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‘A proper Christmas, just for you and me—a second honeymoon with no distractions.’
‘Christmas?’ Rosie’s eyes fired with wonder as the child inside her got its dream come true at last.
‘Big and brazen,’ he insisted, ‘with too many gifts, and a turkey that’s far too big for us. Mince pies, and Yule logs. Crackers and tinsel. Would you like that?’
‘I’d love that,’ she said and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I love you.’
Much, much later, they talked about the children’s centre Xavier had planned, and he told her the hacienda would be the perfect headquarters. He explained what he’d like her to do at the children’s centre. ‘So, I’m to be an assistant to the superintendent of the facility? That sounds very grand.’ Rosie frowned. ‘Can I still be barefoot, or do I have to wear a suit?’
‘You can wear whatever you like.’
‘There’s just one thing.’
‘Yes?’
She braced herself to tell him. ‘I might need maternity leave.’
‘Might?’ Xavier shot her a wry look. ‘I’m counting on it.’
‘That’s not what I...’
‘Are you telling me you’re pregnant?’ He held her at arm’s length to stare into her eyes, as if they would tell him the truth. ‘How can you be sure? So soon?’ he demanded, taut with hope.
Forget his half of the island—forget everything! His head was reeling at the possibility that Rosie was pregnant. Everything exploded into vivid colour. His fears of parenting evaporated. If he was useless, he could learn. He had Doña Anna’s example to draw on and Rosie at his side. No one got a manual with their first child, so he was level pegging with everyone else, learning as he went along.
‘It’s too soon to be sure,’ Rosie warned him, seeing the joy on his face. ‘I’ve just got this feeling...’
‘I think we’d better get you checked out.’
‘Are you pleased?’
Was he pleased? Whatever he had expected to feel when they had first entered into this so-called arrangement was nothing approaching this. He was speechless and drowning in emotion.
‘Xavier? Say something—are you all right?’
‘I am beyond all right—beyond happy—beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. Please, let this be true.’ He grasped hold of Rosie’s hands when no words seem adequate. ‘Do you need to sit down?’
‘I’m lying down, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ They laughed with sheer happiness, and hugged each other. ‘And I’m pregnant, not sick,’ she said when he eventually let her go. ‘If I’m right, you’ll get the heir you need.’
‘Don’t!’ he exclaimed, frowning. ‘Please don’t say that. Don’t remind me of what an idiot I’ve been—it’s bad for my ego.’ She laughed and kissed him again. ‘I’ve got you, Rosie, and that’s all I care about. I’ve got the woman I want, and the only mother I could ever want for my children. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. You’ll have the best care available.’
‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ Rosie assured him, catching hold of his hand. ‘I’ve got you.’
EPILOGUE
ROSIE RECEIVED CONFIRMATION from the island’s doctor that she was pregnant a short time before Christmas. The doctor also confirmed Rosie’s suspicion that sometimes a woman just knew these things. There was no medical reason that could account for that feeling of hers. It was in the bones, he said.
Her baby would be born in the late spring, and, with the whole world at his disposal, Xavier had
declared that if they were going to celebrate Christmas properly there must be snow, and so he piloted the jet to the land of cuckoo clocks and chocolate. Even the flight over the snow-clad mountains was spectacular, but Xavier’s chalet, with its long winding drive, lined by Christmas trees, each one lit with tiny shimmering lights, was magical. The burnished wood construction, with its steeply sloping roof and quaint painted shutters at every window, was the perfect setting for the perfect Christmas, Rosie thought as they drew up outside. Lanterns glowed on either side of the front door, and a Christmas wreath of pine cones and cinnamon sticks, secured with blousy bows of vivid red ribbon, welcomed them as Xavier helped her out of the rugged four-wheeler.
‘What’s this?’ she asked as he pressed a small box into her hands.
‘Your first Christmas present.’
She laughed. ‘My first?’
‘Get used to it, Señora Del Rio. There are twelve days of Christmas, but you’ll have to forgive me in this instance for getting ahead of the game, but I had no alternative if we’re to get inside the chalet. Don’t worry,’ he added, ‘some of the gifts might be in kind. I don’t want to overburden you with luggage,’ he explained with a wicked grin.
