‘We’ll be back around midday, Maman,’ Chantelle said as they walked out to the car.
‘After an early lunch,’ Dimitri added, and incurred Chantelle’s swift denial.
‘Samuel has a nap after lunch.’
‘I’ll have you home in time to settle him down.’ He collected the junior safety seat and set it in place on the rear seat of his car, then he stood back as she lifted Samuel into it and secured the safety strap.
‘I’ll sit beside Samuel,’ she declared as she straightened, only to have Dimitri indicate the front seat.
‘Chérie,’ Anouk intervened gently, ‘he’ll be fine.’
Maternal chastisement…or was Anouk bent on some subtle arrangement of her own?
Anouk couldn’t help but be aware of her daughter’s reticence, and God help him…Dimitri had to know she didn’t favour spending several hours in his company.
Chantelle flashed each of them a stunning smile. She could do gracious…she just had to remember she was doing it for Samuel.
‘Andreas suggested the water theme park at Coomera as a fun place for children,’ Dimitri offered.
‘There’s lots of water. We got wet. Maman too,’ Samuel endorsed with childish enthusiasm, and Dimitri chuckled.
‘I gather he’s already been there?’
‘Once,’ Chantelle admitted, unwilling to offer it was his favourite place.
‘In that case, we’re guaranteed he’ll enjoy himself.’
We…there’s no we, she wanted to deny, and almost did, except Samuel’s immediate presence stopped her. Later, she promised herself, she’d correct Dimitri’s assumption.
The theme park was well-patronised, given it was the long midsummer school break and there was a host of visiting tourists to the area.
‘Maman, we can go up there, oui? Please.’
Up there meant exchanging her jeans and top for a swimsuit. An action she normally wouldn’t think about twice, if Dimitri hadn’t been there.
She was acutely conscious of him, aware of his slightest touch, the warmth of his smile. Hell, he knew how to work it! Charm, he had it in spades. Four years ago she’d have believed it genuine. Now she wasn’t so sure.
‘Why don’t I take him?’
Chantelle felt all her protective instincts rise to the fore. ‘I don’t think—’
‘Dimitri,’ Samuel sanctioned without a care in the world, and lifted his arms to be picked up, surprising her.
‘Are you sure?’ she queried dubiously, and gained an affirmative nod in response.
‘Sure.’
‘OK, champ, let’s get rid of some clothes and go test the water.’
Her son’s almost unconditional acceptance made her wonder if there was any truth in some deep recognition of shared genes.
Dimitri turned towards her. ‘Why not join us?’
‘Next time.’ It would give her valuable minutes to steel herself to strip down to a swimsuit. Which was ridiculous.
Samuel was in his element as he took to the junior water slide, returning again and again as he delighted in the ride.
Chantelle almost convinced herself she was only watching her son, but it was the man catching him after each downward slide that held her attention longer than it should.
‘Can we go up there?’ Samuel begged as they returned to her side. ‘Dimitri said I must have your permission.’
Oh, he did, did he? Well, she could hardly say no, when only a few days ago she’d taken Samuel up there herself.
It was a much larger slide with curves and covered sections, rushing water, and children under a certain age were only permitted to take the ride with the supervision of an adult.
They placed their outer clothes in lockers, then joined the queue for the more advanced ride.
When it became their turn Dimitri went in first and Chantelle followed with Samuel positioned closely between her thighs.
It was fun, and when they reached the end Dimitri rose lithely to his feet and caught Samuel, extending a hand to help Chantelle to her feet.
‘Can we do it again, please?’
How easy it was to please a child. And how innocent Samuel appeared to be to the undercurrents between the two adults accompanying him.
As Chantelle looked at both child and man, the physical likeness between them was striking, and she glimpsed a vision of what the child would look like when he grew into a man.
Did Samuel possess any of her physical qualities? It was difficult to tell as the facial bone structure underwent a gradual change during the formative years. The dark hair perhaps, but then Dimitri’s hair was equally dark.
