The Gilf

The GILF By Kimberly Zant

The GILF By

Kimberly Zant © copyright by Kimberly Zant, September 2010 Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, September 2010 ISBN 978-1-60394-455-7 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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The GILF By Kimberly Zant

Chapter One A mixture of anticipation and anxiety filled me as I dragged my small carryon across the platform to the waiting train. The anticipation was entirely due to the quivering expectation that I was about to experience a grand adventure and nothing fate had thrown in my way between the time I’d decided to embark on my little adventure and the moment of departure had managed to quell that except briefly. The anxiety was a lot of little things wrapped up together that I’d decided to ignore and had stuffed ruthlessly into the back of my mind. Like a train load of frantic hostages, though, they were waving their arms and screaming and trying to break free to ruin the vacation I’d planned for myself. It was the first real, honest to god, vacation I’d had in years and years. I didn’t actually want to think about just how many. It was enough that I was going to be completely carefree—for once—and I was still young enough, at heart anyway, to enjoy it! I’d had plenty of pseudo-vacations over the past several years. That was what I termed the occasional trip I had to make for business because it was the only time I managed to break free of the rut of the day to day trials and tribulations of being a small business owner. As long as I had to go anyway, I always treated myself to a little pure fun while I was at it. It usually didn’t amount to a whole lot of ‘fun’ for all that because the business that had brought me to whatever destination took precedence. I tried to get a nice room in a nice hotel, though, enjoy room service once or twice and an in-room movie and whatever socializing I could squeeze in between meetings and so forth. If I managed to get the chance to do a little siteseeing, I did that, too. This time, though, I wasn’t going to focus on business and try to have a little guilty pleasure on the side. This time, I’d worked my ass off to get everything done 2

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that needed my attention before I left and dropped everything in my partners’ lap, my daughters. I was going to have three whole entire weeks to focus on enjoying myself! Well, I thought as I finally climbed on board and presented my ticket to the conductor, I probably wouldn’t be able to focus on that completely! Something unexpected was bound to pop up—It always did. And I had to check in to make sure if it did that the problem, whatever it was, was taken care of, but otherwise …. I was a little disconcerted when the conductor showed me to my private room. I hadn’t been on a train, naturally enough, since I was just a kid and I certainly hadn’t traveled first class then! The train had seemed a lot … roomier when I was kid, though! When the conductor had stowed my carryon and pointed out all of the amenities, I smiled a little weakly and perched on the edge of the couch that would be my bed later. As soon as she left, I looked around the tiny room again and decided it was actually cozy and reasonably comfortable. I had my own private bathroom complete with shower! Maybe when I changed trains my new accommodations would be a little more luxurious? At least I wasn’t crowded in with a bunch of strangers and children! Of course that also meant that I had nothing to do to entertain myself since I could’ve watched everyone else talking and having fun, but it was quiet and peaceful! The thought brought my mind to my recent attempts to find a companion and my spirits dipped. After hearing all the hype about internet dating, I’d decided that was the thing to do these days to meet someone. I was so ‘out of the loop’ as to feel like a dinosaur. I’d been married most of my life—not to the same man. 3

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Basically I’d been passed from one to another—father to first husband—single a handful of years—and then husband number two. I’d decided I’d had quite enough of being ‘owned’ after the last one and had clawed my way up from the poverty husband number two had dumped me in after the nightmare divorce by dent of grim determination and absolute dedication. It had taken five long, hard years of clawing, though, and I hadn’t had a moment to spare for anything else besides children and job. I actually got horny before I really felt lonely. That was a strange circumstance for somebody who’d spent most of her married life trying to evade the sexual demands of husbands one and two. I supposed though, that I just didn’t get the chance to get horny as long as I had a man around or I would have experienced horny before. Or maybe it was the age thing? I’d read somewhere that nature’s ultimate joke was that men reached their sexual peak around eighteen and women around forty. Ok, so I’d passed forty a while back and maybe that wasn’t it, but there was no getting around the fact that I missed dick. I’d formed a sort of nostalgic longing for it and figured, what the hell? Men spent their lives in pursuit of pussy. What was wrong with pursuing a little dick? Why buy the pig if I could get the sausage for free? The age thing. It was really dismaying to discover men didn’t actually want to share dick with pussy that was over thirty. Actually, their preference seemed to be under twenty, but I distinctly recalled I’d had offers well into my thirties. I supposed it had been all downhill from there, but I’d been too preoccupied with surviving to really notice. The dating thing was a real wakeup call in a lot of ways. My preoccupation with surviving and then thriving once I finally managed to actually get going hadn’t left any ‘me’ time because I’d had to scrape the bottom of the barrel just to put together a little time for my family. 4

