12 Stocking Stuffers

by Beverly Barton

  ‘If I thought for one minute you had a hand in this, I’d hit you!’

  ‘Now, there’s an interesting thought.’

  His indolent drawl almost undid her, and she speared him a dark glare. ‘You can skip the coffee.’ She was on a roll. ‘In fact, you can skip taking me anywhere. I’ll take a cab.’

  ‘And disappoint Anouk?’ he queried mildly. ‘Besides, we need an opportunity to discuss arrangements for sharing custody of Samuel.’

  For a few seconds she was rendered speechless, then the impact of his words hit with cold reality.

  ‘Coffee,’ Chantelle capitulated, and earned his wry amusement.

  He gestured towards a line of parked cars to his right. ‘My car is over there.’

  She didn’t want to do this. Dear heaven, if she had her way Dimitri would disappear in a puff of smoke. But given that unlikelihood, she had to face facts.

  A discussion. Well, there was no harm in conducting a discussion. It didn’t mean she had to agree to anything.

  ‘I assume you’re aware how to reach Main Beach?’ she queried stiffly as Dimitri eased the car through the exit and branched off to connect with the main road leading through the heart of Surfer’s Paradise.

  ‘I acquainted myself with a map.’

  Chantelle settled for silence unless spoken to, and it was only when they neared the traffic-controlled intersection adjacent Main Beach that she offered directions.

  Trendy cafés lined the attractive boulevard, and it irked a little when he slid the car into a recently vacated parking spot.

  ‘Do you want to choose, or shall I?’ Dimitri queried as he locked the car and joined her on the pavement.

  She gave a faint shrug. ‘Coffee is coffee.’ It was a popular area, with patrons filling most of the outdoor tables.

  They wandered the southern end of the boulevard, and secured the first empty table available.

  The waitress was efficient, and appeared within minutes to take their order.

  ‘You’ve done an excellent job rearing Samuel.’

  Chantelle looked at him carefully. ‘Let’s not play games, Dimitri.’

  ‘Just cut straight to the chase?’

  The waitress returned with bottled water and two glasses, then crossed to another table.

  ‘It’s a wasted exercise, because I doubt there’s anything you suggest that I’ll agree to.’

  ‘Because you fear the effect on Samuel.’

  ‘Yes.’ She drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly. She held up a hand, and began ticking off opposing points on each finger. ‘He’s too young to travel without an accompanying adult. I wouldn’t want to entrust him to the care of anyone other than myself. I’m not in a position to take several leaves of absence from work.’ She paused beneath his intense interest, and endeavoured not to allow him to diminish her in any way. ‘You travel extensively. When would you be able to fit Samuel into your current lifestyle?’ She lifted a hand, then let it drop to the table. ‘Oh, dammit, none of this is easy!’

  The waitress delivered their coffee, and Chantelle watched as Dimitri added sugar to his, then took an appreciative sip.

  ‘What if I was to offer a solution?’ He replaced the cup down onto its saucer and spared her an enigmatic look.

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘We could marry.’

  Shock widened her eyes, and her face paled. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Samuel gains the security of a two-parent household,’ he elaborated. ‘If you choose to continue working, that’s your prerogative.’

  Chantelle viewed him steadily, unsure whether to laugh or cry. ‘You perceive that as a neat package. Loose ends tied, you get to have your son full-time on a permanent basis.’ Anger rose and threatened to burst the surface of her control. ‘What’s my part in all of this?’

  She couldn’t stop the words. ‘Do I get to play whore in the bedroom, and social hostess as and when required?’ Her voice lowered to a heartfelt huskiness. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks.’

  The thought of living with him, sharing his bed…oh, lord, don’t even go there!

  ‘Would it be so bad?’

  ‘How can you ask that?’

  ‘Samuel needs to know he’s my son. How do you think he’ll feel when we tell him I’m his father?’

  Her eyes blazed. ‘You think I haven’t agonised over that. Lost sleep over it?’

