowing the sheet to slip to her waist. ‘Do you have to leave so early?’ she queried huskily, and was rewarded by Alex’s renewed attention. He walked over to the bed and, bending down, brushed his mouth over hers; her lips parted, hoping to prolong the kiss, but abruptly he straightened up.
‘Not this morning, Lisa, I have no time.’ And, turning, he crossed the room, picked up his jacket and eased himself into it. ‘I told you that yesterday, when we drove up here. Today I have meetings lined up in London, morning, afternoon and late into the evening,’ he flung over his shoulder, as he picked up his wallet and keys from the dressing table. ‘And from what your stepfather said last night, you have a busy day ahead of you.’
Lisa