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They were grown and didn’t actually need me anymore, but they had little ones and I wanted to try to keep my family ties close. When I finally decided I was tired of ignoring horny and it was time to do something about it, I did an assessment of the merchandise and discovered with a great deal of dismay that the years hadn’t been especially kind—actually the food I’d enjoyed had been even less kind! Clearly, I wasn’t going to get what I wanted looking like an old hag! I’d set to work with a will to whip the old hag into shape. It was really depressing to discover my curves seemed to have migrated somewhere along the way, but I’d never lacked for determination. Diet and exercise took me most of the way and god had provided plastic surgeons for the ‘other’. Ok so I still didn’t look young. Young was gone. I was mature, and looked it, but I decided I looked pretty damned fantastic for mature. Unfortunately, the dick didn’t seem to agree. I honestly didn’t think they looked past the birth date. Or maybe it was the ‘I don’t want to play house’ thing?—because there was no way in hell I was going to play housekeeper, laundress, cook, fuck buddy, and nurse! I wasn’t sure if it was the age or not, but once I discovered that I’d become the object of desire of every male ten, fifteen, or twenty years older than me in the tri-state area, I gave up. Maybe I was being an age bigot myself, but I just couldn’t picture myself having a lot of fun with the guys that had to push their oxygen tanks around. Visions of making whoopee and then having to summon an ambulance for my partner for his heart attack danced in my head and just killed horny. I supposed I should’ve looked at the silver lining. They probably weren’t actually up to demanding sex until it became a chore, but I wanted my damned second childhood while I could still enjoy it! Besides, it was annoying as hell to work so damned hard to look good, or at least decent, and read all those ‘someone who loves me for who I am’ from the damned men! Apparently, they saw absolutely nothing wrong with being fat, bald, 5

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toothless, broke, and disabled—and still thought they were a hell of a catch—and should be able to demand a woman under thirty who looked like a model or an actress! One romantic had written that if he couldn’t carry you from a burning building, or to bed, you were too fat! As if that 5’6’’, 150 pound weakling could or would carry a woman from a burning building! If he could make that kind of comments, I couldn’t picture him as any kind of white knight! The jolting of the train as it finally began to pull away from the station jerked me from my dark thoughts. I’d planned to dismiss them—thought I had—which, I supposed, just went to show how deeply distressed I was to find myself in ‘no man’s land’—looking and feeling great and too damned old to be wanted by anything but the geriatric crowd—who were actually looking for a live-in nurse— to cook, clean and do laundry. I’d just thought it was distressing that my ex’s made me feel like a pussy on two legs! It wasn’t nearly as depressing to be a sex object as it was to be viewed as sexless—or invisible! Feeling my spirits lift as I stared out the window, I reminded myself that I really didn’t need a companion to enjoy myself. At least this way I could do whatever I pleased when I pleased without having to compromise with someone who never wanted to do the same thing I did. That was what being married had been like—a constant compromise—except I was the one that was always expected to ‘compromise’, which meant doing whatever hubby wanted to do. Otherwise, hubby showed his ass and acted like he was a spoiled three year old and made my life miserable. I was going to tour the U.S. by train—side trips by car—see things I’d never seen or even thought I would get the chance to see. The first leg of the trip would take me, primarily, up the east coast, which I’d seen plenty of times from a car 6

