Defne touched the blue tourmalines and looked at her husband with huge, amber eyes.
- Omer, - she asked with doubt - and I won't look too ... pretentious?
"You will look great," he said confidently. - The queen of her kingdom.
Taking out the diadem from the case, he put it on her red hair and turned Defne to the mirror.
- Look at yourself. You're beautiful. Beautiful woman with a beautiful heart. Talented and generous. Passed through the trials and did not break. You, like no other, are worthy of the crown.
Defne looked in the mirror but saw only Omer there. Looking into the eyes of his reflection, she asked:
- Why did you choose blue tourmalines?
- Because they have impeccable purity. Like water ... like you.
He hugged her and folded his arms over her belly. Defne covered them with hers and confessed:
- I'm afraid...
- What? - Omer touched his lips to her bare shoulder.
Defne looked away and lowered her eyes. Long eyelashes in dark red semicircles lay on her cheeks. She sighed and replied:
- I'm afraid that I will do or say something wrong and put you in an awkward position. After all, no one taught me how to be a lady. How to behave in high society.
Omer turned her around and, taking her by the chin, raised her sweet face. Bowing his head, he looked into her eyes and ordered:
- Forget this nonsense! And don't try to play the role of the grand lady again. You are special, not like anyone else, but at the same time refined and well-mannered. Be yourself, and don't be afraid of anything. Remember that I am proud of you and love you very much. "Taking the cloak lying on the bed, he threw it over her shoulders and gently pushed her towards the door. - And now - go ahead! Step to triumph and take over all these snobs with your sincerity!
The Mercedes stopped at an art gallery. Its large hall today received guests of a new jewelry company, the name of which has been heard throughout Istanbul for the second week. Omer got out of the car and held out his hand to Defne. As soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk, the flashes of dozens of cameras blinded her eyes, and microphones appeared in her face.
- Mr. Omer, Mrs. Defne, are you opening a new company?
- Is it true that the design of the jewelry belongs entirely to you, Mrs. Defne?
- Mr. Omer, is it true that you guided your wife to another area of design to remove her from the competition in the shoe sector?
Questions poured in from all sides, but Omer silenced the journalists with one glance and said:
- Gentlemen, you will be escorted to the lobby, where a small press conference will be held in an hour. There, Defne and I and our partners will answer your questions. Now, please let us through.
The microphones lowered, and the crowd parted, allowing the dazzlingly beautiful couple to pass.
Omer took Defne's arm and led her inside the building. Before they had time to take a dozen steps, another crowd surrounded them. Grandfather Hulusi, grandmother Turkan, Serdar with Nihan, Esra, and Iso surrounded Iplikci and, expressing their joy, began to warmly congratulate their clever Defne and her husband.
- If anyone had told me five years ago that our hooligan would become a lady and put on a crown - I would not believe in life! - said Serdar enthusiastically and gently touched the diadem with his forefinger.
- Oo-oo-oo, - his grandmother looked at him. - He would not have believed it! My daughter was born a princess!
- Good princess! - Serdar was indignant. - She fought with the boys on an equal footing.
- Shhhhhh! Nihan hissed at him. - You found where to talk about it.
Hearing their skirmish, Defne only smiled. And she agreed with the idea that life is unpredictable. Yesterday's daredevil today can wear a crown and feel as if she was born in it.
"Sister, you are very beautiful," said Esra.
- You too, - Defne kissed her smart forehead and whispered in her ear. - This dress suits you very much. I was not mistaken that I bought it in Milan. Who did you leave baby Iso with? - She asked her brother and sister-in-law.
"With my mother," Nihan replied. - I feel that he will give her a hard time. Therefore, we will not stay long. We'll stay for an hour and disappear.
- Then do not waste time, - Defne winked. - Go to the hall and take a good look at everything.
Topal family went inside. Iso, whispering to Defne that he would come up later to congratulate her, went after them. Omer took the cloak from his wife and carried it to the dressing room. Defne stayed with grandfather Hulusi. She kissed his hand and smiled warmly and sincerely.
- I'm glad to see you.
"And I'm glad, daughter," he replied. - Today is your day. I would never miss it.
"You have done so much for me."
"You did much more," the grandfather looked at his grandson, who was walking towards them with an easy gait of a confident man. - You gave Omer happiness. I can never fully thank you for this.
