“It would be my pleasure.”
12
The birthing centre was supposed to be state of the art, but it wasn’t like any hospital he’d been inside. It was all pale pinks and carpets and looked more like a very lush private hotel. Harriet and her midwife were wallowing in a Jacuzzi which only increased his dis-orientation.
The water-birth had been organised while he was away, and while he understood in theory this would be easier on Harriet, the thought of her giving birth underwater kind of creeped him out. The long list of qualifications held by the nursing sister reassured him, along with the knowledge her obstetrician was in the building.
“Are you ready, Dad?” A woman in her forties calling him dad was also kind of creepy but her easy competence shone through.
This was for Harriet and their baby. With a deep breath, he stepped into the water, manoeuvring behind her so he could support her when she started to push. He was wearing swim shorts and Harriet had started off with a loose t-shirt that had been discarded now she was so close, leaving her in just a sports bra. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but he had to focus his mind on what was happening. Their baby was about to change everything.
The midwife was totally focused. “Anytime now, Harriet.”
Afterwards he hardly remembered the details. Harriet panting, a rush of pink fluid in the water and then the baby. It all seemed too easy until he looked at the clock and realised how much time had passed.
Her joyful glow, despite her weariness as their son was placed in her arms, triggered a swell of emotion he could barely contain. His Harriet was so strong. She didn’t think so, but he could see it every day. He forced back the moisture in his eyes, aware of the other people in the room.
Harriet looked up at him with her unique radiance and smiled. “It’s all right.”
As if she knew the tangle of feelings that wrenched his insides. She did of course. She always had been in tune with him in the past, making her defection incomprehensible.
“Thank you, Lucas. Thank you for our little boy.”
He couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t come out tied up in knots, but she nodded and held out the baby. “What will we call him?”
They’d talked about it, mooting several names, but there was really only one answer for a child so much like Harriet, so like her brother. “Jordan.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Your parents told me.”
“And you’re all right with it? You don’t think it’s morbid?”
“I think it’s right. We can use one of the other names as well.” Her hand on his arm squeezed tight. The nerves coiled in his stomach eased. He hoped this would help her at least talk to her parents about her brother. He snorted. The irony of Lucas Hall trying to mend someone like Harriet when he was a total screw up. Physician heal thyself. Not Shakespeare this time. Maybe the bible. He was getting to be a regular Mr. Fixit.
The baby stirred in his arms, lavender eyes unfocused. “Hello, Jordan Hall.”
The wave of love that swept over him, the urge to protect this tiny being, it was almost too much. The stakes were too high for him to sit back and hope for the best. With Jordan’s birth, they just got higher. And the shadow in Harriet’s eyes as she looked at her baby was just one more warning not to slacken his vigilance.
Lucas adjusted the sheet across Jordan’s chest under Harriet’s watchful gaze. “He’s grown so much.” Tomorrow, he had to return to work. He’d taken three weeks off after the birth and loved the time bonding with the baby. And with Harriet.
She stroked the baby’s quiff of blonde hair with gentle fingers before moving away from the cot and into their bedroom. “I’m glad he is a boy. I wouldn’t like to feel I was replacing Faye.”
Lucas lifted her onto the bed and sat beside her. She’d been quiet all evening, meditating on the past, he suspected. He tightened his grip around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I never had the chance to hold our first baby.”
“When they told me she’d died, I think that was the moment I realised how empty my life was going to be. Until then I thought I would have a part of you with my baby.” She burrowed into his shoulder. “I didn’t want to go on. It nearly broke Mum and Dad’s heart. When I saw what I was doing to them, after everything, after Jordan. I was so ashamed.”
“Don’t ever be ashamed. You were grieving. For more than just our lost baby.”
She trembled against him and finally they came, the long shuddering sobs she’d held inside for over seven long years. He wrapped himself around her, rocking her as the tears fell, dampening his shirt. His own tears etched their way down his cheeks forming droplets on the spiked strands of blond hair under his chin. After a while he thought she slept, her breathing soft and even. He held her close, determined she would never feel alone again.
He knew that aching loneliness first hand, but he’d come late to the loss of the child he’d never known, too long ago to have the sharp edge of grief. It could never be real to him, not like Harriet would feel it. Soon, very soon his time would be up. He could only hope and pray he’d done enough, been enough to prove himself to Harry. Because he had too much to lose now. Harry had always been an indelible mark on his heart. He could rip it out, bury it deep and still live, but now she’d become his soul and if she ever took that away, he would die inside.
A soft grizzle from the nursery told him the other resident of his heart would soon be wide awake. Gently, he lay Harriet down, smiling at her small murmur of protest. There was time enough to show her, within the constraints of the doctor’s recommendation.
Harriet woke to the sound of the shower. Her heart did a happy dance that Lucas was home after a trip that had extended way longer than expected, but her head wanted to punish him a little for making her worry.
He appeared at the bathroom door, still rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. Wearing nothing else. She sucked in a harsh breath and clenched her toes.
Casually tossing the towel into the hamper, he fixed his gaze on her hopefully stern face. “Am I in the doghouse?”
