Modern Romance Collection February 2025, #1-4

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

T HREE DAYS LATER Maude stood in front of the little mirror in the cottage and stared at herself in the simple, gold silk shift dress. It was cut on the bias, hugging her breasts, hips and little bump, before flowing out into a gold swirl around her ankles. A beautiful dress. Her wedding dress.

She still found it hard to believe that she’d agreed to marry Dominic, especially considering her first thought when he’d asked her was an immediate no. And not because she had strong feelings about marriage itself—her grandparents admittedly hadn’t seemed all that happy in theirs, yet Polly and John clearly were—but because she didn’t want to feel bound to anyone. To be constrained by their rules and their expectations. She’d moved on from that when she’d moved out of her grandparents’ house, but it hadn’t been until she’d come to Darkfell that she’d felt truly free. She didn’t want to give that up, not for anyone.

But Dominic had been adamant that nothing would change between them and she believed him. He hadn’t given her a reason to doubt him since he’d decided to live here so why shouldn’t she?

It had still been a deal for him—he’d made no secret of that—and while she felt an odd pinch of hurt for absolutely no reason, mostly she found that reassuring. No feelings were involved, it was still a business decision, and that she was comfortable with.

Taking his name for the sake of legal protection for her and the baby had even sounded logical, and if it meant they could both carry on as they had, with him in her bed when she wanted it, why shouldn’t she?

It also took some of the pressure off when it came to explaining about the pregnancy. There would be questions, naturally, about how she came to marry such an infamous playboy, but at least she didn’t need to say that her baby was the result of a night spent with a stranger in the forest.

Speaking of which, the others need to know.

Yes, the Your Girl Friday team really did. She’d been cagey on their usual Zoom calls, and while she’d had a few assessing looks, no one had asked her outright what was going on. They respected her need for space, which she appreciated.

She’d tell them later, after the wedding maybe. They’d be unhappy she hadn’t let them know about either the baby or Dominic earlier, but too bad. It was her secret to keep for the time being.

Dominic, however, had insisted that Polly and John be told, and that the announcement should be made with her presence. She’d been reluctant, worrying a little about what the Harrises would think of her pregnancy and then her forthcoming marriage. But they hadn’t been judgemental. In fact, they’d been thrilled, Polly even going so far as to give both her and Dominic a hug.

She hadn’t expected that and it was relieving. It made her wonder why she’d been worried about it at all. Probably leftover anxiety from her grandparents’ judgemental upbringing.

Carefully, she picked up the length of sheer golden silk that was her veil, and put it on her head. She’d chosen the gown and veil from a website the day after she’d agreed to be Dominic’s wife and he’d had them shipped to Darkfell. He’d also asked her what she preferred in terms of a ceremony and, since she had no strong feelings about it, having never thought she’d ever marry, she’d only shrugged. He’d nodded and then asked her if she minded him organising it, which she didn’t. He’d surprise her, he’d said, which could have been a little worrying, but she felt oddly calm about letting him do it. He’d never do anything she wouldn’t want. She felt that in her bones.

Stepping out of the cottage, Maude was surprised to see a lit torch standing in the ground outside the front door, flaring in the sunshine. An arrow on the ground, formed of sticks, pointed in the direction of the forest, and a crown of woven leaves and flowers sat in the grass beside it.

A strange little feeling gripped her tight, though she couldn’t have said what it was, a wave of the strangest warmth. She found herself smiling as she went over to the arrow and picked up the crown. It was competently woven, the leaves fresh and green, the wildflowers bright. It was obviously for her.

Her throat felt tight for some reason and the warmth in her chest expanded. Dominic had done this and he’d put thought into it. He’d considered her, considered what was important to her, what she liked, and he’d made an effort. This marriage might be only a business deal, but he’d made it special.

Is marrying him really such a good idea?

Maude ignored both the thought and the tight feeling in her throat. She’d said she’d marry him and she would, and it wouldn’t change their arrangement. It was for the baby anyway, and the baby was far more important than her own feelings.

She put the crown of leaves and flowers on her head, over the veil, then turned in the direction of the arrow and walked into the forest. There were more torches and arrows, pointing the way, and she soon realised where she was being directed. It made the warmth inside her glow brighter.

She moved deeper into the trees, mindful of her dress, until she came to the little path that led to the forest waterfall and pool, because of course that was where he’d directed her.

