“How did you get to be so tough?” Stefan asked suddenly.
Tink was surprised by his question and the softness of his tone. She looked confused for a moment.
“Yesterday – in the bedroom. I thought you were going to kill me,” Stefan added. There was a hint of a smile on his face.
Tink smiled back self-consciously. “I’m sorry I swore at you.”
Stefan grunted. “I’m sorry you had to.”
He dropped down onto his haunches so their eyes were level. He reached out for her hand and now his expression was solemn. “I’m sorry, Tink. I was so deep in my misery and despair that I couldn’t see a way out. Thank you. I needed the kick in the guts you gave me. I really did.”
Tink felt a sting of tears in her eyes, but they were happy, hopeful tears. She blinked them away and sniffed. “I was worried you would hate me.”
Stefan shook his head. “You showed me how much you cared – about me and Renee. The fact that you were prepared to risk our friendship made me realize how passionate I need to be to win Renee back. I spent a long time thinking last night,” he admitted. “I realized I gave Renee all my love, but never all of my heart. Now I need to find out if everything I have will be enough. But, like you said, I have nothing left to lose now.”
Tink squeezed his hand and felt the first glimmer of hope. “Do you have an idea? Do you know some way you can show Renee how much you want a future with her?”
Stefan smiled – a slow warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes and made them sparkle.
“Yes,” he said softly. “I think I’ve found a way.”
Twenty-Four.
For nearly two weeks the toolshed and the barn were declared off limits to Peter and Tink.
Each morning Stefan would rise with the sun and stride up the gentle hill, only returning when it was too dark to work a moment longer. He ate ravenously and flung himself down on the bed, sleeping like the dead each night through the crush of his physical exhaustion.
As the days passed, his body began to harden. The alcohol sweated away through his pores, and the sun burned his upper body dark. His face filled out again, the features of his face smoothing and sharpening around the lines of his jaw.
There was comfort in the effort; a total absorption and dedication that worked as therapy, giving him time to come to terms with the terrible loss of baby Storm, but never so much time to dwell and sink back into the depths of his despair. Stefan labored with a passion he had never known before.
On the last day, when the work was done, Stefan went down to the farmstead and borrowed Peter’s pickup. He draped heavy tarpaulins over the load, and tied it carefully.
He looked down at his hands. They were blistered and gouged, like war wounds from a battle he had fought and won.
Stefan smiled.
He went into the cool shade of the farmstead, bare chested, with his body glistening with sweat.
He was ready at last.
Twenty-Five.
Somehow when the phone began to ring, Renee knew it was Stefan. Her hand hovered over the receiver for long moments. He had not phoned for ten days, and though she and Tink chatted daily, Renee had never asked about Stefan.
Now, with a sudden lurch that made her stomach clench, she realized how much she missed him. She snatched up the phone and said softly, “Hello.”
“Renee. It’s Stefan.”
There was long silence. Renee bit her lip, feeling a sudden surge of emotions. Anger and hurt still mingled, but no longer so strong. Older, more instinctive feelings added themselves to the mixture, simmering together so that she felt herself oscillating wildly at the mere sound of his voice.
“How are you?” she asked softly.
“I miss you.”
Stefan’s words hung in the air. Renee missed him too – but the wounds were still too raw, the words too jagged to say. She gasped softly.
“I love you Renee. I love you more than life itself. I want to show you how much you mean to me…”
Renee felt her sadness welling up into her throat, choking the sound of her voice. She had not wept for days, she had kept it all hidden, bottled away – but now the first tearful sob burst from her. “You had that chance, Stefan.”
“No!” he said quickly, and there was something urgent and passionate in his voice; a spark she had thought extinguished by his grief. “I’ve only ever had the chance to tell you, Renee. Now I’m coming to the house to show you.”
Twenty-Six.
The drive to the house was an hour-long torture of Stefan’s fears and doubts.
He drove carefully, mindful of the precious load tied onto the back of the pickup, and as he drew ever closer to the estate, his anxiety grew until his hands trembled on the steering wheel like he was in the grips of a high fever.
For many days he had rehearsed and replayed in his mind all of the events about to unfold, and whilst he chided himself that to do so was mere fantasy, his imagination had run riot with hopeful expectation.
Now, the reality seemed much less romantic – much more perilous.
He was risking everything, and whilst he told himself again and again that he had nothing more to lose, the truth was that he had never yet considered the possibility of life without Renee.
Now all those fears and consequences were tumbling down on him, crushing down on his hopes and compounding his torment so that it was a relief to finally steer the pickup into the driveway and shut off the engine.
Stefan sat in the cab of the vehicle for long moments. He could feel his heart racing. The roar of his blood pounding in his ears was like a relentless drum. He wiped his sweating hands on his jeans and stared at himself in the rear-vision mirror.
“In a single moment, fate changed your life,” he whispered to his reflection. “Now you have a chance to change it back again.”
