An Heir Claimed By Christmas (Mills & Boon Modern) (A Billion-Dollar Singapore Christmas, Book 1)

by Clare Connelly

  ‘Well?’ Dimitrios approached her with a knowing look on his face. ‘Let me guess. You loved them all?’

  She had loved them all, but she knew to buy all of them would be unspeakably extravagant. ‘I did. But I particularly loved the yellow dress,’ she qualified, moving towards it and running her fingers lovingly over the fabric. ‘It was...beautiful.’

  For a moment, she thought she saw surprise in the depth of his eyes.

  ‘Then you’ll have it.’ He removed it from the rack. ‘Why don’t you wear it today? It’s appropriate for your next appointment.’

  ‘Next appointment?’ Despite his generosity, something bristled inside her at his high-handed management of her schedule.

  ‘A day spa.’

  If she’d had champagne in her mouth she would have spurted it everywhere. Her scepticism must have showed because he leaned closer, murmuring, ‘Try it. Just this once. For me.’

  She was about to scoff at that but the fact they were being watched meant she had to alter her natural response. ‘For you, darling? Anything.’

  He dropped his head closer, his eyes warring with hers in a way that set her pulse racing. ‘Careful, Annabelle. I just might hold you to that later.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHE’D RESENTED HIS control-freak ways but, deep down, Annie had to admit that, up until a moment ago, she had also felt a mixture of gratitude and appreciation for Dimitrios. She’d thought the day spa was a gesture of great kindness and compassion, and she’d even let herself enjoy the experience—a full-body massage, a manicure, a pedicure and finally an appointment with the country’s top hairstylist. Her natural blonde mane had been given a few foils then toned to a glossy gold and trimmed a little so that the edges were soft, and the layers gave her hair more bounce.

  She emerged from the spa feeling a million times better than she had before.

  But when Henderson drove her back towards Sydney, he bypassed the turn-off to her suburb completely, causing Annie to lean forward and question him.

  ‘Boss’s directions.’

  Boss’s directions? She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, and waited to see what Dimitrios had in store for her next.

  ‘But Max—’

  ‘He’s being picked up by one of my colleagues.’

  Annie’s chest squeezed. In all of Max’s life, she’d never once missed a school pick-up. The thought of doing so now filled her with a sense of disbelief.

  ‘But...why?’ She shook her head. ‘Don’t tell me. Dimitrios.’

  ‘Sorry, miss—Annie.’

  He drove the car into an underground parking garage, dark despite the fact it was a bright afternoon. She caught a brief glimpse of a sign that read ‘Papandreo Towers’.

  Henderson accompanied her in the lift but when the doors pinged open on the very top floor he remained behind.

  ‘You’re not coming in?’

  ‘No, Annie. Good evening.’

  It was strange that she’d come to think of his company as reassuring, but somehow knowing he was just like her—a normal person, rather than someone born into this kind of wealth—made him a touchstone to the real world.

  Dimitrios Papandreo was definitely not that.

  She stepped into the penthouse and felt like a fish a thousand feet out of water.

  ‘Oh, wow.’ She stopped still, standing where she was and angling her face to take in the details of the incredible space. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed one of the most dramatic views of Sydney she’d ever seen, and the ceilings had to be at least treble normal height. There was a polished white marble staircase in the centre of the room that swept elegantly towards a mezzanine level; she presumed bedrooms were up there. A baby grand piano stood in one corner. The artwork on the walls was priceless, and the kitchen looked as though it belonged in the pages of a glossy magazine.

  Then, there was Dimitrios, so perfectly at home in the luxurious setting, despite the fact he’d discarded his suit jacket and tie and had unbuttoned the top of his shirt to reveal the tanned column of his neck.

  She’d been annoyed at him a moment ago, hadn’t she? Yes! Hold on to that.

  ‘Why did you bring me here?’

  It wasn’t exactly what she’d meant to ask but it was a start.