Her special place. And since the day she’d agree to marry him, where she’d sat astride him, naked and free, and brought them both to the ultimate pleasure, it had become their special place.

She stepped out of the trees and into the clearing, her heart thumping, that strange, warm feeling moving through her, to find Dominic standing beside the pool, waiting for her. Another man stood there smiling, obviously a priest, and Polly and John were also there. Witnesses.

Not that she saw anyone but Dominic.

The autumn sun had blessed them today, shining down onto the clearing and onto him. Tall and powerful. He was dressed in black trousers and a simple black shirt, but on his head was also a crown of leaves. His black hair gleamed like spilled ink in the sunlight, the white stripe almost glowing amidst the green of the leaves. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and he didn’t smile.

But when he looked at her, she felt something inside her bloom.

This man, who hadn’t laughed at her when she’d told him about how connected she felt to the trees and to nature. Who’d accepted both her stubbornness and her passion, her fire and her wild spirit, and hadn’t punished her for any of it. Who hadn’t forced her to be anyone but herself. And who’d created this beautiful ceremony just for her, taking all the things that she found important, and turning them into the most perfect moment.

Everything about this was for her and so was he.

He was the god of the forest and she was his chosen queen.

She walked slowly over to him, her heart feeling somehow larger and fuller in her chest, the warm feeling flowing through her and almost bringing tears to her eyes, making her throat ache.

He reached out to her and clasped her hand, his fingers threading through hers. ‘Surprise,’ he murmured. ‘I hope this is adequate.’

She gripped his hand tightly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. ‘Adequate? It’s...perfect. Just perfect.’

His dark gaze roved over her hungrily. ‘And so are you.’

She flushed with pleasure then reached up to touch his crown. ‘Who made these?’

‘I did.’ He smiled then and it lit his face like the sun shining down on them. ‘It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.’

‘I love them.’ The warm feeling in her heart grew, putting down roots and sprouting new leaves.

‘Good.’ He gripped her hand tight. ‘Are you ready?’

Are you? You’re afraid.

No, she wasn’t. Not of him, not of this. And this powerful feeling growing inside her was nothing. Simple pleasure at how he’d made this day so special. It was nothing more than that.

It’s not and you know it.

But Maude ignored the thought, nodding at Dominic and then turning to face the priest.

It wasn’t a long ceremony, but, try as she might, she couldn’t ignore that feeling inside her as it grew and bloomed, wrapping strong roots around her heart and binding it tight.

When it was her turn to speak, the words were hoarse, and when it was time to exchange rings, she looked down to see her own ring was shaped as a circlet of oak leaves, in white gold.

Her vision wavered, tears filling her eyes unexpectedly. He’d thought of every detail. He’d made this special, this ceremony that was supposed to be only a business deal. This ceremony that was only about legal protection, nothing more.

Her heart thumped even harder and it was difficult to catch a breath.

The priest was saying words and then Dominic gave her another ring, his ring, and that too was a circlet of oak leaves. She pushed it onto his finger almost automatically, the roots around her heart tightening still further, choking her.

Then she found herself looking up at Dominic as the priest continued to speak. The sun was behind his head, throwing his face into shadow, but his eyes gleamed, and in them she could see the man she’d given herself to that night in the forest. The fierce, passionate man, behind his urbane and polished front.

The man you’ve fallen in love with.

The thought wound through her head, the roots in her heart piercing it right through. Roots wrapping around her bones, growing down into her soul. An unbreakable connection, a tether she’d never be free of.

Dominic bent his head and kissed her, the priest naming them husband and wife.

No, she wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t . She loved her friends and the forest, and her unborn child, but she didn’t want to be in love with a man. And most especially not a man like him. He gave, she couldn’t deny that, but he also demanded things in return. Her honesty, her passion, her time, her attention.

It wouldn’t matter if she hadn’t wanted to give him those things, but she had wanted to, so she did. Giving him small pieces of herself, not realising what was happening, not understanding what she was doing until it was too late.

Love had rooted itself so deep inside her she was never going to be able to cut it out.

Her fingers were cold, and Dominic must have felt them, because as he lifted his head, he frowned. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, concern in his eyes.

‘Oh, yes.’ She quickly pulled her hand from his and pasted on a smile. ‘I’m fine.’

She tried to ignore the feeling as she and Dominic received congratulations from Polly and John, before Dominic took her hand and led her back through the forest to the manor.

