Lee Wilkinson

The Determined Husband


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life.

      When, her face glowing, she thanked him, he said with an odd kind of tenderness, ‘At the moment you’re easy to please, my love.’

      Hot, tired, and dusty, but completely happy, they were heading back to the subway when some jewellery being displayed by a street vendor caught Sera’s eye and she paused to take a second look.

      The item that had attracted her attention was a narrow silver ring with an unusual chased design.

      ‘Seen something you fancy?’ Keir queried, reaching for his wallet.

      If it had been anything but a ring, she might have told him. As it was…

      Flushing a little, she shook her head and made to move on.

      ‘How about this as a memento?’ As though he had second sight, he reached to pick up the very ring she’d been looking at. ‘Try it on.’

      When she hesitated, he took her left hand and slipped it on to her engagement finger. ‘That fits quite well.’

      Turning to the vendor, who was sporting dreadlocks and a plaited headband, he asked, ‘How much?’

      Moving a wad of gum from one side of his mouth to the other, the man weighed up Keir and, apparently deciding not to push it, suggested, ‘Twenty dollars?’

      Keir nodded and the money changed hands.

      As they walked away, Keir’s arm round Sera’s waist, he murmured, sotto voce, ‘It might be as well not to keep it on too long. It will probably turn your finger green.’

      Lifting her hand to look at it, she said, ‘I’ll chance that.’

      He gave her a squeeze. ‘One day, hopefully in the not too distant future, I’ll buy you something a great deal more expensive from Tiffany’s.’

      A feeling of pure joy and thankfulness filled her. Keir loved her and wanted to marry her.

      No matter what he bought her in the future, nothing could ever take the place of this ring and she would never be happier than she was at this moment…

      CHAPTER TWO

      IT WAS almost eleven o’clock when they reached the Brownstone and climbed the stairs. Sensing that he was about to leave her at her door and not wanting this magic day to end, Sera asked quickly, ‘Won’t you come in for a coffee?’

      Looking into eyes unconsciously pleading, he agreed, ‘So long as it’s a quick one. I’ll need an early start in the morning to make up for today.’

      She made two mugs of instant and they drank them sitting side by side on the couch that, with its brightly patterned duvet, was also a bed.

      As soon as the mugs were empty he rose to go and Sera accompanied him to the door.

      Until today, he had, intentionally it seemed, kept things very casual, a handclasp, a brotherly hug, a peck on the cheek.

      Now, when he bent his dark head, with innocent boldness, she lifted her lips for his kiss. After the briefest of hesitations, his mouth brushed hers.

      The lightest touch, but it proved to be as explosive as dropping a lighted match into a keg of gunpowder.

      Without conscious volition, her lips parted beneath that light pressure and, making a sound almost like a groan, he gathered her into his arms and began to kiss her deeply.

      Head whirling, she clung to him, while his hands started to move over her body, tracing her slim waist and the curve of her hip and buttock, before moving up to find the soft swell of her breast.

      When those skilful fingers began to tease the sensitive nipple, she was shaken by shudders of delight and the kind of fierce desire she had never dreamt existed.

      Knowing all about sex in theory, if not in fact, she had naively supposed that love and sex would go hand in hand to produce a mutual manageable pleasure. She had never visualized being swept away by such extremes of passion.

      When, with a sudden urgency, he began to undo the buttons of her dress and the front fastening of her bra, she would have helped him, but her hands were shaking too much.

      Tossing the garments aside, he stooped to nuzzle his face against her breasts, taking first one nipple into his mouth and then the other.

      The pleasure was so pure, so exquisite, that she thought she could stand no more when, kneeling at her feet, he began to ease off her dainty briefs, kissing his way down her flat belly until he reached the tangle of black silky curls.

      A kind of sensual overload made her give a little gasping cry.

      Getting to his feet, he said thickly, ‘It’s all right, my love. It’s all right.’

      Suddenly desperately afraid he was going to walk away and leave her, she threw her arms around his neck and, her mouth finding his and clinging to it, pressed herself against him.

      For a split second he seemed to hold back. Then, to her utmost relief, he began to kiss her again. After a moment he stooped and, lifting her effortlessly in his arms, carried her back to the couch and laid her down on top of the duvet.

      Her heart pounding, her mouth dry, she watched him strip off his own clothes and, when he came to her, she welcomed him with open arms.

      In spite of his own urgency, he was a gentle, considerate lover, skilful and generous. He made her first experience of physical love a beautiful experience, one she knew she would always remember with wonder and delight.

      When his dark head lay heavy on her breast, stroking his curly hair, she was filled with such love and tenderness, such joy, that, unable to contain so much emotion, her heart found an outlet in tears.

      Her mood of ecstasy was so all-embracing that it had never occurred to her that Keir might not feel the same.

      It took her completely by surprise when, lifting himself away, he said in a queer, shaken voice, ‘I’m sorry. I never meant this to happen, believe me…’ Then sharply, ‘Did I hurt you?’

      ‘No, of course not.’ She smiled at him tremulously.

      ‘Then, why are you crying?’

      ‘I’m just so happy. Please tell me you are. I couldn’t bear it if you were disappointed.’

      ‘Of course I’m happy.’ He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, before saying soberly, ‘I just hope to goodness I can keep things that way.’

      At that moment, still euphoric, she could think of no reason why they shouldn’t both be happy for the rest of their lives.

      Swinging his feet to the floor, he sat on the edge of the couch, his dark head bent as though in thought.

      She was admiring the elegant line of his spine, the clear, healthy skin, the width of his shoulders, when something about the tenseness of his neck muscles made her ask. ‘Is something wrong?’

      ‘I’m a damned fool.’ Swinging round to face her, he added with sudden violence, ‘You were a virgin…’

      ‘That’s true.’ Her lovely, humorous, self-derisive smile flashed out. ‘But being a virgin isn’t a crime. And I didn’t want to stay a virgin for ever.’

      Heavily, without hope, he queried, ‘I take it you’re not protected?’

      ‘As a matter of fact, I am.’ Smiling a little at his astonished face, she said, ‘My doctor suggested I went on the pill for a minor hormone imbalance.’

      She heard his sigh of unutterable relief.

      Gently, she asked, ‘Would it have mattered so very much if I hadn’t been?’

      ‘Yes, it would,’ he answered shortly.

      Sera was dismayed. ‘Then, you don’t like children?’

      ‘Of course I like children. But this is no time to be