The Billionaire’s Desires Vol.12-13 (10 page)

When she says "I do" several minutes later, in front of the teary gaze of all the people who matter most to me, to us – my joy is unreal. She transcends me. My heart swells with a love and pride I never thought possible. I place my hands on her elegant waist and my mouth against her trembling lips as my heart shines a thousand miles in every direction. I am a different man. I am her man.

Amandine Diamonds.

No tears, Gabriel, pull yourself together!

A year later.

Lunch for four. Camille, Marion, Céleste, and me. With laughter, confessions, and gift-giving all on the menu. If you would have told me three years ago that we'd be doing this, I never would have believed it! Once upon a time, putting Camille and Marion in the same room was a recipe for disaster – and cat fighting the dish of the day. As for Céleste, I would have paid to get even the slightest reaction. Her conversation was limited to monosyllabic answers, contemptuous looks, and killer putdowns. That's how this lunch would have gone down three years earlier.

Today, everything has changed. I'm living the dream with my billionaire husband and his son. Our trio couldn't be happier, although I can't wait for our family to grow. Camille, Silas and Oscar have come back to live in France, moving into a sprawling villa in the hills over Saint-Tropez. My brother-in-law has found a new craze: race horses. He's thrown himself into rearing purebreds, to the amusement of his wife, who has nicknamed him Farm Boy.

Although I know that inwardly she finds him irresistibly sexy since he's found a more physical way to earn a living...

And can't help herself from letting on about all their sexual exploits...

If only she would put a sock in it every now and then...

Céleste has recently moved to Paris. Not to be closer to us – well, she'd never admit it even if this were true! – but to be with her partner, Dana, who has opened a boutique in the capital. My sister-in-law has now accepted who she is and who she loves, and is happier than ever. Plus a new complicity has finally grown between us. A sincere friendship, even.

As for Marion, she’s totally devoted to being a mom. Victoire is growing up before our eyes, so fast in fact that whenever I see her – a couple of weekends a month – it's like getting to know a different person. I'd happily snatch the cute little thing away from her mother, but Mommy Aubrac would skin me alive to get her back. "She-wolf" doesn't even come close. "Serial Mum," maybe! But something has changed in Marion, and all for the best, I'm delighted to admit.

"Fiancée? You're kidding?!" I say, checking out the sparkling stone on her ring finger.

"You can't have known Antoine for more than three months!" echoes my sister, almost choking on a rocket leaf.

"So what! When you know, you know," smiles my best friend.

"Waiter, the dessert menu please!" joins in Céleste, cottoning on to the gravity of the situation. Marion starts from the beginning; I must have missed an episode.

"Okay..." she begins, rubbing her hands together. "Antoine. He's twenty-nine, a widower, and has a little boy called Victor. I met him one morning when I was dropping Victoire off at crèche and..."

"Victoire and Victor... It's meant to be!" interrupts Camille, exaggeratedly batting her eyelids.

"Yes, yes, mock me all you want, Little Miss Lucky!" retorts Marion, poking her tongue at my sister. "So, as I was saying… oh yeah, he's totally sweet, gentle, romantic, patient and..."

"Which we all know you have to be to put up with Marion!" I say, playfully pinching her cheek.

"Yeah, you're not wrong. But not just that. He totally understands, you know, about how difficult it's been since Tristan..." she murmurs, saddened by the memory. "He went through the same thing when his wife died three years ago."

"I like this Antoine already," whispers Céleste.

"A round of strawberry cheesecake!" yelps Camille.

"No, chocolate lava cakes!" I say brandishing my spoon in the air like a magic wand with the power to get what I want.

"You girls are crazy!" giggles my best friend. "With you, life is never... dull."

Eight plates of dessert later, Camille and I instinctively place our hands on our bellies, which are "rounder" to say the least.

"I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you," smiles Céleste, watching our identical gestures. "Two pairs of twins..."

"As Virgile predicted," adds Marion.

"Four nephews and nieces! Four! An invasion of kids, that's all we need!"

Céleste is too proud to show it, but I know she’s just as excited by the news. Her face feign indifference, but her shining eyes speak differently.