  ‘It’s going to be our home until the wedding.’

  More high-handedness! She ground her teeth together. ‘I already have a home.’

  He made a noise of disapproval. ‘I made arrangements. Your landlord was happy to end your lease early, given our circumstances.’

  ‘But—’ She stared at him, gobsmacked. ‘You’ve spoken to my landlord?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘No, not of course!’ She sighed in exasperation. ‘He’s my landlord. It’s my lease. My home.’

  Dimitrios took a step towards her. ‘My son. My fiancée. My responsibility.’

  His responsibility. In a way, it was just what she needed to hear, because all day she’d been wondering why he was going to so much effort, spoiling her with a day spa and a shopping spree. But of course—he felt guilty. He saw her as his responsibility and in some kind of moralistic way felt as though he’d let her down these past six years by not supporting her more. When the opposite was true—she’d let him down by not allowing him a chance to know his son.

  The fight left her as guilt rose within her chest.

  ‘Okay.’ She nodded once. ‘Fine. We’ll live here.’

  His frown was a whip across his face. ‘I expected more of an argument.’

  Her smile was just a whisper. ‘So did I.’

  Her response had clearly made him uncertain, but then, this was Dimitrios Papandreo, and uncertainty wasn’t something he did very well. A moment later, he shrugged, evidently taking her decision as a win. ‘Great. Your things have been moved into my room upstairs. Max has a room down the corridor from us. In Singapore, there’s more space than this; you can have your own sitting room and courtyard for privacy. Max will have a sitting room too.’

  ‘More space than this?’ And suddenly, Annie was laughing, because it was all so preposterous. ‘This place is... Don’t you see, Dimitrios? It’s like a palace.’

  ‘That’s relative,’ he said with a small nod. ‘To you, it would seem that way.’

  She felt instantly gauche. She sobered, moving into the kitchen, opening drawers and doors on autopilot, though not looking for anything in particular. When she saw the kettle in a cupboard, she lifted it out and filled it with water, simply because it felt good to have something to do with her hands.

  ‘Who’s collecting Max from school?’

  ‘My driver, and a nanny.’

  ‘A nanny?’ Her head jerked towards his. ‘What do you mean, a nanny?’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not seeking to replace you in his life. I thought an extra pair of hands would be useful during the transition. There’ll be a lot of changes. Her name’s Francesca and she’ll help both of you...adapt.’

  The sound of the kettle boiling filled the room. Annie stared at the wisps of steam that lifted from it, her mind reeling. This was all happening so fast; she felt as if she’d barely drawn breath since Dimitrios had reappeared in her life. Had it really only been a matter of days?

  ‘I thought we could use this time to discuss the wedding.’

  The knots pulled tighter. ‘If you’d like.’

  She heard his exhalation of breath but didn’t turn to face him. ‘Would you like tea?’

  ‘I’ll make coffee.’

  She nodded, busying herself preparing tea, working beside him in the kitchen in what was a bizarrely ordinary task of domesticity. It was as if they were long-term partners, undertaking such routine, normal duties as though they did them often.

  When her tea was made, she propped her bottom against the edge of the ki
tchen bench, her huge blue eyes framed by thick black lashes, her cheeks pink, her newly styled hair sitting like a pale, fluffy cloud around her face. He mirrored her action, standing opposite her, coffee cup in hand, eyes on her face.

  The silence was far from comfortable. She felt every second that passed pull harder on her nerves, until they felt stretched near to breaking point.

  ‘So?’ she prompted eventually, when she couldn’t take it any more.

  ‘So.’ He dragged his free hand through his hair. ‘I’ve arranged the wedding for Friday. Zach’s coming. I know you’re not close, but I presume you’d still like your parents to be there?’

  Annie’s stomach dropped. ‘My parents?’

  Dimitrios studied her. ‘Yes.’