She didn’t speak the whole way, her throat tight, her chest hurting. She was acutely conscious of her hand in his, of the ring of oak leaves circling her finger, and, try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the feeling in her heart, strong and aching, binding itself with her soul.

Love had never been spoken of in her grandparents’ house. No one had ever said to her ‘I love you’. It was only ever ‘for your own good’ or ‘we only want what’s best for you’. Even Sonya hadn’t said those words to her, not even when her grandparents had taken her away from Earthsong. Her mother hadn’t even protested, leaving Maude to watch her walk away without a backwards look.

Once Maude had realised that they weren’t going back to Earthsong, that the ice cream had been only a pretext to get her into the car, she’d wept all the way to her grandparents’ house, an empty feeling in her heart. As if the most beautiful grove of trees had been growing there, but now they’d been cut down and the grove razed, the earth salted.

At her grandparents’ house, there had been no wild forests for her to find comfort in. No garden of flowers. No herbs. No trees or even plants. There had been only a concreted space for her grandfather to park his car and that was it. Living there had killed something in Maude’s soul.

She’d tried to make the best of it, since she’d had nowhere else to go, tried to be a good girl for her grandparents. School, with its playgrounds of concrete and metal, with timetables and bells, and rigid rules around behaviour, had been its own special hell. She’d tried there too, because her grandparents had given up their retirement to make sure she’d have a better start in life than what her mother could give her. They were doing it for her, they’d said.

Yet it had never felt as though they were doing it for her. It had felt as if she was a millstone around their necks that they’d had no choice but to deal with. And her mother, for all the freedom Sonya had given her, had made her feel that way too.

Maude had never been a child either her mother or her grandparents had wanted. She hadn’t been a child at all. What she’d been was a rope around their necks, dragging them down.

You’ll drag him down too.

Yes, she would. Eventually. He hadn’t chosen her because he’d wanted her. He’d chosen her out of necessity. For their baby’s sake. And knowing that really shouldn’t hurt, since the baby was more important than either her or Dominic’s feelings, and yet...

Maude fought to ignore the abruptly painful feeling in her heart as they came out of the forest and walked over the lawn to the manor. Dominic turned then, not making for the front door as she’d expected, but heading along the little brick path that led to the walled garden. And when she stepped through the stone doorway into it, the feeling inside her became even more painful, because a white silk pavilion had been erected near the pond in the middle, a table and chairs set out beneath it. On the table was food, drink, and the most perfect little wedding cake.

Maude stopped, her eyes suddenly full of tears.

He’s done all this for you and you don’t deserve it—not any of it.

Of course she didn’t. She’d saddled him with a life he’d never wanted and now couldn’t get out of.

She was the one tying him down. Not vice versa.

Dominic, slightly ahead of her and still holding her hand, turned. Then, obviously noticing the look on her face, frowned. ‘Maude? What is it?’

She let go of his hand. ‘I... I’m not feeling well.’ The lie rolled off her tongue so smoothly it was as if she’d been lying all her life.

His expression became concerned and he stepped closer. ‘You’re not? How so?’

‘Just a headache.’ She clasped her hands together so he wouldn’t seem them trembling. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘It isn’t nothing.’ He reached for her clasped hands and pulled them gently apart, the warmth of his skin against her numb fingertips. ‘Your fingers are cold.’ His frown deepened. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s nothing,’ she repeated and tried to pull her hands away.

Except he held onto them. ‘It’s something,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not a headache, is it?’

Maude tried to get a breath, tried to think of another lie, but the way he was looking at her now, she knew he’d never believe her. It was as if he could see right inside her head, read her mind, know all her thoughts.

‘I just...’ She jerked her hands out of his and stepped back from him, putting some distance between them. ‘What is this for?’

He made no effort to reach for her again, frowning. ‘This? What do you mean this?’

‘The ceremony. The crowns. The rings.’

His frown deepened. ‘I thought you would like it.’

‘But there’s no reason for it.’ Her heart ached and ached. She was ruining this, ruining this day he’d made perfect just for her, and she couldn’t stop herself. ‘It was only supposed to be a legal requirement. It didn’t need to be...special.’

‘It was for you,’ he said, searching her face as if for clues. ‘I thought you would appreciate it if we made it an occasion, and I thought it would be nice to have it in the forest with some things that were meaningful to you.’

You are ruining this by making a scene. Stop it.