  ‘You imagine he won’t ask why we can’t live together?’ Dimitri pursued as he leaned back in his chair, presenting an image of unruffled composure. ‘What are you going to say to him?’

  ‘The truth,’ she managed shakily. ‘To his level of understanding.’

  ‘Which you expect him to accept?’

  Her coffee remained untouched, and she looked at it dispassionately, aware that if she took so much as a sip she’d be sick.

  ‘We have a good life. Samuel is a happy, well-balanced little boy. I don’t want that to change.’

  ‘It won’t.’

  ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘Easily.’

  Don’t you know I can’t live with you? she wanted to scream at him. Share your bed…and not wither and die a little each time knowing Samuel is your main concern and I’m little more than the baggage that accompanies him?

  ‘Dimitri—’

  ‘Think about it.’ He drained his cup, and looked askance as she left hers untouched. ‘Would you prefer a latte?’

  ‘I’d prefer to go home.’

  He wanted to extend his hand and pull her close, ease her fears and promise he’d take care of her. There were other words he wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time or the place.

  If he could dispense with the barriers she’d erected…Patience, he cautioned. A lot could happen in two weeks, and he intended to capitalise on every opportunity.

  He summoned the waitress, paid the bill, then rose to his feet.

  Chantelle didn’t offer so much as a word during the drive to Sovereign Islands. Instead, she gazed sightlessly at the tracery of lights reflected on the Broadwater, and she had her seat belt unbuckled as soon as Dimitri drew the car to a halt in Anouk’s driveway.

  She released the clasp and opened the door. ‘Good night.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  For a moment she looked at him blankly, then she remembered Andreas and Dimitri were joining them for the day on Jean-Paul’s cruiser.

  She slid from the passenger seat and closed the door behind her without uttering a further word.

  Indoors, she checked with Anouk that Samuel was settled in bed, then bade her mother ‘good night.’

  ‘Are you OK, chérie? You look pale.’

  ‘A headache,’ she invented, not wanting to begin a question-and-answer session, then immediately felt bad. Maternal love was a precious thing. ‘Dimitri asked me to marry him.’ She waited a beat. ‘I said no.’

  ‘Chantelle,’ Anouk protested sympathetically. ‘Chérie—’

  Chantelle lifted a hand. ‘Please, Maman. I beg you. Not now.’

  She made for the stairs, checked on Samuel, then quietly undressed and slipped into bed to lie awake until just before dawn.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SUNDAY provided little opportunity for Chantelle to discuss the previous evening with Anouk, as Samuel was inevitably within listening distance, and there was food to assemble for the day’s outing on Jean-Paul’s cruiser.

  Andreas and Dimitri arrived at ten, and within half an hour Jean-Paul had eased the large cruiser away from the jetty and headed into the main waterway.

  It was a beautiful day, the sun high in a clear azure sky, and Samuel became a focus as they headed for Couran Cove.

  ‘He’s a generously spontaneous child,’ Andreas complimented, as Dimitri hoisted Samuel into his arms for a clearer view.

  Chantelle proffered a warm smile. ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘I am proud he is my grandson,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Thank you. I have yet to tell Samuel.’

  ‘B
ut you will.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Oh, lord, the telling would raise several inquisitive questions…the most obvious one being why they weren’t living with his daddy…and worse, when would they?

  There was no doubt he liked Dimitri. In fact, liking was rapidly becoming affection.

  She should be pleased. It would make things easier.

  Not. The mere thought of sharing custody, being forced to let Samuel go from her care for specified lengths of time several times a year was enough to throw her into a nervous spin.

  As far as today was concerned, convention decreed she play the social game. As she had all too often during the past week.

  Thankfully Anouk, Jean-Paul and Andreas were present to act as a buffer. And Samuel, who delighted them all with his enthusiasm, his non-stop chatter and numerous questions about the boat, the harbour, and when they berthed at Couran Cove there were the resort attractions to amuse him.

  Dimitri was a natural in the role of father, always close by, so much a part of the inner family circle that to any onlooker they were a family.

