The Determined Husband

by Lee Wilkinson

  The experience was shattering, mind-blowing, terrifying in its intensity.

  She cried out his name and, as though he understood exactly what she was feeling, he answered thickly, ‘Yes, I know, my love. I know.’

  As their breathing and pulse-rate gradually returned to normal, he reached to pull the quilt over them. Within seconds, held securely in his arms, she was asleep.

  Towards dawn, when she was warm and relaxed, her cheek resting just above his heart, he kissed her into wakefulness and made love to her again.

  This time his lovemaking was slower and more contented, making a commitment rather than a statement.

  What it lacked in fiery passion it made up for with a deep tenderness. He found ways then to tell her without words how beautiful she was, how rare and precious, how much pleasure she gave him.

  When it was over and she was lying in his arms, his chin on her hair, one hand cupping her breast, his languorous thoughts drifting ahead, he asked, ‘Where would you like to live?’

  ‘Live?’ she echoed as though emerging from a trance into the real world.

  ‘I presume you won’t want to stay in the Penthouse, so I thought I’d let Rothwell have it as a kind of consolation prize… That is, if he still wants it.’

  He felt her whole body stiffen and, with a sudden sharpness, he asked, ‘You can’t still mean to go back to him?’

  She pulled herself out of his arms and struggled to sit up. ‘I have to.’ Though her voice held anguish, it also held a determination that frightened him.

  ‘After everything we’ve just shared?’ he demanded harshly.

  ‘I told you that I’ll never leave Martin while he still wants me.’

  Sitting beside her, he ran a hand through his tumbled black hair. No, he couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it.

  Through his teeth, he said, ‘I won’t let you go.’

  ‘You can’t stop me, unless you intend to try and keep me a prisoner indefinitely. And you know as well as I do that isn’t possible.’

  He changed tack. ‘Are you sure Rothwell will want you back after what’s happened?’

  Knowing how Martin had lied and cheated to get her, Sera had no doubt. ‘Yes, I’m sure. As you said yourself he’s obsessed with me.’

  ‘No one can be responsible for someone else’s obsession. Then roughly he said, ‘Damn it, Sera, if you hold yourself responsible for his obsession, you’ll have to hold yourself responsible for mine.’

  She half shook her head. ‘I don’t hold myself responsible for any man’s obsession. It’s not that.’

  ‘Then, what is it? Surely spending the night in my bed has altered things. When he knows—’

  ‘For his sake, I hope he won’t have to know anything,’ she broke in a shade wildly. ‘If you take me back before he misses me…’

  ‘I’ll never willingly take you back… And if you go back and don’t tell him, I may have to.’ Though it was mildly worded, it was undoubtedly a threat.

  ‘But that will only mean hurting him for nothing… It won’t make any difference.’

  ‘I can’t believe that spending the night in my bed won’t have made some difference.’

  ‘It’s made everything a great deal more difficult, but it hasn’t altered anything. Martin’s still in a wheelchair, and I’m certain he still wants me.’

  ‘Just because he wants you it doesn’t mean you have to go.’

  Her despair evident, she cried. ‘But how can I leave him when he’s crippled? I’d never have another happy minute. It would be on my conscience until the day I died.’

  ‘But he won’t be crippled, you said so yourself.’

  ‘His doctors think he’ll be all right, but nothing’s certain. They may be wrong. He may have more problems in store than they know.’

  ‘The fact that he may have problems in store isn’t a good enough reason to make you marry a man you don’t love. You’ve given him all these months, stood by him through the worst. Now it’s time you thought of yourself…’

  Seeing by her set face that his words were having no effect, Keir seized her hands in a painful grip. ‘Listen to me, Sera, it isn’t as though the accident was your fault.’

  He watched every trace of colour drain from her face leaving it like alabaster in the moonlight.

  ‘But that’s just it…’ her words held a world of despair ‘…it was my fault. I’m the one responsible for putting him in that wheelchair, the one who’s caused him all these months of pain and suffering… Now do you see why I can’t leave him?’