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window or below me on the few plane trips I’d made. Except this time, I could actually enjoy looking at the scenery while somebody else drove. I had three cities picked out to explore on the East coast, and then I would pick up the train again in Chicago and I’d be heading west and I’d get to see parts of the country I’d never seen before. I was allowed two stops on my vacation package and would be getting off to tour via car before I caught the train again. I’d decided to optimize my sightseeing by taking two tour packages with four stops. I couldn’t wait! Bored after about thirty minutes of staring out the window, my mind drifted to my laptop. I firmly tamped the urge to get it out and start working. Instead, I got up and headed purposefully down the corridor to check out the club car. The rocking was just a little unnerving. It didn’t seem to me that trains had rocked quite that badly way back when I’d ridden the train as a kid. Fortunately, the corridor was too narrow for me to fall down. I did ping pong off the walls a couple of times but managed to make it to the club car with pretty much everything intact, including my dignity. The car was about half full. I looked around hopefully for a friendly face. Talking entertained me. I didn’t especially care what the subject was. And there he was! It felt like one of those movie moments where the film zeroes in on beauty personified and goes all hazy—except, of course, my beauty was male. The most beautiful man I’d seen in … Well! I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen one that gorgeous! My little heart went pity-pat. My kegels clapped with excitement! He must be every bit of thirty, I realized after a few moments, dismayed. What an adorable … child! I must be years older than him, I thought unhappily—decades, maybe centuries! 7

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I just wanted to look, though, damn it! Unfortunately, I didn’t see a seat that would offer a vantage point so that I could lust over him without frightening him. There was a vacant seat next to him, but I had a bad feeling the lust stirring in me was going to make me tongue tied and even if that wasn’t the case I couldn’t look without him knowing. After wrestling with myself for a few moments, I finally decided to take the seat. Maybe I could absorb some of the pheromones he was throwing off? “Is this seat taken?” I asked the woman sitting on the opposite side of the vacant chair. “His companion was sitting there,” the woman replied, nodding to indicate the tall, dark and beautiful male. I glanced at him, disappointed but not surprised. “Oh.” He turned at the sound of our voices and lifted his head in my direction, but his cool, gray gaze was distant. I was getting used to that look. It had replaced the assessing and or appreciative looks I’d once encountered from men. It was the ‘I can’t see you therefore you do not exist’ look. I hadn’t really expected anything else, but I did appreciate the opportunity for a full on, really good look at his face, and that did surprise me because he was much better looking than I’d expected he would be close up. Sighing, I turned to look for another seat.

****

It was the voice that penetrated Giles’ abstraction, not what she actually asked, but the sound itself and at that it was more a matter of his reaction to the sound that penetrated his thoughts than complete awareness. He’d been peripherally aware of a new presence, but his dark thoughts had created a buffer between him and his surroundings. The voice moved through him like teasing 8

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fingers, however, eliciting a flare of sexual interest and effectively diverted him from his anger. He flicked a look at the woman then, noting first that she was rather petite. She’d turned away, but she was turned more toward him, allowing him a three quarter view of a face that was as appealing as the voice. Pretty … very pretty, actually. He skimmed downward again, pausing on the breasts. Nice. Waist — very nice. Hips, nicely rounded—This was getting more and more interesting. He flicked a glance at her face again. Definitely pretty. Thirty five, he wondered? Somewhere in that vicinity, he decided — give or take a couple of years either way. Young enough she probably had obnoxious teens still at home, he decided, vaguely disappointed. The question was, were they at home? Or tagging along? He scanned her length again for another look and decided it was certainly worth looking in to. He didn’t see a ring. There was a vague indentation where one had been removed, indicating that it had been removed quite a while back—that was a definite plus! “I doubt Penelope will be back. You’re welcome to sit there if you like,” he said, realizing abruptly that she was looking for somewhere else to sit.