Except she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t seem to stem the words that were pouring out of her mouth. ‘I didn’t ask you to do it for me. I didn’t ask you to make it special. And what about you? Why wasn’t there anything meaningful to you in there too? Why did it have to be all about me?’

Dominic stared at the woman in front of him, so startlingly beautiful in her golden gown and crowned with leaves.

His wood nymph. His wife.

He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but something had. Somehow, in the moment between when they’d said their vows and walked back to the manor, something had changed. Something had spooked this wild creature of his and he had no idea what it was.

He’d taken great pleasure in organising the ceremony, he had to admit. He’d put the kind of thought into it that he’d never put into anything but his business, and he wasn’t sure why, but he had. It had felt important to create something that Maude would like, since he was the one who’d suggested the idea of marriage in the first place, and for it to be special for her, because he didn’t want her to regret it.

When she’d stepped out of the forest, resplendent in gold, wearing the leaf crown he’d made, he’d felt the most acute pleasure that this beautiful, mysterious woman was now his. A pleasure that had only deepened when he’d put his ring on her finger, the possessive part of him roaring its satisfaction.

She was his wife now and she was pregnant with their child, and he would keep them, protect them, make sure nothing would hurt them.

He’d been looking forward to cutting the cake and eating the food Polly had prepared, and talking about their future and planning it together. Then, later, taking her to his bed in the manor for a change, and making her his wife in every way possible.

She’d looked a touch pale as they’d walked away from the pool and her fingers had been cold in his, it was true. But he hadn’t thought she’d suddenly and angrily demand to know why he’d made the ceremony so special, or why it was all about her.

There was something else going on here, he was sure.

He studied her face for a moment. ‘This isn’t about the wedding, is it? Something’s upset you.’

She was pale in the sun, all the warmth leached from her brown eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said she was afraid, though he couldn’t think what she’d be afraid of. He’d promised not to sell Darkfell, and he’d also told her that things wouldn’t change between them, so what else was it?

‘You don’t love me, do you?’ she asked suddenly.

Frowning at the abrupt question, he reached out and grabbed her, his hands on her silken hips, pulling her close, as if that would make understanding what this was about easier. ‘No. Love was never going to be a part of this, I already told you that.’

Despite the wild look in her eyes, her body was already softening against his, moulding itself to him. Recognising him the way his body recognised hers. ‘Good,’ she said, her hands coming to his chest the way they always did, as if she couldn’t stop herself from touching him. ‘I love our child, but...not you.’

The words felt like small slivers of glass pushed slowly beneath his skin and he wasn’t sure why. Because he didn’t want her to love him. He didn’t want anyone to love him. Love demanded things, required things. Love was a list of expenses that he had to pay back. Love was a deal impossible to negotiate with. Love was an empty house and loneliness.

He didn’t want that again, not for himself. He never had.

‘Just as well,’ he said evenly. ‘Because I don’t love you either.’

‘But our child? You’ll love him, won’t you?’

Tension crept through him, making his muscles tight and his jaw ache. It was true, his heart had died the death of a thousand cuts. His father’s cold words and his efforts to ‘harden him up’. Little by little the store of love he’d had inside him had leaked away until there was nothing left.

Until he’d hardened himself entirely just as his father had wanted him to. As hard as his father had been. No, harder.

His father had turned him into the perfect businessman, the perfect CEO, and yet he’d retained enough of his ‘soft’ nature, as his father had termed it, to make it clear he wasn’t a carbon copy.

It wasn’t soft to enjoy pleasure, and so he’d cultivated it as carefully as he’d cultivated his business acumen, until finally he was both the businessman and the sybarite, because why not? Why couldn’t you have your cake and eat it too?

Why couldn’t you have all that, and love your child? None of it was mutually exclusive. He didn’t need a heart in order to love. All he needed was to not be his father, and he’d already achieved that.

‘Of course, I’ll love him.’ And to make the point, he smoothed his hand over her bump where their baby lay. ‘He’s my son.’

Abruptly, as if his touch had burned her, she pulled herself out of his arms, and took a couple of steps away.

He stared at her in surprise. ‘Maude? What the hell is going on?’

‘Your childhood,’ she said, ignoring him. ‘Why was it unhappy?’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘If you want to be a good father to your child, then I want to know why you were so unhappy as a kid. So we can avoid making the same mistakes.’

