“I've yet to discover a woman who doesn't like a bit of romance. But if Andrea doesn't like that, find something that she does like. Haven't you talked to the girl at all?”
“Of course I've talked to her! I've explained to her what we are and why Dr. Haroldson is after her.”
“I don't mean about that! Haven't you talked to her about her dreams, her aspirations? What's her favourite book? Does she like music?”
“We never seem to get around to any of that.”
“Well, it's about time you did.”
Andrea chose that moment to go downstairs. She knew she shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but if she hadn't she would never have known how Jonathan felt about her. Would he ever have told her himself? Jonathan was sitting in an armchair staring at the fire. He looked up as she approached.
“Hi, Andrea. Felling better?”
“Much,” she replied with a smile. Oh, much, much better! Outside the rain had cleared, giving way to a bright blue sky, unbroken by any clouds. It was hard to believe that they'd arrived in the middle of a downpour.
“I hope it stays clear tomorrow,” mumbled Jonathan, almost to himself. “I was wondering if you'd like to go on a picnic with me tomorrow? We can have a walk along the beach. What do you think?”
“It sounds wonderful, Jonathan. I'm looking forward to it.”
“You are?” He sounded so surprised that Andrea had to stop herself from bursting out laughing. Just then Edith came in from the kitchen with a tray laden with mugs of hot chocolate, home-made soda bread and cakes and biscuits. There was a china pot of blackberry jam and a jar of honey.
“I hope you're both hungry. There's plenty more in the kitchen.” Andrea hadn't realized how hungry she was until she and Jonathan both reached for the last piece of soda bread at the same time. “You have it,” said Jonathan.
“No, you,” replied Andrea. They both carried on in the same vein until Edith took the last slice, broke it in two and handed them a piece each, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
“Jonathan, I'm going to visit with your aunt Millie for a while. I thought it would be nice if you could have the place to yourselves. That way the honeymoon isn't over yet, is it?”
Andrea tried not to giggle and wondered what Edith would say if she knew that the honeymoon hadn't even started yet!
“How long are you staying?” Asked Jonathan
“A week or so. You're both welcome to stay here as long as you like.” Andrea hoped no one noticed how badly her cup was shaking. Alone with Jonathan. She was to be alone with Jonathan. What was that old saying, be careful what you wish for, it might come true? And now that her wish had come true, she wasn't sure she wanted it. Did Jonathan want it?
He looked pleased, but maybe that was an act for his aunt's benefit. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The three of them played cards by the fire, but all Andrea could think about was Jonathan and how soon she was going to be alone with him. She wondered if they could hear how loudly her heart was thumping at the prospect. Just as they finished the last round of cards, Edith yawned and stretched.
“Well, I'm off to bed. I have an early start in the morning.” She gave both of them a peck on the cheek and headed upstairs. After she was gone the only sounds were the two of them breathing and the crackle of logs on the fire. Andrea gathered up the cards and put them back in their box.
“I think I'll go up to bed too,” she said, wondering if Jonathan would take it as an invitation.
“What? Oh, yes, goodnight then.” He kissed her on the cheek and she felt as though she had been branded by a hot iron. She hardly slept at all that night, tossing and turning in the double bed. It didn't help that the room had once been Jonathan's. Just thinking about that made her want Jonathan to be in the room, but she was afraid to make the first move. She still hadn't forgotten his rejection of their kiss. He was her husband now, didn't that make a difference? She hoped so.
She hugged a pillow to her, pretending it was Jonathan. She couldn't stop thinking about the fact that that Jonathan once slept in this bed, and how much she wanted him in it right now, kissing her, caressing her, touching her in all her secret places. Andrea had never felt as aroused as this before, not once.
What would Jonathan say if she went across the hall right now and got into bed with him? Would he send her away? In the end that was what decided her, not the fact that Edith might hear them.
