“Oh.” She nodded clumsily. “Yes. I should be out of your hair soon, in fact.”
At his thunderous look of disapproval, she stood. “Truly, Alex, I’m feeling much better. There’s no reason for me to be here …”
He placed the bags on the bench and moved steadily towards her. “There are many reasons for you to be here, and the most obvious one is that you are my wife.”
She looked down at the thickly carpeted floor. “Nothing’s changed since that day in Corfu.”
“No, it hasn’t.” His eyes glittered darkly in his handsome face. “I love you as much now as I did then. I want you as my wife more now than that day, because I know now how empty I feel without you.”
“You married me to break Eric and me up,” she said sharply.
He laughed. “I think I really believed that too. But actually, dear Sophie, I married you because I couldn’t live without you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I hated the idea of you and Eric together; not because I felt concern for my sister, but because I felt more jealousy and despair than I have ever known.”
She shook her head slowly, and Alex took advantage of her silence.
“Now, I have a favour to ask of you.”
“A favour?” She repeated in surprise, her frustration increasing.
“Yes. Do you feel able to sit here, at one of these stools?”
She looked at the kitchen suspiciously. “Why?”
“Well, I thought I would try my hand at your famous pudding. If you tell me what to do, that is.”
Sophie felt a sting of emotion in her chest. He felt guilty. He was over-compensating. “You don’t have to do this.”
His smile was dazzling. “I want you to be my wife for the rest of my life. Do you get that?” He held her hands to his chest, and stared into her soul, hoping she would understand his sincerity. “I want to feel about Christmas as you do, and one day, I want our children to speak of you as you do your mother.”
Tears clogged her eyes at his words, but Alex ploughed on.
“There will be children for us, Sophie. Not now, but one day. And they will be fierce and loyal and clever and beautiful, just as you are.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered darkly. “I loved you so much. I ignored all of the cautious words in my brain, because I just trusted so implicitly that my instincts were right. And I got burned.” She swallowed back any further expansion on that subject. It was not necessary for her to detail how achingly sad she’d been.
“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “And if I could take it all back, I would.”
Her eyes were pools of doubt. “You’re asking me to take a really big risk.”
“Yes.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “But slowly.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Just don’t run away from me again. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”
She exhaled slowly. “You’re the one who ran away. You were gone most of our very short marriage.”
“True.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want to miss you like I did.” Her cheeks flamed at the honest admission, and she loathed it for its neediness.”
“I wonder if you realised how I pined for you while I was gone.”
Her voice was cold. “I find it hard to believe.”
“Do you? Then you do not understand how much I cherish you. I ached for your touch and I craved your words. I went because I couldn’t trust myself not to confess everything to you. I hoped, in my wildest imaginings, that you would absolve me of guilt and tell me Eric meant nothing to you. That he was in your past and I your future.”
“Eric was nothing to me, even in my past. Just a friend I cared for. Whose wife I worried about. Nothing romantic. Nothing.”
“I know that now.”
“So why didn’t you do that? Tell me the truth, and let me explain. It would have been resolved so easily if we’d talked. Instead you avoided me and raged at me and blamed me for everything.”
“Because in my worst nightmares, which consumed me for the most part, I thought you would leave me instantly. That you would return to London and Eric, and Helena and I would have both lost the people we loved.”
“That’s … the fears of a mad man.”
“Yes. Absolutely. I was crazy. I completely agree.”
She laughed despite herself. It felt good to laugh. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“About everything.” He shrugged. “I know it is taking the easy way out, but I think I knew all along that you weren’t capable of doing what I accused you of.”
“I would never break up a marriage.” She couldn’t help it. She lifted a hand and traced the outline of his lips. His stubble was like sandpaper. “I told you about my mum. She was the other woman in a marriage, and she was burned by it. She had no clue our father was married. But it doesn’t change anything. She made us understand what a monumental mistake she had made. It’s not in my biology to do what you thought I had.”
“I know.” He kissed her fingertips and his eyes begged her to believe him. “So will you include me in your secret pudding recipe now?”
She pursed her lips and pretended to think. “Well, that depends.”
“Oh?” His expression was mocking, but his heart was barely moving. He was on tenterhooks, waiting to know if she would give him the second chance he so desperately needed.
“Our pudding is no laughing matter. It takes serious skills. I have to see if you’ve got what it takes before I make up my mind.”
He exhaled with giddy relief. “Well then, Mrs Petrides, take a seat and give me a shot.”
10
Christmas 2014, London.
“John!” Sophie burst out laughing. “You’re going to spill everything.”
John grinned at her. “Nope. I’m not. I promise.”
She arched a brow and regarded Helena over the very confident little boy’s head. Helena’s eyes sparkled as she shrugged back.
As John reached the table, the tray he was haphazardly holding began to tilt, and would have tipped entirely were it not for Alex’s quick reflexes. Alex gripped both sides and smiled gratefully at the little boy, who skipped off, apparently none the wiser.