  Completely overwrought, she burst into tears.

  Kier took her in his arms, cradling her head against his muscular chest. ‘Don’t cry, my love, don’t cry.’

  Rocking her, one hand moving soothingly up and down her spine, he murmured little disjointed words of comfort while he stared blindly over her head.

  Of course. He should have seen it coming. The fact that she thought herself to blame made sense of her determination to stay with Rothwell, sense of her guilty need to sacrifice herself…

  When the storm of emotion was over and she’d cried herself out, he reached for the box of tissues on the cabinet and mopped her up as though she was a child.

  Then, settling her more comfortably across his lap, he kissed her blotched face and suggested quietly, ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me all about it.’

  She gave a little hiccuping sob. ‘There’s not a lot to tell.’

  ‘Let me hear what there is.’ When still she hesitated, he probed, ‘What makes you think it was your fault?’

  ‘Because I was driving.’

  Jolted, he asked, ‘Why were you driving?’

  ‘Martin wanted me to. He told me he’d bought the car as a wedding present for me and he insisted that I should try it out… Knowing I was going to break the engagement, I felt terrible about it. But I couldn’t say anything because Cheryl was there.’

  ‘Did she go with you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sera’s voice was scarcely above a whisper.

  Against his chest her body felt limp and boneless, a dead weight of despair. Keir’s arms tightened round her. ‘Go on, my love.’

  ‘I didn’t want to drive. I was on edge and nervous because I’d intended to give him back his ring and not go to Pine Cove, but everything had gone wrong and I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Martin alone…’

  ‘So what happened exactly?’

  ‘We were almost there. We’d left the highway and were heading for the coast when I lost control on a sharp bend…’

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘We veered off the road and hit a tree. The car turned over and rolled down an embankment…’

  ‘What happened to Cheryl?’

  ‘She was sitting in the back and escaped with minor cuts and bruises, thank God… When I regained consciousness she came to see me in the hospital and told me about Martin.’

  ‘How long were you unconscious?’

  Sera put a hand to her head. ‘Almost five weeks… And even when I did wake up my mind was confused.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘When I first came to, I felt convinced that I’d given Martin back his ring.’

  Keir frowned. ‘What makes you so sure you hadn’t?’

  ‘Because I was still wearing it. The hospital had taped over it.’

  ‘Yet you seem to remember the accident clearly?’

  ‘No. I don’t remember it at all. Cheryl told me what had happened… The last thing I can recall is driving along the highway…’

  Her voice was leaden with weariness and despair, her swollen eyelids almost closed.

  He slid down the bed, taking her with him and, pillowing her head on his shoulder, cradled her while her breathing settled once more into the evenness of sleep…

  Sera’s brain stirred into life slowly, unwillingly. Lying with her eyes closed, she tried to sink back into blessed oblivion, but the waking process had begun and she couldn’t stop it.

  Though her thoughts
were muddled and disjointed, one part of her mind was already aware that she didn’t want to have to face whatever the coming day held…

  But that kind of feeling was nothing new, it had been part of her life for a long time now.

  As her brain cleared somewhat, she realized it must be quite early. Everything was quiet and still, both inside and out.

  There was no movement, none of the usual sounds. No hum of air-conditioning, no faint rumble of traffic on Fifth Avenue, no noise of Manhattan stirring into life.

  It took a few seconds more before she remembered that she wasn’t in Manhattan; they had come down to Pine Cove for Martin’s birthday. He was having a party…

  Had had a party… And Keir had turned up…

  He’d taken her to an old farmhouse, had carried her up the moonlit stairs and, in an austere, white-walled bedroom, had made love to her…

  But surely it was just a dream? She’d dreamt of him making love to her so many times…

  No, this was no dream. The memories were too vivid, too real to be only a dream…

  And her own body confirmed that conclusion. Though tender in places, it was eminently content and satisfied. It was her mind that was in turmoil.