  ‘No.’ It was a knee-jerk response. ‘They don’t need to be involved in this.’ Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. ‘They’re over in Perth and we’re here...’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  She nodded jerkily. ‘Let’s just keep it small. A quick, private ceremony.’

  His eyes didn’t leave her face. He watched her for several long seconds.

  ‘Like ripping off a sticking plaster?’ he prompted, with a hint of mocking amusement.

  ‘Yes.’ She was relieved, though.

  ‘I know this isn’t what either of us would have chosen, but it’s the right thing to do.’

  Butterflies rampaged through her belly. She nodded, almost convinced he was right.

  ‘So why do you look as though you’re about to have a root canal?’

  Her eyes flew wide. ‘Do I?’

  ‘Or worse,’ he said quietly, straightening and taking a step towards her. ‘Is the idea of marrying me really so appalling to you?’

  Her eyes scanned his face, her heart slamming into her rib cage with the force of a freight train. Annie contemplated it, trying to find words to express how she felt.

  ‘It’s just very sudden,’ she said eventually.

  ‘For us both,’ he pointed out, closing the distance between them, coming to stand toe-to-toe, bracing his arms on either side of her, his body caging hers. Her heart moved faster and harder for a different reason now, reminding her of how it had felt to be in his arms at the boutique that morning, pressed hard against him, his mouth on hers. Her gaze dropped to his lips and her own parted in memory and need.

  ‘There’s so much I don’t know about you.’

  ‘And what you do know, you don’t like?’ he suggested.

  Her pulse fired. He was right. She had been angry with him for a long time—her heart broken, her feelings hurt. But that all seemed so long ago. Seven years was a long time in anyone’s life but for Annie, with all she’d had to keep her busy, the trials she’d faced every day, it had been like a lifetime.

  ‘The truth is, I barely know you.’

  Was that really the truth? Standing like this, she felt as though he was familiar to her in an elemental way. Memories of the night they’d spent together were hovering on the brink of her mind, as though they’d happened only a night or so ago, not seven years.

  ‘You’ll get to know me.’

  ‘And to like you?’

  ‘That would make our marriage easier,’ he said with a tight smile.

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. The difficulty, though, wasn’t in liking him—it was in liking him too much. She needed to keep some perspective and remember that this was all for Max’s sake. Whatever girlhood infatuation she’d felt for Dimitrios, that was in the distant past. The last thing she should do was let her physical response to him make her forget the truth of their situation.

  ‘What time will Max be home?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Soon.’

  She was glad. Max was a talisman of reality. ‘We should get this over with, then.’

  He lifted a brow and she realised the way he could misconstrue her words. Heat flamed in her cheeks. ‘Firming up on the details, I mean.’

  ‘Of course.’ His response was tongue-in-cheek. She felt as if he was mocking her.

  ‘So the wedding will be on Friday?’

  He nodded, apparently back to being business-like, but he didn’t move his body. Traitorous feelings made her glad.

  ‘In the morning. I thought we’d fly to Singapore straight after lunch.’

  Her breath snagged in her throat. ‘So soon?’

  ‘Why delay? Unless you’d prefer we took a honeymoon first?’

  A honeymoon conjured exactly the kind of imagery she wished to avoid. She shook her head quickly. His smile showed he understood.

  ‘Are you afraid of me, Annabelle?’ His fingers caught her chin, gently lifting her face towards his so he could read her eyes.

  Her lips parted, words trapped inside her.

  ‘Or are you afraid of wanting me, even after all this time?’

  Her eyes widened at his perceptive powers. Or perhaps she was just that painstakingly obvious.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. ‘I’m not afraid of anything.’

  His laugh was silent, just a movement of his lips and a release of his warm breath. It fanned her temple. Her insides shifted; her lungs squeezed.

  ‘When I kissed you today it felt as though no time had passed.’

  That was exactly how it had been for her, too!

  ‘It was just playing a part,’ she reminded him, but the words came out high-pitched.

