Chapter Four #3
‘Yes, I do. This is my life, not yours,’ Tabby reminded him gently. ‘I’m perfectly content for you to take an interest after the children are born, but anything more at this stage falls under the heading of interference…and I don’t appreciate that approach.’
‘I have a suggestion to make,’ Aristide informed her.
Tabby tensed, reckoning that a suggestion from Aristide would ultimately prove as serious and immovable as a royal command. She lifted her chin, striving to seem as though she were a receptive audience when she didn’t feel as if she could be.
Aristide stalked over to the window, bred-in-the-bone fluid grace edging his every lithe movement.
He swung round, brilliant dark golden eyes pinning her in place.
‘We need to get to know each other better. We can’t be at each other’s throats while we are trying to raise children together,’ he told her grimly.
‘Well, I certainly hope it won’t be as bad as that.
’ Tabby swallowed with difficulty at that challenging opener of a dialogue.
‘I think you’re talking about a scenario that happens in an ideal world but unfortunately we don’t live in that version,’ she completed uncomfortably, unable to comprehend getting to know Aristide better in their current non-relationship.
‘But if we are both willing to make the effort to become accustomed to each other, it is achievable.’
While we’re trying to raise children together.
That single phrase sounded like the bell of doom clanging in Tabby’s delicate ears.
She wasn’t ready to establish any kind of togetherness with Aristide.
She expected to have to consult him about matters relating to their children and that would be that.
His expectations, however, clearly were higher than her own.
‘For that reason I suggest that you accompany me to Greece for a couple of weeks, meet my family, learn the lie of the land in my home,’ Aristide drawled casually. ‘Our children will be spending time in Greece.’
Tabby’s head flipped round, her blue eyes very wide in sheer shock and surprise. ‘My word, I wasn’t expecting that invitation! It’s a lovely idea but—’
‘I don’t want to hear why you can’t do it… I want to hear that you can and will make that effort.’
Tabby winced, her teeth gritting. ‘Right now it isn’t possible. With the best will in the world, I’m taking care of my sister’s business—’
‘And I could put a manager in there tomorrow…or she could,’ Aristide sliced in without hesitation. ‘Take that responsibility away and there is no longer anything tying you to the UK for the immediate future.’
‘I couldn’t let you do that—’
‘Why not? You’re exhausted. You need a break. Your health and well-being should come first right now,’ Aristide told her unarguably.
‘I believe that it could be very awkward meeting your family for the first time when I’m pregnant and I’m not even your girlfriend,’ Tabby pointed out in a strained and stiff undertone, keen not to offend him.
‘Then we should present ourselves as an engaged couple. That’s the conventional answer to our predicament. Surely that would make you feel more comfortable and less ill-at-ease?’
Tabby was stunned by the concept. ‘Fake an engagement, you mean?’
‘Why not? A fair proportion of engagements don’t make it as far as the wedding,’ Aristide countered with glancing cynicism.
‘I don’t see any harm in a pretence of that nature while we’re in Greece.
We can let the arrangement die away naturally a few months down the road…
but in the short term, it would strengthen your position in my life.
Family and friends respect ties of that nature. ’
In a sudden movement, Tabby stood up tall and studied him with accusing blue eyes.
In her own mind’s eye, she saw herself transformed from the foolish young woman who had had a one-night fling with Aristide and, unfortunately from his point of view, managed to conceive, to a young woman in control of her life.
It was a seductive image even though she knew it wasn’t and wouldn’t be genuine or real.
She compressed her lips, deciding that his intelligence had a positively Machiavellian turn.
‘You turn me inside out,’ she muttered accusingly.
‘You actually have me considering this crazy idea!’
‘It’s not crazy. You’re simply stuck in your little groove and refusing to consider more promising options.’
Tabby ground her teeth together at the reproof but held her tongue.
But was that how he viewed her? As too conventional and distinctly unadventurous?
Her pride was stung. ‘All right,’ she said curtly.
‘If we can get the bakery covered in time and Violet is happy with that decision, I’ll go to Greece with you. ’
Aristide’s dark eyes glittered like gold ingots in strong sunlight, satisfaction winging through him in an intoxicating wave.
He knew that he was being manipulative and he really didn’t feel an atom of regret.
Within days, he’d have a ring on her finger.
A man could not afford to baulk at a solid wall of resistance, he had to get across it any way he could.
A sapphire, he had decided, a gorgeous sapphire to match those stubborn, sparkling blue eyes.
‘Phone your sister and tell her what you want to do and seek her approval,’ he advised smoothly.
‘I’ll concentrate on drumming up replacement managers. ’
Refreshments were served. Tea, for her, coffee for him and tiny delectable sandwiches followed by a selection of pastries.
Tabby ate with appetite. Her anti-nausea medication was keeping her sickness at bay while encouraging her to eat a little more.
She phoned her twin and brought her up to speed while she paced in Aristide’s airy hall.
‘Greece?’ Violet squealed in astonishment. ‘Gosh, this is so exciting—’
‘No, it’s not,’ Tabby contradicted. ‘It’s a pretend engagement, not a real one, which is why I decided not to tell Mum about it.’
‘I’m not sure I see the point,’ her sister disappointed her by admitting. ‘I mean, it’s not like an engagement ties either of you down legally in any way—’
‘It will make me feel better…as if I have some actual status in his life when I meet his family,’ Tabby whispered, but only after checking that the door back into Aristide’s presence was fully closed. ‘But it’s all smoke and mirrors this way, isn’t it? He knew exactly how to get me fully onboard.’