She couldn't bear his rejection a second time. She threw the covers from her, was it suddenly getting hot? The pillow she kept clutched to her chest, and when she woke in the morning, it was still there. She eased herself out of bed, not willing to relinquish the wonderful dream she had. A dream where everything was going the way she wanted it to. Unlike reality, but today she planned to change all that.
With a broad smile on her face she rummaged in the suitcase for something to wear that wasn't too creased. The only thing that wasn't was a dress in navy chiffon with a contrasting white collar and pearl buttons. She supposed she should really choose something more practical if they were going walking, but she wasn't in a practical mood. She was in a frilly flouncy mood, which was most unlike her, and the dress would have to do. Her underwear (bought by Jonathan for their disastrous cruise), she chose with more care than usual, deciding on matching white satin bra and pants set. She wore stockings for the first time in her life, and they felt wonderful against her skin.
Everything had been chosen by Jonathan. Did he guess her taste, or was this what he wanted to see her in?
The shoes were the worst problem. She couldn't very well go walking in high heels, not that she had any, but trainers would spoil the look of her dress. She settled on a pair of flat white pumps, which were practical for walking and set off her dress perfectly. Looking in the mirror, she despaired.
What was she going to do with her hair? Her restless night had taken its toll on her locks. It looked as though she'd slept in a hedge. Trying to comb out the knots was nearly impossible, but she persevered until there was some semblance of hair, as opposed to hay. She braided it and tied it with a navy ribbon, which Jonathan had kindly left in the case. How did he know she would need it?
Jonathan was already up and in the kitchen making breakfast, his back to her. The smell of burnt toast was prevalent. “I burnt the first lot. Edith got a new toaster. It seems to have two settings. Burnt, or even more burnt. Would you like some cereal instead?”
“Please,” said Andrea and sat down. As he turned around, he almost dropped the bowls he was carrying.
“Wow, you look wonderful!” Andrea wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or insulted. Was it such a surprise that she could look beautiful?
Jonathan was wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt, with the top button undone. A wisp of his chest hair was visible and Andrea had a very pleasant daydream of slowly undoing all his buttons one by one.
Andrea ate the bowl of cornflakes in silence, her eyes on the dish and not on Jonathan. She wished she wasn't feeling so nervous. Did Jonathan feel it too, she wondered?
“I thought we could make a start after breakfast. The path goes on for miles. We can stop somewhere for lunch. There's bound to be somewhere.”
“It sounds great,” said Andrea, although she wasn't thinking about lunch. After they'd both washed up, they set off. Jonathan had a picnic basket in one hand and Andrea's hand in the other.
Her hand kept sweating so much that she had to keep wiping it on her dress. Occasionally, Jonathan looked at her and smiled. Her heart soared. He smiled at her!
The view from the cliff path was breathtaking. Sunlight glittered on the water like a thousand lamps. A few yachts bobbed in the water, anchored to orange plastic. As Andrea watched, a windsurfer fell into the water with an audible splash.
“I wish I could do that,” said Andrea.
“What? Fall in?” Laughed Jonathan.
“No, surf.”
“Why don't you, then?”
“I think I should be a
ble to swim first.”
“You can't swim?” Said Jonathan, sounding as surprised as if she'd said she couldn't walk.
“Is that a crime?” Asked Andrea, sulkily.
“No, I was just surprised, that's all. I thought all your family could swim.” They fell into an awkward silence, and Andrea wished they could feel more at ease with each other. He loved her, she loved him, so what was the problem?
The sun was gradually getting warmer and Andrea wished for a hat. She felt her scalp burning and knew that soon she was going to get a headache. Wasps and butterflies hovered around the wild flowers on either side of the path. They didn't seem interested in the human invaders. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any bees. Andrea couldn't abide bees, not since she'd been stung. She panicked at the mere thought of them.
The path began a steep descent and she had to hold onto Jonathan for support. Sand and stones made the going slippery and she didn't want to fall flat on her face. At this moment in time, she couldn't think of anything more undignified.