He climbed out of the pickup and went around to the back of the vehicle. The knotted ropes came away quickly. He dragged the covering tarpaulins aside and folded them. Then he took the weight of the timber in his hands and carried it carefully to the front step. He set it down.
It was sunset. Over Stefan’s shoulder, the sky was turning glorious shades of crimson and orange, melting the afternoon clouds with golden light, and blanketing the world in a hush of silent calm.
Stefan took one last long breath – and knocked on the door.
The door opened slowly and Renee stood, unsure and nervous before him.
Stefan felt the surge of his emotions grip tight around his heart. Renee was dressed in a simple white blouse and grey skirt. The bruises had faded from her face, leaving her skin fresh and glowing, and he noticed the touch of color she had dabbed on her lips. Her hair had been cut. It hung down to her shoulders, falling in soft golden curls. He liked it.
She smiled at him tentatively and there was a softness in her expression that encouraged him. He reached out for Renee’s hand, but she flinched.
Renee bit her lip. The sunlight was behind Stefan so he appeared as a tall broad-shouldered silhouette, but she noticed the clearness in his eyes, and how he seemed infused with color and new vitality.
“Stefan, I don’t…”
“No.” Stefan said, cutting her off. “Please, before you say anything, please just hear me out.”
She nodded – a little nervous movement of her head.
Stefan took a deep breath – and then fixed his gaze on Renee’s face so that she could see his passion in every word.
“I don’t believe you and I are a tragedy, Renee. I don’t believe this dreadful sadness should define us. We are a love story – a story of two people who love each other beyond all limits. What we have is not perfect – no love is – but it’s too precious to lose. It’s too precious to walk away from. I came here today to show you what love can do, and to show you my hope for our future.”
He stood aside, and Renee suddenly saw the beautiful cradle he had set upon the step.
It was the most exquisite piece of craftsm
anship Renee had ever seen. She had admired photos of beautiful cribs in the baby magazines, each one like a work of art, but now those images had been made real. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was drawn out onto the porch, numbed with her disbelief.
The cradle had been crafted from a dark wood, each piece selected by Stefan for its beautiful timber grain. The headboard of the cradle was carved with two kissing angels, the detail so exquisite that Renee could see the definition of each figure’s features. She reached out her hand, running her fingers over the frame.
The crib swung gently from a wide timber base, the supporting arms also carved with a delicate pattern of vines and leaves that twisted in and around the contours of the timber.
“I built this for us,” Stefan said softly. “I wanted to show you how much I love you, and how much I want to share my future with you. I can never apologize enough for betraying your faith – but if you give me the chance, I’ll dedicate the same love and care to our marriage as I poured into this crib, Renee. I built this to show you that I want our future to include another baby – if you’d like to try again.”
Renee stared at him, open-mouthed, her eyes filling with tears.
Stefan reached out his hand, and pressed his palm lightly against her chest. “You have my heart,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. “Now, I’m asking you to give me hope – hope for a future we can share together. Forever.”
Renee sobbed, feeling the erratic flutter of her pulse under the touch of Stefan’s hand. Then suddenly she went willingly into his arms, wrapping her hands tight around his shoulders and pressing her face to his chest so she could feel the same racing beat of his own heart against her cheek.
They clung to each other until the light began to fade, blazing one final glorious cascade of color across the sky. Then Renee lifted her face to Stefan’s, and he kissed her.
Stefan’s hold was fierce, protective and possessive as their mouths crushed together. He felt himself trembling, thrilling in the eruption of passion. He held her like the precious gift she was, and she melted within his arms.
The kiss brought more tears to Renee’s eyes as a fierce surge of emotion welled up within her, a tumult of enduring sadness, but overwhelmed by stronger sensations re-awakened. Renee clung to Stefan for heart-stopping moments, inhaling the scent of him, and drawing immense comfort from the feel of his strong arms as she sheltered – for just an instant – from all the heartache. She wept tears of relief and joy as their kiss seemed to fuse them back together, mending their broken hearts and giving hope for a new future in the way that Renee knew only one kind of kiss could ever do.
Her Husband’s Kiss.
* * *
“Her Master’s Kiss 5”
Vivien Sparx
Copyright © 2013 Vivien Sparx
All Rights Reserved.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/vivien.sparx
Blog: http://viviensparx.blogspot.com.au/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/viviensparx
Author’s note: This is the final installment in the ‘Her Master’s Kiss’ series featuring Stefan and Renee. But – as one door closes, another exciting relationship comes alive…
One.
“God, I have never felt so nervous!” Renee stood in the centre of the bedroom floor, staring at the lingerie laid out across the big bed. “I feel like I’m getting ready for a date.”