“He’s very … helpful,” Helena said apologetically.
“Oh, yes,” Eric laughed, putting an arm around his wife’s waist. “He’s our little Jeeves.”
Sophie leaned back in the leather chair. She didn’t know it, but she was practically glowing with contentment. She missed her sisters like wildfire, but at the same time, she truly felt like she was home.
Alex lifted a flute of champagne from the table and handed it to Sophie. She held it and smiled up at him. She hadn’t tasted champagne since the night in Corfu with Olivia, and the smell of the sweet bubbles brought pleasant memories back to her.
“So, let’s run through our checklist.” He crouched down beside her, his eyes teasing. “We decorated the tree a week ago. Does it meet your requirements?”
She looked beyond him at the beautiful alpine specimen and nodded. For someone who’d missed out on the special Christmas traditions, he’d caught up incredibly quickly. There were unique, custom-made decorations from Murano, and stars with their names on them, including her sisters and their parents. And he’d even had Ava send over a few of the very special heirloom decorations from the vineyard.
“And we’ve made an exceptional pudding.”
“Well, we won’t know that until we try it tonight,” she argued.
“We’ve made gingerbread houses with the boys.”
“And I ate a lot of dough.”
“Yes,” he shifted his eyes heavenward. “So much so that I thought you might be sick.”
“Always a risk I’m willing to take.”
“And I have a present for you.”
She pouted. “But it’s Christmas Eve. Presents come tomorrow.”
“Perhaps. But I want you to have this. It’s overdue.”
That got her attention. “What is it?” She prompted c
uriously.
“It is in Eric’s office.”
“Oh.”
Alex held his hands out for Sophie and she put hers in them.
“Can I come? Can I come?” John bounded behind them, and Ian followed him silently.
Alex shook his head. “Not this time, little one.”
“I’m not little,” he retorted fiercely, and Alex laughed.
“No, of course not. You’re growing inches by the day.” He shepherded Sophie into the study and closed the door on the two anxious little faces beyond.
“That was a tad cruel.”
“Was it?”
“You know it was.”
He grinned. “I am a selfish man. I wanted my wife to myself for this.”
“What is it?” Her blood had begun to pound in her veins, as it always did when Alex and she were alone together. She wondered, distractedly, if that would ever change. If one day, she might even begin to take his gloriousness for granted.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box. She recognised it. “My ring?”
He shook his head. “Try again.”
Sophie took the box curiously and flipped the lid. Inside was the most perfect ring she’d ever seen. Dainty and elegant, a single circlet of yellow and white diamonds formed one band. It was sunny and it was pretty without being outrageously ostentatious.
“It suits you far better.”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I’ll say.” He slipped it onto her finger and admired the effect.
“I beg you, Sophie, to be my wife. For the rest of our lives. Please know that I love you and will do anything you ever ask of me. Except leave you,” he tacked on with a self-mocking smile. “Do not ask it of me, for I can’t do it.”
She laughed shakily. “Not much chance of that.” She stared at the ring, her smile beaming. “Oh, Alex. It’s so perfect. I truly love it.” Her enormous blue eyes lifted to his face. “But … what about my old ring? It’s too gorgeous not to wear.”
“Ah. I thought of that.” He reached onto Eric’s desk and lifted another velvet box. It was the same colour, but a slightly different size. Alex flipped the top and extended it to Sophie.
The solitaire was there, but it had been reset, and a chain attached, so that it formed a stunning pendant. “For special occasions,” he said thickly.
“Perfect,” she whispered once more.
“It is you who is perfect, Mrs Petrides. I just have to find a way to deserve you.”
“Well,” she pretended to consider that. “You do have a lifetime.”
“And I intend to enjoy it.”
He kissed her then with all the tenderness and love that he felt for her. Life was so much better than he’d ever hoped it could be, and it was all because he had this beautiful woman to share it with.
Epilogue
“I can’t eat another thing!” Sophie groaned, pushing aside the bowl of pudding.
“But you haven’t finished your third serve of pudding,” Helena remarked with mock surprise.
“Don’t laugh. I’m known for my ability to eat almost an entire one on my own. I live for pudding.”
“If you love it so much, why not make it all year ‘round, Soph?” Eric asked with a confused expression.
Sophie lifted her hands and clutched them to her chest in a gesture of mock pain. “You can’t be serious. There’s something very wrong with that idea. Pudding is wonderful, but it’s just for Christmas time.”
“And so you eat a whole year’s worth in one sitting, just to avoid being preposterous?” Helena chimed in, her smile natural and beautiful on her elegant face.
“Yep. That’s pretty much it.”
Alex appeared in the door frame, a strange look on his face. “Agape mou, your sister is on the phone.”
“She is? Which sister? Which phone?”
“Ava. In the kitchen.”
Sophie smiled apologetically at Helena and Eric and moved swiftly through the townhouse.