“Hang on, we're nearly there,” said Jonathan as he slowed on the final few steps and they were on the beach. It was even more difficult to walk along the beach than it had been on the path. It felt like wading through treacle.
Eventually they walked along the shore until they came to a copse of trees. They could see people walking by, but no one could see them. This section of the beach was deserted, except for a man walking his dog. The dog seemed more interested in running through the water, than obeying any instruction his master gave him. Jonathan took out the blanket he'd packed in the basket and laid it beneath the trees. He lay down, resting his head on his hand, his elbow sticking out to support it. Andrea sat down, with her legs tucked beneath her. The man and his dog were soon out of sight.
“Are you hungry yet?” Asked Jonathan.
“Not really,” said Andrea. He got up and sat beside her, as close as he could.
“Jonathan, there's something I've got to tell you.”
He frowned at her. “I don't think I'm going to like it.”
“I think you will,” she smiled at him. “I overheard you talking to your aunt. I know I shouldn't have been listening, but I couldn't help it. I had to find out how you felt about me.”
“Why didn't you ask me?”
“I wasn't sure whether you'd tell me the truth, or what you think I wanted to hear. I love you, Jonathan, and I don't want an annulment. Your aunt's right. We were meant to be together.” The relief on his face was a joy to see. At last, how they felt about each other was out in the open.
“Before you agree to stay married to me, there's something I have to tell you too,” began Jonathan. Andrea felt the colour drain from her face. She didn't want to know anything about the woman whom Jonathan spent some of their honeymoon with. She would rather pretend it hadn't happened. She didn't want to have to admit that he'd betrayed her.
“When you were gone. When Haroldson took you that first time, and you were in the coma I got involved with someone else. I slept with her. I can't give you an excuse or an explanation, because there isn't one. I'm sorry, I was weak. I'm always weak without you. I know we weren't even going out together then, but it still felt like I'd betrayed you.”
“What about on the cruise? Who was she? Was it the waitress?” They might as well get everything out in the open now. Then they could move on.
“What do you mean?”
“You came back reeking of perfume and it wasn't mine. So who was she?”
“Oh, Andrea!” He laughed. “Is that what you thought? I was sleeping in the gift shop and a box of perfume fell on me! We were married; I would never have gone with anyone else then.”
Andrea was trembling, a mix of desire and fear. To be so close to him. He bent his head forward as his lips sought hers. The kiss began tentatively at first, as if they were both unsure of what to do.
Gradually his kiss became stronger and more passionate. Andrea felt as though she was falling backwards. She sank to the ground pulling Jonathan with her. They lay on the sand as he kissed her over and over again. His fingers began to entwine themselves in her hair, sending shivers up and down her spine. His other hand began caressing her leg, reaching up to her thigh. It felt like an electric shock. Andrea gasped in surprise and Jonathan pulled away. “I'm sorry. If you're not ready, we don't have to do this.”
“No, don't stop,” whispered Andrea, and was ashamed of the thought. But it quickly passed. She couldn't stop now even if she wanted to. But she didn't. She wanted Jonathan. He leaned over and began unbuttoning her dress, kissing her flesh between buttons. As he eased it off her shoulders, he kissed her neck and shoulder with a touch as light as a feather.
He began to suck on her nipple, sending shock waves straight to her groin. A groan escaped her mouth as she stroked his hair. His mouth moved lower, tracing fire wherever he kissed her. He gently nudged her thighs apart with his nose and began to kiss the length of her thighs. She was shaking so much that it was difficult to concentrate. Jonathan's tongue found her centre and began to lick her, gently at first, and then harder as the sensations increased. She was going to die. He was going to kill her with pleasure.
“OH GOD!” she sobbed as the first waves of orgasm threatened to overwhelm her. When the ebb had subsided somewhat, Jonathan crawled up so that he was level with her and hugged her until she calmed down, placing kisses on her forehead. Andrea could hardly breathe, she felt as though she might faint. She found herself undoing the buttons of Jonathan's shirt, as if she couldn't bear to have anything between their skins for any longer. Jonathan took her hand and placed it over his pounding heart.