She swung her head to the side, which set the long blonde tresses of her hair swishing, silken and shiny across the honey-brown skin of her naked shoulders. Then she turned on her heel and stepped across the room to the full-length mirror in the corner. She frowned at herself and pulled a face at her reflection. Then she tried again, this time practicing a sexy, sensual smile.
“You’re lucky you don’t need to go through all this,” she spoke over her shoulder. “You’ve got the best life in the world.”
Curled up on Stefan’s wing-backed leather chair, Jeffrey the Labrador lifted his head for just long enough to acknowledge the sound of Renee’s voice. Then he yawned massively… and rested his head back onto his paws.
Renee came up onto the tips of her toes, sucking in her stomach and at the same time pushing forward her breasts. She turned from side to side, her eyes critical of the way her body had changed over the past months since baby Storm had died. The flat, firm planes of her abdomen were still there, but now the edges of muscle had been softened, and perhaps her hips were just a little wider.
Could that be possible?
“What do you think?” she asked the dog. Jeffrey opened one eye lazily, and then closed it again.
Renee cupped her hands under the weight of her breasts and gently squeezed at the nipples until they became firm and hard little buds in her fingertips, inspecting her body critically for more signs of softness. Her breasts were still firm and well-shaped in the palms of her hands… but still… maybe they had lost some of their elasticity?
She shook her head, and leaned closer to the mirror. She practiced another sexy smile, and noticed the two small creases beneath her eyes that had not been there before… before baby Storm had died.
She was different, Renee realized. She was changing. But what woman could go through all that she had and not be changed?
Renee sighed and stepped back from the mirror. She crossed to the bed, flicking a distaining glance at Jeffery. “Sorry. I hope my talking hasn’t disturbed you,” she said wryly.
The bed was covered with red lingerie; a collection of lace panties, bras, corsets and stockings. Renee sighed. It had been a long time since she had worn any of it. She hoped it would still fit her new body.
There was a pair of sheer silk panties at the edge of the mattress, she picked them up and rubbed the glossy material against her cheek. She stepped into them with two long-legged strides. The fit was soft and sensual. Renee felt the first shudder of her anticipation, and reached for the bra beside the pillow.
She fastened the bra, fitting the shape of her breasts comfortably, and turned in a full circle, so that her hair bounced and shimmered. “Well? What do you think?”
Jeffery opened his eyes slowly and seemed to sigh. His big brown eyes fastened on the shape of Renee, and then he wearily uncoiled himself from his comfortable position on the chair and jumped down to the bedroom floor. He trotted out of the room to find somewhere quieter to sleep.
“Traitor!”
Her cosmetics were in the en suite. Renee snatched a pair of diamond stud earrings from the dressing table and put them on.
The en suite was still foggy with steam from her shower. Renee smeared away the mist with the palm of her hand and took one last look at her reflection under the harsh lighting.
She was different. It was in her eyes, not in her expression. It wasn’t a physical aging – it was emotional scarring. There were shadows of sadness, and a haunted hardness in her gaze that no cosmetics could ever conceal. It was her – the new her, and she realized that part of what she had lost in the terrible months since baby Storm had died, was not her youthful looks, but her innocence.
Renee sighed, and screwed her eyes tightly shut.
No. This isn’t the time to go back over the past again. What has happened, cannot be undone. It can never be forgotten, but neither can it ever be allowed to destroy us. I’ve got to keep fighting for us!
When she opened her eyes again, she briskly went about applying her makeup with purposeful touches of the small brushes, working deliberately to accentuate the size and colour of her eyes and highlight her cheek bones. The final touch was the merest slick of lip-gloss. She stood back and stared at herself again – this time dispassionately, as an artist would inspect his work. She smiled rather grimly.
When she came back into the bedroom, Renee shot a glance at the bedside clock. It was 5.50pm. She slipped
on her high heels and took the red dress from the wardrobe.
It fitted just as it always had.
Renee stepped to the mirror, leaned forward and studied her cleavage before pouting at herself critically one last time.
Her diamond bracelet – the conch – was in the top drawer of her dressing table, where it had been for many months. She draped the beautiful piece of jewelry over her wrist and fastened it carefully. The diamonds glittered in the fading glow of afternoon light, catching the sun’s last rays and sparkling the light into brilliant white shards.
Renee took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes. She was nervous – and she was anxious. There was so much at risk, and so much she was unsure of. The months since Stefan had come back to her had been harder than she had imagined, and the tense strain between them was like a fragile thing that might be shattered at any moment.
She knew Stefan. He was a man she couldn’t push. For all his determination and intensity, he was stubborn and traditional in so many aspects of life.
Renee knew she was about to gamble on their future together.
Two.
Renee opened the champagne as soon as she heard the key in the front door lock. She poured two glasses and set them on the table. Then she quickly lit the candles in the centre-piece, and stood in the kitchen opening, suddenly overcome with a terrible sense of panic and trepidation so that she felt the trembles in her legs. She was nervous.
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