‘I think the absence of the green hair didn’t help,’ Tor teased. ‘And I was more fixated by the fact that you were very pregnant, so I didn’t look at you as closely as I should have done. But what I do understand is that we were incredibly lucky to find each other that first night because, for me, you are that one-in-a-million woman, who sets me on fire with a look. I love you so much...’
One in a million? That made Pixie feel good and she smiled up into the dark golden eyes welded to her with such fierce appreciation. ‘Why didn’t you respond when I told you I loved you?’
Tor laughed. ‘Because I was a very late arrival to the party. I only realised last night. You talked of being in Katerina’s shadow when you had never been and I sat up thinking about all of it, the past and the present. That’s when what was really happening became clear to me. I understood how I truly felt after Katerina’s death and why I hadn’t got over that guilt. I also understood what I was feeling for you.’
‘I probably would like another baby in a year or two,’ Pixie told him, gently shooing away Coco, who was trying to climb into bed with them. ‘Sorry I snapped over that idea. It’s been a very emotional twenty-four hours.’
‘But worth it,’ Tor countered with a scorching smile, and he was bending his tousled dark head to toy with her lips again when a faint sound alerted Pixie and made her pull away from him.
‘Alfie’s awake.’ Pixie slid off the bed and began to dress in haste. ‘Isla’s on holiday...remember?’ she prompted.
‘So, we get to be real parents,’ Tor teased, rolling off the bed, naked and bronzed.
‘Yes, Tor,’ Pixie said with eyes filled with amusement. ‘And the first lesson in being real parents is, you have to put on clothes.’
‘Did I tell you how much I love you?’ Tor asked, hitching an ebony brow.
‘It was practically love at first sight for me.’ Pixie held up a finger in unashamed one-upmanship. ‘I win hands down.’
‘I’m not so sure. I was a pushover for you and I’m not a pushover,’ Tor declared. ‘But maybe it was the green hair...’
‘Well, we’re never going to know for sure because I’m not going green again,’ Pixie assured him with a chuckle, bending forward to kiss him as he pulled up his jeans and dallying there, Alfie having quieted again, her keen hearing assured her.
‘And I’m never ever going to be without you again, agapi mou,’ Tor husked, gathering her to him with all the possessiveness of a male determined never to let her go.
EPILOGUE
OVER TWO YEARS LATER, Pixie was presiding over a busy Christmas gathering at the mansion she and Tor had moved to overlooking the Thames. Surrounded by acres of gardens and possessed of numerous bedrooms, it was the perfect home for a family who enjoyed entertaining. Tor’s relatives were frequent visitors.
Although that had not been her original intention, Pixie had never returned to work. At first, she had revelled in the luxury of being able to be with her son whenever she liked. But as she had begun to adapt to her new life, she had also become much busier. Having taken an interest in the charities that Tor supported, she had become actively involved with one in a medical field. She had soon realised that she could do a lot of good helping to raise funds and that fired up greater interest in such roles.
Moving from the town house into a much larger property had consumed a lot of her time as well, although she had thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to decorate and furnish her first new home. That her first new home should be a virtual mansion still staggered her.
And now she was pregnant again, six months along and glowing with an energy she had not benefited from the first time around. Of course, she acknowledged, everything was different now for her. She was incredibly happy and secure and supported every step of the way. Tor’s love had changed her, lending her new confidence and boosting her self-esteem. Discovering that she was carrying non-identical twins had been a bit of a shock at first, but a shock she and Tor had greeted with pleasure because they got so much joy out of Alfie, who was now a lively little boy of three.
Now she watched as Alfie dragged his grandfather, Hallas, outside to show the older man his ride-on car where it was parked on the terrace. Tor’s father grinned as he visibly tried to explain in dumbshow to the little boy that he was far too big to get into the vehicle and take the wheel. Looking long-suffering with an expression that was pure Tor, Alfie climbed in instead to demonstrate his toy. Pixie smiled, feeling very fortunate that Tor’s parents were so loving.