This time out, Chantelle headed the downward ride, with Samuel held firmly in Dimitri’s grasp, and afterwards they took a break for drinks and a snack.
There could be little doubt Samuel was having a ball, and neither his energy nor his enthusiasm lagged as Chantelle and Dimitri indulged him with several of the rides the theme park had to offer.
To his credit he didn’t protest when it came time to change into dry clothes and leave. He remembered without prompting to thank Dimitri for bringing him to visit.
‘I have a picnic hamper in the car,’ Dimitri relayed as they made their way to the parking area. ‘There’s a picnic reserve at Paradise Point where we can eat.’
Casual, laid-back, it was a relaxed way to end the morning.
Except Chantelle was the antithesis of relaxed! She’d found it difficult when they’d been amongst a number of people, but isolated into an intimate group of three on the sandy foreshore at the picnic reserve only heightened her emotional tension.
Samuel ate well, and when he finished he drifted the few feet to the sand, where he became industriously immersed in collecting shells.
‘Has it been such a hardship?’
She sipped the chilled mineral water as Dimitri packed what remained of the food into the cooler.
‘Samuel had a great time.’
‘And you?’
Chantelle looked at him. ‘What do you want me to say?’ He was close, much too close. ‘I appreciate you’re bent on turning my personal world upside-down? Thank the universe for throwing us together at the same place at the same time?’ She was on a roll, and went with it. ‘Thank you for forming an empathy with my son? An empathy I’ll have to explain can only be rekindled at intervals we agree upon, or, failing that, as the law courts decree?’
‘Why not take it one day at a time?’
‘Whichever way I take it,’ she declared with soft vehemence, ‘the end result will be the same.’
‘Will it?’ He regarded her steadily, and the depth of his gaze tested the fragile tenure of her control. ‘You can’t perceive there might be a solution?’
‘Maman.’
Suddenly Samuel was there, his hands cupped as he held a collection of shells, and Chantelle rose quickly to her feet and went to help him, infinitely relieved at his interruption.
‘We will take them back for Grandmère, oui?’
‘Indeed. She will treasure them.’ She reached into her backpack and retrieved a plastic bag. ‘We’ll wash them when we get home.’
Within minutes she brushed the sand from his feet, slid on his joggers and cleaned his hands, aware that Dimitri replaced the cooler into the car, then followed it with the rug.
They were only five minutes from Sovereign Islands, and Samuel’s eyes were drooping as Dimitri pulled into her parents’ driveway.
Retreating was relatively easy as she slid from the car, collected her backpack, and moved to retrieve Samuel from his junior car seat.
‘I’ll take him.’
‘It’s OK.’ Please, just let me get him and leave.
She badly needed to subside into her own space, as far away as possible from his. The morning had been a success, as far as Samuel was concerned. For her, it had dented the protective wall she’d built up around herself four years ago when survival of self had become paramount in her life.
‘I’ll be in touch.’<
br />
Was that a threat or a promise? She felt too disturbed to examine the ramifications of either.
‘Thanks.’ The gratitude was a mere facsimile, and one he recognised as her return to polite formality.
‘My pleasure.’
He slid in behind the wheel, ignited the engine, and waited until she went indoors before reversing down the driveway.
CHAPTER FOUR
AN INVITATION to a mid-week cocktail party numbered the second party in five days. Which was something of a record for Chantelle, for, while she recognised the necessity for childcare during her working hours, she rarely employed a baby-sitter for anything other than an important social obligation.
Choosing what to wear didn’t pose a problem, and, pre-warned by Anouk to pack evening wear, Chantelle selected black silk evening trousers, added a matching camisole and a black chiffon silk wrap threaded with gold. Stiletto heels, minimum jewellery, understated make-up, her hair swept into a smooth twist, and the overall look completed an image that met with her approval.
‘We’re going to another party?’ Samuel queried as she brushed his hair, then straightened his shirt.
‘Yes. Grandmère has many friends, and you, mon enfant, are her only grandchild. She wants to show you off.’ She dropped a kiss on top of his head, then drew him close for a hug. ‘There will be other children there, and you’ll have fun, I promise,’ she reassured.