"Omer gave me much more happiness," Defne smiled and touched her belly weightlessly. - He gave me a life that I could not even dream of.
The confidently walking man, as if hearing what was being said about him, smiled broadly at his wife and grandfather. Coming closer, he put his hand on Defne's waist and said:
- Darling, it's time for us to go to the hall. Grandpa, - he turned to the old man, - you come too. I asked to put chairs for you and Mrs. Turkan. Come in and sit down. Don't let your legs get tired.
- Thank you, son, - replied the grandfather and his eyes moistened.
Omer, holding Defne by the waist, led her through the arched doorway into the hall and the first thing he saw were huge, amber eyes that looked at him from the photograph on the wall. Fire opals gathered in an intricate necklace emphasized their pure depth. They shone on the snow-white skin, set it off, and echoed in color with the copper-red strands of hair. Holding his breath, Omer approached the photo and stopped, unable to take his eyes off it.
-Do you like it? - Defne asked quietly behind him.
"Very..." he breathed. - You're beautiful.
"I'm asking about the necklace," she clarified and nodded at the podium stand. On it, under glass, on a pillow of black velvet, there were fire opals of unthinkable beauty.
- A-ah! - Omer was not at all embarrassed. - The necklace. - He looked at the jewelry, then again at the photo and said: - I'll have to buy it.
- What for? - Defne was surprised.
- Because I can't imagine that someone else will wear it, not you.
Once again, her poor heart changed its rhythm. It froze and then started beating often. She wondered if she can ever, calmly relate to the manifestation of his love.
"No," an inner voice answered. - But others do not need to know about it. So, stop spreading like a puddle, but rather pull yourself together and stand calm. "
- Oh! - Defne, shaking off the obsession, comically arched an eyebrow and looked away. - It seems that Koray's idea was unsuccessful. Darling, there are at least ten of my photos here. And on them, I am wearing jewelry. If you decide to buy everything, we, Passionis, and Sapphire will go broke.
"I promise I'll only buy this," Omer winked at her. - But I want to see everything.
Burak and Farah Sarafoglu sat side by side in the back seat of a limousine that was plodding along the evening streets of Istanbul. The man held the palm of his wife in his hand. His chest was bursting with delight. He had been waiting for this day for four months and now it seemed to him that he would go crazy with joy. And only one thought did not give rest. Farah does not know that the necklace is a copy, and the real one is irretrievably lost. Burak understood perfectly well that it was impossible to keep silent about it. The sooner he tells, the more problems they can avoid in the future. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her thin fingers and spoke:
- Darling, look at me, - Farah pulled back a little and raised her face to him.
- I need to tell you something, - he breathed in the air with all his chest and told everything without concealment. He concluded the story with the words:
- This necklace is a brilliantly made copy. But it is not the relic that has been passed down in your family from generation to generation.
"But," Farah said in confusion, "what about the fastener? After all, she is the same! It was a defect on the lost necklace. A jeweler's mistake. How could another master do the same?
- I have no idea, - answered Burak. "I didn't know anything about her. But perhaps those who recreated the necklace will shed light on this mystery.
The Sarafoglu spouses were lucky. The first person they met at the reception was Ahtem. After shaking his hand and introducing him to his wife, Burak once again thanked him for the job well done and asked about the fastener.
"Don't get it wrong," he hastened to assure. - Your mistake in making it became the happy impetus that returned my wife's memory. And I am infinitely grateful to you for it.
"But it was not a mistake," Ahtem smiled in response. - I did exactly what Defne depicted in the sketches. Ask her about the rest. Sorry, I have to leave you. My bride is waiting for me.
He bowed and disappeared into the crowd. The couple exchanged intrigued glances and silently went in search of the designer, whom Farah mentally called a sorceress.
Omer and Defne stood at the window and watched what was happening. The hall was filled with guests. They wandered between the jewel racks. They looked at them, and at the same time the photographs on the walls, and talked quietly. They approached Defne and expressed their admiration for her talent and impeccable taste. She smiled back and thanked her for the honor.
At one point, her eyes recognized a face from the crowd. Burak Sarafoglu walked straight to her. A beautiful, black-haired woman with green, almond-shaped eyes held his arm. Around her neck was a red-gold necklace. She also smiled calmly and confidently, like a woman who knows who she is and what she deserves.