"You'll see. It won’t take you long to fall in love with your cute nephews and nieces ..." purrs Camille.

"Yeah, if you say so. I'll only tolerate them because they're family," teases my sister-in-law. "But don't count on me to spoil them..."

"Says the biggest softy in the world when it comes to a pair of Maltese pups!"

We all get the giggles, then the conversation returns to the four little feet kicking in my belly.

"So are you finally going to tell us the sex of your little monsters?" grumbles Camille. "I told you about mine ages ago! I already have one guy and I'm going to end up with three in a matter of months. Throw in my big kid of a husband… and you’re going to have to pray for me!"

"Gabriel and I don't want to know. I can't wait to find out when I get to meet them."

"Girl, you're going to know what it means to give birth when two pop out!" laughs Marion. "And believe me, you won't be sighing with joy like you just did then!"

"Who's giving birth first?" asks Céleste, grimacing.

"Me, in six weeks. Camille in seven," I confirm, smiling. "And don't think any of your tactics to sap our morale will work!"

"Don't worry, the three months of sleepless nights will bring you back to earth," insists Marion, tapping me on the shoulder.

"You just need to say the magic word," says my sister excitedly. "Na-nny."

"Yes, well, sometimes I forget that you two are married to Mr. Millions and Mr. Billions," she scowls teasingly.

Don’t worry, I never forget for a second that I'm married to the one and only man of my wildest dreams.

And who makes them wilder and wilder with each passing day...

"Speaking of which, Amandine... any idea where our Diamonds are plotting?" asks my sister, wincing as she eases herself up from her seat.

"No, why?"

"I don't know, I think Silas put his foot in it this morning. I thought I understood the four of us were going to be spending the weekend all together..."

"Maybe they're trying to find a way of apologizing for having turned us into... this," I remark, pointing at our prominent tummies, which are practically touching.

"Yes, they've got a lot to answer for," she smiles, automatically caressing her little ones through her stomach.

***

She was right. Gabriel and Silas had been hatching a plan. This Saturday, they got us out of bed – at around midday – to take us to a secret destination. I found Camille in the back of the four-by-four when I awkwardly clambered onto my seat carrying my seven-month-old unborn children. The two future dads were fully aware that, this close to full term, the journey couldn't last much longer than few hours. So the destination of our country retreat could really only be one place: Normandy!

"Our home for the next three nights: Gidor Manor!" announces an overexcited Silas, jumping out of the SUV.

"We should have brought Oscar," says my sister, swinging her legs out of the vehicle to the floor. "He'd love it here."

"Camille, he's with his father, you didn't have any choice..." I say distractedly as I check out the surroundings.

The ashlar manor is breathtaking; not only is the place enormous, but the architecture is stunning. I stand wide-eyed in the center of the courtyard where I have the perfect vantage point to admire the masterpiece in all its glory. Standing next to these imposing buildings always makes me feel minuscule by comparison, but I love that sensation. A kind of delusion of grandeur in reverse. I don't think I'll ever tire of it.

"I hope there's a maternity unit in the area, should the need arise," grumbles Camille, massaging her swollen belly.

"I can do better than that: we have a medical team on site round the clock," explains my billionaire husband, popping the trunk and smiling at me as he does.

Gabriel has always been a thoughtful and protective soul, but this facet of his personality has magnified tenfold since I fell pregnant. Just knowing my sister and I have our own guardian angel in Gabriel gives me instant peace of mind.

I enter our bedroom and squeal with delight as I gently collapse onto the bed. My legs are achy, but aside from that I feel relatively healthy. Until now, my pregnancy has gone by pretty smoothly, but little by little I feel the fatigue starting to gain the upper hand. I'm expecting twins so the side effects will probably be twice as bad!

I learned I was carrying twins about seven months ago when I was admitted to the emergency unit after a dizzy spell. I just assumed it was a drop in my blood pressure, but I was sent home with thirty brochures on all the potential health issues connected to multiple births. And I got scared. But seeing Gabriel's face light up with infinite joy was profoundly reassuring. My Diamonds has waited on me hand and foot from day one and showered me with attention, gifts and tenderness. And our relationship has only grown stronger for it. Especially these last few months, when our sex life has become... well, let's just call it "active." I'm one of those pregnant women whose hormones go into overdrive. And my libido with it.