  ‘No, it was more than that. It’s the saving grace of what we’re doing. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, but our bodies are in sync, and that’s something. It’s enough, for now, to base our marriage on. Don’t bother denying that you feel it too.’

  Was that what she’d been doing?

  She shook her head a little, losing herself in the magnetic depths of his eyes. ‘I don’t want to feel anything for you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Why not?’ His thumb padded her lower lip, sending little shivers of desire through her.

  ‘Because.’

  One side of his lip lifted in a curl that could have been amusement or cynicism. ‘That’s not really an answer.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You’re still angry with me for what I said to you seven years ago?’

  Old wounds festered deep inside her. ‘I’m not still angry,’ she said quietly. ‘But I’m smarter now than I was then. I learned my lesson.’

  ‘What lesson is that?’

  ‘Play with fire and you’re bound to get burned.’

  ‘Am I fire?’

  ‘You were for me.’

  ‘And I burned you?’

  His head was moving closer with every word he spoke, so his lips were only a hair’s-breadth from hers. ‘You changed me,’ she said quietly.

  ‘How?’

  She could hardly think straight. ‘You taught me not to take things at face value.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I thought you wanted more from me than just—sex.’

  His frown was a slash on his features. ‘I wanted to share our grief.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘But you didn’t really want me. Any woman would have done for that.’

  His response was to move his whole body closer, so she felt his hardness against her, his arousal against her belly. Her stomach looped.

  ‘And you already had a girlfriend,’ she added quickly.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘But you said—’

  ‘I said what I needed to make sure you got the message. At the time, I thought I was looking out for you, pushing you away for your own good. I didn’t want you thinking there was any future for us so I told you what I thought would scare you off.’

  Surprise shifted her features. ‘You lied to me?’

  His expression was impossible to interpret. ‘And that lie cost me. If I hadn’t said that
, would you have tried to tell me about Max?’

  The world was falling away from them; Annie felt as though she were standing on an island with only Dimitrios, their history forming a swirling, raging ocean on all sides. She lifted a hand, curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body through her fingertips.

  She’d intended to push him away but, just for the moment, the proximity and warmth of him flowed through her, his strength pushing into her body.

  ‘I did try to tell you.’

  The words were softly spoken, so Dimitrios had to focus to make sure he’d understood her. I did try to tell you. Was she lying, to justify the fact he had a six-year-old child he’d only just learned about?

  ‘After I found out I was pregnant, I came to tell you, but...’

  He was finding it hard to breathe. ‘But?’

  ‘I saw you with all your friends, and some woman—who I presumed to be your girlfriend—and I just couldn’t do it.’ Her voice was hollow, as though she were speaking to him from a long way away. ‘You were so sophisticated, it was like you belonged to a whole other universe than the one I lived in. I was only eighteen, Dimitrios. I was scared and embarrassed, and I had no idea what you’d say, but I knew you already had a pretty low opinion of me.’

  His gut tightened. ‘Where was this?’

  ‘At some bar. I’d seen in the papers that you were going to the opening. You’d been involved in funding it or something.’

  He remembered. It was a place on Circular Quay. ‘I wish I had told you then.’ He could hear the sincerity in her voice and it pulled at something inside him. Whatever anger he was still nursing towards her shifted. ‘If it happened now, I would.’

  ‘You were young,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Like the child you accused me of being?’

  That had been wrong. At the time, she’d felt like a child, but so much of that had been tied up in his guilt. Guilt at sleeping with Lewis’s younger sister. If Lewis had been alive, it would never have happened. Lewis would have killed Dimitrios. He’d adored Annabelle—or ‘Annie’—and had spoken of her often. Dimitrios had been aware that she had a bit of a crush on him, but he’d never planned to do anything to encourage it. So why the hell had he found his way to her door that night? Why had he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until all thoughts of Lewis, death and sadness were obliterated from his mind?