- Mrs. Defne, Mr. Omer, good evening! - greeted Sarafoglu. Always calm, his face was radiant with happiness today. "Let me introduce you to my wife Farah. Darling, meet Mrs. Defne Iplikci and her husband Omer Iplikci. Defne is this talented designer who has managed to return what we have lost.
- I am very glad to meet you, - Farah bowed her head and touched the necklace on her chest. "Mistress Defne, I am fascinated by your talent. I confess that I have always been indifferent to jewelry. I appreciated in them not carats and ounces, but what they were a symbol of - love, care, family values. But what I see here today in this art gallery ... is more than jewelry. A soul is visible in each of the decorations. Your soul. And it is beautiful.
- Thank you, - Defne smiled sweetly at the woman and turned to her husband: - It still happened? A miracle happened and the amnesia receded?
"Yes," Burak replied and looked at his wife with loving eyes. - Due to a defect in the clasp on the necklace. While fastening, I pricked Farah's neck, and she remembered how the same thing happened every time her father put the necklace around her mother's neck.
- I ..., - Defne looked at Omer. He smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly. - We are very happy for you. Let all your troubles be left behind.
- Thank you, - Burak said. - But tell me, how did it happen that you drew the clasp with a defect? After all, even I did not know about him.
- I saw in the photo that the tongue of the clasp is turned in the wrong direction. Having enlarged, I carefully examined and realized that it was. But I doubted if I was doing the right thing. I consulted with Omer and Ahtem. They approved my decision. This is how a clasp with an old defect appeared on the new necklace.
"May Allah reward you a hundredfold for your wisdom and kind heart," Farah touched her hand.
"If you ever need help," Burak said after his wife, "just call. I am indebted to you.
- Ay! No debt! - Defne jokingly exclaimed. - I don't like this word. Let's just be glad that all the bad things are behind us and Mrs. Farah has regained her life.
- You, as always, are absolutely right, - Omer supported her and nodded to the middle of the hall. There, around a stand covered with a white cloth and tied with a red ribbon, were already everyone who created Sapphire - Sinan, Seda, Deniz Tranba, Ahtem, and Laura. - They are waiting for us. Mister Burak, Mrs. Farah, we are not saying goodbye. A beautiful evening is ahead and we will find time to talk.
Leaving the Sarafoglu couple, Iplikci approached their friends. Omer took the microphone in his hands and spoke:
- Gentlemen, we are glad to welcome you to the birthday of our brainchild - the Sapphire jewelry company. Its appearance became possible thanks to the talent and skill of two wonderful people - Ahtem Minibayev and Defne Iplikci. They have a unique gift - the ability to breathe life into stones and metal, creating not just jewelry, but a magic that can change human lives for the better. Under this fabric, - Omer pointed to the stand, - the symbol of the newborn company is hidden. Defne, - he turned to his wife, - you are the soul of Sapphire, and you should open it.
Mirai approached Defne. She was holding a silver platter in her hands. There were scissors on it. Defne took them in her hands and, restraining her excitement, cut the red ribbon. Deniz Tranba pulled off the white cloth in one movement, and on the stand, in the bright light of the chandeliers, the bird Simurgh flashed into rubies on the spread golden wings. Defne took the microphone from Omer and spoke:
- We chose the Simurgh bird as a symbol of our company. Phoenix bird. It was reborn from the ashes even more beautiful and strong, and we want the jewelry we have created to resurrect the purest and kindest feelings in the souls of people. And the Simurgh bird was also the talisman of a woman who is no longer with us. Fikret Galo, a talented designer, and generous person. She died, but she remained to live in our memory and in every jewel we created.
Defne fell silent. Silence reigned in the hall for several seconds, which erupted into applause.
- Smooth road and happy journey to Sapphire! - Exclaimed Sinan, and the guests supported him with cheers.
Waiters appeared in the hall with trays filled with drinks and snacks, and the reception smoothly passed into an informal stage. Koray, throwing back his head proudly, with a dancing gait defiled between the guests and told everyone who wanted to listen about his genius and that it was he who discovered the potential of the model in Defne.
Ahtem looked at the photographs of Laura with the jewelry he created. His face remained calm, but his eyes burned with fire. When creating jewelry, he saw them in his mind's eye that way. This crazy Passionis photographer is truly a genius. His camera was able to capture the essence - jewelry emphasizes the inner beauty of a woman. Enhances mystery and magnetic attraction. Unleash the charm.