  She sat up with a jerk in the big, double bed, making her head spin sickeningly. It was broad daylight and the space beside her was empty, though the pillow next to hers bore the imprint of Keir’s head.

  Her heart thumping wildly, she glanced towards the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar and there wasn’t a sound.

  Perhaps he was in the other bathroom, or downstairs making breakfast?

  His clothes had vanished, she noticed, but hers were lying neatly over a chair. Her cheeks grew hot as she recalled with what ease he’d stripped them from her.

  But gone was all the singing happiness and joy she’d felt then, the overwhelming delight of being in his arms once more.

  All she could feel now was a fierce and futile resentment towards Keir for deliberately seducing her in spite of knowing how hard she was striving to be loyal to Martin.

  But, after a moment or two, an ingrained honesty insisted that she couldn’t lay all the blame at his door. He’d said he wouldn’t use force and she’d believed him implicitly. If she’d said no, and meant it, it would never have happened.

  He hadn’t won the battle. It was her inability to hold out against him that had lost it.

  She felt a burning shame, a fierce self-loathing, a swingeing contempt for her own weakness.

  But it was too late for regrets.

  What would Keir do now? Would he be willing to take her straight back to Pine Cove?

  He’d remarked that she probably wouldn’t be missed until lunch-time… So if he was still in the softer mood her tears had engendered the previous night, there might be a slim chance of getting back without Martin knowing, or ever having to know…

  She glanced at her watch and was shocked to find it was almost eleven-thirty. No, surely it couldn’t be that late?

  But the curtains hadn’t been drawn the previous night and, through the dormer window, she could see that the sun was already riding high in the cloudless blue sky.

  As she pushed back the bedclothes, the sight of her bare hand reminded her that Keir had removed her ring. Weighed down by a leaden sense of inevitability, she reached for it and slid it on again.

  Then, regaining her sense of urgency, she hurried into the bathroom and showered and cleaned her teeth as quickly as possible, before dragging a brush through her long hair.

  Leaving the silky mass loose around her shoulders, she pulled on her clothes and, having retrieved the silver chain, put it on beneath her shirt and went swiftly down the stairs.

  In the kitchen, a glass jug of coffee was keeping hot, but there was no sign of Keir, and the house had a deserted, empty feel to it.

  A hasty tour of the place confirmed that it was indeed empty, but one of the bedrooms, furnished only with only a chest of drawers and a hanging rail, contained several changes of his clothes.

  In the adjoining bathroom, damp towels, the lingering scent of shower gel and drops of water on the patterned glass of the shower cubicle showed that it had been in use not too long before.

  It was a lovely day. Perhaps he was out on the veranda, or in the garden?

  Running downstairs again, she pulled open the back door and looked out. There was no one on the porch apart from a sleek black cat with eyes like green glass, who was sitting on the sunny slats blinking drowsily.

  Apparently quite at home, he rose to his feet and stretched, stiff-legged and straight-tailed, before coming to wind invitingly round her ankles.

  ‘Well, hello.’ Stooping briefly to rub behind his velvet ears, Sera asked, ‘So who do you belong to? I’m sure you don’t live here.’

  As though in answer, he gave a miaow.

  The pleasantries over, she left him there and began to walk quickly round the veranda. She’d only gone a few paces when, with a little run, he came pattering after her, purring like a rusty saw.

  When she reached the front of the house there was still no trace of Keir and, with a little shock of surprise, she saw his car was no longer standing where he’d left it.

  She hadn’t heard it drive away, but then, her bedroom was on the opposite side of the house.

  With a queer, abandoned feeling, she wondered where he’d gone. What had been pressing enough to make him go off and leave her still sleeping?

  Then, more urgently, she wondered, how long he was likely to be. If he didn’t return soon she would lose any chance of getting back to Pine Cove before she was missed.

  Just as the worrying thought crossed her mind, she heard the sound of an approaching car and, a few seconds later, the white Mercedes appeared from behind the screen of trees and pulled into the drive.

