by Dani Collins
“Don’t you dare act as if I’m the only one using someone!” She clenched her fists. “You only brought me here so you could look like the rest of them! I set my expectations very low. I’ve never had any other choice, but don’t ask me to marry you just so you have a child to take to the family picnic.”
“Because I’m that shallow,” he said, throwing himself onto his feet, naked and furious, striding past her to walk out and find his pants in the lounge. Jamming his legs into them, he shouted, “You know what you want, Natalie? For me to be as self-involved and unreliable as your dad and your husband so you can tell yourself we’re all alike and push us away. You can’t count on others if you never do, you know. But you just love being responsible for everything, don’t you? Well, good news, sweetheart. This one’s all on you.”
He slammed out of the suite.
* * *
Someone sat down beside him at the bar.
Nic.
Demitri silently swore. Things were just getting better and better.
Nic caught the bartender’s eye and motioned to the drink in front of Demitri, indicating he wanted the same.
“Take mine. I don’t want it,” Demitri said, sliding it over a few inches. All his old coping strategies were shot and he hadn’t found new ones beyond talking things out with Natalie, and he was so furious with her...
And so hurt...
End up divorced. Fantasy.
Nic didn’t touch the drink. Didn’t say anything. Only settled onto the stool, forearms on the bar, key card rotating on its edge between his fingers and thumb against the mahogany. His tuxedo jacket was gone along with his bow tie, his shirt untucked.
“Come to tell me you didn’t like my talking to your wife behind your back?” Demitri guessed.
“No,” Nic said with a measure of surprise, click-clicking the card against the glossed wood. “I didn’t like it, but that’s not why I’m here. Natalie called our suite. She wanted to come get Zoey— It’s okay,” he said at Demitri’s curse, holding up a hand. “Ro talked her into letting the kids sleep till morning. She was inviting her over for a glass of wine when I left. I figured there weren’t too many places a man goes when he’s had it out with a woman. Found you on the first try.”
“And why would you want to, Nic?” Demitri asked tiredly. It was late, Demitri was thinking. Far too late for this.
Nic pursed his mouth in thought, profile not unlike Theo’s. Something in his features reminded Demitri of an old photo Adara had of their maternal grandfather. It was so odd. Made him feel less as though Nic was a complete stranger, even though he was.
“You didn’t have to go behind my back, you know. You could have come to me,” Nic said.
Demitri snorted, shook his head, baffled by the whole thing. He thought of Natalie telling him he had a right to his confusion and had to ask, “Why would I expect you to help me? Can I ask you something, Nic? And be honest. Do you remember me? Because I’ve got nothing.”
Nic flinched, making Demitri feel as if he’d accidentally run over the guy’s dog.
“Why would you remember me? You were a baby,” Nic said, picking up the untouched drink and smelling it. Sipping once. “Yeah, I remember you. You liked to take your clothes off. Made us laugh.”
Demitri choked on a chuckle. Couldn’t help it. True to form, he thought, and immediately wanted to repeat the story to Natalie. It was the sort of thing that would make her laugh.
God, he loved her laugh. Loved her. Hell.
“Does Natalie know about any of that? What we came from?” Nic asked.
“She’s the only one I’ve ever talked to about it.” Something twisted in his chest, reaching out to her across the walls and floors, trying to get to her. He’d thought she understood him. Accepted him.
Nic’s thumb worked the edge of the glass, nodded. “Yeah, it looked as if you two were pretty close. What happened?”
“Man, you really are an investigative journalist, aren’t you?”
“Just trying to help,” Nic said, turning his head and looking disturbingly sincere. “She seems like a good person. I don’t think you would have walked out on the family business over a woman you didn’t love. Did you tell her?”
The word was like a knife to the heart. “She said it wasn’t enough,” he said, feeling the blade twist in his chest. He was a fantasy. Not real. A vehicle for pleasure, not a man of substance—exactly what he’d always portrayed himself as, so he probably deserved this heartbreak he was suffering, but he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t know how to live without her. Not anymore.
Nic swore under his breath. “She does not look like the kind of woman who would dice up a man when he laid it out like that.”
As Nic’s words penetrated, Demitri frowned. Eyed Nic. “No, that was something she said when she was talking about why she never wanted to remarry. I didn’t actually tell her...”
He sounded like an idiot even to himself. He’d been so busy trying to protect himself, he’d left her hanging with her own declaration.
“I screwed up, didn’t I?” For once not deliberately.
“Kinda sounds like it.” Nic scratched under his chin. “Did you propose?”
Demitri winced. Longed for the days when he messed up and didn’t care. Didn’t feel it like broken glass coursing through his veins.
“Not with a ring. Not properly,” he admitted.
A big breath expanded Nic’s chest. He blew it out slowly. “I’m no advice columnist, but I’ve proofed a few,” he said drily. “Here’s the thing I do know. If you want to win a woman, you have to go all in. Give her everything you’ve got. Pride. Self-worth. Heart. Soul. All of it. Nothing held back.”
