Chapter 3
He simply stood there inside the doorway of their pale gold bedroom and took her in. He had come ahead of the rest of his family because he was impatient to see her. Three weeks was more than enough time to be away from her and he was unable to bloody sleep without her.
She was seated in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her hair. It was her nightly ritual, and it felt comforting. They had been at odds for too long, It was time to fix things. His body stirred slowly, heat spreading throughout his body as he gazed at the creamy caramel complexion through the transparent blue silk robe.
As if just sensing his presence, she looked up and saw him reflected in the mirror. Her smile came slowly, blooming first in her magnificent eyes and then her sultry lips. Putting the brush away, she turned around.
“You’re back!” Her voice was sultry, a hint of smoke and sex.
“Yes.” He steadied himself for a minute and tried to quiet his heart. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You sure did.” She stayed where she was, even though she wanted to run into his arms. Her gaze was uncertain, and it broke his heart a little bit to realize that she was not sure where she stood with him. “Is everyone else here?”
He shook his head and belatedly realized he was just standing there. Pushing away from the door jamb, he walked towards her and dropped to his knees. “Hi.” His hands slid up her thighs, feeling the silkiness of her skin. “You just showered.”
“Yes.” One hand went to his face, her expression luminous. “Just now. Lord, I missed you.”
“Did you?” Moving his head, he used his tongue to caress her palm. “How much?”
“This much.” She used one hand to shrug out of her robe, revealing that beneath it she was completely naked.
“Were you expecting me?” His breath was coming in ragged spurts as he gazed at her breasts with her nipples proud and already erect, Bending his head, he circled the nipple first with his tongue and then scraped it with his teeth.
She screamed! The reaction was violent and explosive as he continued to torture the sensitive nipples with teeth and tongue. She was pregnant and that was definitely one of the very pleasurable side effects.
As if realizing that she needed the release, he cupped her sex and that was all it took. The climax slammed into her with a fury that had her back arching, her body trembling.
“More.” He whispered harshly, face hard and taut with passion. Sliding two fingers into her musky moisture, he stroked the flesh and had her climaxing again.
Her body was trembling, breasts quivering and the sight of her, his woman, his wife, his lover, coated with passion and sweat, her lips parted, he went mad. His control was shredded. Dragging her down with him, they both fought to get rid of his clothing.
Buttons flew as they rolled on the lush gold carpet in a frenzied effort to take off his clothes. With a grunt, he toed off his boots and kicked away his trousers. He was hard as the proverbial rock and vibrating with a need so raw and potent, it ripped through him like a jagged saw.
Wrapping his hands around her narrow waist, he settled her on top of him. She sheathed him, her tightness gripping him until he felt his breath whooshing from his body.
Rearing up, he seized her mouth, tongue foraging, tasting her familiar sweetness. Her fingers dug into his flesh, racing up and down his back as she rode him, milking him, until he felt as if he was dying.
Surely, he could not survive this! Her body arched again as the climax ripped through her slender body. He came then, driving into her and watering her with his seed. Ending the kiss, he cradled her, face buried in the side of her neck, his long, lean body shuddering.
They stayed that way, wrapped around each other. He was still wearing his socks, and their clothing were strewn all around them. This was what he had been missing, night after night, sleeping alone in that big bed in their ancestral home.
“We should try and get up,” he murmured.
“Hmm.” She stroked his neck, the hairs growing thickly at his nape and smiled when she felt him still shuddering. The passion had always been fierce between them, but the three weeks absence had sharpened it to the point of violence.
“That was some welcome home gift.” He lifted his head to give her a quizzical look. “Perhaps I should go away more often.”
“I would not recommend it, especially now.” She had decided that it was time to share her news.
“Why, especially now?” He eased up, balancing her in his arms and stumbled towards the bed. She was still wrapped around him when he flopped back on the pillows. He was going to make love to her repeatedly, until they were both exhausted from the lovemaking.
“I have news.”
“Oh?”
“It has happened.”
“What?” He gave her a puzzled stare.
She brushed back tendrils of dense dark hairs from his forehead, fingers trailing the length of his sculpted jaw, the bristles of his shadow rubbing against her skin.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. What is going on?”
“We have been trying so hard and now it’s happened, and I feel like dancing.”
“Darling…”
“I am pregnant,” she blurted out.
“What?” He blinked at her, not fully comprehending what she just said.
Her smile was dazzling, eyes sparkling. “We’re pregnant, darling.”
“How? We have not made love in…”
“A month.” She nodded, a shadow crossing her lovely face. “We had help.”
“I don’t understand.”
“IVF.”
“I am sorry? What?”
“IVF.” She felt the tension in his body and rushed on to add. “Dr. Melbourne is one of the best in the field and we’re working together…”
“Implantation.” His voice had gone deadly quiet, sending shivers up and down her spine. “How?”
“Remember I insisted on you freezing your sperm in case we decided…”
“You decided all on your own without discussing this with me?”
He was slowly withdrawing, and Blair felt the coldness invading her body.
