Erin feasted her eyes on her handsome husband. He looked spectacular in his dark designer suit. The female photographer was watching him as though dinner had just walked through the door, but Erin was accustomed to the buzz that Cristo brought to the women in a room and it didn’t bother her. Jenny came through the door with Lorcan and Nuala. Nuala, adorable in a fancy party dress, skipped over to show it off to her father, little hands holding out the skirt as if she were about to perform a curtsy.
Lorcan took his hands out of his pockets at his father’s request and then ran off to try and climb the huge palm tree in the centre of the foyer.
‘Lorcan!’ Cristo yelled, and he strode over to lift his squirming son off the trunk and imprisoned him under one arm, talking to the little boy before setting him down again.
‘Lorcan’s such a boy,’ Nuala pronounced, rolling her eyes with pained superiority.
Erin’s mother held out her hands to the children and they latched onto her immediately, begging her to take them down to the beach.
‘I wonder what the third one will be like,’ Cristo commented, his dark golden gaze dipping briefly to the barely perceptible bump visible below Erin’s dress.
‘A mix of our genes, some good, some bad.’
‘I can’t wait to see our baby,’ Cristo confessed.
A warm sense of tenderness filled Erin, and only their public location stopped her leaning in to hug him. She hadn’t initially been sure about how another child would fit into their busy lives, but one of the main reasons she’d come round to the idea had been the awareness that Cristo had missed out on the experience of the twins as babies. While she had conceived faster than she had expected, she had thoroughly enjoyed having a supportive, interested male by her side to share every development in her pregnancy and the sight of Cristo with tears in his eyes when he saw the first scan of their child was one she would never forget.
The evening wore on in chats with influential people and business associates. The twins were whisked home to bed and Cristo, his attention consistently returning to his wife’s lovely face and smile, was unashamedly relieved when they could finally take their leave of their guests.
‘I hate being away from you now,’ he confided, lifting her out of the four-wheel drive he had taken her home in.
‘You’re not away half as much as you used to be.’
‘I can do a lot of my work at home.’ At the foot of the stairs he swung her up in his arms and insisted on carrying her the rest of the way in spite of her protests. ‘I know your feet are killing you, latria mou.’
She kicked her shoes off when he put her down, holding up the skirt of her gown so that she didn’t trip on the trailing hem. ‘But the shoes did look gorgeous,’ she pointed out.
Cristo framed her laughing face with tender hands. ‘You don’t need to suffer to look beautiful.’
‘Only a man could say that. I still can’t believe that you were born with eyebrows that stay in shape,’ Erin lamented. ‘It’s so unfair.’
‘I would love you even without all the waxing,’ Cristo intoned huskily.
Erin tried to imagine getting into bed with a pair of hairy legs and barely repressed a shudder. ‘The things you say.’
‘I’m trying to impress you with how crazy I am about you.’ Cristo sighed with a long-suffering look belied by the amusement dancing in his dark golden eyes. ‘It’s an uphill challenge.’
‘No, it’s not. I love you too, naturally perfect brows included,’ his wife informed him, gazing up at him with an appreciation she couldn’t hide. Mine, every natural instinct said and she adored the fact.
He bent his handsome dark head and kissed her softly with all the skill at his disposal, and her head swam and her knees wobbled and the glory of loving Cristo swept over her like a consuming tide, filled with happiness and acceptance and pure joy.
This summer, we’ve got some fabulous treats to give away!