An Heir Claimed By Christmas (Mills & Boon Modern) (A Billion-Dollar Singapore Christmas, Book 1)

by Clare Connelly

  Yet every time Dimitrios had lifted his gaze and looked at Annie, her heart had skipped a beat, her stomach had tied itself in knots and she’d felt a surge of need that had had nothing to do with Dimitrios’s paternal abilities and everything to do with him and her.

  ‘Good morning.’ She startled, shifting in the bed a little, wondering how he’d known she was awake. Usually one of them got up before the other, avoiding the intimacy of speaking while they were lying down side by side. Silly, really, given that they’d created a child together.

  She rolled over, wondering why she didn’t feel more self-conscious about her natural state—no make-up, hair a mess, wearing only a pair of pyjamas she’d had for years. Annie’s lips lifted into a small smile. ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Are you busy today?’

  Annie shook her head. She’d kept on a few clients, but the workload was much lighter than before, and she’d been able to finish up for Christmas.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Francesca is taking Max to that soccer workshop.’ He reminded her that the lovely nanny he’d hired had scheduled some holiday activities for Max—many of them with pupils from the school he’d be attending—and he was already starting to make friends. How quickly it was all falling into place!

  ‘That’s right. He was so excited about that.’

  ‘Yes.’ Dimitrios’s smile showed pride, but the way his eyes were roaming over her face made it hard to concentrate on anything except the fact there was only about eight inches between them—and how badly she wanted to close them.

  ‘So,’ he drawled, ‘I was thinking it would be a good opportunity.’

  ‘For what?’ she enquired on a snagged breath.

  ‘To go Christmas shopping.’

  It was such a perfect suggestion, she should have been excited, but there was a part of Annie that was screaming in complaint. What had she hoped he’d say—that they stay home and make love all day?

  He was waiting for her to suggest that. He’d made it obvious it would only happen if and when she said she was ready. And what if she could never screw up the courage?

  The idea of that made breathing difficult. What was she waiting for? Why wasn’t she telling him how much she wanted him?

  ‘You mentioned you’d been saving up for Max,’ he murmured, reaching out and putting a hand on hers. It was a simple touch but it sent a jolt running through her and she visibly startled, her eyes flying wide open. ‘You don’t need to worry about money. I want you to get him whatever you want. And I want to come—to help choose some gifts for him.’

  Her fingers were tingling beneath his. ‘That’s very...thoughtful. But surely you’re too busy?’

  His expression shifted a little. ‘If you’d prefer to do it alone, I understand.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, rushing to correct his misunderstanding. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said gently. ‘It’s been just you and Max for a long time. I didn’t mean to rush you. We can leave things as they have been—you do the shopping. I’ll help next year.’

  Next year. It was such a promise of permanence and longevity! It was hard to get her head around that. Besides, he was right: this would take time. He was being so reasonable and understanding, so accommodating of her needs.

  ‘It’s not that. I’d like you to come. I honestly meant what I said—that I presumed you’d be too busy.’ A frown crossed her face. ‘I don’t want you feeling that you have to rearrange your life for us.’

  A pause followed, then he leaned closer. ‘I don’t feel that I have to. I want to.’

  Lightness spread through her; a smile followed. ‘Then let’s do it.’

  At some point since Sydney, he’d stopped thinking of her as Lewis’s sister. He’d stopped thinking of her as a mistake from his past and started seeing her as she was. And Annabelle Papandreo was completely captivating. His eyes followed as she browsed the toy aisle, carefully lifting boxes from the shelf, looking at them for several moments, reading the back, then more often than not replacing them in their spot. He was pushing a trolley that remained empty. If it had been up to him, it would be half-full by now. At least.

  ‘What exactly is the selection criteria?’

  She turned to face him, her smile like sunshine. His chest compressed in response. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Hit me with it.’

  She grinned. ‘Really, I’m just looking for something he’ll love.’

  Dimitrios bent down and picked up the box she’d most recently discarded. ‘And you don’t think he’d love this?’

  ‘Oh, he undoubtedly would.’

  ‘So why not get it?’

  ‘Because it’s not perfect.’

  ‘And you want to get him just one perfect gift?’

  She tilted her head to the side. ‘I usually get him a few things. The things he’s asked for and something I choose—a book, perhaps some tennis balls.’ She shrugged. ‘We used to go down to the park on weekends and play tennis, you know. He’s actually very good.’

  Dimitrios felt pride swell in his breast. Their son was good at many things. Cards, conversation, reading and, yes, he believed sports too.

  ‘And even though you could buy this store ten times over and not see a dent in your bank account?’ he prompted.

  Her eyes grew round. ‘I’d never do that.’

  He smiled, moving closer, an urge to kiss her almost overtaking him. ‘I know.’

  ‘I guess I don’t want him to feel like his life has changed too much.’

  Dimitrios bit back a laugh; Annabelle didn’t. The sound was self-mocking. ‘I know how ridiculous that sounds. I mean, look where we’re living. I had to ask the housekeeper to stop making his bed the other day because that’s a job Max has always done for himself.’ Her smile was rueful. ‘I just don’t want him to get used to all this. To think it’s normal.’