“We discussed…”
“I know damn well what we discussed.” He eased her off and had to fight to remain calm. “We agreed to wait and let nature take its course.”
“We have been waiting for five years.” She pointed out. Feeling naked and vulnerable, she tugged at the sheets and wrapped them around her. “I got tired of waiting.”
She flinched at the look on his handsome face.
“So, you went behind my back and did this.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Then consider your work done. I am damn well surprised. In fact, I am quite over the surprise and have now gone into shock.” He slid off the bed and went to get a robe from the closet. Dragging it on, he turned to look at her. “Why in the hell do you need me? You obviously have everything covered.”
“I know you are angry…”
“I am way past that.”
“But in the long run you’re going to see that I was right.” Her face took on a pleading expression. “It happened on the first try…”
“So, that’s why you came back home early.” The look on her face told him he was right. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t…”
“You deliberately started an argument so that you could leave, so I would let you leave.”
“Let me leave?” Her eyes flashed. “I am not a child.”
“You went behind my back and did this because you knew I would never agree to it.” He was so angry; he could hardly stand it. “We discussed how dangerous…” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “The risks involved. How you could lose your life…”
“Dr. Melbourne assured me that I will be carefully monitored.” She spoke rapidly, feeling the fear spiking her heart. They had discussed the enormous risks and how they ran the risk of losing some if not all of the babies. She had read where several mothers had died in the quest to chase after the IVF dream.
“I will be careful. I will do everything the doctor orders.’ Her voice broke slightly. “Just…, please, give it a chance.”
“You gave me no choice,” he said harshly. “You took it away from me.”
“Because you would not listen to reason!” She cried. “Do you know how I felt each time I miscarried? Like a failure. Less than a woman. I have seen the way your parents look at me, especially your mother.
She was able to produce three boys! Three! And I have not been able to carry a child to full term. You are the heir to the company and that means it’s on you to produce a son.” She rubbed her hand over her mouth. “I had to do something. And if you cannot understand that – then…” She broke off abruptly.
“What I cannot understand is why you went behind my back. Why the secrecy? Why couldn’t you have waited? You just turned thirty…”
“And my biological clock is ticking so much, it’s driving me crazy.”
He stared at her for a full minute, before turning on his heels.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you,” he told her coldly, “if I stay, I am very likely to do or say something that I will no doubt regret.”
She sat there as he slammed out of the room.
Burying her face in her hands, she took in several deep breaths. She had hoped that his coming home and the lovemaking that had followed would be enough to soften his opinion., He had surprised her.
She had looked up and saw him standing there and her heart had started beating like a trapped bird fluttering to escape. The thick dark hair carelessly tousled no doubt by the breeze, the black silk shirt that made a stunning contrast to his tanned skin.
Broad shoulders she loved to cradled her head on and a chest wide enough to burrow into. The scent of him, the feel of his thickness inside her had fooled her into thinking he would be on board.
That he would understand why she had to do what she did. Moving her hands from her face, she dragged her fingers through her hair. How could he not understand that she had begun to question herself.
That she felt inadequate and riddled with guilt. That she kept asking herself that if he had married someone else, they would have had a son by now. She had to do something.
She knew the risks of course. She had not just jumped into something she did not understand. She had studied the effects and consequences at length, and she was willing to take the chance. It was not only for her, but it was also for both of them. She was tired of feeling like an outcast and less than a woman.
Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she slid down and curled into a ball. She should go and find him - force him to talk about it. But she knew her husband and knew when to leave well enough alone for now.
*****
He was gone the next morning when she woke up. A terse note had been left on the bedside table. ‘Gone to play tennis with a friend. Will probably be away for dinner as well. I am not ready to talk about this yet.’
She read the note twice before folding it and putting it in the drawer. She was about to get up when there was a discreet knock on the door.
“Come in.” She pushed herself up and hoped she did not look as awful as she felt.
“Ms. Blair…” Her personal maid, Maria, beamed at her as she hustled in with a tray. “Mr. Cayden said I should bring you something. He just had coffee as usual” She placed the tray on the bed next to her.
“I could not even persuade him to have some of chef’s delicious croissants. They are freshly baked.” The woman chattered on as she went about picking up the clothing that she had forgotten were still on the carpet. Embarrassment swamped her and she tried to explain it away.
“Uhm, my husband…, he…!”
“No explanations necessary.” The woman beamed at her as she draped the articles of clothing over one ample arm. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”
“No thank you,” Blair shook her head. “I am going to spend the day with my dad, and I think I am in time to attend services at his church.”
“Wonderful!” The woman clapped her hands. “I will pick out something for you to wear.”
Blair opened her mouth to stop her, but realized she did not have the strength and her appetite was non-existent. It had taken her several hours to finally fall asleep and it had been a very restless one.
But she had to get out of this luxurious prison. And church was a sanctuary, she needed right now. Picking up the tray, she did her best to eat some of the food.
*****
He drove the Porshe. It was appropriate for the ‘need for speed’ he needed at the moment. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, and he could feel the anger burning inside his gut.
