‘Then you weren’t right for each other.’ Emmie sighed. ‘What would have been the point of getting married?’
‘Exactly,’ Bastian agreed, shooting her a smouldering smile. ‘I’m so different with you. I don’t like other men looking at you and I certainly have no desire to look at other women. I can’t stand not knowing where you are and what you’re doing. I want to be sure you’ll answer your phone when I call. I want to know you’re living in my home and that you’ll raise our children there with me. I also want to know that you’re truly mine.’
‘Yours?’ Emmie questioned. ‘In what way do you want me to be yours?’
‘In the most basic way that a man and a woman can belong to each other,’ Bastian retorted, digging into his pocket to produce something, which he extended.
Emmie blinked at the spectacle of the huge diamond solitaire ring that he was offering her. ‘Er…what’s this?’
‘You’re bright enough to work it out,’ Bastian teased. ‘But it’s going to be the shortest engagement on record because I intend to add a wedding ring to your finger as soon as possible.’
Emmie stiffened, facial muscles setting tight. ‘I don’t want you to feel you have to marry me because it’s what your family expect of you,’ she told him squarely.
‘I knew they’d stick their oar in if they could but this has nothing to do with my family. This,’ Bastian declared, lifting her slender hand to thread the diamond ring onto her engagement finger, ‘is all about me and you and how I feel about you. I can’t stand you being away from me.’
‘Maybe you’re just possessive,’ Emmie remarked.
‘I can’t sleep when you’re not there.’
‘It’s sex you miss,’ Emmie contended heavily, refusing to be convinced by his transformation.
Bastian swore under his breath and lifted her up to face him. ‘Stop being grumpy and difficult,’ he instructed. ‘Somehow I fell madly in love with you and now you’ve become so much a part of my life that I can’t imagine it without you. It’s got nothing to do with you being pregnant either—that’s simply a wonderful added extra.’
‘An added extra?’ Emmie repeated in astonishment.
‘I love you,’ Bastian murmured intently, dark golden eyes locked strongly to hers. ‘And I finally understand how much that emotion can enrich my life.’
‘But you only hired me as an escort,’ Emmie protested. ‘If it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else.’
‘No. You were never an escort and I’ve never been with one and now I never ever will be, khriso mou,’ Bastian declared emotively. ‘You were special and you dug your way into my heart and taught me to feel stuff I never thought I would or could experience.’
A great bubble of happiness was swelling inside Emmie and making her feel light-headed. ‘Seriously?’ she pressed.
‘Seriously,’ Bastian confirmed levelly.
‘Pride comes before a fall,’ Emmie teased with a huge grin.
‘Slow and steady wins the race,’ Bastian muttered, nuzzling his passionate mouth against her throat so that she shivered in the circle of his arms. ‘But I’m sorry I was such a slow learner.’
‘I’ll forgive you because I love you too,’ she whispered. ‘But I didn’t admit it to myself until it was almost too late because I was scared of getting too involved with you and getting hurt.’
‘I will never hurt you,’ Bastian swore huskily. ‘My ambition is to marry you and spend my life ensuring that you and our children are happy.’
Emmie linked her arms round his neck and gazed up at him with adoring eyes and a sunny smile. ‘I’m not going to complain about that. You’re going to be a fantastic father as well,’ she assured him with loving confidence.
‘Even though I’ve got no manners?’
‘Says the guy who opens doors for me all the time?’ Emmie riposted as he did exactly that with the door in front of them.
‘So you actually noticed that change in my behaviour?’ Bastian quipped. ‘Why didn’t you mention it then?’
‘Didn’t want to give you a swollen head!’ She gasped, breathless with excitement as he paused to kiss her.
‘You have to notice to encourage me, khriso mou,’ Bastian informed her raggedly, holding her tightly to him, ensuring that she was fully aware of the effect she was having on him.
‘My word, Bastian, the last thing you need from me is encouragement!’ Emmie laughed at the idea, joy sparkling through her as she wrapped her arms round him and clung to stay upright.
FOUR YEARS LATER on her wedding anniversary, Emmie strolled down to the beach where Bastian was playing ball with their toddler sons, Dmitri and Stavros, Saffy’s husband, Zahir, and their son, Karim. In Emmie’s arms snuggled her baby daughter, Appollonia, cute as a button at six months old with her mother’s hair and her father’s eyes.
For a pleasant change the usually empty stretch of beach below the house was downright crowded. Bastian’s grandfather, Theron, was sharing one of the tables on the sand with Nessa, Leonides and their infant daughter, Olympia. A family BBQ was organised for later that evening. Kat and Mikhail, Topsy and their twins were due to arrive on Mikhail’s fabulous yacht before nightfall. Emmie knew it would be a fantastic, noisy celebration with kids running wild and sisters talking nineteen to the dozen to catch up on the latest news and she could hardly wait.
‘Give me that beautiful baby,’ Saffy urged, reaching for Appollonia, who gave her aunt a gummy smile. ‘Trust you to get it right. I’m having another boy when I was convinced I was carrying a little girl this time,’ she lamented, patting the rounded contours of her stomach.
‘Maybe the next time,’ Emmie said with a grin.
‘I told Zahir there wasn’t going to be a next time.’
‘You said that after Karim’s birth as well,’ Emmie reminded her twin, loving the closeness of the bond reborn after their long estrangement from each other.
‘Did I?’ Saffy sighed. ‘Zahir is mad about kids, almost as bad as Bastian.’
A black-haired squirming bundle of lively toddler tucked under each muscular arm, Bastian lowered his twin sons to the ground and doled out cold drinks from the cool box.
Bastian strode across the sand to lift his daughter out of Saffy’s arms and hold her high above him. The baby chuckled like mad, arms and plump little legs waving in frantic excitement. She was a cheerful baby with a wonderfully infectious laugh while her brothers were live-wire kids, who kept both parents on their toes.
Sometimes, Emmie could barely believe that years had passed since their quiet wedding on the island, which had only been attended by family. They had held a terrific party afterwards and just six weeks later their twin boys had been born early. One of their devoted nannies retrieved Appollonia from her father and Bastian crossed the sand to close an arm round Emmie’s slim shoulders.
‘Happy anniversary, pethi mou,’ he husked, brushing his sensual mouth gently across her temples.
In the sunlight, Emmie touched the perfectly matched pearls that gleamed at her throat with appreciative fingertips, Bastian’s gift to mark the occasion. As a wedding present he had given her an outrageously extravagant sapphire necklace, confiding that the first