‘I thought you hated him—’
‘Well, I do…sometimes,’ she adjusted in growing embarrassment.
‘Just not all the time?’ her twin prompted with audible amusement.
‘He’s right on one score. Neither of us need any added stress or drama right now.’
‘Twins!’ Violet squealed in sheer anticipation.
‘One of whom is definitely a boy,’ Tabby reminded her sister, ‘but I still have to tell Aristide that I got the call about the blood test today.’
A boy and a girl, one of each, she rather hoped, thinking that that mix would be company for each other as she and Violet had been while each pursuing their own interests.
‘A boy,’ Aristide repeated minutes later, when she told him the results of the blood test. ‘So, I will have possibly two sons or a son and a daughter. When will we know for certain?’
‘In another few weeks. I’ll need another ultrasound,’ she explained, her attention locked to his lean, strong features and the interest unhidden there in the vibrant gleam of his expressive eyes. ‘Be warned that you can get an erroneous result. The process isn’t foolproof.’
Nobody knew that better than Aristide but DNA was unarguable fact.
And this time, he knew, he knew for certain that he could not entertain for even a second the suspicion that those two babies would not be of his blood.
He didn’t care what sex the twins were, only that they were Romanos children.
‘My relatives will be shaken by this development and I will warn them in advance of our arrival.’
‘Shaken?’ Tabby queried that choice of word, smothering a yawn at the exhaustion already creeping up on her again. These nights she always ended up in bed much earlier than had once been her habit.
‘A long time ago, I swore that I would stay single and have no children,’ Aristide admitted after a pause for thought, finally deeming it acceptable to tell her that much, even if he had no plans to tell her the rest of that sordid little story.
Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘Why on earth would you make such a far-reaching statement at what must’ve been such a young age?’
Aristide shrugged a broad shoulder. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you some day. I’m not someone who looks back with regret. I prefer to look forward and I was still a student when I first reached that decision. Now let me see you safely home.’
And he did and she crawled into bed. She thought about his admission that he had once decided to remain unmarried and childless.
She frowned, wondering at the past unhappy relationship that must surely have dredged such a declaration from a young man.
He had got hurt once, badly hurt, she suspected with a pang of belated sympathy.
For the first time Tabby was feeling a little less alone.
Her mother was excited and simultaneously worried about her elder daughter’s pregnancy.
Naturally the older woman was more preoccupied with her treatment plan.
In addition, phone conversations were no replacement for talking face to face, Tabby conceded.
Violet’s main focus in life was Tore and Belle, her own little family.
But Aristide was different. He was focused solely on her.
He was trying, she could see that, and he deserved that she made an equal effort.
So, she resolved, no more sniping, no more eying him up like a steak dinner, either.
But she still slid into sleep fondly remembering Aristide’s smile at the prospect of a son and daughter or any combination of children and marvelled at his enthusiasm.
She was lucky, she told herself. Unlike her own father, Aristide truly wanted children.
In comparison, Sam Blessington had felt trapped and diminished by fatherhood and domesticity.
The following few days were exceptionally busy. Interviews, which Violet joined, took place and a female replacement was chosen and deemed suitable to start working immediately by Tabby’s side.
At the start of the next week, Aristide sent his car to waft her to his apartment again to look at the engagement ring.
Tabby couldn’t understand why she should even see it in advance as a ring would only be an accessory that she would naturally return to him when the fake engagement concluded.
Aristide pointed out that she was the party who would have to wear it and her text protests died down.
You argue about every little thing
Thinking that he was getting his own way enough that she could expect him to understand her reservations, Tabby arrived at his apartment, flushed and annoyed.
Straight away she was ushered into the lounge where a jeweller and a security guard were hovering in readiness.
A small box was set and clicked open for her perusal.
It contained a dazzling blue ring in an unusual setting, an oval in a stunning diamond surround. It was breathtaking.
‘Try it on for size,’ the jeweller remarked with enthusiasm as he removed it from the box, gave it an unnecessary polish and extended it to her. ‘A sapphire from Kashmir, rare and much appreciated by all who know their gems.’
Aristide watched the ring he had selected for her glide onto her slender finger in a perfect fit. ‘It’s the same cornflower blue as your eyes,’ he told her.
‘It’s different and very elegant,’ Tabby said, a little breathless as the sunlight accentuated the colourful depth of the precious gem and it shone, holding out her hand, daring to smile for the first time at him.
A slashing smile of appreciation illuminated his lean dark face, emphasising his stunningly handsome features.
The level brows, high cheekbones, cut jaw line and brilliant charismatic dark golden eyes.
And for a split second, time froze for Tabby while she stared back at him, involuntarily fascinated by all that set Aristide apart from other men.
‘The stylist is waiting for you in my guest room,’ he informed her in an aside.
Conscious of their audience, Tabby assumed that he wanted to deal with the business of buying the ring with her elsewhere and she said nothing about the sudden reference to a stylist, who presumably styled, whatever that entailed.
Bare minutes later, Tabby was surrounded by rails of clothes and the extrovert stylist was dragging out and holding clothes up for her scrutiny while her assistant proffered accessories and other combinations of garments, both women chattering volubly at the same time.
All the garments were acceptable in cut to act as early maternity wear, she was assured.
‘You can’t buy me clothes,’ she declared acidly to Aristide in the aftermath. ‘I was ambushed.’
‘That was the plan. Like the ring, they’re mere props,’ Aristide proclaimed dismissively. ‘To act like my fiancée, you have to look as though you belong in my life…and unless you’re happy to play Cinderella for your audience, you can’t do that in unadorned cotton.’