****

Like the woman I’d just spoken to, he had a British accent. His was much dreamier, naturally. “You’re sure?” I asked hesitantly. “She can find another seat if she does,” he said without concern, flicking a glance at the rest of the car. I felt color creep into my cheeks at the comment and wondered if he was wondering why I’d decided I wanted the seat next to his, or worse, suspected my motives. A little weak kneed from having his attention a whole two or three 9

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seconds—he’d actually looked at me!—I dropped ungracefully into the seat. “I haven’t gotten used to the movement yet,” I muttered uncomfortably, glancing at the woman. “Are you two traveling together? I noticed you have a similar accent.” The woman smiled. “No, we’re just both Brits. Actually, I live in Australia now. We moved our family from England years ago.” “Oh really?” I commented, wondering if British people moved between Canada, Australia, and England like we moved from state to state. I knew Canada and Australia still had close ties to the UK—closer than Americans had—but I decided not to voice that immediate conclusion based on such a flimsy piece of evidence. “I always thought I’d like to visit Australia.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. I’d never really thought all that much about it—and it was highly unlikely I’d ever visit any place that would require me getting on a boat or a plane—but it seemed a polite thing to say. The woman smiled, pleased with the mild compliment. “We decided to take a holiday and tour the U.S.” “Me, too,” I said happily. “I haven’t been on a train since I was a kid. I thought it would be sort of an adventure to do it this way, besides being less tiring than driving everywhere … and safer, too, since I’m traveling alone,” I added for the hunk’s benefit as that stroke of brilliance occurred to me. I frowned, suddenly remembering that I’d heard Europeans traveled by train a lot and had much better train systems than the antiquated one the U.S. had. I looked around, wondering how ‘our’ train stacked up and decided it probably looked as bad to them, or worse, than it did me. Not that it hadn’t been maintained fairly well, but it did look like it had seen better days. On the other hand, it certainly didn’t look any more worn than the few planes I’d been on and it was a good bit more comfortable even if it was cramped. I still couldn’t help feeling a little defensive about it. “Nobody much takes the trains anymore except for inner city transit, you know? There’s always such a rush 10

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to get to the destination that you usually can’t spare the time to see anything in between.” “You’re taking one of the tours?” “Sort of,” I hedged, not wanting to divulge the extravagance of my vacation package. “I thought about it, but they don’t cover as much territory as I wanted to see, so I just got tickets to destinations where I wanted to stop and get off for a while. I’m going to rent a car and do some sightseeing on my own and then pick up the train at another point and go from there. You’re taking one of the tours?” I chatted with the woman at least an hour, keenly aware of the hunk on the other side, half hoping he might jump in at some point. He never did, but he stayed put and I enjoyed the proximity and the smell of the delicious cologne or aftershave he was wearing. The one point of frustration for me was that I couldn’t study him and I wanted to—like a fine piece of art. A happy thought occurred to me after a while when the glare from the sun kept dazzling me. Opening my purse, I took out a pair of sunglasses and oh-so-casually turned my head just enough that I could glance at him out of the corner of my eye. A jolt went through me when I discovered he was studying me instead of the view from the windows. As if he felt my interest, he met my gaze and his very fine mouth curled up in a faint smile—almost of triumph—as if he’d been aware the whole time of my motives in taking the seat. A red tide climbed my neck and all the way to my hair line. I completely lost my train of thought at being caught gawking. “Uh … it was so nice meeting you! I hope I run in to you again. I think I’ll just get up and stretch my legs and do a little exploring,” I said hurriedly to the woman, snatching the sunglasses off and shooting to my feet. I was glad I’d mentioned exploring because I took off in entirely the wrong direction. I didn’t discover it until I got to the dining car. Dismayed at the prospect of having to pass my hunk again while I was still in a state of disorder, I hesitated and finally turned around and trudged back when I realized I didn’t have an 11

