‘And you’re going to do everything for me?’ Leila confirmed as if she needed this in writing before he stood a chance of making her believe him.
‘Señorita—’ He made her a mock bow. ‘I’m going to make Christmas for you.’
‘And what do I have to do?’ She lifted a brow.
‘You have to stand there and look pretty—’
‘Pretty fat? Pretty awful?’
‘Pretty pregnant,’ he argued, dragging her into his arms. ‘And you’ve got paint on your nose,’ he murmured, brushing her lips with his.
‘Sorry—’
‘Don’t be.’ He held her at arm’s length. ‘Have you been eating while I’ve been away?’ She looked pale, he thought.
‘Of course I have.’
‘Not convinced, Leila. But I’m going to make it right. Break out the beer for me, the juice for you—’
‘And you’ll get cooking?’ Her smile lit up her face. ‘This I have to see.’
His heart soared as she laughed. ‘This you’re going to see, señorita. And while we’re on the subject of making Christmas—you haven’t done too badly yourself. You’ve added some more decorations.’
‘Do you like it?’ she said, glancing round at the traditional Scandinavian ornaments. ‘I haven’t overdone it?’
‘Are you kidding?’ He grinned. ‘Christmas can never be overdone.’
There was a big pine tree festooned with tiny bells and flags to one side of the crackling fire, and while many of the decorations appeared to be recently home-made, others were a bit battered, and obviously much loved after many outings. There was a lot of red and white fabric, which looked great against the pine walls of the cabin. The hems of the curtains, the cushions, the throws, were all heavily embroidered with dainty, though intricate, cross-stitch.
‘My grandmother’s work,’ Leila explained, seeing him looking at it. ‘They don’t come out very often, but I changed them especially for you.’
There were hearts and bells and Santa and Mrs Claus on the window ledges, and on the table an arrangement of candles, moss and berries. It was a homely setting and one that warmed him through. ‘This is quite something to live up to,’ he observed as he rolled up his sleeves. ‘I’d better get cooking—’
‘Yes, you better had. Would you like a glass of eggnog to go with that beer?’
‘I think I should keep a clear head, don’t you?’
Before she could answer him, he dragged her into his arms. ‘Happy Christmas, Leila Skavanga. Do you have any idea how much I love you?’
‘You love me?’
‘Yes, I do. Of course I do!’
She smiled cheekily at him. ‘Then I hope you can prove it again and again.’
‘In so many ways,’ he promised softly. Staring deep into Leila’s eyes, he sank into her calm, loving expression. He’d missed her so much.
‘Your last Christmas without babies,’ he commented wryly, pulling back to start cooking. ‘Make the most of it—it’s sleepless nights from here on in.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘It will be hard work.’
‘I’m looking forward to that too.’
And he wanted to be part of it—now more than ever.
He surprised himself with the array of tempting dishes he produced, and there was Christmas Day to come yet. ‘Who knows what miracles I can conjure up, now I’ve hit my stride.’
‘Modest as always, Raffa—but I have to admit, this is delicious.’ Leila laughed as she tucked in.
He hummed and adopted a thoughtful look. ‘Maybe I should take cooking up as a profession?’
Cocking her head to one side, Leila disagreed with this proposition. ‘You can’t do that. We need you down at the mine.’
‘Then I’ll take over the café.’
‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ She worked a frown. ‘Stealing my customers from the museum? We’d never get the women out of there if you were running it.’
‘And while we’re on the subject of your museum, Señorita Skavanga,’ he interrupted, seizing his chance. ‘You have to stop working there soon.’
‘When the babies come, I’ll stop.’
‘Take care you don’t give birth during one of the tours. It would give a whole new meaning to “If you’d like to follow me...”’
‘Bet no one would take me up on that one.’
‘Here—Leila. Taste.’
‘Hmm—delicious,’ she exclaimed, but quickly returned to her chosen subject. ‘I’ll know when it’s right to stop working, Raffa. I’m a good couple of weeks away.’
‘Don’t I have any say in this? Oh, yeah, wait a moment, I do,’ he drawled as Leila tipped up her chin to challenge him. ‘And if I say you stop work right after we celebrate Christmas, so you can put your feet up over New Year—’
‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you, Raffa?’
Bringing their plates to the table, he laid them down with a flourish. ‘I usually do—’
‘And so do I,’ Leila assured him, her lips set in a stubborn line. ‘And I am going to stop work when my body tells me it’s time to stop work, and not a moment sooner.’
