She noticed how deathly pale he had become. “You must really love me to go through this for me.”
“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” he admitted.
“It’ll be all over before you know it.”
“I bet that’s what the captain of the Titanic said to his crew, and look what happened there.”
She pried his hand from the armrest and entwined his fingers with hers. “Try to focus on the time we’ll have when we get there. There’ll be so much for us to see. You know how much you’ve been looking forward to seeing Hadrian’s Wall. Think on that and it’ll take your mind off things.”
He took her advice. She was right of course there would be a lot of things to see. Hadrian’s Wall was merely one of them. London alone had Trafalgar Square, Big Ben, and Hyde Park. They would all add a great deal to the holiday, especially since he would be experiencing them with Christy on his arm. What more could a man want than that?
This holiday was just what they both needed. She needed it to take her mind off the disappointment of never having a baby, and he needed it so he could get away from the long hours he had been putting into the charter business. Now that it was ticking over successfully he could afford to spend time with his beautiful wife and get to know her better. There was still so much about her that was a mystery to him, which he was determined to unravel before the eight weeks were up, and he had no doubt he would be even more in love with her when he had.
♥
Christy watched her man as he slept. She was glad that he had drifted off as it would give him a break from his fear of flying. Unless he was dreaming about the plane going down that was. But he looked so peaceful she doubted anything of that nature was going through his mind.
Settling back in her seat she looked out the window. The Pacific Ocean appeared so tranquil way down there. It seemed ludicrous that only a few short months ago she had tried to end her life in that very same sea. If she had she would have missed out on that beautiful man dozing beside her, and some other lucky woman would have ended up with him. Sure, she might only live for a few more years anyway, but with him beside her it would be the happiest years of her life, and she would die in the knowledge that she had experienced the kind of relationship most women could only dream about.
She had loved Mike, she truly had. He had been a good man, and easy to live with. But she hadn’t felt the same intensity of feeling for him that she did for Kent. The charter boat skipper had captured her heart. He had worked his way into its every nook and cranny, and even though he completely owned her she felt no fear. It was as if it had been ordained from the start. She belonged to him, and she cared not one iota what any feminist may have to say about that, because they had never been loved by Kent London.
They had hit a patch of turbulence, and as the plane gave a little jump she turned to look at her man. He was still sleeping and so she took this opportunity to study his face closely. He was a well tanned man from his years spent out on the sea, and that combined with the strong jaw line and perfectly formed nose put him into a class of his own.
As he gave a little snort and briefly opened his eyes before letting them slide shut again she smiled. It was sweet how much like a boy he looked when he was sleeping. It was the only time she ever saw him looking even remotely vulnerable. He was such a together person. Always in total control he appeared to handle every situation thrown at him with ease. All except flying of course, and when he had explained to her his terrifying experience as a territorial she couldn’t say she blamed him.
It was his easy going manner that set him apart from other men however, and he was the only man she had ever met who could put a woman at her ease within minutes of meeting him. She had been at many social events since their wedding where women who had never met him before would be hanging off every word he had to say. The same women who only minutes before she had seen in bored conversation with some other man would be eating out of Kent’s hand in less time than it would take her to apply her lipstick.
It wasn’t that he was manipulative or anything. He didn’t try to exploit any gift of the gab he might have, he was just himself. He grew on you by degrees but in very rapid fashion, and he had grown on Christy until she was totally mesmerized by him. She had heard it said that the in love faze wore of at about the two year stage of a relationship, but she found it impossible to believe it would ever wear off for her. She was in too deep. She had handed her heart over to Kent and now it was his forever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kent breathed a sigh of relief as the wheels touched down and the plane taxied along the runway, they had arrived at Heathrow at last and good old Terra Firma.
“Well that was a flight and a half,” he said to Christy as they descended to the tarmac. “Give me the sea over the air any time.”
“Perhaps next time you’ll bring me here by cruise ship,” she joked.
“Now you’re talking my language,” he said. “It might take longer but it’d be a whole lot less scary. Those pockets of turbulence we struck almost had me ready to have the last rights read over me.”
Christy led him across the runway to the airport. “We’ll get ourselves checked through and then see if we can get ourselves a taxi,” she said. “My friend Megan isn’t too far away. I can’t wait to see her.”
Kent stared out the window as the taxi sped along. He couldn’t believe he was on the other side of the world from little New Zealand. A whole different world awaited him here and with Christy by his side he was eager to explore it.
“So tell me a bit about this friend of yours.”
“You’ll like her,” Christy promised, then looked at him in mock consternation. “But don’t you go liking her too much,” she warned, “she’s very good-looking.”
“I’m sure she’s not a patch on you.”
“I’m hoping you still think that after you’ve met her.”