And my bump isn't really a problem if you simply show a little imagination...

My ever-mysterious husband comes and lies down beside me, enveloping me in his strong arms. He is only wearing linen pants and a navy blue polo shirt, but he has already stirred my appetite.

"Gabriel?"

"Hmm?"

"Gabriel..." I utter with a slightly deeper voice as I turn to face him.

"Sweet Amande, you're trying to kill me..." he smiles as a twinkle of arousal shines in his eyes.

His gaze intensifies and his eyes darken. He's gripped with desire while waves of ecstasy ripple along my spine. He kisses me, taking his time, as his hands are already roaming under my light summer dress...

We're late and red in the cheeks – not to mention elsewhere – when we finally make it down to dinner in the grand dining room. Camille and Silas are already at the table, chatting with the butler.

"What, down already?!" exclaims my sister, spying my blushed face and misty eyes. "How on earth do you manage to find a comfortable position? My belly is the best form of birth control I've ever had!"

"Camille, can we talk about something else?" I say quietly, absolutely mortified at having such an intimate conversation right here.

The butler swiftly takes our orders before disappearing in a stiff gait down the hall.

"I hired us a Michelin-starred chef," explains Silas as he moves his hand down to rest on his wife's bump. "Our kids are going to be gourmets from the moment they pop out..."

"Of course they are," laughs Camille, rolling her eyes. "A drizzle of white truffle oil in your mashed potatoes, Number One? Oh, I think Number Two is crying for a Happy Meal!"

My gaze crosses Gabriel's and I can't help but beam at him. I have no idea what our Number One and Number Two will look like, but I'm counting down the days until I get to find out... while holding my breath. Caught between feeling impatient to meet my twins and petrified at the thought of giving birth, I still haven't decided which way to – with difficulty – jump!

"You got everything ready? The clinic, the nursery, the nannies?" asks Silas, taking a sip of white wine.

"Of course, everything is ready, you do remember who I live with right?" I say, pointing my finger at my husband. "Mr. Control Freak over there!"

"And how's Virgile taking it?"

"He's crazy excited! He keeps calling the twins Bob and Bobby," laughs Gabriel. "Actually I think our new arrivals are reassuring to him. He says that we'll make one big happy family. Big being the operative word!"

"He knows he's family to me, with or without the babies," I add.

"Yes, you're amazing with him," murmurs my husband, caressing my cheek.

For one inevitable moment, the ghost of Eleanor floats over our heads. But unlike before, now we're able to chase her away effortlessly. Well, Silas does, at least.

"You've marched in and succeeded in taming a fifteen-year-old intractable teen! The Teen Whisperer... Respect, Baumann," he jokes.

The appetizers arrive: fragrant salads, brightly-colored chilled soups, and a selection of other elegant dishes.

"Does your hubby do anything strange?" whispers Camille. "Mine tries every night to communicate with the babies in Morse code. By tapping on my belly."

"Mine sings them lullabies. And you know how off-key his voice is..."

"Oh my god, we're going to be releasing mini-Diamonds into the world," she says suddenly, as if the thought has only just struck her.

"Ten days apart from each other! If we told this story to anyone, they'd take us for a pair of crazy women. But well, it's not exactly like it was plain sailing from the start."

"I hear you, we've come a long way... a very long way."

"Toast with me," I say, raising my glass to my sister. "To today. To now. To us four."

"To us eight," corrects Gabriel fondly.

We all look at each other, Camille, Silas, Gabriel and I, sat around the table which seems overly sumptuous for our modest group. Our faces break into brilliant smiles when, all of a sudden, Gabriel leaps up, tugs on the table cloth in one clean, precise gesture, and removes it without knocking over a thing. A true magician. He gives me a ravaging wink – which sets my heart beating like a teenybopper's – and gestures for me to follow him outside.

As he strides out with a spring in his step, he calls out to the butler: