A black-haired squirming bundle of lively toddler tucked under each muscular arm, Bastian lowered his twin sons to the ground and doled out cold drinks from the cool box.
Bastian strode across the sand to lift his daughter out of Saffy’s arms and hold her high above him. The baby chuckled like mad, arms and plump little legs waving in frantic excitement. She was a cheerful baby with a wonderfully infectious laugh while her brothers were live-wire kids, who kept both parents on their toes.
Sometimes, Emmie could barely believe that years had passed since their quiet wedding on the island, which had only been attended by family. They had held a terrific party afterwards and just six weeks later their twin boys had been born early. One of their devoted nannies retrieved Appollonia from her father and Bastian crossed the sand to close an arm round Emmie’s slim shoulders.
‘Happy anniversary, pethi mou,’ he husked, brushing his sensual mouth gently across her temples.
In the sunlight, Emmie touched the perfectly matched pearls that gleamed at her throat with appreciative fingertips, Bastian’s gift to mark the occasion. As a wedding present he had given her an outrageously extravagant sapphire necklace, confiding that the first time he had watched her walking down the stairs in his island home he had pictured her sporting sapphires that matched her eyes. Her husband’s generosity had ensured that her jewellery collection and her wardrobe were pretty special. Never again would Emmie be able to use the excuse that she had nothing suitable to wear, for she owned a wonderful selection of clothes. Indeed anything she wanted, Bastian ensured she received and Emmie loved being spoilt and valued for the first time in her life.
‘Happy anniversary, my love,’ Emmie whispered, gazing up at her darkly handsome husband with smiling warmth and love. ‘Has marriage lived up to your expectations?’
Bastian tugged her close to his big sun-warmed body. ‘Life with you has exceeded my every expectation.’
‘I know you never dreamt until I came along that you might enjoy three rug rats round your feet,’ Emmie teased fondly, watching approvingly as she saw Zahir pull Saffy close with the quiet assurance of a firmly bonded couple. Emmie had never dreamt that falling in love could give her so much happiness.
‘The more the merrier,’ Bastian quipped, stunning dark golden eyes welded with sensual intent to her blushing face. ‘We could head back into the house to check the catering arrangements.’
Her lovely face heated even more in the sunlight, hunger stirring as she looked up at him, a hunger laced with an excitement that had yet to fade. ‘Whatever you like,’ she told him breathily.
‘Oh, I like...I like you very much,’ Bastian growled raggedly, his arm tightening round her as he walked her back off the beach.
Her husband’s desire for her never failed to make Emmie feel like the most exciting woman alive and she no longer remembered what it felt like to feel second best. She smiled, full of love and lust, happy and relaxed and grateful for the security and continuity of her tight-knit family circle.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Prince of Secrets by Lucy Monroe
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Presents title.
You want alpha males, decadent glamour and jet-set lifestyles. Step into the sensational, sophisticated world of Harlequin Presents, where sinfully tempting heroes ignite a fierce and wickedly irresistible passion!
Enjoy eight new stories from Harlequin Presents every month!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
CHAPTER ONE
DEMYAN SLID THE black-rimmed nonprescription glasses on before pushing open the door to the lab building. The glasses had been his uncle’s idea, along with the gray Armani cardigan Demyan wore over his untucked dress shirt—no tie. The jeans he wore to complete the “geeky corporate guy” attire were his own idea and surprisingly comfortable.
He’d never owned a pair. He’d had the need to set the right example for his younger cousin, Crown Prince to Volyarus, drummed into Demyan from his earliest memory.
He’d done his best, but they were two very different men.
Maksim was a corporate shark, but he was also an adept politician. Demyan left politics to the diplomats.
For now, though, he would tone down his fierce personality with clothes and a demeanor that would not send his prey running.