“Hey! Merry Christmas!” She called down the phone line, and then froze when silence greeted her.
“Ava? What is it? Is it Milly? Cristiano?” There was silence as Ava mentally tallied all of the information she had kept from her sisters. Not intentionally. But she’d been so wrapped up in her own mess of a life that she hadn’t known what to say. Only Olivia’s email had forced her to make contact.
“No, no. It’s Liv.”
“Liv?”
Sophie felt a prickle of tension in her spine. She eased herself down at the table and took a deep breath. “What about Liv?”
“Didn’t you see the email?”
“No. I haven’t checked my phone all day. I’m sorry. What is it? What did she say?” Relief was an overpowering emotion when she realised that at least Olivia was alive, to be sending emails.
“You and she are as bad as each other,” Ava grumbled angrily. “First you and Alessandro, and now Olivia.”
“What about Olivia?”
“She says she’s getting married to some guy. God, read the email.”
Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know how to while I’m talking to you. What did it say?”
Ava began to read, her voice shaking from shock. “I know I’ve been terrible with emails lately. I’m sorry, but when you read this, you’re going to understand. I’ve met someone. Someone special. Oh boy, I hope you’re both sitting down. Because I’ve just agreed to marry him. And that’s not even the shocking part… ”
Sophie dipped her head forward. “That’s all she said?”
“Yes.”
“But who? She never said anything? What? When? I just … I don’t understand.”
“No. That makes two of us.”
“Alex will be able to help.”
“He can try, but Olivia’s disappeared into thin air. The agency she worked for have no clue. Her home phone’s not ringing. Her mobile’s making a weird blee-blee-bloop noise whenever I call it.”
“No, she wouldn’t do that to us. She’ll be in touch. Soon, too. This is Liv! She’s the glue! Come on, Ava. She’ll be okay.”
“She’s too bloody trusting is what she is. Any guy with a smile and a nice car and she’s sold.”
“She’s not that bad.”
“Yes she is. I’m not saying it to be prickly, but because it’s the truth.”
Sophie pressed her lips together. “I’ll see what Alex can find out.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Sure.”
“Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“Did Milly get the presents I sent?”
There was silence for a slight moment too long. It struck Sophie as odd. But then again, Ava was in a strange mood. Her worry about Olivia was obvious.
“Yeah, she loved them. She’s resting now or I’d put her on to say thanks.”
“I’ll catch her tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“Try not to worry, Aves. Liv’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’ll be okay.”
Ava disconnected the call without responding, and Sophie silently echoed her sister’s desperation. For while Olivia was sensible and intelligent, she was also wild and impetuous, and it was very, very possible that she’d bitten off far more than she could chew.
Only time, of course, would tell.
THE END
The Brazilian’s Forgotten Lover
Prologue
There are some people who live such a charmed existence that they cannot possibly comprehend what true hardship is. People who seem to walk upon rose petals and dream only of gold dust.
Cristiano Cesar Barata was, at one time, just such a person.
The only son of parents who doubted they would ever be blessed with children, he was worshipped and cossetted from the moment his being was discovered. Affluent and socially influential, there was nothing his family would not do to guarantee him every advantage in life.
Even without his parents’ willingness to enable his success and happiness
, Cristiano had more personal charms than was fair. As a child, he had drawn stares for his handsome little face and swarthy complexion. As a teen, he discovered that women would fall to their knees at almost a single glance. And as a twenty eight year old man, he felt he had all the answers to life.
Life, after all, was for fun and frivolity.
Until he met Ava, he could have had no idea that some people faced monumental struggles each and every day.
Until he met Ava, he couldn’t have known that his answers to life were all wrong.
Until he met Ava, Cristiano Barata, at twenty eight years old, was still very much a boy.
Ava.
The woman who had changed him, for good.
Despite the passage of several years, thoughts of that one glorious month were thick in his mind.
How could he not have been reflective; lost to the mammoth beast that was his past with her? As his hire car ate up the miles from Perth, he was driving not simply towards a destination, but deep into a part of his history that he took great pains never to re-visit.
He gripped the wheel until the knuckles of his broad, tanned hands glowed white.
Ava.
His groan was an audible complaint in the luxurious confines of the car.
How long had it been? Five years? Four? No, not quite. Only three. It felt longer, and he didn’t want to analyse why. After all, they’d only known each other for four weeks. And she was married now to someone else.
His gut clenched with remembered insult. Angus Edwards. A boy. His lips curled in a derisive sneer. That she had preferred his insipid, boring safety over the relationship Cristiano had offered had been the ultimate insult.
Ava had provided Cristiano with the first bitter taste of heartbreak and defeat…
And he would never forgive her for it.
1
The day was warm and the dough had risen quickly. Ava punched it back with more force than was necessary.
She was nervous. How could she be anything but?
Her eyes lifted, for the millionth time, to the enormous windows above the sinks. They perfectly framed the view of the rows of vines that rolled their way gently towards the sparkling Indian Ocean.