  Which, strictly speaking, they were. Yet it was a fact she neither wanted to recognise nor accept.

  ‘He’s very good with Samuel,’ Anouk offered quietly when they were briefly alone.

  ‘Yes, isn’t he?’

  Without doubt Dimitri had earned her mother’s unqualified approval. Jean-Paul, a shrewd judge of character, appeared similarly won over. Samuel was a cinch…which left only her.

  Was she insane to knock back the sensible solution of marriage with him? As far as the sex was concerned, it would hardly be a hardship, and his wealth would ensure she’d never have to worry about money.

  But what about her own emotional heart? Could she exist in a marriage based on convenience? Live her life in Samuel’s shadow solely for his benefit?

  He was much too young to comprehend or understand such a sacrifice.

  Besides, she had a very nice life on her own merit.

  There was a well-paid job, a pleasant villa to live in, a small car, savings. She and Samuel were doing just fine.

  But wouldn’t it be good to have a man in your life? a wicked imp taunted silently. Someone to share the events of the day, to be taken care of, and a warm male body to curl into through the night?

  What about love? Shouldn’t that play an important part?

  The imp declined to answer.

  If Dimitri had an inkling of her inner struggle, he gave no sign. Although once or twice she caught his thoughtful gaze, and wondered at it. Then there were the few occasions when he stood close, and she felt the heat from his body, sensed the faint musky scent of his cologne…and silently damned her reaction.

  It should have been a relaxing day. Yet acting a part and keeping a smile permanently pinned in place took its toll, and by the time they left Couran Cove for Sovereign Islands she was nursing a headache.

  ‘Please stay for dinner.’ Anouk extended the invitation to Andreas and Dimitri as they reached home. ‘Just a simple meal of cold chicken, salads, with bread and fruit, a little wine.’

  Maman, Chantelle protested silently. Don’t do this.

  Except she was overruled by Jean-Paul’s enthusiasm and Samuel’s whoops of delight.

  ‘Only if you’ll allow me to reciprocate,’ Andreas agreed with a smile.

  So it was done, and while the men tended to the cruiser, Chantelle bathed and settled Samuel for a short nap, then she helped Anouk in the kitchen.

  ‘Are you going to tell me why you turned down Dimitri’s marriage proposal?’ Anouk deftly cut cooked chicken in portions and placed them on a large platter.

  Chantelle’s hands momentarily stilled in the process of washing salad greens. ‘It wasn’t so much a proposal as a convenient solution.’

  ‘And a convenient solution is such a bad thing?’

  ‘We’re doing fine on our own.’

  ‘Why are you so afraid, chérie?’ Anouk queried gently.

  Did her mother have to be so astute?

  ‘I don’t want to enter a marriage where love is one-sided or confined to mere affection.’

  ‘But is it? The chemistry between you is apparent to anyone who cares to look.’

  Chantelle began shaking excess water from the salad greens. ‘Next you’ll try to tell me I’m still in love with him.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  Now, there was the thing. For a few seconds her mother’s query locked the voice in her throat. ‘Sexual attraction, Maman. That’s all it is.’ And knew she lied.

  Samuel woke after an hour’s nap, and joined the men on the terrace.

  Chantelle set the outdoor table with plates, cutlery and napkins, added glassware, then carried out the food while Anouk cleared the kitchen.

  ‘Sit with me,’ Samuel pleaded minutes later. ‘Maman here.’ He patted the seat on his right. ‘And Dimitri there.’ The seat on his left received a pat. ‘Please,’ he added.

  ‘You’re the flavour of the month,’ Chantelle murmured as she moved past Dimitri, and heard his faint chuckle.

  He was too close.

  ‘That bothers you?’

  All she had to do was move an inch and her arm would touch his. ‘Why should it?’

  ‘Perhaps we could pursue this later?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she responded in an undertone, only to cut the conversation as Anouk, Jean-Paul and Andreas crossed to the table.

  It was a relaxed, convivial meal, although afterwards Chantelle could recall little of the conversation.

