‘Not one bit more than I love you,’ Amy whispered, wrapped in a cocoon of contentment and happiness.
EPILOGUE
AMYPUTTHEfinishing touches of jewellery to her appearance: diamonds in her ears and that once-disputed river-of-diamonds necklace at her throat. She clasped a slender gold watch to her wrist, and she smiled in the fading winter light that had forced her to switch on the lamps. Her sapphire-blue dress was cunningly cut to conceal most of her bump.
Marco and Vito were three now, a pair of very lively little boys who kept her on her toes but, once they had started nursery school, Amy had been keen to extend their family and she was quietly looking forward to the arrival of the little girl she was carrying and wondering with amusement if her daughter would turn into a little tomboy to hold her own with her two older brothers.
Becoming a mother had lifted Amy’s confidence almost as much as Sev’s love and support had contrived to do. In the spring after that first Christmas together, they had got married in Greece, surrounded by Sev’s Greek family, the Sarantos clan. Bowled over by the warmth of their welcome, Amy had soon accepted Sev’s family as her own and their wedding had been a wonderfully happy, informal occasion. The twins’ birth had been without complication and Sev’s father, Hallas, and stepmother, Pandora, had travelled to London to welcome their arrival. Add in the growing closeness between Sev and his half-brother, Tor, who was also based in London and married with young children, and Amy felt surrounded by loving family support, something she had dreamt of all her life but never seriously expected to have. She got on particularly well with Tor’s wife, Pixie, who had been a nurse before her marriage.
Sev still had no contact with his mother and stepfather. Amy had seen his mother stare coldly at them both at a charity event, her disdain palpable, and had marvelled at her lack of affection for a son who, to all intents and purposes, she should have been proud to possess. She had been so grateful then that his father’s family were so attached to Sev that he had shaken off that encounter with his unfeeling mother without concern, her attitude to him too familiar to be wounding. Perhaps it had made Amy more appreciative of her husband’s resilience, but it had certainly made her admire her sister-in-law, Annabel, all the more for having been raised by such a woman and having still turned into a completely different individual.
Annabel, in fact, had steadily grown into being Amy’s best friend. The two women had shared a great deal during their first pregnancies, although it had been weeks before Amy finally let Sev’s sister into the secret that she was Oliver Lawson’s daughter. Annabel had been shocked and then sympathetic, warmly cherishing that extra bond between them, which meant that Amy’s twins were even more closely related than cousins to Annabel’s little daughter, Sophia. Annabel was currently dating an archaeologist and, although her parents were speaking to her again, relations between them remained cool.
Amy had seen nothing more of her father, and Annabel had had no further contact other than through her solicitor with the father of her child. Oliver’s wife had divorced him, and he was no longer CEO of her family insurance company. Her curiosity satisfied on the score of her parentage, Amy rarely thought about the older man. Sev’s love and the support of his Greek family were more than enough to keep her feeling secure and appreciated.
Now as she walked downstairs in Oaktree Hall, she spread an approving glance over the festive decorations and the many changes in the house that she had instigated since her marriage. The rooms had been redecorated and the furniture updated until a warm and pleasant ambience between old and new had been created.
Kipper sprang up from the hearth to come and greet her, Harley in his wake. Hopper, old as the hills now, rose more slowly on his three legs and, seeing that Amy was doing the moving, sensibly lay down again rather than tax himself, his little stub of a tail wagging slowly back and forth.
Oaktree Rescue had been launched as a charity a couple of years earlier and under Sev’s guiding hand had thrived and expanded to include horses. The stable yard was no longer empty and Sev had taken up riding again. Amy called the shelter his hobby and concentrated her work in the day-to-day running of the operation as well as organising fundraising and rehoming events. They both thrived on being busy but also ensured that they took regular holidays.
Sev came through the rear door in the hall that led out to the back entrance. His black hair was windblown, his jawline stubbled, his riding gear muddy and yet he still took her breath away because he was not one atom less stunning in looks than he had been on the day she married him.
‘You’re looking...pretty amazing,’ Sev breathed, his dark deep drawl dropping in tenor to one of husky sensuality as he surveyed her standing there below the towering tree, which was awash with ornaments and lights. Slight of build as she was, her pregnancy only showed when she turned to one side and her violet eyes were every bit as riveting as they had been the very first time he saw her. ‘I’m glad our visitors won’t be here for another hour or so—’
‘Annabel’s arriving early,’ Amy told him gently, warning off the hungry glitter in his gaze even as her own body warmed to that appraisal.
‘My sister is marvellous at making herself at home here...as for my father’s crew, according to the text I got their flight’s running late.’
Two identical little boys in riding gear bowled through the front door, both of them blond and dark-eyed with their father’s bone structure. They were squabbling about who had got through the wide door first, their competitive edge well honed since babyhood. In their wake came their nanny, Ellie, who had been living with the family since the twins’ birth, freeing up Amy and allowing her to work.
As Sev was engulfed by his enthusiastic sons he told them firmly, ‘Bath...supper...bed...story...’ in a familiar mantra to which neither was listening, and Amy laughed as Marco and Vito burbled in frantic excitement about Santa Claus visiting some kids on Christmas Eve to leave the presents early.
‘He’s definitely not cominghereearly,’ Sev assured them straight-faced.
‘No?’ Marco begged in disappointment.
‘No,’ Amy declared with finality. ‘If we get any presents, we will be opening them tomorrow on Christmas Day.’
‘If?’Vito queried in horror.
Ellie bundled the twins upstairs, still complaining. Sev drew Amy into his arms. ‘It’s going to be another wonderful Christmas,cara mia.’
Amy breathed in the fresh outdoorsy scent of him and felt her heart race as their eyes collided. ‘Did your hotline to Santa tell you that?’
Sev grinned. ‘No. Just looking at you told me that.’
He kissed her and she fell into that kiss like melting ice cream on a sunny day, her whole body thrilling to that sudden surge of passion.
‘I need a shower,’ he breathed raggedly, his body hard and urgent against hers.
‘I’m already dressed,’ she moaned with a quiver.
‘I’m insanely in love with you,’ Sev muttered against her cheek.
Amy flexed against his lean, muscular length and whispered, ‘I love you too. Twenty minutes,’ she negotiated.
‘Not long enough,’ he told her, demanding another devastating kiss before urging her upstairs. ‘It takes time to appreciate you. I’m not a twenty-minute guy.’
Amy laughed, and fenced back with examples of past stolen moments. They disappeared into their bedroom with Sev still flexing his healthy ego, but by then he was laughing as well, grinning down at her, still utterly enchanted by her sparkling sunny nature. ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ he had cynically labelled her early in their relationship, never dreaming that she was exactly what he needed most in his life.