Laura approached him silently. She took his arm and asked:
- Do you admire your creation?
"I admire you," he replied.
Defne said goodbye to her family in the lobby. Nihan guessed right - baby Iso made grandmother Endam uneasy. She called and demanded that the parents immediately return home and take care of the child.
- My baby, - Turkan fussed. - He missed grandma Turkan. Of course, he doesn't know this woman at all. He is frightened, upset.
- He missed my breast, - Nihan cut her off and added boastfully: - I breastfeed my son, and not that like some: oh-oh, there is no milk and switched to a mixture.
- Get dressed already! - Serdar shouted at his wife. - You are only chatting here.
Defne listened to their skirmish and smiled. It's good that her family is just like that - sincere and easy-going.
- Girl! Why are you smiling? - Sarcastically asked Nihan, offended by her husband's words.
"Because I love you," Defne answered. - It's good to have you.
Omer again approached the portrait of Defne with the opal necklace that struck him. He looked at her beloved face, the multicolored play of fiery stones on porcelain skin, deep, amber eyes, and goosebumps ran down his arms from admiration.
"A strikingly beautiful woman."
The deep voice behind him made him flinch and look around. A man stood behind. Perfect posture, wide shoulder turn, and lean figure. The temples were touched by gray hair and impenetrable black eyes. In appearance - forty-five years. Omer vaguely remembered his name - Ozcan Baysal, the owner of a chain of jewelry stores. Once upon a time, they were introduced to each other at one of the events. Omer had heard of him as a decent man, but his look at the photo of Defne did not at all like the man-owner sitting inside.
- My wife, - he sternly enlightened the guest.
"I know," he replied, and an ironic smile touched his lips. - You are lucky, Mr. Omer since you managed to win a woman of such exquisite beauty and talent.
The man spoke quite polite words, but Omer's face darkened more and more. His jaws clenched to an ache and it took a lot of effort for him to answer calmly:
- There has never been a war between Defne and me, Mr. Ozcan. Therefore, "conquest" is not quite the right word.
- What is correct? - All the same ironically asked the man.
"Love," Omer replied.
- A worthy reason for getting married.
- I would say - the only correct one.
Ozcan looked at the necklace.
"You know to be careful with fire opals. They bring misfortune."
"Empty prejudices," Omer replied.
"Who knows, who knows," the man held out and stared into Omer's eyes.
The duel of glances was broken by Defne. She went up to her husband and took his arm. Omer instantly covered her hand with his and asked:
- Have the Topal gone?
"Yes," she replied. - And your grandfather too.
"Mrs. Defne," Baysal intervened in their dialogue. "I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I have a request for you.
- Yes, Mr. Ozcan, - Defne smiled at him.
Omer's eyes sparkled. Does his wife know this insolent man? The impudent himself continued to say:
- I made an appointment with you, but your secretary answered that Ms. Laura Cesare is in charge of the sales of the collection. And yet, I ask you personally to give me a couple of hours of your time. The topic that I want to discuss with you is of great importance to me.
"Okay, Mr. Ozcan," Defne agreed. - But for the next ten days, all my time is scheduled in minutes.
- I'll wait ten days, - the man smiled charmingly. Omer's fists itched to ride over this contented face. But he only squeezed them and cut in on the conversation:
- In ten days we are leaving on vacation and will return only after the New Year.
- Well, - not looking at Omer, said Ozcan, - I will wait for your return.
Omer gritted his teeth. What a stubborn freak! Goes ahead.
- Then, - Defne replied, - let your secretary contact mine and agree on the time and place of the meeting.
- Thank you, Mrs. Defne, - the man bowed to both and said goodbye: - Have a nice evening.
When he left, Defne looked at her husband and asked:
- What's the matter? Has someone ruined your mood?
- Where did you get it? Omer shrugged. Defne frowned in response, and he hurried to reassure her: - Everything is fine, darling. Do not pay attention to.
"Okay," she said, but her voice sounded uncertain. The husband looked at her with the impenetrable gaze of the former "ice waterfall" and this look frightened her.
She took a step to leave, but Omer held her by the wrist.
- Defne, you are my wife! - He stressed the word "mine".
- And I'm very happy to be.
