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His kiss was everything she remembered—everything she would remember all her days for the searing joy that filled her as his mouth claimed hers. As his heart claimed hers. As he claimed her.
‘My for ever wife,’ he said, breathing in the sweet breath of her honeyed mouth. ‘My for ever love.’
She gave herself to his kiss, long and sweet and deep, and her hands slipped from his to wind about his neck as his hands clasped her waist, holding her so close against him that nothing could ever part them again...
Except the buzzing in her apron pocket.
He pulled back. ‘What the—’
Rosalie gave a shaky laugh. ‘It’s my manager—wanting to know why I’m taking so long to turn down the bed in this room.’
Xandros yanked the phone from her pocket and answered it.
‘This is Xandros Lakaris in Room 504. Mrs Rosalie Jones Lakaris is otherwise engaged right now. And for the next fifty years and more! Oh, and by the way, she’s just handed in her notice. Effective immediately.’
He chucked the phone on the desk. Turned back to her. Took her into his arms again.
‘I think,’ he said, and there was a gleam in the liquid gold of his eyes that melted her, ‘we can turn down this bed perfectly well together...’
He drew her down with him and she gave a sigh of bliss.
Of radiant, everlasting love and perfect, perfect happiness.
EPILOGUE
ROSALIE SMILINGLY ACCEPTED the glass of champagne that her mother-in-law’s stately butler was offering to her from a silver platter before discreetly withdrawing. She and Xandros had just arrived from yet another sojourn on Kallistris, where they loved to spend all the time they could. But this was an occasion she would not have missed for all the world.
She raised her flute to the young woman sitting opposite her in the beautifully appointed drawing room, tenderly holding her newly christened baby in her arms.
It was Xandros who gave the toast, standing beside Rosalie’s silk-upholstered armchair.
‘To my sister-in-law and her beautiful daughter,’ he said, raising his glass.
His words were echoed by his wife and his mother.
‘To dear Ariadne,’ his mother said fulsomely.
‘To my wonderful sister!’ Rosalie exclaimed warmly.
Her eyes met Ariadne’s. In the months since she had returned to Athens, her heart soaring with happiness, so much had happened—and everything was wonderful...beyond wonderful!
Xandros’s mother had greeted her with tears, asking forgiveness for having caused so much grief, so unintentionally.
‘I did not know you loved my son,’ she had said. ‘Or he you. I did what I thought I had to do—had no choice but to do—but I never meant you any harm, nor the grief I caused you! And now, if you can forgive me, I welcome you to our family as I should have done from the beginning—for you are a part of us for all time. You have made my beloved son the happiest of men, and for that you will always be precious to me.’
And it was her mother-in-law who had overseen the meeting between the two half-sisters. Rosalie had been full of trepidation, lest her hopes not be matched, but her fears had been unnecessary.
So like herself—yet so unalike—Ariadne had been eager in her greeting.
‘You can’t know how wonderful it is to have a sister!’ she had exclaimed.
For a few moments Rosalie let her thoughts go to the man who had brought about the two half-sisters in their very different lives. Then she left him where he was—in his callous, uncaring existence. He had given love to neither of his daughters and neither of their mothers—he deserved nothing.
Her mouth twisted. For all that, her father would now get the only thing he seemed to want. Which, in turn, would give Xandros the merger which she had persuaded him not to withdraw from after all.
She needed no proof that Xandros wanted what she herself so longed for, for no other reason than the one they shared. A baby to bless their marriage and fill their cup of happiness to the brim.
Her eyes went now to Xandros, exchanging a secret glance with him. They would not steal Ariadne’s moment now, but very soon her own pregnancy would start to show, and then it would be a time for family rejoicing.