‘OK.’
His smile was matched by her own. ‘Let’s go.’
Would Dimitri be a fellow guest? She hoped not. She didn’t want to cope with his disturbing presence.
Half an hour later she entered the opulent lounge in their host’s luxurious home, after being greeted and introduced to the host’s nanny and ensuring Samuel was comfortably settled in the downstairs playroom with six other young children.
Dimitri was unmistakable, standing on the far side of the room, not so much for his height and breadth of shoulder, the sculpted facial structure, or the expensive cut of his clothes.
It went deeper than that, combining a raw sexuality with electrifying passion; the inherent knowledge of how to pleasure a woman. A quality women recognised and many sought in a discreet bid for his attention. And there were the not-so-discreet few…of whom Daniella Fabrizi topped the list!
Damn. Why did the actress’s name have to enter the equation?
Almost as if Dimitri sensed her presence he turned, and his dark, gleaming gaze locked with hers, held, as she offered a polite smile in acknowledgement of his presence before turning away.
He was something else. She cursed a vivid memory of how it felt to be in his arms, the sensations he was able to evoke in her without any effort at all. She was the instrument, he the master virtuoso, creating a sensual music that was uniquely theirs as they became lost in each other. Primitive, intensely passionate, he’d aroused emotions she hadn’t known existed. And afterwards the degree of tendresse he displayed in the aftermath of a wildly erotic lovemaking always undid her.
Even now, she was intensely aware of him. The feel and touch of him, the satiny textured skin, the rough hairs on his chest arrowing down to the nest couching his manhood.
There had been no one else since him. No man of her acquaintance had aroused the slightest spark of sexual interest.
Introspection could become a dangerous pastime, and with deliberate ease Chantelle mixed and mingled with fellow guests, exerting her social skills without seeming effort as she greeted people she’d met at the party Anouk and Jean-Paul had hosted a few evenings ago.
‘Let me get you another drink,’ a familiar voice drawled close by, and her heart-rate went into overdrive as she turned to meet Dimitri’s musing gaze.
‘Not at the moment, thanks,’ she said politely, aware of the faint aroma of his exclusive cologne. He was close, much too close, and she shifted slightly, gaining a much-needed inch or two of personal space.
‘Samuel is downstairs?’
She was nervous, and that fascinated him. The tiny pulse at the base of her throat throbbed at an increased beat, and he resisted the temptation to soothe it.
‘Yes.’
‘Relax, pedhaki mou,’ he bade gently, and saw those beautiful eyes flash momentary anger. ‘Save the indignation for when we’re alone.’
The affectionate ‘little one’ got to her, for it brought back too many memories…of love, laughter, and exquisite sex.
‘Now, there’s the thing,’ Chantelle responded coolly. ‘I have no intention of being alone with you.’
‘You don’t envisage a truce?’
‘What did you expect? That a rehashing of the day we parted would magically wipe the slate clean?’ She kept her voice low. ‘If you dare suggest the necessity is for Samuel’s sake, I’ll hit you.’
Something moved in those dark eyes, something she couldn’t define, and sudden apprehension slithered the length of her spine.
‘Be aware of the consequences of such an action,’ Dimitri cautioned with chilling softness.
‘You’re all charm.’
A slow smile curved his generous mouth. ‘And you’re a piece of work.’
‘How nice we understand each other.’ She held out her glass. ‘Perhaps I will have another drink.’ Her smile was a mere facsimile. ‘It’s a spritzer.’
Chantelle waited until he turned towards the bar before slipping from the lounge to check on Samuel. The happy laughter echoing from the playroom provided reassurance, and she watched unobserved as the children interacted together.
He looked so relaxed and content, and her heart went into meltdown. Nothing, she promised silently, and no one could be permitted to upset his secure world.
At that moment he lifted his head and saw her framed in the doorway.
‘Maman!’ He ran towards her, and his pleasure stirred her heartstrings. ‘We are leaving?’
