by Sara Wood
Winding her legs around him. Flinging her head back, lifting her heavy breasts for him, enticing his fingers lower and lower, her eyes luring him on, mouth soft and supple as it aroused his lips, his hard, sensitive nipples and the wonderful manliness of him.
The heat of him within her made her almost cry with pleasure. The firmness of his mouth on hers told her what it meant to him, too. This was the beginning of their life together as a real family. The promise of love and joy to come.
Of trust and support. A lifetime of loving.
‘I love you!’ he said roughly. ‘More than you could ever know.’
‘My darling,’ she whispered, her eyes glistening with happy tears. ‘I know. Oh, I do know.’
Within her, the silk of him slid in the first movements of its pagan rhythm. Helen closed her eyes and gave herself to it. And to Dan.
His hands gripped her shoulders tightly and she lifted her lashes to watch as his climax neared. He was beautiful. The dark crescents of his lashes fluttered in a delicious agony, his lips parted as he whispered her name over and over again.
And she knew no more, only the wonderful escape of her body and her mind to that total surrender of herself, the moment when they were indivisible.
‘Sweetheart, sweetheart,’ he groaned.
‘Dan!’
Their bodies meshed, limbs damp with sweat, muscles taut as they reached the peak of sensation and began to sink into the warm comfort of the aftermath.
‘So much for tiredness,’ she mumbled sleepily.
‘You’d arouse a brick wall,’ he growled.
‘I do the jokes.’
‘Forgot.’
She gave a beatific smile and nestled in his arms. They had faced the edge of the precipice in their marriage and had survived. And now she could relax and enjoy life to the full.
Although the villagers were worried about their houses, they were remarkably cheerful in the morning, happily munching cereal and toast and bacon and egg cooked—as Helen had predicted—by a group of amiable helpers.
For two days the water level remained at danger level. The adults invented hilarious games to keep the children amused and Helen and Dan were swamped with offers to help with the twins who gurgled and chuckled happily at everyone who came to admire and entertain them.
Beside blazing fires, the villagers chatted and whiled away the long, dark evenings, and Helen adored watching Dan: the firelight glowing on his handsome face and highlighting its planes and hollows, his happiness so transparent that everyone who looked at him was forced to smile in response.
This was his extended family, she thought as they cuddled their beautiful babies and talked softly with everyone into the night. The babies they might so nearly have lost. The husband she might never have had.
This was what Dan and she had always longed for. The house might look like a refugee camp with beds and clothes strewn about and bodies and bustle and chaos everywhere, but it was filled with laughter and fun and the closeness that came with shared troubles. She and Dan were a special part of the village now. Family.
Eventually the water went down sufficiently for some of them to assess the damage to their homes. Dan went, too, to lend a hand with shifting furniture or lifting sodden carpets. Those who stayed at Deep Dene kept telling Helen how much they admired Dan. And she agreed fervently.
During Dan’s absence, Helen found herself facing a frightened looking Celine when she opened the front door. To Helen’s surprise she was in a very severe tailored suit and no sign of killer heels or sassy pink anywhere, just a plain white shirt and sensible mid-height court shoes.
But Helen was far too happy to feel angry. Her smile took Celine aback and the woman burst into floods of tears.
‘Quickly. Come into Dan’s study,’ Helen said sympathetically, her arm around Celine’s shaking shoulders. ‘It’s the only place I can guarantee privacy.’
‘Oh, Helen! I’m so sorry,’ Celine said wretchedly. ‘Can I explain?’ she asked.
‘Of course. Sit down.’
Celine did so, very upright, very proper. She placed a carrier bag on the floor beside her, took a deep breath and began to talk very fast, her face white and frightened.
‘I’ll start at the beginning. I made a fool of myself, basically,’ Celine confessed. ‘You see, Dan had been talking about you a lot in the office, about how he was worried you weren’t happy with the house and how you two hardly saw one another. He was working frantically hard so he could buy you a flat in London as a surprise—’
‘A what?’ exclaimed Helen. ‘They cost the earth!’
‘I know. But he didn’t care. He thought it might be the solution. He was terrified some guy at work would grab you and take you away from him.’ Embarrassed, Celine looked down at her neatly manicured hands—no coloured polish, Helen noticed. ‘Oh, I could sink into the ground with shame, Helen, for what I did! He’s fantastic, is Dan. And I felt sorry for him and thought I was in love with him. I got it into my head that you weren’t appreciating him and that he’d fall for me if I could only get him into bed. I’m so ashamed. He’d done nothing to encourage me. Honestly. I hadn’t realised how crazy he was about you, and that he’d be screaming blue murder because I’d destroyed his marriage. I hid his clothes….’ She picked up the bag and handed it to Helen shame-facedly.
Helen looked inside and drew a breath. The missing suit and shirt, complete with coffee stains. She looked up, her eyes querying this.
‘I shoved it behind a chest in the hall before I—before I took all my clothes off,’ Celine muttered, blushing to the roots of her hair.
‘And you then arranged your clothes on the stairs?’ Helen asked gently.
Celine nodded, her face a picture of misery. ‘I can hardly bear to think of it! When—when I eventually left in the taxi, I took his clothes home and stowed them away in the back of my wardrobe—then promptly forgot them. Dan came round and tore strips off me that left me raw and bleeding inside. I realised then how badly I’d behaved. It was a cheap and wicked thing to do. I know that now, and I badly want your forgiveness, Helen. I want to start afresh and get this off my back. It’s hanging over me like the sword of Damocles and I want everything sorted before my marriage so that I feel clean and decent again. Please forgive me.’
