The Helen Bianchin Collection. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
another brightly coloured designer bag to the few Miguel indulgently carried in each hand.
There were gifts to select for Renee, Carlo and Esteban, as well as something for Cindy and Elaine.
In one shop she caught sight of the most exquisite little dress for a baby girl, and bought it with Elise in mind.
‘Are you done?’ Miguel queried musingly as she emerged from yet another boutique.
‘Not quite.’ She had something very special in mind. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll take those packages back to the hotel and give me an hour to shop alone?’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Okay,’ Hannah said with resignation. ‘But there are conditions.’
His eyes gleamed and his mouth moved to form a generous smile. ‘And what would those be, querida?’
She sent him a sparkling glance as she lifted a hand and began ticking off each finger in turn. ‘You won’t question which shop I enter. You’ll remain outside and won’t look through the window. And under no circumstances will you come inside.’
He tilted his head slightly and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Bar there being a robbery, or some strange man attempts to chat you up.’
‘Hmm,’ she conceded, sending him an impish grin. ‘That sounds fair.’
She looked no more than sixteen, Miguel ruminated musingly. Her hair was caught together at her nape, sunglasses rested atop her head, her make-up was minimal, her skin glowed a soft honey gold, and, attired in casual linen shorts and a singlet top, she didn’t resemble anyone’s wife.
Except she was his. The light of his life, his reason for living. It was something he gave grateful thanks to the good Dios for every day. He hadn’t thought it possible to give up your life for another human being. But he’d give up his, for her, in a nanosecond.
Hannah paused outside an exclusive jewellery store, and turned towards him, her expression serious.
‘Remember, you promised?’
‘Go, amante.’
She did, earning circumspect interest from two male staff until she explained what she wanted, indicated a price range, and had their interest immediately switch to respect.
It took a while to make her selection. It took even longer to persuade them to have one of their crafts-man engrave an inscription. A huge tip helped.
She had it placed in a beautiful velvet-lined box, gift-wrapped, charged to her own personal credit card, and she emerged through the glass doors with a satisfied smile.
It was their last evening in this beautiful paradise, and they’d dined at an exclusive restaurant in Honolulu’s ‘Pink Palace’. The food was delicious, the champagne superb, and the view out over the darkened ocean provided a peaceful backdrop.
Together they lingered, each reluctant to bring the evening to a close. For soon they’d have to return to their suite, call the porter to take their bags down to Reception, from where a cab would deliver them to the airport in order to catch the midnight flight home.
The waiter served coffee, and while Miguel signed the credit slip Hannah retrieved the gift-wrapped case from her bag and placed it on the table.
‘For you,’ she said gently as the waiter disappeared, and Miguel regarded her carefully for several seconds before reaching for the package.
He undid the gold ribbon, broke the seal, removed the wrapping, and opened the case.
Inside nestled in a bed of velvet lay a beautiful gold fob-watch with an attached chain.
‘Hannah—’
‘There’s an inscription. Read it,’ she encouraged, watching as he removed the watch and turned it over to read what had been engraved on the back.
Miguel, my heart, my soul. Hannah.
‘Dios,’ he breathed, momentarily speechless.
‘There’s a place inside for a photo,’ she relayed softly. One that would change from year to year as they added to their family.
‘Gracias, amada.’ He rose to his feet and crossed round to kiss her.
Very thoroughly, Hannah mused long seconds later.
Together they left the table and made their way back to their suite.
A long flight lay ahead, and there was little time to spare.
‘One lifetime won’t be enough,’ Miguel said gently as he drew her into his arms.
‘Not nearly enough,’ Hannah whispered an instant before she pulled his head down to hers.
The insistent peal of the telephone caused them to reluctantly draw apart, and Miguel picked up the handset, listened, then added a brief few words.
‘The porter is on his way up, and the cab is waiting downstairs,’ he relayed with something akin to regret, and her mouth curved into a warm smile.
‘We’ll be home tomorrow.’
His answering smile held a certain musing wryness.
‘That’s no help at all.’
A soft laugh emerged from her lips. ‘Patience, querido, is good for the soul.’
He bent his head and kissed her with such gentle evocativeness, she wanted to cry. ‘I’ll remind you of that, later.’
They had the rest of their lives, and together they would make each day count. For ever.
ALEXINA KATHLYN SANTANAS was born eleven months, three weeks and four days later. A joy to her mother, and cherished with idolatry awe by her father.
Family and close friends attended the christening and returned to Miguel and Hannah’s Toorak home to offer congratulations and toast the blonde-haired angel’s health and future happiness.
The sun shone brightly that day, and there was much laughter as everyone celebrated the event.
The guests departed early evening, and it was almost nine when Hannah retreated to the nursery to feed her daughter.
It had been a magical day, Hannah reflected as she changed Alexina and prepared to put her to the breast. She was a placid child, except at moments when she required sustenance or needed changing. Now, she was hungry, and her tiny fists beat an agitated dance before she latched on to suckle strongly.
Hannah looked at the perfect tiny features, the fine textured skin, and felt her heart swell with maternal pride. She really was the sweetest little thing. A precious gift.
What a difference a year made, she decided dreamily. Together she and Miguel had travelled to Rome, toured Italy and spent time in Andalusia. Cindy now ran the Toorak boutique with Elaine’s help.
Life, she decided, was very sweet.
‘How is she?’
Hannah had been so rapt in her own thoughts she hadn’t noticed Miguel had quietly entered the room. She lifted her head and gave him the sort of smile that took hold of his heart and made it beat a whole lot faster.
Did she know how much he loved her? Couldn’t fail to, he mused silently as he crossed to her side and stood watching while she disengaged their daughter and handed her to him to burp.
Minutes later he laid Alexina down carefully in her cot, drew the covers, then enfolded Hannah close to his side as they stood watching their daughter sleep.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Miguel said softly. ‘Just like her mother.’ He turned as Hannah leant her head against his chest, and brushed his lips to her forehead.