Impatience twisted inside him. He had no idea where she was going with this, or what had provoked it, and he really didn’t want to continue the conversation. What he wanted to do was cut their cake and then take her to bed.

‘Later,’ he said, trying to temper his tone. ‘Let’s have some cake first at least.’

‘No,’ she said, oddly insistent. ‘Now. I need to know who I married.’

He took a calming breath, trying to hold onto his temper, because she was clearly upset so maybe going along with this—whatever it was—would finally get him to the truth.

‘Fine.’ He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers so he wouldn’t keep reaching for her, since clearly she didn’t want him to. ‘What do you want to know?’

She’d folded her arms across her chest as if cold. ‘Everything.’

‘Okay. Well, my mother was my father’s lover. They weren’t married. She walked out when I was two. My father was going to put me up for adoption because he’d never wanted children, but then he changed his mind. He decided he needed an heir after all and, lo, there I was.’ The words had a bitter tinge to them, but he decided he didn’t care. He was bitter and he had reason to be. ‘Dad wanted a strong businessman for a son, so from an early age that’s how he treated me. Everything I wanted, I had to negotiate for. Clothes, food, heating, toys, his attention, his time. Nothing came for free. I had to pay for it all.

‘When I was thirteen, I was handed a list of expenses I’d incurred merely by existing and he expected me to pay him back.’ He kept his tone casual, because, after all, while he might be bitter, all of this had happened many years ago and it had no bearing on what was happening now. ‘My father wanted me to learn how to be a boardroom warrior, how to be hard, to never let anything get in the way of a good deal, and that was his way of doing things. He told me that if I paid back the money he spent on my upbringing, I’d be named his heir.’

Maude was silent, her golden-brown eyes fixed on his.

‘He died of a heart attack when I was seventeen,’ he went on. ‘But I hadn’t paid him back yet—nearly, I was very close—so I missed out on being named as his heir. I suspect the game had always been rigged and he’d never intended to leave it to me anyway. I just didn’t know it until then.’

Her gaze flickered, though what she was thinking he didn’t know. ‘What did you do?’ she asked.

‘I took the company back.’ He smiled, though it was rather more savage than he’d meant it to be. ‘I put into practice every lesson he’d ever taught me, and I fought the board of Lancaster Developments into submission. Then I took the company apart, piece by little piece, and sold all of it. Then with that money I started my own company, and built it so that it was larger than his ever was.’ He’d always found some satisfaction in that, yet saying it out loud to Maude now, it almost sounded...petty. ‘You could say that my father would have been proud of me,’ he went on, ignoring the feeling, ‘because I turned myself into him. Everything I learned I put to good use as a businessman and he wasn’t wrong about a lot of things.’

There was a taut expression on her face. ‘Will you teach the baby those same lessons?’

It was a fair question, though he hated she’d felt the need to even ask it. ‘No,’ he said fiercely. ‘I will never do to him what my father did to me. Never.’

The tension in her face had eased slightly, yet something was still wrong, he knew it.

‘Is that what was worrying you?’ he asked. ‘You’d think I’d hurt our—’

‘No,’ she interrupted quickly. ‘No, I don’t think that, not at all. It’s just... Well, I suppose we both have our issues, and I’m not going to be the usual kind of wife. So if you’re expecting me to be a certain thing...’ She trailed off, but he didn’t need her to explain.

He’d been right, she had been afraid, and he could understand why. Her life with her grandparents had left its mark on her and she was worried he might do the same thing to her. He wouldn’t, of course. All he expected of her was that she be the delightful creature she already was.

‘I’m not expecting you to be anything but yourself, nymph,’ he said gently, and when he took his hand out of his pocket and extended it to her, it was in invitation rather than as a demand. ‘Come and sit down with me. Let’s eat this wedding breakfast and talk about anything you want. Or not talk if that’s your preference.’

For a long moment she stared at him, as if she were a wild creature unsure of whether to trust him or not. Then slowly she came to him and took his hand, and together they sat under the white silk pavilion and ate their wedding breakfast.

He told her about the forest and Craddock, and the stag he’d cried over. ‘My father sneered at me,’ he said, sipping on his glass of champagne. ‘“It’s just a dumb animal”, he told me. “If you can’t handle shooting a deer, then how are you going to survive in the business world?”’

‘Your father was the dumb animal, not you.’ Maude’s dark eyes were full of fire. ‘What a terrible thing to say.’

