He’s doing as you asked, stupid. He’s agreed to meet you tomorrow, and he’s confirmed with Mandy that he will.
Kris Kaimos doing as Kimmie Lancaster said? Did that seem likely? Or was he giving her a chance to realise that she couldn’t fight him?
Stop! You’ll find out the answer at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.
If he turned up.
Of course he’ll turn up. Can you imagine Kristof Kaimos shying away from anything?
Well, he’d better, or she’d text him until her phone exploded. They must talk before he left town again, and make plans for the future of their child.
Could they do that over hot chocolate in a bustling London café?
Yes. They’d have to. Communication was key. Everything hinged on how Kris felt about becoming a parent. She could manage without him, and might have to; there were no guarantees. He might not want to have a child, and she did. For as long as she could remember, Kimmie had learned not to want, to wish, to hope, but becoming pregnant had changed everything. She wanted the world for her baby, and wanted all her child’s wishes to come true. If she could just steer their baby onto the path of happiness she’d be content, because that was the most important goal of all.
Kris called to her in other ways, Kimmie mused as she moved about the hall, chatting to one group and then the next. He had claimed her heart in a way she couldn’t explain, but with a baby to raise, a life to lead and a career to nurture if she was to support them both, she had to look out for herself and must never rely on the temptation that was Kristof Kaimos. Business would always come first for him. If they became close again, how long would it be before he left on another business trip? And would she become as commonplace and as interchangeable as a piece of his real estate? For the sake of their child, she couldn’t allow that to happen. Talking in a busy café was a great idea. They could have a drink and a chat, and sketch out some plans—if he wanted to be involved. Or would a regular bank transfer be more to his liking, if not to hers?
Of course he wanted to be involved! His eyes had lit up when he’d seen her and realised she was pregnant. No one could fake that type of response. Kris might be hard and driven in business but, just as Kimmie hid her true self beneath countless protective onion skins of reckless boho attitude, she was still learning the lessons of the past. Kris was the same; he had many more layers than he showed to the world. Kimmie understood him because their pasts were so similar in a way, but that didn’t mean she had to roll over at his every demand. Anyway, it was no use fretting about it. Her questions would be answered tomorrow.
* * *
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. And punctual. He was early. He couldn’t wait to see her again, and would have chosen his Harley to whip through the sluggish London traffic, but Kimmie was quite advanced in her pregnancy so he had chosen the slower option of an SUV. ‘Ready?’ he asked, impatient to the last.
‘I thought we were going there to talk,’ she said, pointing down the road to where a neon sign was flashing above a nearby café.
‘We can if you’d rather?’ He shrugged.
‘No,’ she said, glancing at the sleek black SUV. ‘If you promise to keep me and the bump safe I’m happy to let you drive us somewhere further away.’
‘Us,’ he said as he helped her in.
‘Us,’ she confirmed as he joined her.
Kris smiled as he gunned the engine. He had a good feeling about this, and it grew as he sensed rather than saw Kimmie rest back against the seat. She had no clue where they were going, but nothing fazed her and he was confident that the same would apply to the question he had to ask.
‘This is amazing,’ she exclaimed as they swept across Waterloo Bridge.
‘Not too fast for you?’ he asked as he brought the vehicle to a halt alongside a simple pop-up food outlet located on the bank of the Thames.
‘Perfect,’ she said, seeming delighted as she gazed around. ‘I love London, even in winter. These flawless blue skies remind me of Greece.’
‘It’s a bit colder here,’ he commented.
‘So long as the sun’s shining, I don’t care,’ she said. ‘Hmm. That food smells good, and I’m starving. Eating for two,’ she reminded him.
‘Hot dog? Hamburger?’
‘Don’t you just love the contrast of colourful food shack and Old Father Thames drifting to the sea like a dirty old rag?’
‘Stop thinking about painting and tell me what you want to eat,’ he prompted. When Kimmie was in this mood it was hard to be impatient with her.
With a smile, she looked at him. ‘I love surprise adventures. This has been fun,’ she admitted, a wistful note creeping into her voice.
‘And it isn’t over yet,’ he reminded her, unable to keep a stern note out of his tone. They had to discuss the baby. Yesterday had been fraught. She’d been too shocked to see him to say much, and the event had taken up all her time, but once they’d had something to eat he was going to drill down into the detail of what would happen next.
‘I think we should get married,’ he said bluntly after two steaming hot drinks and a belly full of food.
‘I’m sorry?’ Kimmie looked startled. ‘Seriously?’ She frowned when he produced a velvet box from the inner pocket of his jacket.
‘Of course I’m being serious,’ he said, obviously affronted. This was not the reaction he’d expected.
‘Aren’t you jumping the gun?’ she commented with a huff of surprise. ‘We haven’t even talked about the future yet.’
‘Do we need to?’
‘Of course we do,’ she insisted with an incredulous look.
‘How much discussion does this need?’ Flipping the catch, he revealed a priceless blue diamond circled by brilliant cut pure blue-whites, each the carat weight of most people’s conservatively sized engagement ring jewel.