  That sent a jolt of warning through Dimitrios. ‘What’s wrong with getting used to it?’ Only, she didn’t need to voice the fear she had. It was obvious to him. He moved closer then, pressing his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face to his. ‘We’re married now, Annabelle. None of this is going away.’

  Her eyes were suddenly suspiciously moist. His chest felt as if a bag of cement were pressing down on it.

  ‘I know you say that, but...’

  A tear formed on her lashes, making them clump together. He was conscious of holding his breath as she searched for the right words. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. ‘Everyone’s always gone away.’

  Her eyes didn’t meet his and he was glad. He wasn’t sure what his expression would show, but he felt as though she’d reached into his chest and hollowed him out.

  She was right.

  Lewis had died. And then her parents had moved to Perth. Then he’d got her pregnant and disappeared out of her life into a world that, to a teenaged Annabelle, must have seemed like a million miles away.

  She’d been alone for ever, fighting her own corner, looking after her son all by herself. No wonder she felt as if all this might be transient.

  ‘This is for keeps.’

  Her smile was brief. Dismissive. He shook his head and moved closer. ‘I don’t make promises I don’t mean.’

  Her eyes lifted to his and he felt a thousand and one things slamming into him. Mostly, he wanted to make her smile again, to make her truly happy. She was the mother of his child, so that was only natural. How could Max thrive if he didn’t have a happy mum?

  ‘Think about it, Annabelle. Why would I have suggested we get married if it wasn’t a permanent arrangement?’

  She nodded awkwardly. ‘I know. You could have taken Max away from me without breaking a sweat.’ Her eyes were troubled at the prospect of that. ‘I’m grateful you didn’t.’

  ‘I don’t want
your gratitude.’

  Her eyes held the hint of a challenge. ‘What do you want, then?’

  Great question. The answer was harder to voice than it should have been. ‘I want to take it one day at a time, but I know I want you and Max here with me. Or wherever I am. It just feels...right.’

  It was how they’d described the night they’d spent together. It was a word that kept coming up when they spoke. ‘Right’. It was right that they’d got married. Right that they’d come to Singapore.

  She pulled away from him, nodding vaguely, a smile on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Yes, okay.’ She reached out and grabbed a box, putting it in the trolley. ‘Maybe this one.’

  She hadn’t even looked at the gift to see what it was.

  Frustration zipped inside Dimitrios. He’d disappointed her. He’d given the wrong answer. What had she expected him to say? What had she wanted?

  He ground his teeth together, following just a little behind her, his eyes scanning the rows of gifts.

  Half an hour later, Annabelle had chosen a few more, with more care, each assessed for several minutes until, with a small nod, she’d decided they were suitable and had slipped them into the trolley. It was hardly what Dimitrios would describe as a ‘haul’. A remote-controlled car, a motorised train for Max’s train set and a soccer shirt.

  They’d agreed they didn’t want to spoil him, yet as Dimitrios’s first Christmas with Max he found it hard not to throw every damned toy into the trolley. The idea of Max waking up to see the tree littered with presents with his name on them made Dimitrios feel all warm inside.

  But their first instincts had been right. He was a great kid. Kind, generous, loving, happy. There was no need to fill his world with material things. Besides, he was living in a mansion with an army of staff at his disposal, his every whim catered for. Normal life was in his rear-view mirror, and Dimitrios knew for himself how unsettling that change was to make.

  ‘You know,’ he said as they left the department store and entered the opulent walkway of the mall, decorated for Christmas almost as thoroughly as his home. ‘I’ve been thinking about your law degree.’

  ‘I didn’t get a law degree,’ she reminded him.

  ‘You couldn’t, because of Max. But he’s at school now, and you don’t need to work—or not as many hours as you have been. You could study, if you wanted.’

  Her surprise was evident, as though it hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘I could, couldn’t I?’

  Something lifted inside him, his mood shifting. It was just what she needed to underscore the permanence of this. A life outside him and Max—a life that would fulfil her and make her happy. ‘Lewis always said you were the smartest person he’d ever met.’

  Her eyes flashed to his, showing happiness. ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yeah. Present company included.’

  She was smiling properly now, the look on her face making him feel a thousand kilograms lighter.

  ‘I’d want to see Max settled into school properly first,’ she was murmuring. ‘But after the first term, once I knew he was making friends and doing okay, then I wouldn’t feel so bad about doing something for me.’

  ‘And it doesn’t have to be law. You could study whatever you want.’

  She laughed. ‘You don’t have to sell me on it, Dimitrios. I get it. It’s a good idea.’ Her voice was warm and soft. She slowed down a little, and emotion sparked in her eyes once more. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me.’

  She lifted her shoulders. ‘It wouldn’t have occurred to me. And I love the idea.’

  ‘Great. I’ll have one of my assistants look into it.’

  She shook her head reproachfully, a smile making her eyes sparkle. ‘I can look into it myself.’

  Relief flooded him. ‘Keep me posted?’

