It seemed to distract Annabelle from her anxiety. Her eyes moved to Max and a small smile curved her lips. The first since they’d boarded the jet, he realised.
‘Why?’
‘Well, he bears more than a passing resemblance.’ Dimitrios tried to make light of his admission, but Annie shook her head.
‘Well, you are twins,’ she responded in a droll tone.
Dimitrios nodded.
‘So why, then?’
‘Let’s just say the rumours about me are generally exaggerated.’
‘You mean you don’t go through women like most men go through underwear?’ she prompted, and though her voice was calm she was watching him with an intensity that told him to be careful—he didn’t want to give her false hope about him.
‘I’m not a saint,’ he said with a lift of his shoulders. ‘I’ve been with women. But I’m careful. You are the only woman I’ve ever lost control with.’
She looked towards Max, perhaps double-checking he was still asleep.
He moved the subject off himself. ‘Zach is more...carefree. We’re twins, yes, but we’re very different. If either of us was going to accidentally get a woman pregnant, I would have put money on it being him.’
Annabelle tilted her head to one side, considering that, but whatever response she was about to offer, it wasn’t to be. Her attention was caught by something behind him, and her lips parted, so he turned to see his house from her perspective. The size of it was impressive but it was more than that. The car paused at enormous gates that swung open on their approach, then it swept up a long drive, past ancient trees with huge canopies that provided much-needed shade on summer days.
‘This is it, then,’ she said, but quietly, more to herself than him. He wanted to wipe the worry from her face, to give her courage, so before he could second-guess the wisdom of his intentions he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was only meant to be brief, just a boost of strength, a distraction, but the second their lips connected he felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His body moved closer, pressing hers back against the car, kissing her until her hands lifted and tangled in the collar of his shirt and she made that sweet little moan of hers. He swallowed it deep inside himself, thinking how addictive her noises were, how much he liked hearing her make them, how she was unlike any woman he’d ever known.
And she was—because Annabelle was now his wife. Mrs Papandreo.
The door to the limousine opened. He fought a wave of frustration at the interruption. What had he been hoping for? To have his way with her here in the back seat of the car? Their son was asleep only a short distance away. Where the hell had his self-control gone?
‘What was that for?’ Her eyes were enormous, her lower lip full and dark from the pressure of his kiss.
‘To distract you,’ he said. ‘Did it work?’
She shifted, casting a glance towards the house then turned back to face him. ‘For about three seconds.’
And, despite the fact he was the one who’d called a halt to the physical side of their relationship, he found himself saying, ‘I might have to be more inventive, then.’
Her intake of breath was audible. He smiled, loving how easily he could arouse her, tease her—but that wasn’t a one-way street. When he stepped out of the limousine behind Annabelle, he was conscious of how badly he wanted her.
‘Max is exhausted,’ she observed, the nervousness back in her voice.
‘There’s been a lot going on recently.’
‘Yes. And he was so excited to be on the plane, he barely slept.’
He’d noticed that. Max’s curiosity had been insatiable. He’d wanted to understand everything he could about planes—the atmosphere, engines, jet fuel, air traffic control. Dimitrios had answered all the questions he himself would have had as a boy, but he knew there’d be still more to follow from Max.
‘He’s very intelligent,’ Dimitrios murmured.
‘Yes. There was some talk of putting him up a year, but I decided to hold him where he is for now.’
Dimitrios straightened, midway to reaching into the car. ‘Why?’
‘You don’t agree with my decision?’
‘That’s not what I said. I’m just curious. I would have thought most people would be thrilled by the possibility of that.’
‘Not me. I know he’s a smart kid. He’ll do great things as he gets older. But he has to develop socially too, and putting him up an academic year or two could be really hard for him to juggle. He’s happy—he was happy—with his peers. I thought I’d see how he was doing in a few years and then decide if it’s worth considering.’
Dimitrios reached into the car to unbuckle Max, lifting him easily and carrying him over one shoulder. ‘I’ll get Max into bed and then show you around.’
Her head was spinning so fast, it truly felt as though it might come off altogether. She’d seen the outside of his house and she’d seen his penthouse in Sydney so she’d known to expect grand. But this was a whole new level of grand. While the house was some kind of brilliant tribute to modernism, with the appearance of concrete cubes all stuck together to form different spaces—including several rooms that seemed to be both outdoor and indoor at the same time—it also boasted an incredible array of antiques, all Singaporean, ancient and fascinating.
She found herself wanting to ask question upon question about each one, but instead contented herself with admiring them from a distance—a sculpture here, a fountain there, a tapestry, a vase. The ceilings were high, the floors marble and tile, polished to a high sheen. In the background there was an army of servants, all wearing black uniforms, the women in white aprons, moving silently and almost unseen—except Annie did see them. She saw everything—with a mixed sense of awe and fascination.
It was hot, too—far hotter than in Sydney—though inside was blessedly air-conditioned. She looked around the room he’d brought her to. It was technically their bedroom, but it was so much more. At least four times the size of her apartment, it boasted a bed carved from wood, large and ornate, and a sofa that was covered in velvet, a beautiful shade of apple-green. The floors were timber with a large brightly coloured rug, and wooden French doors opened out on to a balcony. Curtains billowed from it.