‘Quite a lot, I’d say,’ she told him sharply.
‘Have you even looked at this magnificent jewel?’
‘I don’t need to look at it,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘Well, if I didn’t get it right I’ll buy you something else.’
‘I don’t want anything at all. I’m not ready—maybe I never will be,’ she added, wringing her hands. ‘Look, do you want the truth,’ she demanded, ‘or shall I sugarcoat it?’
‘Just give me your answer,’ he said impatiently. ‘I can’t believe there’s a problem.’
‘Believe it,’ she said fiercely. ‘This is all wrong. It’s as wrong as it could be. You’re only doing this because of the baby.’
‘No, I’m not,’ he protested. ‘I want you to be my wife.’
‘To spend the rest of my life with you? To grow old together?’
Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
‘When you can spare the time, that is,’ she added with an ironic look.
The sad look in her eyes held him to account.
‘You’re not being fair,’ he protested. ‘What you say isn’t true. I’ve got all the time in the world for you.’
‘So your business will suddenly run itself?’
He ground his jaw. ‘I’ll learn to delegate,’ he offered finally.
‘Really?’ she commented with a disbelieving look.
‘Why not?’
‘I’ll take more convincing than a ride in your SUV and a hot dog on the bank of the Thames.’
‘I’ll buy you anything you want,’ he offered. ‘Just name it.’
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ she said. The sad look had returned to her face. ‘I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want hasty solutions either. I can look after myself.’
‘But you don’t have to.’
‘Don’t I?’ Her look this time was steady and penetrating.
‘It won’t be what you think,’ he assured her. ‘I kn
ow you. I know what you need—’
‘You think you do,’ she cut in, ‘but if you really knew me you wouldn’t have bought me a ring like that.’
‘I want to show you what’s possible.’
‘A piece of jewellery like that doesn’t show me anything, apart from the fact that you have a lot of money.’
He shrugged. ‘Then choose another one.’
‘Will that keep me warm at night? Will it make me feel safe and cherished and loved?’
‘It should do,’ he insisted.
‘So that’s your reassurance?’ she said sadly. ‘If I accept this ring I’ll be happy, because lots of money buys lots of happiness and security for me and our child. Is that your best argument?’
‘Yes. Why not? What are you doing?’ he demanded tensely as she moved to the edge of the kerb.
‘Hailing a cab,’ she informed him as she held out her hand.
‘There’s absolutely no need for you to do that when I’ll take you back.’
Turning to face him, she said steadily, ‘There’s every need to do this. Get in touch again when you’ve had a chance to think things through. We really do need to talk. And, Kris...?’ She glanced at the black velvet box he was still holding, containing the ring he’d had specially made for Kimmie, paying the royal jeweller to stay up all night to finish work on the setting. ‘Valuable rings aren’t the answer. Don’t you remember I discovered that in Kaimos?’
She was comparing him to her ex, and that bit of tin he’d given her to Kris’s extravagant display of commitment? Now he was mad. But Kimmie didn’t give him the chance to express his feelings. A black cab had swept to her side at the kerb. The driver lowered the window and she told him where she wanted to go. The next moment she was slamming the door. Just before it closed, she called out, ‘I’ll wait to hear from you. And thanks for breakfast.’
And then she was gone.
Was this some sort of test? She’d wait to hear from him? What was that supposed to mean? He was supposed to chase her? He was halfway home before he’d even begun to calm down. To say there was a lot of thinking to do would be a massive understatement.
* * *
Kimmie felt numb on the drive back home, and her hand shook as she put the key in the lock of her flat. What a mess. Two individuals, worlds apart, struggling to find some common ground so they could talk about the child they were expecting. How could they ever work things out? They had to. A child was too big a topic, too big a love to shove to one side and leave to another day. They both knew how it felt to long for love and be denied the smallest recognition. But she wasn’t going to waste a second on looking back. Shedding her jacket, she plopped down on the bed-settee and pulled out her phone. They had to arrange to talk. They must make arrangements to meet again, and soon.
Kimmie smiled ruefully. Before she’d even had the chance to call Kris, his name flashed up on her screen.
‘Dinner tonight,’ he suggested when she answered. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Just what I was thinking,’ she admitted. ‘I was on the point of calling you.’
‘I’ll send a car.’
This time she didn’t argue. ‘What time?’
‘Eight.’
‘Perfect.’
His tone was neutral. Hers was too.
* * *
From Kimmie’s limited wardrobe, she chose a simple long-sleeved deep blue midi-dress, which she teamed with black ankle boots. Not a sequin in sight. No bells. No tassels. Smart, but still a little quirky. She couldn’t change her style for Kris. Where would he take her for dinner? Neutral territory, she hoped, somewhere quiet and discreet where they could have a proper talk.