The soft intonation of her voice and the warm light that lit up in her eyes eased the tension a little. Omer exhaled and the grip around the fragile wrist loosened. He ran his thumb over the delicate skin of its inner side and asked:
- Let's go home.
- Home? - Defne asked in surprise. - But what about the press conference?
- Heck! Omer swore. - I forgot about it. - He pulled his wife to him and burned her with a glance. - Okay, let's answer the questions of these vultures and immediately go to our place.
- I agree, - Defne smiled. - We will answer and leave. Let Sinan and Seda deal with the rest.
Omer pressed his forehead to her temple and whispered: - I love you.
When Sapphire's bosses came out into the hall, it was already filled with journalists and cameramen setting up their equipment. The owners of the company took their places under the banner of Sapphire, and Omer, gesturing for the reporters to come closer, said:
- Good evening, gentlemen! We are glad to welcome you to the opening of our jewelry company and will be happy to answer all your questions.
His phrase sounded like a signal for action. Cameras blinked, and the first of the journalists asked:
- Mr. Omer, Mr. Deniz, your firms specialize in the manufacture of shoes. Why did you suddenly decide to create a jewelry company?
Omer looked at his wife, smiled charmingly, and answered first:
- When an original talent appears, which, no matter in what area, creates masterpieces with his imagination, it would be a crime not to let the world see them.
- I can add only one thing, - Tranba supported his words. - When I first saw the sketches of jewelry drawn by Mrs. Defne, I realized that she is a genius and her works must necessarily turn into life.
Defne tried to look calm, but she could not ignore such wonderful words addressed to her. She smiled gratefully at Deniz and then looked at Omer. Adoration shone in her eyes. Camera lenses clicked around, but Defne didn't care. After all, Omer looked at her with pride and endless love.
- Mr. Omer, - ironically grinning such a demonstration of feelings, a reporter of one of the TV programs, which all of Turkey knew as a collection of gossips, began to speak, - I will repeat my question, which I asked earlier, but did not receive an answer. Is it true that you guide your wife to a different area of design to remove her from the competition in the shoe sector?
Omer closed his eyes for a moment, gesturing to Defne not to pay attention to such stupidity and turned to the journalist. On his chest was a badge with his name and the TV channel.
- Mister Cengiz, - the boss of Passionis turned to the self-confident man, - have you seen Sapphire's works?
- Yes, - he answered. - We were allowed to take a photo before the reception.
- Then I am surprised that such an intelligent person like you asked such a question.
Snide chuckles were heard all around. Cengiz has not been liked among journalists and everyone liked the "click on the nose" that Omer awarded him.
- Defne Iplikci is still a freelance designer for Tranba and is preparing a spring collection for us, - Deniz clarified raising his voice and the journalist's ambition was blown away before his eyes. It was noticeable that he was upset with the answers and the fact that the hot news, which could be gossip on live air for a long time was gone. But he, like a jackal, was still trying to gnaw it out and turned to Defne:
- Mrs. Iplikci, how would you answer my question?
- Do you want to hear an honest answer? - Defne looked at him point-blank.
- Оf course, - he answered.
- Well, - Defne smiled cheerfully. - I think, Mr. Cengiz, that you are trying to make a sensation out of nonsense. It makes no sense for my husband to be afraid of competition. He is the best!
Sinan looked around the journalistic fraternity and proclaimed with a sweet smile:
- I think the answers are quite comprehensive. Mr. Cengiz, it's time to give up the right to ask questions to other reporters.
The journalistic people were not distinguished by their delicacy. After Sinan's words, the self-confident Cengiz has been pushed aside, and the questions rained down one after another:
- Why did Mrs. Defne and Ms. Laura decide to shoot for a promotional photo themselves, and did not use professional models?
- How do you rate the first collection of Sapphire?
- Who is the teacher who taught Mrs. Defne design?
- Where will jewelry from Defne Iplikci and Ahtem Minibayev be sold?
Sapphire's co-owners responded to them openly and kindly. Half an hour later, when the stream dried up, the parties said goodbye, quite happy with each other. By that time, the guests had begun to leave. Someone left in silence, someone nodded graciously, and good friends came up to say goodbye and once again express their admiration to Mrs. Iplikci. Ozcan Baysal also came up. Looking Defne in the eyes, he kissed her hand and said:
- Once again - bravo, Mrs. Defne! Your work is excellent. I will look forward to meeting you and your talent again.