‘Are we playing whose will is stronger?’ he suggested as he spooned some of the deliciously aromatic paella onto her plate.
‘That’s easy—I win,’ she assured him. ‘This is delicious, by the way.’
‘So you accept I can multitask?’
‘I accept you’re an exceptional man, Señor Leon—but that doesn’t mean I have to do everything you say—’
‘In bed or out of it?’
‘That’s a loaded question from a very bad man.’
‘Yes, it is,’ he agreed. ‘More paella?’
‘I could never get enough of this.’
‘Excellent—fill your mouth and be quiet for a second, because I’ve got a very important question to ask you.’
‘What are you doing on your knees? Did I drop some food on the floor?’
‘Señorita Skavanga...Leila...will you do me the honour of agreeing to become my wife?’
She froze and stared at him. And then had to chew double fast and swallow before she could exclaim, ‘Are you serious?’
‘Would I be down here on the floor for any other reason?’
‘It does seem unlikely,’ she agreed, shooting him a wicked look. Then sliding off the stool, she joined him on the floor, kneeling in front of him, which was no small feat in Leila’s condition. Linking fingers with him, she stared into his eyes. ‘Raffa Leon, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?’
‘In the interest of harmony and equality? Yes.’
‘I love you very much,’ she whispered as he kissed her hands.
‘And I love you, Leila Skavanga.’ Leaning very far forward indeed so he could reach past the bump, he kissed the woman he loved again...and again.
EPILOGUE
IT STARTED WITHOUT WARNING. One minute Leila was sitting across from him telling him some crazy anecdote from her childhood, and the next her face was frozen with shock.
‘Leila?’ He was out of his seat and round her side of the table in a heartbeat.
‘The babies—’ She panted the words out. ‘Raffa— Call an ambulance!’
‘I’m taking you to the hospital,’ he stated calmly. ‘I’ll call ahead to warn them we’re on our way—’
‘Raffa— Raffa! I can’t—’
Grabbing a couple of throws from the sofa, he wrapped them around her. Lifting her, he picked up his keys on his way across the room, but by the time they reached the front door it was clear they weren’t going anywhere.
This was one time neither of them could control the situation. Plucking the phone out of his pocket, he called the emergency number, trying
to subdue his fears. He’d faced guns and knives in the course of his travels when he was searching for gems in some of the world’s wildest places, but he had never known fear like this in his life. The thought of losing Leila—
He might as well be dead too. He would do anything, anything to keep her safe, but the babies weren’t going to wait for his team of experts.
‘Stay on the line,’ he told the paramedic as he shouldered his way into Leila’s room. ‘I might need you to talk me through this.’
Not only couldn’t he control the speed of this birth, he needed help. And where Leila was concerned, he was grateful for every word of advice they could give him.
He laid her down on the bed. She reached for his hand and kissed it. ‘I’m so glad you’re here with me, Raffa.’
‘I won’t leave you for a second—unless the paramedic tells me I have to go fetch something,’ he qualified, realising that for once in his life he really didn’t know best. The thought of Leila giving birth alone to twins in an isolated cabin, however cosy and safe she might think it, racked him with guilt. What if he hadn’t been here? He should have insisted she move to town. He should have hired help— Damn it to hell! He should have arrived in Skavanga sooner—
‘Raffa?’
‘Sorry—’ His cursing had been both forceful and eloquent. ‘I don’t think the twins can hear me yet.’
She managed a laugh. ‘You’re going to make a terrible father if you swear all the time.’
‘I’m already a terrible partner. I don’t know what I was thinking leaving you here on your own so close to the birth.’
‘We thought we knew when the babies were arriving. I was stubborn. I told you to go. I was so certain I knew exactly when they were coming.’
The babies cut her off again before she could say anything more. Like him, they were impatient—impatient to be born. He listened closely to the advice the paramedic was giving him. ‘I’ve got to grab a few things, but I’ll be right back—’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Raffa.’
Leila was smiling bravely, but all the ghosts from the past hit him at once as he stared down at her. If he failed her— If he failed her now—
No chance. There was no chance that would happen. He recited the list so she could tell him where to find everything. ‘Here—take the phone and keep speaking to the paramedic,’ he suggested, already halfway out of the door. ‘They’re on their way—’
Her face turned anxious. ‘They might not get here soon enough, Raffa.’
‘But I’m here,’ he reassured her, ‘and the local medics are flying in by air ambulance, so they won’t take long.’
As she sank back on the pillows he realised Leila had turned his life upside down. And he thanked God for it.
