In more ways than one. When Timothy had raised the gun in the favela, she'd thought their lives were over. She'd felt Diogo whirl around to protect her and the unborn twins with the shield of his body. But when the team of bodyguards stormed into the concrete house, he'd given a final frustrated scream—and turned the gun on himself.
The babies had arrived in Diogo's Bentley on the way to the hospital. In spite of the many potential complications of a multiple birth—particularly being born in the backseat of a car—both Ana and Gabriel were healthy and thriving. Another gift to be grateful for, in this bright Christmas season….
Christmas in New York. Three weeks ago, Diogo had bought Ellie this historic nine-bedroom mansion. With a backyard—extremely rare for the Upper East Side—and a rooftop garden with a view of Central Park, the house was a showplace that had cost nearly fifty million dollars.
No, Diogo didn't fool around when it came to giving presents, she thought wryly.
Every day, he found some new way of making her happy. He didn't realize that just having him love her and the children was the greatest gift of all.
“Where's Ana?” Diogo asked.
“Sleeping in her bassinet.”
“Lucky baby.” With another yawn, Diogo went to pour himself some coffee in the kitchen. He'd been up with his son for most of the night. Gabriel only seemed interested in night sleeping if his father held him against his chest, walking him up and down the creaking hallways.
Ellie glanced fondly at baby Ana, sleeping soundly in the bassinet. She was a much better sleeper than her brother—perhaps because Ana was more mature. After all, she was older by four minutes.
“Papa!” Catia begged, jumping up and down in agony. She'd already put on her coat over her pajamas and boots on her bare feet.
“I can help you, kiddo,” Lilibeth said as she came down the stairs. “I can show how to make a snowman. I'm a pro. Just let me put on my lipstick.”
“Lipstick?” Ellie exclaimed. “Who do you expect to meet in the backyard?”
“A woman never knows where she'll find her prince,” Lilibeth said airily. “But I'm only free until New Year's Eve. Harold Wynn is taking me out to the Flint Factory Ball!”
Ellie repressed a smile. Lilibeth had really come into her own since they'd returned to the U.S. But she insisted on keeping her own home in Flint, though she often spent weekends in New York visiting her grandchildren and shopping on Fifth Avenue. She'd become queen of her own town, driving all over in her yellow Ferrari, hosting Diogo at her house when he'd come to negotiate to buy the old factory.
He'd created a new subsidiary to sell specialty metals abroad, and decided Flint was the perfect location for the factory. As Ellie had been unwilling to travel much since the babies were born, Lilibeth had become his de facto hostess. She'd recently bought the biggest mansion on Main Street—the house that had gone on the market after Timothy Wright's shocking suicide.
“I never liked that man,” Lilibeth had told her gravely when she learned of his baby-selling business. “I told you all along to wait for your true love, Ellie. Aren't you glad you listened to me!”
Ellie's smile faded. She still felt troubled when she remembered how Timothy had shot himself that horrible day in the favela. And yet, she admitted quietly to herself, she was glad to know that he would never threaten her family again, or try to steal another woman's baby for his own profit.
Snuggling her son a little closer, she watched her grandmother, now chic in her signature bright orange lipstick and wearing a black puffy coat, run outside to play with Catia in the snow.
“Papa, you have to come, too!” the little girl insisted, pausing at the door. “Come now!” she ordered, every bit as bossy as her father. Then she ran into the backyard to play.
Diogo stared after her ruefully then shook his head. “I guess I have to go play in the snow.” He sighed. “Unless you need me?” he added hopefully.
She smiled at him, loving him with all her heart. “I always need you. But at the moment, I think Catia needs you more.” Ellie looked down at the hungry baby making contented gulps against her breast. His eyes were closed and he slept drowsily as she stroked his soft, downy hair. “Your son will keep me busy for some time.”
For several moments, they both looked down at their babies.
“Thank you for the best Christmas gift any man has ever had.” Diogo's dark eyes met hers. “I love you, Ellie.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he stopped her with a light kiss that soon deepened into something far more provocative.