Megan certainly was a looker. All through high school the competition between the two girls had been fierce, despite the fact they had been friends. The problem being they had always been attracted to the same boys and that had led to a few unhappy spats between the pair, Christy’s boyfriend Ryan Cooper being the worst of them. Ryan had been Christy’s boyfriend until Megan had made a big play for him and snatched him away from Christy. The two girls hadn’t spoken again until Megan and Ryan broke up eighteen months later and Megan had asked for Christy’s forgiveness. They remained friends until Megan had left to live in England four years ago with her husband Bruce.
“It’ll be good catching up with her.” She poked a finger in his ribs. “I warn you now, she’s a terrible flirt, and when she sees you she’s going to pull out all the stops.”
“I haven’t got eyes for anyone but that gorgeous little brunette who wears my ring,” he insisted. “So she won’t get much of a reaction out of me.”
She squeezed his forearm to let him know she appreciated his response. “She’s still going to flip over you when she sees you so don’t say you haven’t been warned.”
“Duly noted, so what else do need to know about this woman?”
“Five foot eight inches, long blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and a body to die for…need I go on?”
“No, I think I get the picture. She’s what’s commonly known as a ‘femme fatale.’
“You’ll like Bruce.”
“Who’s he?”
“Megan’s husband and he’s a lovely bloke. The two of you will get on like a house on fire.”
“Glad to hear it. I’d hate to get on the wrong side of a jealous husband.”
Christy laughed. “She’s left her boyfriend stealing days behind. Apart from a little harmless flirting there’ll be nothing to worry about.”
The taxi turned off onto a much quieter road.
“What’s the name of the village she lives in?”
“Datchet…apparently it’s a quaint little place, lots of old buildings and Elizabethan architecture and so on. You’ll love it.
”
Kent knew it would be in sharp contrast to what he was used to back home. The oldest building in New Zealand was the Kemp House at a mere one hundred and ninety years old. Here, you could stumble across something that even Shakespeare would have considered ancient.
“Wouldn’t mind visiting one of those mediaeval castles,” Kent said, enveloping one of Christy’s little hands in his big one. “I’ve always been a bit in awe of castles since I watched Ivanhoe on television as a kid.”
“You’ll get plenty of opportunity to see one over here.”
“I hope so.” He watched the scenery outside glide past as the car sped along. “The countryside around here is beautiful.”
“The Lake Districts take some beating,” she noted. “With a bit of luck we’ll get to spend some time there when we’ve moved on from Megan’s.”
For the first time since they had left home Christy’s condition came back to him. He had happily banished it from his thoughts these past few days, but for some reason it was suddenly making its ugly presence felt. And now he felt a gloom settle on him that he hadn’t felt for a long time.”
Christy must have noticed the change in his mood for she asked him if he was alright.
“Just a bit tired,” he said, not wanting to tell her the real reason and so put a dampener on her happy state. “Jetlag settling in I guess.”
“Maybe we can both catch a few hours sleep when we get to Megan’s.”
His eyes returned to the scenery outside. This could well be the last trip he ever got to go on with her. If that wretched leukemia came back at her she would be too sick to travel ever again, and that scenario made him sadder than he had been in a very long time.
Fear was never too far away from him these days. When he had agreed to marry her he hadn’t really thought things through. There hadn’t been time. The thought of her dying anytime soon hadn’t registered with him at the time, but it did now, and that possibility filled him with a dread that all but paralyzed him with its intensity.
The car passed a sign that stated Datchet was two miles on. They were nearly there, and Kent was glad of it. Meeting Megan and her husband would break him free of his melancholy.
The village of Datchet came into sight and Kent wasn’t disappointed. It certainly had its fair share of old buildings. He would enjoy strolling around looking at them with Christy. They both loved architecture, especially anything that predated the twentieth century.
“What a beautiful old house,” Christy said, as the taxi pulled up outside what Kent suspected was Megan’s place.
Kent paid the taxi driver before lugging their bags up the path to the front door. Christy had beaten him to it and was lustily banging the old brass knocker on the door.
“If you keep thumping away like that you liable to wake the dead,” Kent said, as he dumped several suitcases at his feet.
“Have to knock loud,” Christy insisted, “she’ll never hear us in a house this big otherwise.”
The door opened slightly and a young woman’s face peeped out. “Christy!” she squealed.
The door all the way and an elegant blonde stepped out. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow. We must have got our dates confused.” She threw her arms around Christy and peered over the top of her head at Kent.
Kent couldn’t help noticing how she brazenly took him in from top to toe, and the way she did it left him in no doubt she liked what she was seeing.
“So this must be Kent,” she said huskily, when she and Christy had broken their embrace. She held out a pale hand in greeting.
“Guilty as charged,” Kent said, giving her hand a quick shake before bending down to pick up the luggage.
“Come on in,” Megan said, taking Christy by the arm and leaving Kent to juggle the suitcases on his own.
He followed the two women through the door and down a long hallway to a flight of stairs. “Great,” he muttered to himself when his eyes rested on the narrow twisting stairwell, “how am I meant to lug this lot up there?”
Leaving a couple of suitcases at the bottom he negotiated the ancient structure behind the other two, carefully placing his feet on the well worn treads so as to avoid a disastrous tumble.