Fascinated, Annie moved in that direction, aware of Dimitrios’s eyes following her progress, and then his body walking behind hers. The steamy heat hit her like a wall when she emerged, but she breathed in deeply, the air inexplicably tropical. Her hands curved around the railing as she took in the new, unfamiliar skyline. Lights shone brightly in one direction, including the Marina Bay towers she’d seen on television. In the other, it was sheer darkness.
‘The bay,’ he explained, pointing from behind her, so his arm brushed hers. ‘In the morning, you’ll see it for yourself. It’s beautiful.’
She shifted her face a little, looking up at him. It was a mistake. He was closer than she’d realised and in moving she’d brought her lips within reach of his cheek. The compulsion to press forward and kiss him was overpowering.
Our marriage won’t be based on love, but it can still be good.
Everything about this whirlwind was like a fairy story, except for that. Annie and Dimitrios knew what no one looking in from the outside could see. It was all fake. The vows they’d spoken to one another, promising to love and honour, were a lie. A lie born out of love—but love for Max, and even Lewis, not for each other.
She sighed, looking away from Dimitrios, focussing on the towers across the water. ‘They’re beautiful.’ Her voice was hoarse, and she swallowed to moisten her mouth. ‘I’ve seen them in movies, but in real life, they’re huge.’
Had he moved even closer? In the sultry night air, she caught a hint of his masculine aroma, and her stomach clenched in automatic response.
‘An excellent spot for Christmas shopping.’
She wrinkled her nose, well aware that the shops in a building such as that were bound to be incredibly high-end.
‘I see your hesitation, Mrs Papandreo,’ he said quietly, the words a caress against her ear. Her pulse lifted. She felt an ache deep inside, a need to push backward a little and lean against his broad chest, to feel his closeness and have his arms wrap around her. She wanted to pretend, just for one night, that their marriage was a real marriage. That this was a normal wedding night, and the passion that flowed between them had roots in love, as well as lust.
But Annie knew the risks inherent in such pretence. She had to stay on her toes.
‘Perhaps,’ she said with a little lift of her shoulders. ‘I didn’t see a Christmas tree in your house.’
Dimitrios stayed close and she was glad of that. ‘It’s still three weeks away.’
Annie turned to face him then. ‘That’s soon.’
‘Then I’ll have a tree brought in.’
‘Do you have decorations?’
‘They’ll bring those too.’
She shook her head, a smile tickling her lips. ‘Life really is different for you.’
‘Is that a complaint?’
‘On the contrary. I’m starting to think I could get used to this.’
‘We’re so high up, Mummy! I feel like I could fly.’
‘Don’t you dare. Don’t even think about it.’ She reached out and grabbed Max by the back of his shirt, her heart rate accelerating at the very idea of him pitching his little body over the railing.
Dimitrios laughed, leaning closer so he could whisper in her ear. ‘I don’t really think he’s going to jump, do you?’
Embarrassed, she threw him a look. ‘We’re so high up.’
‘And perfectly safe.’ He nudged her shoulder then reached down, taking Max’s hand in his. ‘Now, no more giving your mother a heart attack.’ He winked at Annie and began to walk off, the two of them so similar that she stood where she was for a moment, high above Singapore, enjoying the vista of the Supertrees and the walkway that linked two of them. The view was incomparable, the air cool and fresh up there. And, more than that, Max was in seventh heaven after a whole day spent exploring Bay South with Dimitrios.
The sun was lowering in the sky, casting the world in shades of orange, and a moment later Dimitrios slowed to a stop and turned back towards Annie.
‘You coming?’ he mouthed, their eyes sparking even at this distance.
She swallowed and began to move, catching them easily. Dimitrios reached for her hand and she let him, the sense of rightness spreading through her as they walked.
‘This is like magic.’ Max’s voice was filled with wonder. Annie couldn’t disagree.
‘You should see it at night.’ Dimitrios gestured to the Supertrees that made up this man-made grove. ‘The trees light up like big sparklers.’
Max’s face showed suitable awe.
‘It sounds breath-taking,’ Annie murmured. Dimitrios stopped walking and stared at her. His look was so full of admiration and intensity that her heart warmed, her cheeks turned pink and she felt a thousand and one things.
He lifted a hand, brushing his thumb across her cheek, and then he smiled, a smile that reached right inside her and made her feel special and perfect.
‘What’s that, down there?’
Annie followed Max’s gaze. ‘It looks like some kind of street performance. A magic show, perhaps?’ Nestled amongst the trees on street level, a group had set up, and a crowd had formed to watch them.
‘Cool! Magic! Can we go see?’
Annie had been about to distract him, but Dimitrios spoke first. ‘Sure, buddy. It’s on the way home.’
Home. Her heart shifted gear; she did her best to tame it into submission.
Hours later, a weary Max was carried through the doors of their house by his father. Annie was too alive to feel weary. The day had been one of the best of her life. A spontaneous suggestion to show Max some sights had led to a picnic lunch by the water, and an afternoon spent at the Gardens by the Bay, the skywalk and then finally a pleasurable hour watching talented magicians wow their crowd.