"Thank you," Defne replied politely.
She could feel through her skin the fluids of anger that Omer now exuded. But she did not understand their nature at all. Why is he angry with this quite pleasant man? Or maybe in the past, he had a conflict with him?
Baysal nodded restrainedly to Omer and left. The latter, with poorly concealed anger, looked at him and imperiously grabbed Defne's palm with his long fingers.
- We have to go - he reminded and led her to the dressing room.
- Won't we even say goodbye to the others? She wondered.
"I asked Sinan and Seda to accompany the guests. Ahtem and Laura will collect the jewelry and hide them in the safe. There is no need to say goodbye - they will all appear with us tomorrow. Let's celebrate the opening in a small circle, - Omer answered abruptly and took Defne's cloak from the hands of the cloakroom attendant. Throwing the fur-lined velvet over her shoulders, he fastened the clasp at her throat and looked into her dumbfounded face.
- What? - asked.
- Why am I not aware of the party?
"It just happened," he shrugged. - Sinan and Seda asked to visit us, Ahtem and Laura also wanted to come. So we decided to have a party.
- But what about the meal? - Defne asked, perplexed.
- Found a problem! We will order from the Lunch restaurant. - Omer pushed her to the exit. - Let's go already. I'm tired of the crowd.
"You didn't say anything about Iz and Deniz," Defne said as she walked.
- They won't come. Many affairs. Three days before the wedding.
- Exactly, - Defne slapped herself on the forehead. - While preparing for the opening, I completely lost sight of the fact that December, the 20th is this Tuesday.
In the car, he remained silent and gloomy but did not let go of Defne's hand. She cast inquiring glances at him. The stone-faced husband stared ahead of him and tightened his grip on her narrow palm.
In the end, Defne could not resist and asked:
- Did you have any problems with Ozcan Baysal?
"No," Omer answered shortly.
- Then why are you so angry with him?
He didn't answer. He just clenched his teeth and almost crushed the palm in his hand.
Omer stayed in the courtyard to talk to Sukru and give him the last orders. Defne entered the house and went upstairs. She took off the cloak and put it on a chair. She kicked off her shoes. Leaving them on the floor, she took out the diadem from her hair. Putting it on the dressing table, she sat down on the bed and thought. What's with Omer today? He's like the wind. First is warm and caressing, then cold and prickly. Defne did not at all understand the reasons for such a sharp change in mood.
He entered the room barefoot and without the tuxedo. The ends of the untied bow-tie hung from under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Taking out the cufflinks, he threw them on the table near the diadem. With a couple of movements, unbuttoning the buttons, he opened his shirt and pulled it from the waist of his trousers. He clicked the lock, got rid of the belt, and threw it on the floor. His movements were neat and sharp, not a shadow of a smile on his face. He looked away as if he did not notice the presence of his wife. Not understanding anything, Defne got up and walked over to him. Touching his cheek, she looked into his face and asked:
- Omer?
He looked up at her. Fire blazed in his eyes. But not warm, dear, but icy and dark. Moaning, he pulled Defne to him and buried his hands in her hair. His hard mouth fell on her lips. He crushed them, flattened them, wade between them with his tongue, and imperiously subdued them.
"Mine," he croaked, pulling back, and looked Defna in the eyes. - You are mine!
- Omer, what's wrong with you? - She whispered in fright. - What happened? I do not recognize you...
He pressed her head to his chest. One hand squeezed the back of her head, while the other feverishly stroked her narrow back.
- I won't give you to anybody! Never! You are mine!
"I don't understand," Defne raised her head, and Omer again fell to her lips. This time the kiss was excruciatingly gentle. He seemed to be begging. He asked for something, but Defne did not understand what. But she saw one thing clearly - Omer is ruled by fear. And she tried to dispel it in the only possible way - with her hands and lips. Pulling off his shirt, she stroked his shoulders, kissed his sculpted chest, clung to him with her whole body and whispered:
- I love you ... only you...
Omer tugged at the side of the dress. The lock creaked pitifully and fell apart. He made his way under the thin fabric with hot palms and pressed them to the skin as soft as silk.
"I'll die if you leave," he said hoarsely and pressed his face to the hollow between her shoulder and neck.