“With a gazillion purple cushions to keep you company? You should be so lucky. You almost missed the party. The one you insisted on having.”
“I’m sorry, Harry.” He kissed her shoulder and the nape of her neck. She kind of liked the shorter hairstyle. Practical with a baby but it had other advantages.
“Crawling will be required. Lots of crawling.”
“You are so demanding, woman.”
The bedclothes heaved and she giggled as he vanished under them. His fingers wrapped around her toes. “Cold, much.”
His “sorry” was muffled as his hands disappeared. She waited as there was a flurry of movement at the foot of the bed and a cool draft touched the soles of her feet. A warm damp kiss landed on the arch of one foot and her toes curled in appreciation. He knew just what to do.
“I missed you.”
“Me, or this.” His fingers did the talking, skipping over the braces to seek the hot bloom of heat, flicking across the hard nub. She twitched under his touch and he soothed it with his mouth, warm and moist.
She groaned and tilted her hips for more. “This of course.”
He chuckled and complied, the flick of his tongue, the thrust of his fingers taking her over the edge into bliss.
She sighed as she came down to earth, snuggling into his shoulder when he moved to hold her. “I was all ready to give you a hard time for being late home but now I’m feeling all mellow.”
“Now I know how to get around you. One orgasm and I’m home and hosed.”
“I don’t know about this ‘one’, business. I did mention lots of crawling. That implies a multiple quantity. Perhaps one for every day you were late.”
“Three days, three orgasms. Sounds fair to me.”
“That’s not counting the one you just gave me. We’ll assume that was a freebie. A Sample. A trial download.”
; “I should have you negotiating my military contracts. You wouldn’t let them get away with anything.”
“Well, on careful consideration maybe I missed you too. You realise you have to crawl to Mrs. Mac too.”
His response was prompt. “I’ll send her flowers.”
“She’ll love that.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her with a strange expression. “You’ve changed.”
“In what way?”
“Bossier. But in a good way. I like it.”
She thought about it for a moment. Trying to remember. “I argued with you right from the start.”
“It’s different. You were pushing me away. Now…it’s different. It feels different.”
“I’m not pushing you away?”
“Demanding three orgasms with one on credit isn’t exactly pushing me away.”
“I suppose not.” His eyes ate her up, tender yet simmering with desire. It warmed her chest, bubbled up into laughter. “What have you done to me? Turned me into a sex-addict?”
Growling, he nipped her shoulder and down lower, suckling her nipple. “I’m going to have to work out a way to keep you with me.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to try too hard.”
He looked up at her, a half smile curling his mouth, his luscious beautiful mouth that did so many wonderful things. “I was actually thinking about something else…” Sitting up abruptly, he gripped her wrist. “Do you mean that?”
Disarmed by his serious tone, she nodded. Something changed. Whether it was the suppressed excitement radiating from Lucas, or her own conviction that this was a key moment. A life-changing moment.
“Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.”
Taking the spirit rather than the words themselves, Harriet sat up, smoothing the covers and tucking them around her chest. Something in his eyes as he’d made the demand left her feeling vulnerable, exposed. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Which was odd, because she’d spent so long, years, keeping up the façade to hide it. When had it changed? It had to be Lucas. When he was with her, she was real. He’d broken her down without her even noticing.
There’d been moments. The birth of Jordy. The night they cried together over lost Faye. The long talk she’d had with her parents about her childhood, about Jordan. She could think about her brother without that sensation of falling, of failing to hold on tight enough. Like Faye.
She glanced over at the wall where the photograph of baby Jordan hung, alongside an enlargement of the photograph of herself with tiny Faye. Lucas had taken the one of Jordy to be framed and come back with both. She could look at it now without that hollow feeling. Only a sense of gratitude for the comfort she’d felt with the child inside her in the lonely months after she’d sent Lucas away.
The air of suppressed excitement still hung about him as he flopped back on the bed beside her, tucking one leg under him so he could sit closely. Computer geek or not, he had the body of a god. He batted her hand away from his abs. “Not now. Later.”
His fist uncurled on her lap and she stared down at the glint of blue and gold and the flash of diamonds. Wonderingly she touched it with her finger, almost afraid it would vanish. “You had it mended.”
“It’s been six months. I asked for six months to prove myself. Will you wear my ring again?”
She pulled back her hand and saw him flinch. “Wait. That’s not my answer. I need to know.” She licked dry lips. “What about me? Did I pass?”
“No more lies? You tell me.”
“No lies. Only truth. I love you, Lucas. So much.”
“Then you pass.”
“Yes. The answer is yes.”
She reached out for the ring and his fist closed. “Not now. Tonight. This time we do it right.”
“At the party?”
“Yes. With your parents and our friends.”
“It seems a long time away.” She looked up at him coyly and laughed when his eyes darkened. “Is it later, yet?”
Much later, Harriet looked around the spacious living room. Not a big crowd. Her parents, some friends of Lucas, Graeme, Jimmie. Angela and a disreputable looking giant with a beard and glasses. Not what she expected. Mrs. Mac holding Jordy, wide eyed and alert. Hopefully he would last the distance.