“It feels just like mine,” said Andrea.
“I love you,” said Jonathan and kissed her on the tip of her nose. She hugged him as tight as she could. As the final moment of surrender drew ever nearer, she tensed beneath him.
He looked down at her, the love in his eyes so obvious that she wondered why she'd never seen it this clearly before.
“I won't hurt you, Andrea, I promise. All you have to do is relax.” He gently parted her legs with his hand and began to explore her with his fingers. He opened her up as though he was unfolding the petals of a delicate flower. Soon she could hardly bear it for much longer.
“Please, Jonathan!” She groaned in anticipation He held her by the hips as he drove into her, so slowly and gently that she thought she would die of frustration.
“Faster, Jonathan! Harder!”
He stopped and looked down at her. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“Don't stop! Please!” There had been a little pain at first, but she was beyond that now. “Faster, Jonathan, please! I need it like that.” He obeyed and thrust into her. It was the most incredible sensation she had ever experienced. Jonathan. She was with Jonathan. Soon, he thrust even faster and she suddenly felt the warmth of his essence inside her, which made her come so strongly, that she wondered if she really was going to die.
He collapsed on top of her, spent.
Chapter Five
They lay in each other's arms, dressed again in case someone walked along the beach. A few minutes ago, Andrea wouldn't have cared. All she could think of was Jonathan and how he'd made love to her.
“Did I hurt you?” asked Jonathan.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, just a little,” she admitted.
“You should have told me you were still a virgin.”
“It didn't seem - appropriate,” laughed Andrea and kissed him. Something strange had happened after they'd made love. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to happen or if it was her imagination. An elderly couple walked along the sand, hand in hand. She could see it round them too.
“Jonathan,” she began.
“Yes?” He mumbled sleepily.
“Can you see something round people?”
“What do you mean?”
“I'm not sure. It's like a-well it's like a sort of glow.”
“Oh, that. I'm surprised Lucy didn't mention it to you. Because you're no longer a virgin, you powers have increased. What you can see is people's auras.”
“I suppose next you'll tell me that I can douse for water with two sticks!”
“No, you don't need the sticks.”
Andrea found it hard to believe in all these so-called powers that everyone kept telling her she had. None of it made any sense, but then her life never had. She always felt as though she was the odd one out. “I'm getting a headache. Can we go back?” she asked.
“Eat something first. That's maybe why you've got a headache,” said Jonathan and handed her a sandwich. Andrea complied unwillingly. She just didn't feel hungry. A sandwich and a quiche later, they packed up the picnic basket and headed back. As they got nearer to the house, Andrea's headache increased, like what had happened at Pompeii.
“Something's wrong,” she said to Jonathan and put a hand on his arm to keep him from going any further. He didn't ask how she knew.
“We'll be careful,” he said and continued up the path. Andrea followed him. She wanted to be with him, even if there was a danger. As they neared the cottage, they saw the reason for Andrea's uneasiness. Something was huddled in the doorway. It looked like a bundle of rags, but on closer inspection proved to be a person.
“Oh my God! It's him!” Exclaimed Andrea, but not as they'd last seen Dr. Haroldson. He was dressed like a tramp, with filthy hair and dirty clothes. As Andrea bent down to see if he was all right, a hand jerked out from the bundle of rags and grabbed her wrist.
Too late she felt the needle prick her arm. After that, there was only pain and darkness.
*
When she came to, she was in some sort of basement. It was cold and she shivered violently. Water dripped from the walls and she could smell damp earth. She was completely naked and vulnerable.
Leather restraints pinned her wrists and ankles to the bed she was laying on, some sort of hospital bed. What was it doing in the basement? But that wasn't what was worrying her. The sight of Dr. Haroldson bending over her with a syringe in his hand was what was worrying her. She saw him raise it and expel the air, a few drops of liquid escaping from the tip of the needle.
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