  It was covered with dust, she noted abstractedly as the door swung open and Keir climbed out.

  Dressed in smart but casual trousers and a blue shirt open at the neck, he looked fit and virile and heartbreakingly handsome.

  Remembering everything that had taken place the previous night, Sera’s cheeks grew hot and, despite all the questions buzzing around in her head, she found herself with nothing to say.

  ‘Good morning.’ Though he spoke pleasantly, he could have been greeting a total stranger, and his dark blue eyes held a look that she could only describe as impersonal.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this cool detachment and, somehow, it threw her.

  As the cat left her side to greet him, he added, ‘I see you’ve made friends with Pyewacket.’

  Pulling herself together with an effort, she asked, ‘Then, he is yours?’

  ‘No, he’s just visiting. He lives at Munty’s Farm.’ Reaching into the car, Keir produced a brown paper bag of provisions. ‘Now, how about some lunch?’

  Taking a deep breath, she said without preamble, ‘I haven’t time for lunch. I need to get back.’

  With studied care, Keir removed the keys from the ignition and put them into the pocket of his trousers. ‘All in good time. First I think we both need something to eat… And Pye will never forgive me if I don’t produce his usual saucer of cream.’

  The crackly bag under his arm, the cat at his heels, he turned to stroll in the direction of the kitchen.

  It seemed that things weren’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. Hurrying after him, Sera pointed out anxiously, ‘But if I don’t go soon Martin is sure to realize I’ve gone missing, and that will cause endless trouble.’

  ‘You’ve no need to worry,’ Keir said evenly. ‘Kathleen is very quick-witted. I’m sure she’ll find some way to stall him.’

  Putting the brown paper carrier on the kitchen table, he began to unpack it with unhurried precision… A newly baked loaf of bread, a carton of cream, a pack of eggs, some fresh oranges and grapefruit…

  ‘But what if he discovers from the maid that my bed hasn’t been slept in?’ Sera burst out in mounting agi
tation. ‘He knows I’ve no money and nowhere to go… Suppose he calls the police?’

  ‘I told you, you’ve no need to worry.’ Keir spoke with quiet authority. ‘I’ll deal with any problems that might arise.’

  He pulled out one of the barrel-backed wooden chairs. ‘Now, why don’t you sit down and relax?’

  The look on his face, even more than his words, made her realize that he had no intention of being rushed. If he did take her back it would be in his own good time, and on his terms.

  Seeing nothing else for it, she reluctantly took a seat. As soon as she was settled, Pyewacket jumped into her lap and, paddling with his front paws, arched his back and pushed his furry head beneath her chin while he waited for his saucer of cream.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KEIR poured out a saucer of cream for the cat and said, ‘Come on, Pye.’

  The command was scarcely necessary. As soon as the saucer was placed on the floor, the cat jumped down and began to lap with delicate greed. When all the cream was gone, with regal dignity he retired to the porch to wash his whiskers and make his toilet.

  Looking as though he had all the time in the world, Keir squeezed two glasses of fresh fruit juice and handed one to Sera.

  Though he made no comment, she knew he had noticed that Martin’s ring was back on her finger. Looking away from his level gaze, trying to appear composed, she said stiffly, ‘Thank you.’

  While she drank the juice, he put slices of ryebread in the toaster and whipped up a basin full of eggs.

  Though the toast was crisp and the scrambled eggs deliciously light and fluffy, her stomach tied in a knot at the nerve-racking delay, Sera had to force down every mouthful.

  They ate in silence and, when their plates were empty, Keir poured the coffee. While Sera fairly gulped hers, he drank his own at a leisurely pace that frayed her nerves even further.

  Finally, unable to sit still a moment longer, she jumped up and offered, ‘Shall I clear away?’

  ‘There’s no need. If I let Mrs Munty have the key she’ll come over and do it. She changes the bed, stocks the fridge, and generally takes care of the place for me, as she did for the previous owners.’