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alternative. He was standing at the bar when I entered the club car again and I got the chance to check out his profile again. I was tempted to‘accidentally’ bump him as I went by, but I decided I’d had enough excitement for a while. He turned as I reached him and we almost did collide. “Through exploring so soon?” I felt heat climb my cheeks again. I hadn’t felt so breathless, flustered, or excited, I was certain, since my first crush in grammar school. I was equally sure it was just as pointless as that had been, never to be reciprocated, but there was warm interest in his cool gray eyes and it melted my brain. “Oh … well there’s nothing down that way except the dining car. At least I know where it is when I need it, though.” “Actually, I think there’s another club car on the other side of the dining room. I was thinking about checking it out. Would you like to go with me?” Try not to look like a complete pushover, Mila, I told myself. “Sure!” “My name’s Giles, by the way—Giles Hawthorne.” “Oh! I like that! It sounds so ….” Words failed me. I’d been on the point of saying ‘aristocratic’ but I didn’t want to sound like a complete hick. “British?” I bit my lip, trying not to giggle like I was thirteen—or drunk—which I was, totally high as a kite on the endorphins flooding my brain. “Yes, that’s it! So British. I’m Mila … Stephens.” His gaze flickered over my face speculatively. “I like that. Pretty, very feminine. It suits you. Italian?” I stared at him blankly, too wrapped up in the compliment that preceded the question to make the connection. “Oh! No. I guess my mother just liked the name. 12

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I’m … uh …hodgepodge, I guess—English, Scottish, French and Cherokee— primarily. I don’t think there was any Italian in there, though.” He drank a few sips of his drink and then abandoned it. “You didn’t want to bring it?” He shook his head. “I only bought it as a ruse to waylay you on your way back.” I sent him a stunned glance, saw amusement was gleaming in his eyes, and chuckled. “Oh! Right!” His gaze was speculative when I glanced at him. He smiled faintly. “You don’t believe me?” I chuckled again, leading the way. “Of course not! I was born, but it wasn’t yesterday.” “Born? Not hatched?” he teased. “I don’t think so.” “Interesting …. You remind me of a little bird.” Pausing at the door that separated the car we were in from the next one, I considered whether I found that insulting and finally decided I wasn’t certain whether to be insulted or not. I sent him a quizzical look. “Uh oh! I’m not sure I want to know which one. I have to tell you, though, that if you have a song bird in mind you should hear me sing before you consider it.” He pushed the auto door opener and settled a hand along my back near my waist as we negotiated the wildly jouncing deck where the two cars were joined. I could’ve enjoyed that a lot more if the trip across hadn’t seemed so hazardous. He didn’t remove his hand until we’d gone through the doors on the other side, though. “I suppose I’ll have to reserve judgment until I can get you to sing for me 13

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then,” he murmured in a husky voice that sent little quivers of excitement along my nerve endings—among other places. I flicked a look of surprise up at him. It startled me a whole lot more to discover I hadn’t imagined the suggestive note in the comment. There was still a faint smile playing about his finely chiseled lips, but the look in his eyes was rife with speculation of a purely sexual nature. I blinked at him a couple of times and decided I was hallucinating—or he was joking. Disconcerted, I smiled at his little joke and led the way across the dining car. He settled his hand along my back just above the curve of my waist as he had before. It left a burning imprint, but I did my best to ignore it. He was just being courteous, I told myself. The train was bouncing and swaying and I was staggering like a drunk. He was just trying to keep me from sprawling out—helping the ‘little old lady’. We found the other club car on the other side as he’d predicted but it was much more crowded than the one we’d left. This one was a double-decker, however, and we took the stairs up to check out the upper area. Discovering it was also pretty crowded, we decided to head back. “Your place or mine?” he asked as we crossed the dining car again. I flicked a quick look at his face, feeling a faint blush creep into my cheeks again as I tried to decide whether he was suggesting what I thought he was or not. Dare I hope? Very unlikely, I decided. And just as well—probably. I was so enthralled with him I doubted I could gather enough moisture to spit—and he’d probably find it a complete turn off to try anything with a board. “I expect my companion is asleep, but at least it would be quieter and easier to chat.” 14

