Sometimes Bianca couldn’t believe how perfect their life was. She had longed for a family of her own but had never been certain it would happen—for it had been nothing but a faceless dream. But now the faces had been coloured in and she could see them quite clearly. Xanthos and Noelle, and very soon a baby brother or sister to join their darling daughter.
‘Happy?’ questioned Xanthos.
‘Are you?’
‘More than you will ever know,’ he said, his voice reflective.
He led her over to the window where they looked out at the palace courtyard. At the snow-covered grounds, which looked magical in the silvery brightness of the moon. But all the beauty of the external world didn’t hold a candle to the beauty of the man who stood before her. She rose on tiptoe to brush her lips over his and felt the wildfire response of the sexual desire which had always flamed between them. His hands reached down to mould the shape of her bottom through her silky dress and to draw her towards him, as if to impress upon her the hard heat of his body, before lifting her up and carrying her over to the bed.
‘Have we...have we got time before tonight’s formal dinner?’ she questioned breathlessly, as he began to slither her panties down with a speed which thrilled her.
‘That depends on how many times I make you come,’ he growled, and she gave a little gurgle of hunger as she fumbled for the buttons of his shirt.
And then he was inside her, filling her completely—heart and body and soul—taking her soaring to that place of total satisfaction. It was only afterwards, when they’d showered and dressed and she hoped the flush of her cheeks had quietened down before they presented themselves at the royal banquet, that Xanthos pulled her into his arms again.
‘You still haven’t answered my question,’ he murmured, smoothing her newly brushed hair away from her face.
It was a question which didn’t require an answer—they both knew that. But she gave it anyway, because she liked to remind herself how lucky she was.
‘Hand on heart,’ she said, placing his palm over her breast, ‘I never thought I could be this happy. And there’s something else, Xanthos. Something I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I don’t think I can wait that long.’ She paused, savouring every second. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Xanthos stared deep into her eyes. Once before she had said these words and his reaction had been nothing more than lukewarm, but in the intervening years he had learnt to accept his emotions. More than that—to embrace and to revel in them. From the very beginning he had felt differently towards her than he had towards any other woman. He remembered his fierce need to protect her when their plane had crashed. After that had come his admiration and respect and eventually his love, which had just grown and grown. He thought about their beloved child and the new life which was growing inside her.
Hadn’t there been moments when he’d been so full of joy as a result of everything she’d given him that he’d wanted to throw his head back and roar like a lion?
He smiled, then laughed.
Because this, he realised, was his moment.