Tor had finally stopped being secretive about his first marriage and, although his revelations had roused shock and consternation, Pixie was inclined to believe that everyone was much more relaxed now that the truth was out and they were able to understand how Tor had felt for the five years that he had endured being treated like a heartbroken widower. Of course, he had been heartbroken in many ways, just not in the way that people had naturally assumed. She was particularly fond of her husband’s half-brother, Sev, whom she had only got to know after Tor had cleared the air with him.
Just then she was wondering if Sev would manage to spend Christmas with them. Or if he was off somewhere else with some gorgeous beauty on a beach, drinking champagne and carousing, for Tor’s Italian half-brother Sev was an unashamed womaniser, chary of any form of commitment and deeply cynical. Even so, he and Tor had eventually grown closer, in spite of the fact that at the start that development had looked unlikely.
A huge Christmas tree embellished the front entrance hall while a log fire crackled in the grate. Richly coloured baubles twirled at the end of branches decorated with glittering beaded strings, multicoloured reflections dancing off the marble hearth. It looked beautiful and so it should, Pixie conceded, because she had spent so much time seeking out special ornaments since her very first precious Christmas with Tor and Alfie. And every year she would bring them out and hang them, enjoying the memories that particular decorations evoked. Here and there on the branches hung the less opulent ornaments she had inherited from her late parents, enabling the tree to remind her of her happy childhood as well.
Her attention roamed to her brother, Jordan, where he was kneeling on the floor beside a little girl of about five. Tula was his girlfriend Suzy’s daughter. It was a fairly new relationship, but Pixie was crossing her fingers and praying that it would work out for Jordan—because although he had rebuilt his life, she knew he needed someone to do it for and to ground him, and hopefully Suzy was that woman.
Jordan had suffered a long hard road in rehabilitation. There had been relapses and episodes of depression and various other obstacles for him to overcome, but in the end he had succeeded. He had found somewhere to live at his own expense and, a year ago, he had found work in a charitable organisation where he had no access to money. He had met Suzy through his job soon afterwards. Tor was very slowly warming up towards her sibling and generally becoming, under Pixie’s influence, a little more compassionate with regard to other people’s failings.
Tor came through the door with Alfie clinging to him like a limpet while his father chatted to him, but Tor’s stunning bronzed eyes sought out and instantly settled on his wife. There was a welter of talk and greetings as his entire family converged on him, for they had only arrived earlier that day and he had been at the office.
‘My son adores you,’ her mother-in-law, Pandora, pronounced with satisfaction at Pixie’s elbow. ‘You are the woman I always wanted for him and every woman deserves to be adored.’
‘I adore him back,’ Pixie whispered chokily.
‘And another two grandchildren on the way together,’ Pandora teased, fanning her face to lighten the atmosphere. ‘What more can I say?’
‘Three’s enough!’ Pixie laughed.
‘We will see...’
Tor finally made it to Pixie’s side. ‘I need a shower and to change,’ he groaned, raking his fingers up over his unshaven jaw with the attitude of a m
an suggesting that he resembled a down-and-out.
‘Off you go,’ his mother urged, her smile emerging as her son ensnared his wife’s hand and tugged her upstairs with him.
‘A shower?’ Pixie lifted a dubious brow.
‘Afterwards,’ Tor suggested meaningfully, guiding her straight into their bedroom and peeling off his jacket in almost the same motion.
A pulse stirred between her thighs and turned into an ache as she saw his arousal through the fine expensive cloth of his trousers. It was a hunger that never quite dimmed, never ever got fully satisfied, she acknowledged, studying him from the crown of his cropped black hair to his shimmering dark golden eyes to the electrifyingly sexy dark shadow of stubble on his jawline. And something gave within her and she just stepped forward and flung herself at him with all the exuberant passion that he revelled in.
‘Thee mou... You are beautiful, agapi mou,’ Tor husked raggedly, struggling for breath as he emerged from that kiss.
Not half as beautiful as he was, she thought, but she had long since learned not to embarrass him with such words of appreciation. ‘This is going to be a wonderful Christmas,’ she told him happily. ‘I feel so lucky. We’ve got everybody who matters to us here to celebrate with us.’
‘I really only need you,’ Tor told her truthfully. ‘And Alfie...and our twins,’ he extended as he turned her round and splayed large possessive hands over the swell of her stomach. ‘I never realised I could love anyone the way I love you.’