‘It was,’ he agreed. ‘Dad only had terrible things to say.’ It didn’t feel bad to talk to her about these moments of vulnerability. In fact, it felt as if he could tell her anything, anything at all. ‘You should know,’ he continued, after a moment’s pause, ‘that I haven’t led a good life, nymph. Nothing was more important than my own pleasure, and even that was getting dull. At least until the night of the bacchanal.’

She leaned her elbows on the table, velvety eyes dark. ‘So, what changed?’

He looked at her. ‘You know what changed. You, being in the woods that night too. You, running from me. You, giving me all your passion even though I was a stranger to you.’ He paused, because this was a confession that felt dangerous somehow, and yet he had to say it. ‘You changed my life that night, Maude.’

Something flickered in her gaze, an expression gone too fast for him to read. But then she leaned forward and reached for his hand where it rested on the tabletop, her long, slender fingers twining with his. He hadn’t asked for any of her confidences, so when she spoke, everything in him went still.

‘When my gran came to get me from the commune, Mum walked away,’ Maude said slowly. ‘And she never looked back. Not even for one last glimpse of me. She just walked away as if I meant nothing to her.’

There was pain in her eyes as she spoke and he could see how deeply this had hurt her.

He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, which was pitifully inadequate, but it was all he could think of to say. ‘That’s a terrible thing for a mother to do.’

‘We should have swapped places.’ A faint smile turned her mouth. ‘I would have loved to sleep in the forest. Instead, all I got was my grandparents’ concrete garden, with no trees, or flowers or grass.’

‘Poor nymph,’ he murmured, and he meant it. ‘That must have been hell on earth for you.’

‘It was,’ she said simply. ‘Leaving that place was the best thing I ever did.’

There was a silence then, of mutual acknowledgement of the hurts they’d both suffered.

Then he said, to break the moment, ‘So where did you go after that?’

The conversation turned to less painful subjects, though no less interesting to him, as she told him about her life after she’d left her grandparents’ house.

Then they talked about casual subjects, mundane things such as their favourite foods and their favourite books. The music they liked and the movies they’d enjoyed. He told her how he’d hiked to Everest base camp once when he’d been younger, and she told him that she’d always wanted to see the Amazon rainforest.

Then he asked her what it was that she actually did in his forest, and that was enough to make her grab his hand and lead him into the trees, talking all the while. She named trees and plants as she went, and what their niche in the forest ecology was, and how everything worked in concert with each other. And he saw it all with new eyes. Saw her anew too. Glowing with passion, bright with interest and curiosity. Nature was fiercely important to her, he could see, and she knew so much about it. Everything was connected, she told him, everything on this planet was connected.

Perhaps it was. When she talked like that, perhaps he even believed her. He certainly felt connected to her in a way he’d never experienced with another person.

They were in a little clearing with bracken on the ground when he stopped and reached for her. She’d been talking about ferns, but he was impatient now, because she was golden and glowing, and she was his wife. He wanted her and he was tired of waiting.

She didn’t protest as he laid her down on the bracken, taking off her gown and veil, but leaving on her crown. As he left on his. Because they were both rulers of this little piece of land, king and queen of the forest, and this would be their marriage bed.

This time, though, he lay on his back, with her astride him, her hair a golden mane down her back, her hands braced on his chest. And he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Because surely heaven was this, making love to a wood nymph who was his wife, on a bed of bracken, in a forest clearing.

And he realised, as she rose and fell above him, the pleasure twining around both of them, that this had gone beyond mere sex. Sex he knew very well, because he’d had a lot of it in his life. But this, what they were doing right now, right here, wasn’t sex. It was more, it was deeper. It was reverent and sacred. It was worship.

It wasn’t just about bodies. It was about souls.

He had no idea why he was thinking this, because he wasn’t a man much given to poetry. But there was poetry in this. In her.

In her stubbornness and wild temper. In the joy she took in the things that were important to her. In the way her hand would rest on her bump every so often as if soothing the tiny baby inside her. In her touching his hair, warmth in her eyes, and calling him badger.

And in this, her gasps of pleasure, her eyes gone molten as he worshipped her, in the perfection of them moving together, slowly. Building this little castle of pleasure and wonder between them.

He’d never felt anything like it and he knew in that moment that he never would again. That for him it would always be this woman. That any other partner wouldn’t be able to give him what she could. And he was at peace with that.

She was his wife and she would never leave him.

He’d make sure of it.