The big surprise was Father O’Connor. He’d retired years ago. She glanced across at Lucas who was talking closely with Jimmie. He turned and caught her gaze. “It’s time.” He mouthed the words and a rush of butterflies invaded her stomach. Courage. I has it. Thanks to Lucas.
She put her hands to the wheels and made her way across the room, careful not to let the long skirt of her purple velvet dress catch. Caro was shushing everyone, waving for them to take a seat. That feeling of exposure hunched her shoulders. “Ready, Harry?”
Looking up she met his eyes, holding everything. Love, tenderness and a smidgen of desire, and something else. Pride. She was so not going to cry. Biting her lip, she let him adjust the chair into position. Father O’Connor pulled out a long strip of fabric and looped it around his neck. “So, this is official?”
Lucas nodded. He tossed down one of the despised purple cushions and knelt in front of her, his hand lightly touching the jewelled flower clips in her hair. “I’m glad you dressed up. Are they the same ones?”
“Yes. The other dress was wrecked in the accident, so I thought this would be appropriate.”
“Very appropriate, I fell in love with you in that dress that first night at the party.”
A cough from the priest silenced them. Lucas gripped her hands loosely on her lap.
The priest’s sonorous voice rolled over her, but she couldn’t take her eyes from Lucas. She heard Father welcome the guests. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of friends and family to support Lucas and Harriet Hall as they renew their vows.” A flurry of sound interrupted the priest but settled almost immediately. She dared a glance around and saw the eager anticipation in the audience. Her mother’s eyes were bright with happy tears, and her father’s smile was full of pride.
“Eight years ago, this fine young couple eloped, but as some of you know, an accident on their wedding night broke them apart. Now they have found their way back to each other and are here to recommit to the loving vows they made to each other on their wedding day.”
The familiar words came easily, prompted by the priest. To have and to hold, keeping only unto you. Old fashioned vows for an old-fashioned forever love. Her chest wanted to explode with it, warmth enveloping her, swamping her. She stared into the face of the man she’d loved from the moment she’d seen him, seeing all the love he had for her in his expression, open for the world to see.
Jimmie handed Lucas her ring. He looked deep into her eyes as he pushed it over her knuckle. “I love you, Harriet. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push you out of my heart. You belong there. This is never coming off again.”
Tears came as she smiled at him, her love shining through the sparkling droplets. “They had to cut it off me the first time.”
He kissed her hand as he lay it down, so she could take the other ring from their impromptu best man. The plain band with the engraved inscription inside slid home easily. As if it belonged.
“You may kiss the bride.”
His lips touched hers, almost tentatively, softening as she responded, putting her heart into the kiss, the tender caress speaking of all they wanted to say. The room erupted around them, but they stayed for those moments in a world of two.
She touched his hand. “You kept your ring too.”
“It was never off my finger until the day I saw your name on the funding application.”
“Why did you take it off?”
“At first I didn’t want you to know. After that, I knew I had to earn the right to wear it again.”
“We made things hard for ourselves.”
“It’s worth it in the long run. Knowing we have what it takes.” His fingers traced the leng
th of her fingers to touch the pattern on her wedding ring.
People hovered, waiting to congratulate, to exclaim. She turned her hand to link her fingers in his. “I suppose we have to be social now. Are you feeling up to it?”
“I’m all good. With you beside me I can conquer the world.”
“You mean you didn’t already?” His fugitive dimple peeped out and she reached over to kiss it. “Welcome back.”
Epilogue
Harriet stared, forgetting to blink. “It’s enormous.”
“It’s not the size, it’s what you do with it.”
“Idiot. Why on earth do you need a plane that big?”
“To transport my ever-growing family.” Lucas rubbed her swollen tummy with a cheeky grin.
Suddenly anxious, she looked up at his smiling face. “You don’t mind? We had planned to wait a while.”
“I guess it was a bit unexpected, considering we were supposed to be taking precautions. It’s not like I wasn’t aware of the risks. It takes two to tango.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“The horizontal tango? Of course. The dance of love.” He shunted his hips from side to side, his arms in a dance pose and she glanced around the empty tarmac. Only Mrs. Mac and Jordy could see her husband being utterly, adorably ridiculous and they were both too busy admiring the plane. Jordy was gabbling in his inimitable way and the dour Scotswoman watched him with something that almost resembled a smile.
Lucas squatted to bring himself to her eye level. “Now we come to the big question.”
“The big question? You expect me to pay for it, Mr. Billionaire, who buys 747’s out of his pocket money.”
“The question is, will you let me carry you up the stairs, or am I expected to pay more of my hard-earned billions to supply you with elevator access?”
“Oh.” Harriet looked over his shoulder at the staircase. She was tempted to insist on using her crutches to get herself up. It would leave her exhausted but assuage her pride. A young man in uniform stood at the top, welcoming Jordy who looked quite smug in the arms of his nanny.
Tell Me No Lies Page 18