- Well, what are you talking about? - Affectionately ruffling his hair, Defne spoke. - Why should I leave? I love you ... I am happy ... we have a baby. Why did these wrong thoughts appear in your head?
- The child ... small bead ..., - Omer pulled off the dress from Defne, and it fell to the floor. He dropped to his knees and pressed his face against the barely noticeable bulge of her stomach. - Promise me that you will always be with me.
- Always! - Defne answered without a second of thought. - Even if you drive us away, we will not leave.
Omer exhaled and got up from his knees. Picking up Defne in his arms, he carried her to the bed and laid her in the middle. Straightening up, he looked at her and could not take his eyes off. The dark blue silk of the sheets set off the snow-white skin and made the fiery strands even brighter, and the amber eyes - deep. She looked at him and smiled like an angel. Whatever happens, he will never let her go! She is his. Only his.
The angel held out her hands to him and called:
- Come to me.
When passion turned into languid bliss and both, intertwined with bodies lying on crumpled sheets, unable to move, Defne asked:
- Omer, what was that today?
He shyly looked aside and replied:
- Emotional outburst. Imagined that you could leave me and went crazy.
"I was scared," Defne admitted.
Omer hugged her and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.
- Sorry...
- Promise that you won't let such thoughts wander in your head anymore.
- I promise - he kissed the redhead and ordered: - Let's sleep.
At noon the next day, two cars drove up to Iplikci's house one after the other. Beautifully dressed couples emerged from them. Both shone with radiant smiles, and even an ignorant person would have understood that there were people in love in front of him.
Omer met them on the terrace. Smiling broadly at his friends, he nodded at the door and ordered them to enter the house. Sinan and Seda did so, while Laura and Ahtem were delayed. The girl saw a gray cat lying on a blanket and approached it. Bending down, she smiled and scratched its neck. Much to Omer's surprise, the savage did not hiss at Laura, but narrowed her slanting eyes and allowed the soft, gray fur to be stroked.
"What a beauty," Laura said. - Is it yours?
"No," said Omer. "This is the cat of Fikret," he pointed to the neighboring house and explained: "This is the mansion of the Galo family. Fikret's father died a few months ago. After the death of Fikret, the grandmother put the house up for sale and left for a village for orphans. Instead of Fikret, she teaches children to draw. And Gri, - Omer nodded with a smile at the cat - a girl with character. It did not want to leave the house. It ran away and was not found. And then it comes to us. Defne feeds her and even tried to take her into the house, but...
Laura got up and, opening the door, called:
- Gri, let's go.
Ignoring the dumbfounded gaze of the owner and the laughing guest, the cat stood up, stretching its back arching, and followed Laura into the house.
"Miracles," Omer breathed.
"This is Laura," Ahtem said warmly and turned to the neighboring house. After carefully examining the stone walls, tiled roofs, and large windows, he asked: "Are you saying the house is for sale?
"For sale," said Omer and smiled knowingly.
Fire danced merrily over the oak logs in the fireplace. The winter sun peeped in through the cleanly washed windows and played on the floor with playful bunnies. It smelled of junipers, tangerines, and Christmas cake, which Countess Laura had baked. A gray cat was sleeping in a rocking chair, curled up in a ball. The spirit of celebration was in the air. It lit the eyes with joy, and smiles - with fervor made laughter louder, and conversations - more sincere. Three couples, gathered in the living room, celebrated the birth of a new company, the coming Christmas, which was dear to Laura, and therefore to the others, and the eve of the New Year. For the New Year holidays, everyone was going to scatter to different parts of the planet, today they were in a hurry to celebrate it, even if in advance, but all together.
The table in the dining room was covered with an old, white linen tablecloth from Defne's dowry. Fine porcelain and shining crystal, as well as silver cutlery, were a legacy left to the son of Emine Iplikci.
Several types of salads, snacks, meat, and cheese plates were brought from the Lunch restaurant, but Defne made a pilaf and her dolma with cherries. Omer put the meat on the charcoal grill behind the house, and Laura made the most delicate pannacotta and raspberry sauce to it. Sinan and Seda brought wine and a mountain of fruit.
The table was just full of dishes. There was a clink of forks and a cheerful laugh. In close company, where no one had secrets from each other and it was possible to express their feelings, the men looked at their women with love, kissed palms, and tenderly hugged shoulders. Those, in turn, responded with affectionate glances and fed their loved ones from the hands with the most tidbits.