  Dusk became night, and Samuel urged Dimitri to witness his prowess with a Play Station game while Chantelle and Anouk took care of the dishes.

  Two male heads, Chantelle witnessed as she entered the family room to collect Samuel for bed. Both so dark, their body language so closely linked it brought a lump to her throat.

  ‘Time for bed, mon ange,’ she said gently, and saw him struggle with disappointment.

  ‘Can Dimitri read me a story? Please, Maman.’

  She wanted to say no, and almost did, except when it came to the crunch she couldn’t do it. ‘If it’s OK with Dimitri,’ she managed, aware of Dimitri’s steady gaze before it shifted back to their son.

  ‘Here’s the deal. I read the story, and Maman gets to tuck you in.’

  Chantelle watched Samuel lead Dimitri upstairs, and she valiantly ignored the sudden ache in the region of her heart.

  They were becoming close. Too close for her peace of mind. For what would happen when it came time to say goodbye?

  She allowed them twenty minutes, then she went up to Samuel’s room.

  Dimitri sat cross-legged on the floor close to Samuel’s bed, with a picture storybook in his hand, his voice quiet as he read the words.

  Samuel was trying to stay awake, but his eyelids were beginning to droop, then they flickered as he valiantly fought sleep, only to close as his breathing changed and he slept.

  Dimitri rose carefully to his feet, and stood for a moment looking at the sleeping child, then he turned and preceded her from the room, pausing as she quietly closed the door behind them.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She raised slightly startled eyes to meet his.

  ‘For today,’ he said quietly. He lifted a hand and brushed gentle fingers down one cheek. ‘Go take something for that headache.’

  How could he know? She opened her mouth, then closed it again, and nearly died as he lowered his head down to hers and took possession of her mouth in a lingering kiss that took hold of her senses and sent them spinning out of control.

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  There were words she wanted to say, but none came immediately to mind as they descended the stairs and joined the others in the lounge.

  Within minutes Andreas signalled their intention to leave, and amid voiced thanks for a wonderful day, the two men bade Anouk, Jean-Paul and Chantelle ‘good night.’

  Another day, another theme park.

  Chantelle str
uggled with her conscience as Dimitri eased the car into an empty space in the large parking area adjacent MovieWorld.

  In truth, each and every theme park was on her list of places to visit with Samuel. So why should it make any difference that Dimitri accompanied them?

  Except it did…in spades. His presence heightened her stress levels, and pitched her to tread a fine emotional edge that played havoc with her senses.

  She only had to look at his mouth to be forcibly reminded of just how it felt possessing her own…and her own eager response.

  This was a man with whom she’d shared every intimacy…the heat, the passion, the primeval, mesmeric hunger for each other…ecstasy at its zenith.

  The memory kept her awake too many nights, and when she slept he frequently haunted her dreams, causing her to wake in a tangle of bedcovers, her skin damp with sensual heat…only to discover she was alone, empty and aching.

  On the occasions she told herself she was dealing with it…there was Samuel, Dimitri in miniature, as a vivid permanent reminder of what had been.

  ‘Are we really going to see how they make movies?’

  Samuel’s voice penetrated her wayward thoughts, and she caught hold of his hand as they joined the queue at the ticket line.

  ‘It’s more like a movie show with live acts and stunts,’ she corrected, reaching for her purse. An action which incurred a dark glance from the man at her side. Worse, Dimitri covered her hand and firmly returned it to her side.

  Chantelle’s bid for independence both amused and irritated him. ‘We’ve already done this.’

  Samuel’s pleasure increased as the day progressed, and he was delighted with the various action shows, fascinated by the stunt actors, and through the eyes of a child…the apparent realism.

  It was proving to be a holiday he’d never forget, and although she’d planned it this way, she hadn’t envisaged Dimitri having any part in it.

  A chill shivered over the surface of her skin. Had Dimitri already sought legal counsel? Was a team of lawyers preparing custody papers ready to serve on her? Or was he hoping to persuade her marriage to him was a more satisfactory option?