For a moment she sensed his disappointment, and hid a smile. He was a very sociable little boy. ‘Not yet.’
‘Good. I’m having fun.’ He caught hold of her hand, his face a study of round-eyed excitement. ‘Damian and Joshua are going to the park tomorrow to see the dolphins.’
‘We will go to watch the dolphins one day, too.’
‘We will? When, Maman?’
‘Perhaps we could make it tomorrow,’ Dimitri suggested from close behind her. ‘If that suits your mother.’
He possessed the stealthy tread of a cat, for she hadn’t heard a sound, and she steeled herself against his close proximity.
‘Please say we can, Maman,’ Samuel pleaded. ‘I do so much want to see the sea lions too. Damian says they bark, and wave. And the dolphins jump out of the water.’
Chantelle didn’t want to disappoint him, but the thought of spending several hours in Dimitri’s company didn’t appeal. ‘Perhaps,’ she qualified. ‘But first we must check with Grandmère. We are her guests, oui?’
Hope, patience, resignation passed fleetingly over his features. ‘Oui, Maman.’ For an instant his expression brightened. ‘Grandmère and Jean-Paul can come too.’ He turned towards Dimitri. ‘Can’t they?’
‘Of course.’ His smile was genuinely warm as he hunkered down to Samuel’s eye level. ‘But first, Maman must ensure there are no other plans for tomorrow, hmm?’
‘Oui.’ He looked up at his mother. ‘May I go play now?’
‘Enjoy, mon petit. I’ll come collect you when we’re ready to leave.’
She watched him rejoin the other children, then she turned and made her way to the stairs, uncaring whether Dimitri followed or not.
‘You could have consulted me first,’ Chantelle said in an angry undertone as he joined her.
‘Only for you to refuse?’
His indolent drawl raised her anger level a notch. ‘Look—’
‘We agreed I should spend time with Samuel.’
Chantelle paused and turned to face him. ‘It was more like you issued an ultimatum.’
‘You want difficult, Chantelle? I can give you
difficult.’
She could see the purpose evident, the dangerous inflexibility apparent. He had the wealth and the power to command top-flight lawyers to produce suitable documentation with breakneck speed.
‘I want what’s best for my son.’
‘Then we’re in total agreement.’
He was the limit, and she told him so. ‘I wish—’
‘I hadn’t chosen to spend this Christmas with Andreas?’
‘Yes! Damn you,’ she vented, hating him.
He looked at her long and hard. ‘Are you done?’
Her head tilted and her eyes sparked brilliant fire. ‘For now.’
‘Good.’
She was unprepared for the way his head lowered down to hers, and before she could move his mouth closed over hers in an evocative kiss.
His hands cupped her face as he went in deep, savoured, then he slid a hand down her spine and pulled her in close against him.
Oh, dear God. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to, as all her senses went every which way but loose and she began to respond.
In the recess of her mind she knew she should resist, but it felt so good. Dear heaven, how she’d missed his touch, the feel of him.
His arousal was a potent force, and she gave a sigh in protest as he began to retreat, gentling his mouth until his lips lingered briefly before he lifted his head.
For a moment she was lost, unaware of where she was, only that she was with him. Then reality descended, and confusion clouded her eyes, leaving them vulnerable for a few seconds before she managed to mask their expression.
‘That was unforgivable.’
Dimitri pressed a finger to her slightly swollen mouth.
‘I hate you.’
‘No,’ he said gently. ‘You don’t.’ He traced a finger over her lower lip. ‘You hate having to admit even to yourself that what we once shared together is as strong now as it was four years ago.’
Oh, dear heaven, why did he have to be so right?
Yet she’d known the instant she set eyes on him again the emotions she’d harboured for him had never lessened.
Acknowledging it didn’t mean she had to like it. And nothing, she determined, nothing would allow her to run a repeat. That way lay heartache and despair. She’d been there, done that, and had no intention of doing it again.
12 Stocking Stuffers Page 89