“I wish it was that easy,” Demitri said, thinking of how hard it was to get Natalie to accept anything. That last accusation of his, about her always wanting to be responsible for everything, not counting on anyone, had been true. In his experience, women expected men’s wallets to be opened on their behalf. He had never understood Natalie’s deference and protests and putting of others first.
I set my expectations very low...
He’d heard that differently, thinking she was referring to him, too furious about the fantasy remark to process anything properly, but as he thought about why and how she’d become such a little soldier about responsibility, he saw a girl who’d been pressed into service and neglected in her own way. He wondered how many times she had wanted to go to the movies with friends, or continue her ice dancing, and her mother had had to say no. Not by choice, but because Natalie was needed. She didn’t resent it, he knew, but life had cheated her so many times. Even her young-adult years of pursuing her education and making mistakes with boys had only lasted one night. Long enough to get pregnant, grow up and never do anything for herself again.
Except steal a few days in France. Other than that, she probably hadn’t had a selfish moment in her life. Even her heart, her love, had been given away without her daring to ask for something in return.
Of course she loved him. Of course the words would mean something to her, if they were said with sincerity. The way she loved her daughter, her dead family, was fierce and enduring. She would love him, Demitri, until the end of time, and he was privileged, honored, to realize she’d come to feel such an emotion toward him.
“Thanks, Nic,” he said, slapping his brother on the shoulder as he rose, hardened with purpose. “I know what to do.” Throwing a few bills on the bar for the drink, he added, “Don’t let her leave with Zoey before I get there.”
* * *
Natalie wanted to shrink away and die, but Zoey had misplaced her bunny somewhere in Nic and Rowan’s suite and refused to leave without it.
Rowan had urged Natalie to sleep on things last night, but when Natalie had dragged her sorry, unrested body out of bed, the suite had still been empty. Now she just wanted to collect her daughter and head back to Canada on whichever transport her credit card could afford.
But it wasn’t happening.
And she was starting to see why Demitri found the Makricosta collective so annoying with their inclusive remarks and their cheery engagement with all the children. Everyone showed up for a brunch that Rowan insisted Natalie share with them. Demitri’s absence was explained as “having run out for something,” and her daughter was being treated as if she’d been born into their ranks.
Natalie mumbled something about too much champagne to explain her sullen mood and hid behind the challenge of cutting up enough waffle to keep the boys busy with their blunt plastic forks.
All she wanted was to be gone before Demitri showed up—not that she really expected him to turn up here. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t be coming to see her.
The door clicked and all the adult voices dried up, telling her that for all their lighthearted banter, they all knew she and Demitri had blown up last night.
Footsteps came toward her, but she stayed seated at the table, frozen with her back to him, begging lightning to strike her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Demitri grumbled to someone. “I’m fixing it.”
His hand came into her averted field of vision, gently taking the knife out of her hand, then the fork.
She dropped her head into her hands, covering her eyes. Hiding.
“Come on, Natalie,” he said, not angry or aggressive. Firm, but tender. His touch on her shoulder was insistent. “We need to talk.”
“Mom?” her daughter questioned, becoming aware of adult attention falling on Natalie and Demitri.
“It’s okay, gumdrop. I just need to talk to her for a minute. We’ll be right back,” Demitri said in that voice that almost sounded... No, she wouldn’t tell herself it was loving. “Come on,” he urged Natalie. “Or do you want to do it here?”
No.
She rose, vaguely aware of Theo handing Demitri something as they left, only realizing after Demitri had guided her down to the end of the hall that it had been a security card. They entered a private lounge, silent and still, that was probably used for weddings and private dinners. It had a wet bar off to the side and a handful of trendy backless sofas sprinkled throughout. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view across Central Park to die for, sunlight glancing off it from a low angle that made it sparkle under the glitter of light snow.
“What I said last night...” she managed in a strained voice, hardly able to face him. “I didn’t mean it to sound as though being part of your family isn’t good enough for me. Of course they’re wonderful. Zoey...” Already meshed. She wished...
“I’d say forget my family, but I don’t want you to forget them. They’re as much a part of what I’m offering you as I am. They already care about you, Natalie. They’re your backup plan, and they’re never going to let me get away with hurting you. Not that I’ll let myself get away with it,” he muttered.
“Because you’re afraid of their disapproval? That’s what I meant last night!” She clenched her hands, turning to glance warily at him, holding her breath to try to get through this without busting open.
“I’ve had nothing but their disapproval all my life. I’m used to it. No,” he said firmly. “Their approval is the last thing I was trying to get when I asked you to marry me. I want your love, Natalie.”
His words wrung her heart like a wet rag. And scared her, because once her heart was involved, she was a pushover. She shook her head, trying to stop him from continuing, but he approached with purpose. Determination.
“You love me.” He was a fallen angel, brutally handsome, sweetly attentive as he committed his cruelty with delicate care, ambling forward so he stood directly in front of her. He tilted up her chin so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “That wasn’t part of the fantasy. It’s real. Your love is mine, Natalie. And I won’t let you show it to me, then refuse to give it to me. I want it. I’m taking it.”
She caught back a sob, eyes on fire as she searched for a place to look. Her lips quivered and her throat thickened.