“Oh what a beautiful room,” Christy’s voice floated down the stairs to greet him. “Kent…you have to see this.”
“I’m coming…I’m coming,” he mumbled irritably, as one of the suitcases snagged on a railing and almost sent him sprawling.
“You have such a beautiful house,” Christy said sincerely. “You can just feel the history. Any idea how old it is?”
“A little under four hundred years old,” Megan said proudly. “I’m insisting that I get to keep it when the divorce settlement is drawn up.”
Christy abandoned her adoration of the room. “Divorce…? Megan you never told me you and Bruce had separated.”
“I didn’t want to put you off coming to stay. Besides, we only separated a little over five weeks ago.”
“We’ve come at a bad time.” Christy looked at her friend with concern. “Perhaps it would be better if we stayed somewhere else.”
“Nonsense, I won’t hear of it. I’m glad you’re here.” She directed her eyes away from her friend and rested them on Ken as he puffed his way through the door with the bags. “It’s given me just the lift I needed. I know we’re all going to get along famously.”
Kent let the luggage tumble to the floor. “I’ll just go down and get the other two,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.
As Kent trudged wearily down the dimly lit stairs he could hear the muffled tones of the two women in the bedroom. He wondered if they were discussing him. Christy must have picked up on the way her friend was eyeing him up. It had been blatantly obvious. Surely she hadn’t missed the smoldering look Megan had given him a few seconds ago? But then Megan had made sure she had her back to Christy he recalled, so there was no way she could have.
Christy had warned him that Megan was a flirt, but the looks and innuendo’s she was sending his way went well beyond harmless flirting. He had been around long enough to know when a woman was giving him the come on, and she was definitely doing that. It wasn’t difficult to see how Christy had lost her first boyfriend to Megan all those years ago.
Grabbing the last of the suitcases he turned and began the tortuous climb back up to the bedroom. Megan was an incredibly good-looking woman Kent couldn’t deny that, and he had no doubt she was used to getting absolutely anything she set her heart on. He was determined not to be left alone with her at any time during the next few days he would be staying here.
“Megan was just saying we should all take a coach trip to Brighton once the jetlag’s worn off,” Christy said, as Kent stacked the last two cases beside the bed. “She says the waters warm enough at this time of the year to go swimming.”
Kent forced himself not to look at Megan. He knew what her plan was. He had come across women like her before and could guess what was going through her mind. “If it’s what you want to do, Sweetheart,” he said.
“I would like to spend a little time on the coast,” Christy continued.
But Kent wasn’t listening. His tired brain was dissecting Megan’s motives for the suggestion. It wasn’t difficult to figure out really. She was planning to give Kent an eyeful. A woman with her looks and sensational figure was a turn on for any man. But give him a good gawk at her in a skimpy wet bikini and his pulse was guaranteed to be sent into orbit.
He didn’t like where all this was heading. When he planned this holiday it was so he could spend some quality time with Christy, and at the same time take her mind off not being able to have a baby. But it was beginning to look like he would be spending a large part of the time fending off the amorous advances of a shameless hussy.
♥
Despite the jetlag Kent slept fitfully that night. Megan was going to give him trouble as sure as eggs were eggs. So how was he going to keep her at bay and at the same time keep the two women’
s friendship intact?
Rolling over onto his side he stared at the shaft of moonlight that lit up a section of the wall. Surely Christy had noticed her friend’s antics earlier in the day. After all, she had been burned by her once already. Admittedly, it was several years ago, but once bitten twice as shy as the old saying went. Christy must be on the lookout for that type of behavior from Megan.
Or maybe she didn’t want to be on the lookout for it? Maybe she didn’t want to believe that her friend would be so callous as to hurt her that badly twice? He feared it would break Christy’s heart if she found out, so how could he keep a lid on it all?
He must have drifted off eventually because he woke with a start to discover his wife giving him a gentle nudge.
“Hi ya, Stud-Muffin, how about a little early morning action?”
“Stud…what?”
“Stud-Muffin.”
He looked at the bedside clock. “You’ve got to be kidding me…it’s only six o’clock.”
“The early bird catches the worm, Sexpot.”
“Sexpot…where are you coming up with these names?”
“So how about it then, Cowboy?” she started to trail kisses down his bare chest. “A little early morning delight for my master?”
“So how come you’re so chipper? You should be suffering from the same jetlag I am.”
“Jetlag…me…never… I’m positively champing at the bit.” She made a noise like a horse.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a certifiable nut?”
“A coupla goon’s, but I dun plugged em see.”
He groaned. “Don’t start that gangster stuff on me again. Not this early in the morning.”
“Aw…where’s your sense of humor?”
“Still on the plane,” he answered tiredly. “And I don’t expect it to join me for another couple of days yet.”
“So you’re refusing to make love to your wife then?”
“I’m pooped, Christy, knackered, half asleep. There’s no way I’m up to a performance like that.”
All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love Page 11