Defne allowed herself to take a couple of sips of red wine from the glass of Omer and felt that her head was a little dizzy, and butterflies were flitting in her stomach. Although she had a strong suspicion that the wine had nothing to do with it. It was Omer's fiery looks and his sly smile that confused her thoughts and made her heart tremble. His hand rested on her shoulder and idly play with her hair. From time to time, his thumb touched the neck, and Defne's breath caught in from his innocent touch.
And Omer, not noticing, or pretending not to see how his wife quietly sighs nearby, poured jokes and laughed merrily at squabble between Seda and Sinan. They discussed their wedding, and their opinions differed on all, without exception, issues. Seda wanted a small wedding on the seaside, and Sinan wanted a grand celebration with hundreds of guests in one of the chic hotels in Istanbul.
- Well, why do we need a crowd that we barely know on our feast? - Seda was surprised. - There are enough friends and family who sincerely share our happiness with us.
- What about the status of the best wedding of the year? - Sinan was offended.
- Why do we need it? - Seda shrugged.
"All girls want it," said the groom confidently. - So that later you can brag to your friends, and they are wildly envious.
Seda laughed cheerfully and replied:
- I don't want any status. Also, my friends - she looked at Defne and Laura - will not envy and count the number of flowers in garlands and dishes on the tables.
"You're right about that," Sinan agreed. - But my mother's friends will be.
"That's what I'm talking about," Seda smiled at him cockily. - Why do we need your mother's friend at the wedding, who will find fault with everything and gossip? Let's make the feast for ourselves and enjoy it without any conventions.
- But in an expensive hotel, - the groom put the condition.
- On the seashore, - put forward the counter bride.
"Maybe then you get married on the island," Defne suggested. - There are luxury hotels on the seashore.
- Great idea! Sinan exclaimed. - Seda will drive up to the place of registration on a real carriage, and the trip can be made with a yacht.
"That's what I like," Seda agreed, and everyone else exhaled and laughed.
- We are also getting married - when the laugh stopped uttered Ahtem and looked at his bride with love. She answered with a radiant look.
- Hooray!!! - Defne shouted and rushed to hug her friend. - I knew I knew! Even when I saw a ring on your finger, I knew that Ahtem did not pull the cat by the tail and immediately proposed.
"He did," Laura laughed. - And I said yes.
- Who would have doubted, - Omer jerked her and hugged his friend. - Happiness to you! You deserve it like no one else. "Having released the girl, he turned to Ahtem and shook his hand. - Congratulations, brother! You made the right decision.
- The most correct! - He answered.
- And when is the wedding? - asked Sinan.
"Оn the tenth of January," Ahtem and Laura said in one voice.
- What? Four voices shouted in unison. - Less than a month, and we don't know about anything?
"The wedding will be small," Laura explained. - Ahtem and I have no relatives, so there will be only friends among the guests.
At these words, the smile on Defne's face faded. How painful it is when a person is deliberately deleted from life by his family. Knowing Laura's story, she understood her feelings. Because she was once erased from the life of her father and mother. Omer heard her thoughts. He took her hand and held it tight, tacitly promising with this gesture to always be there and choose her from millions of others.
- So, the tenth of January, - he asked again and the sound of his voice destroyed the sadness that had arisen in the room. - Well! We will just have time to return from the trip.
"We too," Sinan supported him. - And yet, brother, who will we leave at the head of the company for these ten days? Although there are holidays, there should not be anarchy in the company.
- Can we take a chance? - Omer smiled meaningfully.
- You mean? - the partner grabbed his head with both hands and goggled comically. - Allah, take care of my mind!
"Don't exaggerate," his friend said, laughing.
- What adventure are we getting involved in? Sinan shook his head. - He will drive Derya crazy!
Omer looked at him in surprise and remarked:
- Well, Derya will not be harmed. There won't be time for a couple of days.
- A few days? What do you mean? Sinan asked.
- Didn't she tell you? Derya gets married and leaves for Germany. I signed her resignation letter. December twenty-ninth is her last working day. I've already asked the PR department to find an assistant for me.
- Derya is getting married? - With amazement asked Defne, and then looked at her husband and cheerfully mocked: - Oh, dear! You will have a new assistant again.