“And I’m going to give you my love so you can show me how to make it better and stronger.”
She blinked, trying to see him through her swimming eyes, certain she’d misheard.
His hand cupped her cheek, and he wiped the tears brimming her lashes. “You’re going to accept my love, Natalie. You’re going to let me give you everything you need. And if I miss something, you’re going to tell me so I can do it right.”
“It’s not that easy. Zoey—”
“You’ll help me do right by her, too. And any kids we make together.”
“But—”
“No, listen. I realize that your mom put Gareth first. I know she had no choice, but what did that teach you? That your needs come second. Don’t throw Zoey at me and tell me she trumps your right to be happy. You don’t have to settle for a few weeks of fantasy, Natalie. You can have this all the time. You can have me. You can have a man who pays the bills and sends Zoey to expensive schools and tells you to work for my brother if you want to, not because you have to. I’m going to open my firm in Montreal and stick around, whether you want me there or not, because I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.”
His words caught and rent deep in her chest, where secret dreams like ice dancing and husbands who came home resided. Where every aspect of her life wasn’t all on her. It was a joint venture. A loving, laughing partnership that she’d convinced herself she didn’t need.
But she wanted.
So badly.
Was this really happening?
Her brow crinkled as he dug a velvet box out of his pocket and offered her its contents. A diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”
Natalie began to tremble all over, but with a kind of joy that made the world look sprinkled in fairy dust.
“You could have anyone. You know that, right?” she managed to stammer.
“Natalie, you are the only woman I have ever loved. The only one I’ve ever proposed to. You could have anyone, and I will never look lightly on the fact that you are willing to take me. Are you? Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she admitted in a whisper, as though she was confiding it to Santa.
He took the ring and threaded it onto her finger. It was incredibly tasteful, of course. The man could be outrageous, but never tacky or ostentatious.
He kissed her knuckles, then her lips. She clung to the connection, trembling, still not quite believing, but the sweetness of his kiss filled her up so no empty spaces were left.
“I do love you,” she told him, awed and humbled by the gratitude and thrill she read in his eyes.
“I love you, too,” he said against her lips, pulling her close to crush her with careful arms. Heads tilted together, they both smiled so big they could barely kiss, hearts battering against each other.
“Thank you for coming back,” she said sheepishly.
“Always,” he promised.
“Should we tell them?” she asked him after they’d shared a few more kisses.
“I want to see Zoey’s reaction,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “I’m crazy about her, you know. She’s as easy to love as her mother.”
Their faces must have told the story. The minute they appeared, beaming and glued to each other’s side, everyone clapped and champagne bottles were popped. Natalie showed Zoey her ring and said, “Demitri and I are getting married. What do you think of that?”
“I like it,” Zoey said, as if she’d been asked to judge the ring. “It’s pretty. If you get married, does that mean you can have a baby? ’Cause I want a little brother.”
EPILOGUE
NATALIE EMERGED TO typical chaos in the back garden of Rosedale, Nic and Rowan’s Greek island home. The men were barbecuing and talking politics around watching the children. The women were back and forth to the kitchen, trying to keep everyone sunscreened, fed and hydrated.
Oh, how Natalie loved when they were all together like this. It wasn’t easy, but they made the children’s birthdays a priority and Evie’s was tomorrow.
; “Who did you find?” Demitri asked Natalie, coming forward to take their nearly three-year-old nephew, Zephyr, off her hip. He’d been cuddly while he’d still been sleepy, but now he energized as he leaped for his uncle. Demitri gave him a light toss in the air before kissing his grinning cheek. “About time you woke up, champ. Everyone’s been asking for you. Zoey,” he called across to where the children were taking turns riding down the minislide into the little wading pool. “Look who woke up.”
“Jaya’s awake, too,” Natalie said in answer to Theo’s questioning glance. “She’ll be out in a minute.” They’d all converged here this morning, but jet lag was taking its toll on some more than others.
Demitri handed off Zephyr to Zoey and came to hook his arm around Natalie’s waist, always affectionate, but especially so when he was relaxed and happy, as he was when they were around his family.
“Zoey, you don’t have to carry him,” Jaya said as she came outside and gravitated to her husband. She still sounded sleepy, and Theo cuddled her into his side, rubbing her back.
“I like to,” Zoey said, turning back with Zephyr clinging to her like a rhesus monkey. He was half her seven-year-old height and she was all bones these days, growing like a cornstalk, front teeth missing so she lisped. “I carry my other cousins all the time.” She started to turn away, then turned back again. “Mom, you said I’d probably never have cousins from you, only from Daddy. Now I have four.”
“I know. We did pretty good, eh?” Natalie said.
“We did,” Zoey said with a nod of approval, and bore her cousin away.
“Eh?” Rowan repeated in a light tease. “I used to think that was a joke, but you Canadians really say it. Even Demitri’s started.”
“How many cousins does she have on the other side?” Nic asked.
“It’s not a competition,” Natalie chided, sharing an eye-roll with the other wives. Theo was mature enough to abstain from juvenile contests, but the other three were not.
“I’m just saying, if we could assist in any way...” Nic continued innocently.