‘He’s exhausted,’ she murmured as they approached the door. Dimitrios ruefully caught her eye over Max’s head.
‘Perhaps I pushed it too far today.’
‘No,’ she denied. She’d never forget the sight of Max and his dad playing soccer together—such a simple act, but one that had spoken of love and togetherness, something she hoped to see repeated often. ‘It was perfect.’
Their eyes held and her heart sparked once more, rioting in her chest.
‘I must admit, I had an ulterior motive in keeping you out so late.’
Annie frowned. ‘You did? What?’
‘What’s an ulterior motive?’ Max mumbled sleepily.
Dimitrios pushed the doors open and stood back to allow Annie to enter ahead of him. She did so and then froze...the decorations almost too enormous and over-the-top to process.
‘Oh, my goodness. What have you done?’
She whirled around to find Dimitrios watching her carefully.
‘Do you like it?’
His question was casual but his voice was deep.
Her expression was lightly mocking. ‘No, I hate it.’ She pushed lightly at his arm. ‘It’s incredible.’
He put an arm around her, drawing her close to his side. Magic and mistletoe were so thick in the air, she had to work to remind herself that this was all just pretend. All of it except how much they both loved Max, who was rubbing his bleary eyes and no doubt trying to understand why his father’s house now resembled a department store. It had been completely decked out with Christmas finery—all while they’d been out for the day.
‘Why?’
‘You wanted a Christmas tree.’
‘A Christmas tree!’ she exclaimed with disbelief, lifting a finger. ‘As in one. Somewhere. Something small to sit around on Christmas morning and put Max’s presents beneath. This is...’ She searched for the right word, her eyes saucer-like. ‘Spectacular.’
‘You deserve spectacular,’ he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose, sparking a kaleidoscope of butterflies deep in her tummy. It’s not real. Somehow, despite all the mistletoe and magic, she had to remember that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I DIDN’T KNOW there were butterflies in space.’
‘Hey, who’s telling this story?’ Lewis pressed a finger to Annie’s nose, his wink crinkling one side of his face.
‘You.’
‘Right, so let me tell it.’
‘Keep going.’
‘Yes, ma’am. A whole army of butterflies lifted way off the surface of the planet, their wings all silvery and shimmering, so that even in the darkness of space they shone like tiny little stars. Princess Annie put her hand out, like this...’ He reached forward and arranged Annie’s hand so it was at a funny angle. She giggled. ‘And they came to sit on her arm, and her fingertips, and her hair. They were nice butterflies, not the kind that bite you—’
‘Butterflies don’t bite.’
‘Some do.’
‘Do not.’
‘Annie,’ he warned.
She bit down on her lip. ‘Okay, keep going.’
‘Only two butterflies bit Annie.’
‘Hey.’ She punched his shoulder.
He grinned.
‘They lifted Annie far away from the planet and carried her out into space. The End.’
‘Wait a second.’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not a happy ending.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No, and you said there’s always a happy ending.’
‘Ah, so there is.’ He stood up from her bed, and Annie wriggled down, arranging her head on the pillow. Lewis pulled the quilt up under her chin, then stroked h
er head. ‘How about this, then? The butterflies carried Princess Annie through space, all the way to her home planet, where she was met with rose petals at her feet and jubilant cries from her adoring public.’
‘Better,’ she murmured, her eyes heavy.
‘She was brought to the palace in a golden carriage, shaped like a pumpkin but with butterfly wings, and there the prince she’d fallen in love with as a child was waiting—he’d never forgotten her. They got married and lived happily ever after.’
Annie smiled, sleep almost claiming her. ‘And the Zap Aliens?’
‘They never bothered her again.’
Annie woke with a start, a disorienting confusion seeping into her, so she pushed up and blinked, trying to remember where she was. Not in the small bedroom she’d grown up in, and not with Lewis telling her bed-time stories. Not in her home in Sydney, where she and Max had spent the last six years. Something spiky caught her attention, and then the hint of pine-needle fragrance, and it all came whooshing back.
She lifted her hand to be sure, eyeing the enormous diamond.
Dimitrios. Their marriage. Singapore.
She moved a little, looking at him sleeping, her heart hammering against her ribs. God, what was she doing? Dreams and memories of Lewis had formed a lump in her throat; she stepped out of bed as quietly as she was able, padding gently across the room to the door, which she opened silently, slipping downstairs and into the industrial kitchen.
She silently made a cup of tea and carried it through the downstairs of the sprawling mansion. One of her favourite rooms was a sunken sitting room that seemed to jut out of the house itself. She liked it because there were enormous trees in front of it, so she felt almost as though she were perched in a bird’s nest in a rainforest. She pushed the windows wide open and breathed in deeply. It was raining—a heady, tropical rain that smelled of heat, thunder and papaya.
The furniture in this room was dark wood, the cushions colourful. She curled up on a corner of the sofa, cradling the cup in her hands, staring out at the falling rain.
An Heir Claimed By Christmas (Mills & Boon Modern) (A Billion-Dollar Singapore Christmas, Book 1) Page 11