A uniformed chauffeur arrived promptly at eight o’clock. She appreciated Kris’s businesslike approach to a pressing problem. No pressure, no panic, just a calm and considered solution. The limousine was sleek, black and super-luxurious, and the driver negotiated the London traffic almost as smoothly as Kris had. Other people on the roads tended to make way for such an impressive-looking vehicle, she soon discovered. Staring out of the window as they halted at traffic lights, she saw one of her flyers still displayed in a shop window, and realised that was how Kris had found her. Moving off again, they drove for a few more miles until eventually the limo drew to a halt outside one of London’s finest hotels.
A doorman approached and helped her out. Entering the brilliantly-lit lobby with its muted sound palette and incredible floral displays, she was glad Kris had chosen neutral territory. Yet she was still wary because this was his neutral territory, a place where he felt at home and where she felt hopelessly unstylish in her cheap maternity clothes.
‘This way, madam,’ a smartly dressed woman invited. ‘Your friend is waiting for you in the private dining room.’
Naturally, Kris would be there already, no doubt champing at the bit. The most important thing was to keep her wits about her tonight. She must not allow her feelings for him to overrule her common sense.
As soon as she entered the private room, Kris stood. The table was beautifully decorated with flowers and crystal and silver cutlery. Two waiters hovered in the background, while champagne was chilling in an ice bucket, alongside a bottle of sparkling water for Kimmie. He’d thought of everything. Did that make him ruthless and determined, or caring and concerned? There was only one way to find out.
The waiter held her chair and she sat down opposite Kris, who looked amazing. Of course he did. When did Kris look anything but amazing? Tonight he was wearing an exquisitely tailored dark suit that pointed up his incredible physique. He’d teamed this with a crisp white shirt and a discreetly coloured pale grey silk tie. He was the embodiment of style and sophistication. Or appeared to be. Only she knew about the tattoos beneath that sharp suit, and the glint of an earring almost concealed by his thick, wavy black hair. Beneath his apparent sophistication, Kris was as unconventional as Kimmie. It could be said that neither of them truly belonged in this most traditional of settings, but Kris had made it his own, and so would she.
‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ he said politely.
‘I’m pleased to be here,’ she said with matching reserve.
The ritual of eating went without a hitch. The food was delicious and conversation, though stilted at first, eventually flowed easily.
‘I’m not who you think I am,’ Kris said calmly as they waited for hot drinks to arrive, coffee for him and fresh mint tea for Kimmie. ‘The ring was a mistake, I see that now.’
Kimmie shrugged as she admitted, ‘But it was a very kind thought. And as for who I think you are...? Honestly? My opinion changes by the minute. I’m still getting to know you,’ she explained.
‘Which was why the ring was too much too soon?’ Kris asked, watching her carefully.
‘That ring would always be too much for me. Imagine it covered in paint,’ she exclaimed. ‘And it was definitely offered at a point in my life where I just don’t know you well enough to commit to a lifelong arrangement.’
‘An arrangement?’ he echoed sharply.
‘For the sake of our child.’
‘I stand admonished,’ he said with a sudden smile that lit up his eyes.
She wanted to believe him, but did Kris do anything without a good reason? Why did he need to make her his wife? They could still be good parents to their child without making that final commitment to each other, couldn’t they?
‘I’ve kept the ring,’ he advised, ‘so if you change your mind...’
‘I won’t,’ she assured him.
‘Then keep it as a dress ring. I’ll give it to you, no strings attached.’
‘Thank you.’ She shook her head firmly. ‘But no. Better you return it and get your money back. Or keep it for the next contender.’
‘I sincerely hope you’re joking,’ he said with a scowl.
Deep down, so did she.
‘All I’m asking is that you consider marriage for the sake of our child,’ he pressed.
‘A piece of paper won’t make any difference. All our child needs is our love.’
‘Ah, if only life were that simple.’ Kris sighed.
‘You make it sound like just another business deal,’ Kimmie observed, feeling her heart twist in anguish. Was it wrong to want so much more?
‘Marriage is a business deal of sorts,’ Kris argued.
Was he right? Kimmie was beginning to doubt her own judgement. The only way she could unscramble her brain was by concentrating on their baby. Then again, if this was the first time either of them had discussed marriage, they wouldn’t have it down pat.
‘Let’s leave it for now,’ Kris suggested, ‘and enjoy each other’s company for the rest of the evening.’
Could they?
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
So much he had no idea.
And Kris made it possible. He wasn’t just the consummate businessman, but a consummate charmer too. And so good-looking she could have stared at him for ever as he talked and soothed and seduced. With a mind like a steel trap, he kept her endlessly entertained and by the end of the evening she was relaxed and happy, and ready to agree to just about anything. Kris was a sexy, highly entertaining man and somehow he’d even managed to halfway convince her that marriage to him would be wonderful. She’d have more freedom, not less. But was that an illusion too? she wondered as he held her chair as they left the table. She was used to making her own money, not relying on anyone else.
Admittedly, she was a bit short at the moment. Some of the profit from the recent exhibition would pay for a new place to rent, but the rest had been safely put away to build her scholarship fund for struggling artists. She couldn’t marry Kris and say, Woo-hoo! I’m in the money now! It wasn’t her way. Standing on her own two feet without anyone propping her up wasn’t just a way of life—it was Kimmie’s life.
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