  ‘Can I open them yet?’

  ‘Almost.’ Dimitrios grinned, his hands covering Annabelle’s eyes, his body guiding her carefully across the marina.

  ‘I can smell the ocean salt.’

  ‘Very perceptive.’

  ‘You’re not going to throw me to the sharks, are you?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  She laughed. ‘I’m serious, Dimitrios. Where are we?’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at surprises?’

  ‘I’ve had enough surprises to last a lifetime,’ she said in a droll tone that made him grin. He’d been smiling a lot today, after the heavy emotion of that morning, when she’d confessed her fear that he’d go away just like everyone else had. They’d strolled the mall, window-shopped and Annabelle had shown utter shock at the price of several things. He loved how down to earth she was and wondered if that would change, given her net worth now. Lunch had been at one of his favourite restaurants, and then they’d gone to a gallery, where Annabelle had shown an impressive knowledge of modern artists.

  The idea to come here had been spur of the moment. Deep down, Dimitrios admitted to himself that he hadn’t been ready for their outing to come to an end. It was a good opportunity to get to know her better, he told himself.

  ‘Okay, almost time.’

  At the premier yacht club of Singapore, his boat stood several feet longer and taller than any other. He brought her to a stop at its stern, then slowly eased his hands away from her eyes, letting them drop to her shoulders and mould to her warm skin.

  ‘Can I open my eyes now?’

  He looked down at her and something jerked hard inside him, a feeling he couldn’t place, a sense of importance and need that he had no idea how to rationalise.

  ‘Yeah, open your eyes.’ He cleared his throat, moving his hands and stepping to her side so he could see her reaction.

  A divot formed between her brows as she scanned the boats before giving his more attention.

  ‘The Patricia?’ she asked with a raised brow.

  ‘My mother.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Her smile was gently teasing. He nudged her with his shoulder in response.

  ‘What? Not cool enough for you?’

  ‘It’s...’ She sobered, shaking her head.

  Frustration hit him. He didn’t want her to close herself off from him. ‘It’s what?’

  ‘Sweet.’ But her tone was reserved; clipped.

  He suppressed his impatience. ‘Want to go on board?’

  She looked at him for several seconds and he felt as though the world had stopped spinning. He waited, wondering when he’d become someone who sat back and waited rather than just calling all the shots. Wasn’t he the kind of man who ordinarily would have said, ‘Let’s go on the yacht?’ Nonetheless, he found himself standing there silently, watchful but not speaking, all his attention focussed on Annabelle.

  She turned back to the yacht, her expression impossible to interpret. ‘Just for a minute.’

  His response was to reach down and take her hand, lacing their fingers together as he guided her to the swim platform.

  The wind in Annie’s hair made her feel as if she could do anything. She gripped the railing, looking back at Singapore with a sense of lightness and happiness that, contradictorily, made her anxious. She was getting too relaxed, enjoying herself too much. She had to remember that this was all pretend. Even when he was being so ridiculously attentive and sweet, and making her feel as though she was the centre of his universe, it wasn’t about Annie so much as Max. All of this was for Max.

  Dimitrios wanted them to be happy here, and he knew a big part of that was making Annie happy, so he was being accommodating. It wasn’t about her. He was doing what he had to do to protect his son.

  The lightness disappeared a little and she felt glad. Better to be aware of her situation at all times than to simply relax and enjoy.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  She hadn’t realised Dimitrios had joined her; s
he’d been lost in her own thoughts. She startled a little, turning to face him, then wishing she hadn’t. He’d changed into a pair of swimming trunks, a turquoise that made his tan glow like gold, and she found it almost impossible not to let her eyes drop to the expanse of his toned chest. Dark hair arrowed towards his shorts and in the periphery of her vision she followed it then felt heat bloom in her cheeks.

  ‘Do I like...what?’ Her voice sounded so thick and hoarse. She cleared her throat but knew it wouldn’t help.

  ‘The yacht.’

  ‘Oh.’ She nodded. ‘Yes.’

  His grin showed white teeth. She jerked her head away, but it didn’t help. His image was seared into her eyeballs. His proximity made her pulse go haywire.

  ‘Are you going swimming?’ The question sounded so prim! She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could be effortlessly cool and unimpressed.

  ‘If you’ll join me.’

  She glanced down at the dark ocean. It was a warm day but the idea of jumping off the back of the boat didn’t appeal to her. He lightly pressed a finger to her elbow then ran it down her forearm, teasing her flesh before taking hold of her wrist and lifting it, pointing towards the top of the yacht.

  ‘Up there.’

  Closer inspection showed that the top of the yacht had deck chairs, and she could only surmise a pool at its centre.

  ‘You don’t think we should be getting back?’ They’d been on board for half an hour. ‘Just to see the city from a distance.’

  ‘Max is fine. Francesca’s with him.’

  Dimitrios was right; Annie knew that. Her desire to return to the safety and space of his house had nothing to do with Max and everything to do with the fact she was finding it almost impossible not to obey her body’s increasingly demanding needs.