Helen went over and sat beside the shaking Celine. ‘Of course I do,’ she said softly. ‘How can I blame you for adoring the man I think is the most wonderful person in the world?’ She smiled and hugged Celine who burst into tears of relief. ‘I almost ought to be annoyed with you for falling in love with someone else!’ she said with a teasing laugh.
Celine brightened up. ‘Oh, Helen, John is just perfect! I’ve never known anyone so kind and gentle and understanding. He’s made me feel so much better about myself. I’ve found happiness that I never knew could exist. Real happiness. Based on love.’
Helen blinked. Those weren’t the qualities she would have thought mattered to Celine. What a funny old world.
‘Tell me about him,’ she urged.
A bliss that Helen recognised as besotted love infused Celine’s face. ‘I was arranging for Dan to organise the records for a church charity and John was my contact. He’s the canon at my local church—’
Helen blinked. ‘A man of the cloth?’
‘I know! I can hardly believe it myself!’ laughed Celine. ‘But now I know what a truly good man is like. Dan is that, too, of course. Perhaps that’s why I thought I was in love with him. I’ve been hurt so much, Helen. I’ve always chosen rotters before and—well, they put sex on the top of their agenda, with caring and consideration nowhere to be seen. I’ve come to my senses. John, well, he’s been married and widowed and is much older than me, but he adores me and thinks I’m wonderful even though I don’t deserve him…’
Helen listened attentively while Celine described her fiancé in detail. ‘He sounds perfect for you,’ she said warmly, her hand closing over Celine’s.
‘Dan said you were fantastic,
’ Celine declared. ‘And he’s right. Thank you for listening, for not showing me the door. It’s meant a lot to me.’ She smiled. ‘I’d better be going. Get out of your way—’
‘No. Stay. Let him see that there’s no ill feeling between us,’ Helen suggested.
The two women hugged and Helen led the tearful Celine back into the kitchen. Dan had returned. He was sitting on the sofa with both babies in his arms, an adoring public eagerly listening to his reports on the floods.
Every time he looked down at the twins his face became suffused with adoration. Their tiny hands had captured his fingers, gripping tightly and making him a willing prisoner.
Helen felt a huge whoosh of emotion flood through her as she watched the tableau: her beloved babies, her darling husband.
Dan saw her, smiled at Celine and offered Helen a more bone-melting smile, his tar-black eyes melting in an invitation she couldn’t resist. Slipping into the space beside him and taking Kate in her arms, she snuggled up in the circle of Dan’s arm.
Home with my loved ones, she thought. How wonderful.
‘Everything all right, darling?’ he asked softly.
‘Perfect,’ she husked.
And didn’t care when his tender kiss brought a chorus of ‘ooh!’s from the laughing neighbours all around them. She was deeply proud of her brave and loyally steadfast husband. And she didn’t care who knew it.
‘Don’t cry, darling.’
Dan dabbed at Helen’s eyes tenderly with his handkerchief.
‘It’s…they’re so little—’
‘They’re almost five, sweetheart. And look how excited they are to be at school!’ he soothed.
‘I know.’ She got a hold of her emotions and watched Kate and Mark playing with their friends in the village school field, just before the start of the autumn term. ‘I’m being silly. I’ll miss them so much.’
‘They break you in gently,’ Dan said in amusement. ‘Mornings only for a while. So kind of them to think of the parents, isn’t it?’
She laughed. ‘Idiot!’
Fondly they stood with the other parents who were leaning over the fence, watching their children enjoying the warm September sunshine. Because the village was a close-knit community, everyone knew everyone else, and Helen knew that the twins wouldn’t find it hard to settle.
Kate was tall for her age; delicate-boned and foal-like, with long dark hair and a lively manner. The village ballet class had already captured Kate’s heart and the little girl was beautiful and graceful to watch as she practised in the hall at home.
Mark had Dan’s strength and dependability. With his dark, wavy hair, he now had coal-black eyes and a ready smile, and women of all ages found themselves smiling at him. But she knew he wouldn’t be a heartbreaker. Mark was too like his father for that. He’d treat women with kindness and courtesy, adoring them but never hurting them.
‘I love them so much,’ Helen said softly.
‘Me, too. And I adore you.’ Dan kissed her. ‘So, Mrs Shaw,’ he murmured, his eyes pooling deliciously, ‘we have the morning to ourselves. Any ideas how we might fill it?’
‘I have a load of washing and you must surely have work to do,’ she said, with a look of mock innocence.
‘Washing. Hmm.’ He looked her up and down. ‘I think we could both do with a long, sensual bath.’
Helen ignored the fact that they’d both had a shower that morning. ‘With drawn curtains and candles. Chocolates. Music—’
‘Bye, Kate!’ Dan yelled. ‘Bye, Mark!’
The twins whirled around, their little faces bright with happiness. They both hurtled to the fence and Dan and Helen leaned over for their kisses.
‘Have a lovely time,’ she said to them both.
‘We will!’ they cried in glee and shot off.
‘And so will we,’ Dan murmured. ‘Trust me.’
‘Implicitly,’ she whispered. ‘Implicitly.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8311-8
FOR THE BABIES’ SAKES
First North American Publication 2002.
Copyright © 2002 by Sara Wood.
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