He thanked God even more heartily when the sound of rotor blades drowned out the sound of the kettle boiling. He would walk on hot coals for Leila, but the thought of risking her life or those of the twins by making some beginner’s mistake during the delivery was a calamity he refused to consider. One baby, maybe. But two? He’d do it. Of course he’d do it, but knowing medical assistance was on its way had lifted his spirits and made it possible for him to look forward to the birth of his children with excitement and happiness, rather than the dragging fear that had dogged him since he had first learned Leila was pregnant. Scrawling a note for the medics, he attached it to the wreath outside the front door.
He took the stairs two at a time. So much for his relief at the quick response of the medical team! The first baby was already on its way. There was no mistaking the father of this impatient, strong-willed boy. He was wrapping the youngest member of the Leon dynasty in a towel and placing him in Leila’s arms as the paramedics joined them in the room. He stood back immediately to let the professionals do their job.
‘Raffa, you’re wonderfully calm,’ Leila managed on a shaking breath as the second twin made her noisy entrance into her world. ‘I couldn’t have done any of this without you.’
‘You could probably have done all of it without me, but I’m glad you didn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to,’ he murmured, studying the face of his firstborn as the paramedics checked his son’s tiny baby sister over. ‘And I don’t think either of us had a choice. These babies were coming when they decided the time was right, with or without our agreement.’
‘Happy Christmas, Raffa,’ she murmured as the paramedics loaded her onto a stretcher.
‘Happy Christmas, mouse.’
The look they exchanged was full of love and peace, and the promise of a happy future together with their children, though Leila was no more a mouse these days than he was a restless adventurer. She had given him the home he’d always longed for, while he had only to stand back and watch Leila grow in confidence, he reflected with amusement. Leila had turned out to be every bit as feisty as her sisters. Like Britt and Eva, she was a true Skavanga Diamond, but, as far as he was concerned, Leila was the jewel in the crown.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from SHEIKH'S SCANDAL by Lucy Monroe.
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Harlequin Presents welcomes you to the world of The Chatsfield, synonymous with style, spectacle...and scandal!
Read on for an exclusive extract from Lucy Monroe’s stunning story SHEIKH’S SCANDAL
The first in an exciting new 8-book series: THE CHATSFIELD.
* * *
THE GUEST ELEVATORS at The Chatsfield Hotel London were spacious by any definition, but the confined area felt small to Aaliyah Amari.
‘You’re not very western in your outlook,’ she said, trying to ignore the unfamiliar desires and emotions roiling through her.
‘I am the heart of Zeena Sahra, should my people and their ways not be the center of mine?’
She didn’t like how much his answer touched her. To cover her reaction she waved her hand between the two of them and said, ‘This isn’t the way of Zeena Sahra.’
‘You are so sure?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
He laughed, the honest sound of genuine amusement more compelling than even the uninterrupted regard of the extremely handsome man.
‘You are not like other women.’
‘You’re the emir.’
‘You are saying other women are awed by me.’
She gave him a wry look and said dryly, ‘You’re not conceited at all, are you?’
‘Is it conceit to recognize the truth?’
She shook her head. Even arrogant, she found this man irresistible and had the terrible suspicion he knew it, too.
Unsure how she got there, she felt the wall of the elevator at her back. Sayed’s body was so close his outer robes brushed her. Her breath came out on a shocked gasp.
He brushed her lower lip with his fingertip. ‘Your mouth is luscious.’
‘This is a bad idea.’
‘Is it?’ he asked, his head dipping towards hers.
‘Yes. I’m not part of the amenities.’
‘I know.’ His tone rang with sincerity.
‘I don’t do elevator romps,’ she clarified, just in case he didn’t get it.
Something flared in his dark gaze and S
ayed stepped back, shaking his head. ‘I apologize, Miss Amari. I do not know what came over me.’
‘I’m sure you’re used to women falling all over you,’ she offered by way of an explanation.
He frowned. ‘Is that meant to be a sop to my ego or a slam against it?’
‘Neither?’
He shook his head again, as if trying to clear it.
She wondered if it worked.
She would be grateful for a technique that brought back her own usual way of thinking, unobscured by this unwelcome and unfamiliar desire.
* * *
Step into the gilded world of the Chatsfields!
Where secrets and scandals lurk behind every door...
Reserve your room in May 2014!
Copyright © 2014 by Lilles Slawik
ISBN-13: 9781460328804
THE PUREST OF DIAMONDS?
Copyright © 2014 by Susan Stephens
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The Purest of Diamonds? Page 16