His gaze was pouring into hers again, his dark eyes turning to liquid gold. Turning her to liquid gold as well.
‘Can you...? Will you...?’ His voice was husky. ‘Do you want that, too? Can you love me as I have come to love you? I won’t give up hope, Rosalie! Ask of me anything but that!’
He gazed at her, drinking her in. His expression had changed again. Intensity and ardour softened it now, making it tender. Cherishing. Loving...
‘The fact that you are sitting here with tears pouring down your face from those eyes that have beguiled me since I first beheld them, and that you have let me kiss you as I have, and that your hands, Rosalie, are clutching mine as if you would never let them go... All that, my dearest heart, gives me cause to hope...’
She gave a choke—a cry from her throat. ‘I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, Xandros! Because I knew that wasn’t what you wanted! It was no part of why we married. We were always destined to part! So...’ She took a ragged breath, so much emotion inside her. ‘Do you really mean what you have just said?’
His hands tightened on hers and he gave her an old-fashioned look before getting to his feet, retaining her hands, which he lifted with his.
‘There may be only one way to prove myself,’ he said, and the glint in his eyes was pure gold.
He drew her to her feet, her limbs unresisting. Her tears were drying on her cheeks and her vision was clearing. She was focussing on the one man alone she would ever want. The man who was now lowering his mouth to hers...
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.
So she raised her glass again, her expression warm, and felt Xandros’s hand on her shoulder warm upon her, cherishing and loving. How blessed she was to have so much!
Oh, Mum, you’re the only one I miss who should be here—but you will be in my heart always, and in my memories. And if my baby is a girl I will give her your name—and all the love you gave to me.
Then her gaze went to her husband’s once again, her heart overflowing as their eyes wound into each other’s. Unconsciously her hand slipped to her stomach, fingers splaying in a protective gesture.
A little gasp came from her half-sister. Ariadne’s eyes widened.
‘Rosalie! Can it be...? I know that gesture! Are you...?’ Her voice was breathless, excited.
Rosalie gave a helpless laugh, exchanging a rueful glance with Xandros. So much for secrecy!
Her mother-in-law had gone very still, her champagne flute poised halfway to her mouth, eyes only on Rosalie, bright with eager hope.