Savage Obsession

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by Diana Hamilton


  An imperious rap on the door heralded the ar­rival of a nurse, ignoring the 'Do Not Disturb' notice which was for the benefit of visitors only.

  'Has Baby been fed, Mrs Savage?' she asked briskly, and, at Beth's bemused nod, whisked him out of his comfortable nest. 'Then it's time he was changed, isn't it? You only had to press that bell.'

  Watching the starched, retreating back, Beth shook her head bemusedly. Was she being accused of being an uncaring mother? She rather thought she was! But, instead of being justifiably in­dignant, she curved her mouth in a soft smile. Already she loved her tiny son more than life. But she loved his father even more, and it was be­ginning to make sense, some of it…

  Had everyone been wrong about his tem­pestuous affair with the gorgeous redhead?

  'Explain,' she commanded, drawing away from the arms which were still holding her so close.

  'I'll have to, won't I?' His eyes gleamed with devilry. 'But all I can really take in is the fact that, after all the traumas, you love me.' His lips took hers, but gently, savouring her, the hint of tightly leashed, underlying passion making her head spin. And long, delicious minutes later, he cradled her head against his shoulder and told her, 'To go back years, our family have always known the Halls. Zanna's father and mine were at the same schools together. She was always a minx—lovely, granted, but totally uncontrollable. I found her more an­noying than intriguing. And then, five years or so ago, she came to stay with us. Her parents were sick of her behaviour, the way she went through men. There were always broken-hearted ex-men-friends littering their doorstep, apparently. What they didn't know, though, was that James had been secretly smitten for years. But I knew it, and maybe I was being over-protective, but I didn't want to see him go the way of all the others, so I took it on myself to squire the woman around, letting James think I was the current lover. Unfortunately…' He ran his hands over her back, his fingers burning through the thin silk of her nightgown, making her melt against him. 'Everyone else believed it, too,' he continued. 'It was the most misguided thing I'd ever done in my life. It caused a rift between us, James and me, and it's only recently been healed. At the time, I believed I'd done the right thing, especially when James, who had gone to work on a project in France, married Lisa. Zanna was still hanging around and, to be fair, she did make herself useful, acting as my hostess when I needed her—in between flitting hither and thither, doing her own thing. Crunch time came when she told me she'd visited James and Lisa—she actually had the gall to tell me she'd fallen in love with him, that they'd had an affair, practically under Lisa's nose. Needless to say, I threw her out, told her never to darken my doorstep again, et cetera. I think the whole village believed the boot was well and truly on the other foot, that she'd given me my marching orders. Everyone, all of a sudden, became re­markably sympathetic!'

  'She's hateful!' Beth exploded hotly.

  Charles said drily, 'She can be. But I think she's changed. She'll always be headstrong, always hog the limelight, but she's a good mother—and that surprised me—and she and James love each other. If he can handle her temperament, they'll be OK.'

  'So James really is Harry's father,' Beth whis­pered, hardly able to believe that at last everything was beginning to fall into place. 'And you thought I knew that all along, and wouldn't discuss it when you and she invited me to. I just walked out. You and Zanna must have thought me a prize bitch.'

  'Never that, my love.' He smiled into her troubled eyes, lifted her hands and kissed both palms with a lingering tenderness that made her want to weep with the depth and the beauty of her love for him. 'I believed you were troubled, and hurt—that seeing young Harry had brought back all you had missed out on. And when you went I was determined to get you back. I knew my life wouldn't be worth living without you.'

  'Then what were you doing with her in France?' Beth, with an effort, stopped herself from melting against him and gave him an angular look, and he shook his head, lifting his eyes.

  'Patience, woman. I'm trying to tell you. We were going to find James. But the first I knew of Harry's existence was when Zanna turned up at South Park with him that day. She was putting a brave face on it—trying to be her old, flamboyant self—but boy was she worried underneath. She told me that Harry was my nephew and that, having heard of Lisa's untimely death, she needed to contact him but had no idea where he was. Harry had a right to get to know his father, and James, now free, might still care enough for her to marry her. She still loved him. Which, quite frankly, knowing her track record, I could hardly credit. Anyway—' he shrugged wide shoulders '—there was no doubt that the boy was James's; the family likeness was too strong to overlook. So I promised I'd do what I could. I knew he was still working with the same firm of civil engineers in France and managed to track him down to a small town in the south. But first I had to find you. As you know, I learned where you were from Allie, phoned James to warn him we were arriving—and when—and stopped off at Boulogne, much to Zanna's annoyance, be­cause, having arranged that meeting with James, she hated the thought of delay.

  'I found you and intended to talk things through with you, ask you to give me the opportunity to try again. But, as you know again, things got out of hand and the day I'd given myself to persuade you was over. But I knew where you were, knew you would stay put with that William guy, and what with helping to sort things out between James and Zanna, sorting out a few pressing business affairs of my own to give me the time to spend with you, hiring that cottage and stocking it, it was weeks before I could come for you again—knowing I'd have enough time, hopefully, to persuade you to my point of view.'

  'Which is?' Beth prompted, resolutely pushing the misery of the last year out of her head, knowing that the present and the future she had with this one man was the only thing that mattered.

  'To teach you to love me,' he answered simply. 'I'd loved you almost from the moment you came to South Park as my temporary housekeeper. You were so warm, so natural, so caring. I couldn't be­lieve my good fortune when you agreed to marry me.'

  'You didn't tell me you loved me,' Beth accused, but softly. She recalled how she'd ached to hear him say those words, but that was all behind her now, and nothing mattered because she knew the truth.

  The surprise in his eyes made her want to shake him for being so cussedly male, but she kissed him instead when he told her, 'I showed you, didn't I? Every time I held you in my arms I showed you how much I loved you. And when I get you home, after a suitable interval for your recovery, of course, I'll show you again, and again…' He gathered her slowly into his arms and brushed his mouth against hers, invoking a response she should have been too exhausted to give, all things considered, she thought dizzily, and she twined her arms around his neck, intent on showing him how exhausted she was not, when he lifted his head and said,

  'And before you ask, Zanna and James are back in England to break the news of their marriage to Lisa's parents. James thought it politic to go on ahead, with Harry, to break the ice as it were. Zanna came to South Park to beg a bed for the night. Even now she's on her way up north to join the others.'

  'Blow Zanna!' Beth muttered hoarsely, pulling his head down to hers, and things were starting to get out of hand when the starchy nurse—so dif­ferent from the fluttery blonde from the night before—announced stiffly,

  'Baby thinks he needs feeding again, I do be­lieve. He's been bathed and changed and weighed and—'

  'Thank you.' Charles was on his feet, taking his wide-eyed, grumbling son into the crook of his arm, ushering the nurse on her way.

  He drew Beth to her feet, his other arm around her, supporting and cherishing her, holding her close, and his voice was deep with emotion as he murmured, 'Can you feel it, Beth? The love that surrounds us? I swear there's enough of it here, in this room, to make the world go round for a thousand years.'

  And she looked deep into those hard gunfighter's eyes, and saw love, and silently pledged her love to him for the rest of her life. And he unders
tood—he read the message that was too deep to put into words and brushed his lips across hers as she took the protesting infant into her arms, settled him to her breast and held out her free hand to her husband, her wonderful, tough, soft-centred, exas­perating Charles. And her smile was glorious.

 

 

 


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