He had stood by the bed staring at her huddled under the sheet and felt the anger and fear vying for supremacy. And he was bloody furious. She had taken on something that had a hell of risk attached to it.
They had discussed it at length, gone over every detail, done their research. And had decided, both of them had come to a decision not to take that direction, not yet. The doctors had examined them thoroughly and assured them that there was no logical or medical reason they could not produce a child, they just needed time.’
He had seen her retreat a little more each time she was pregnant, and it ended in a miscarriage. She had cried bitter tears and had withdrawn into herself every time it happened. It broke his heart to see what a failed pregnancy did to her.
The last one was just six months ago. Dammit to hell! He pressed his foot down and the car jumped forward, engine purring as he gave it speed. He had no bloody idea where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away. He could not be in the same space with her. Not now!
*****
“Are we going to talk about it?”
Turning her head, she gave her father an absent smile that did not quite reach her eyes. The service had been wonderful and had given her a much-needed respite from her troubles. But now she was seated in the cozy living room with a fire burning at her back and the tiredness invading her bones.
“I miss mom so much,” she said suddenly, trailing the gold belt tied around her waist through her fingers. “Her quiet demeanor and the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say.”
“She certainly had a way with words,” Blake handed her a cup of tea, “I am making beef stew.”
She nodded and took a sip of the tea. “Mom would tell me what to do or how to deal with this.”
“I don’t think her talent would have extended that far.” Her father said gently. “Honey, what happened? You showed up here, just as I was heading out for church and have not said a word. I am assuming you told your husband about the pregnancy.”
She nodded, tears clouding her vision. “He’s very angry.”
“Angry that you’re pregnant or that you went about it without telling him?”
She lifted a shoulder listlessly. “I think it’s both.”
“Honey, what did you expect?”
Her tear brightened eyes sought his. “What else was I supposed to do?” She demanded.
“Let nature run its course. I know you want children, but we have a way of trying to play God. You have it in your head that you have to give your husband an heir and that thought has been channeling your decisions, taking over your life. I know you, Blair.
Whenever you get something in your head, it stays there and nothing can move it.” He smiled wryly as he sat back in the comfortable rocking chair.
“You inherited that from your mother. She would get an idea and latch onto it with both hands.” His expression turned wistful. “And you’re right, she would know just what to say in a situation like this.” He stared at her for a moment. “I am afraid for you. Afraid that in your quest to have children, you have gone too far.”
“I am not just doing this for him. I want to be a mother, and you know how much.”
“Yes. But some things are better left to the Lord. Sometimes we take things into our hands and end up making a bigger mess.” Scooting forward, he took the cup from her and took her hands in his. “I am sincerely praying that this is not one of those times.”
*****
She ate in her private salon. Their suite took up an entire wing of the house and consisted of three bedrooms with en suite bathrooms, an office where her husband did his work whenever he was home, a gym, a small library, a kitchen, a sitting room and her green and white salon that overlooked the east garden – a pretty as a picture wooded area, with a dazzling display of pink and white begonias, tulips and a scattering of red and white roses.
There was a view of the tennis court as well as the gazebo nestled between two towering redwood trees. When she had first moved here after the wedding, she had the idea of cooking for her husband. The kitchen was well stocked with supplies, and she loved to cook.
But over time, the sheen of new marriage had worn off, and her desire to cook had given way to a ritualistic solitude in her salon. She found comfort in the routine, a semblance of control in an otherwise uncontrollable life.
The garden's beauty was a balm to her strained psyche, a reminder that life, in all its forms, persisted stubbornly and with grace.
His mother had taken her aside and told her in a firm and unyielding tone that the wife of a Caruso did not have time to be domestic and they had numerous staff to see to their needs.
“My dear, you are going to be too busy with other things to worry about making a meal for your husband.”
She had mentioned it to Cayden, and he had waved it aside, agreeing with his mother.
“Why on earth would you want to spend your time slaving over a hot stove when we have an excellent chef to do just that?”
She had left it alone, realizing that the difference between them was glaring. She loved to cook and would have found pleasure preparing a meal, even closing themselves off from the rest of the family and simply dining alone with each other.
The dinners at the manor were stifling and formal and one was required to dress for them. Thankfully, each member of the family was so busy, they rarely sat down to a meal more than a handful of times.
As she sat alone, the memories of their early days together flooded her mind. How they had laughed, shared dreams, and made plans for a future that seemed so bright.
Now, those dreams were clouded with the weight of unmet expectations and the silent, festering wounds of loss. She wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other, or if the growing chasm between them was now too wide to bridge.
Moving the fork around the plate listlessly, she forced herself to enjoy and partake of the delicious orange duck Anthony had prepared especially for her. She got along well with all the staff because she treated them well. She had once asked Maria to call her Blair, and the woman had looked at her with a horrified expression on her face.
“Ms. Marianne would not allow it.”
And that was the heart of the matter, she decided. She was not mistress of this place. Her mother-in-law was. Marianne Caruso’s word was law, and no one dared to go against her. Blair wanted her own home, where she got to make decisions. She wanted her own family and could see nothing wrong with working to make that happen.