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“Oh.” I considered it for a moment. “We could go to mine if you’d like,” I said hesitantly. “I’d hate to disturb your companion.” I’d really hate that! He grimaced. “Me, too. She wasn’t in a very sunny mood when she left the club car.” Wondering a little uneasily what I was getting myself in to, I led him back to my cabin. He looked it over with interest once we got inside and checked out the bathroom. “Ah ha!” he said with satisfaction, closing the door again. “What?” “Penelope was convinced we’d been shafted because we were foreigners! This looks pretty much like ours, though.” “Seriously?” He sent me a quizzical look. “Paranoia,” he said succinctly, “although I confess I had wondered myself.” He had a way of infusing just a touch of irony in everything he said that kept me off kilter and uncertain when he was perfectly serious and when he was joking. I found it almost as intriguing as his good looks—maybe more interesting, in a way. I smiled wryly. “I know what you mean. I had visions of the accommodations looking something like the luxury suites I’d seen in old movies—I suppose private cars probably still look a lot like that.” He’d been staring out the window, but he turned and lifted a dark brow at me at that. “I don’t suppose you have one? I confess I’m far more accustomed to that sort of luxury and it has a good deal more appeal.” I decided he was joking and laughed ruefully. “Sorry, no! It would be nice, though.” 15

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“You think?” he asked with interest, glancing around and then settling in the easy chair across from the bunk where I was sitting. Relaxing fractionally, I considered it more seriously, trying to imagine what it might be like to travel around the country in a private train car like the millionaires had once done. “I suppose, if you needed to travel a lot, it would be a very pleasant way to do it.” “Only needed? You don’t have wanderlust?” I shook my head and grimaced. “Sorry. I’m boring. I’m more of a homebody. I’ve plenty to do there to keep me occupied. I do enjoy going off now and then to see things, but I’m always glad to get home again.” “And get back into the old rut, eh?” I shrugged. “I like my rut well enough,” I said somewhat defensively. “It’s comforting to be around familiar things and people—to me.” “No sense of adventure? No need always to have excitement in your life?” he asked quizzically. I considered that. “Don’t you think it would get tiring always soaring from peak to peak? I mean, it’s just not natural to live on the edge all the time.” “Ah, well, if we’re talking about me—I’m a dead bore. I like my rut, too. More than enough excitement to get the adrenaline pumping from time to time in my line of work. I thought we were discussing you?” I wanted to ask him what his line of work was, but I didn’t want him to think I was nosey. I figured he’d tell me if he felt inclined to. “I didn’t realize we were discussing me.” “Of course we are. I’ve the notion you’re an absolutely fascinating woman and I don’t mean to give up until I’ve plumbed your depths.” 16

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The remark would’ve sounded suggestive even if not for the look in his eyes, but despite his attempt to maintain an expression of innocence to counter the look and keep me guessing, there was enough heat in his gaze to warm me from the core outward as if I’d been zapped by a microwave. I also realized that I’d met a very rare breed of male—extremely intelligent, exquisite manners, and with enough sophistication and cleverness to make it impossible for me to tell what sort of game he was playing. I knew it was a game. I just wasn’t certain if I was going to end up being the butt of some sort of joke. Or a victim.

****

Giles felt a mingling of both pleasure and disappointment at the wariness in Mila’s eyes. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be an easy toss, and he was vastly disappointed over that, particularly when he was almost a hundred percent certain that she was as attracted to him as he was to her and he’d almost convinced himself that an opportunity was all that was lacking to encourage her to do the horizontal tango. Ruefully, he considered that he might have been far more certain if he hadn’t been distracted by his attraction to her, that he was uneasily aware of the possibility that she was just friendly and sweet by nature. He didn’t think those blushes were all due to shyness, however. On the other hand, he didn’t mind a bit of a chase—so long as the vixen didn’t hop from the train at the next stop and hit for her home burrow. It occurred to him after a moment that that might be more of a real possibility than he’d considered when he noticed she looked a bit more uncomfortable than open to flirtation than she had before. God! What did she think he was? A gigolo? A con man? Not terribly flattering—to either of them—but he supposed, vaguely, 17

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that she might have some reason to think along those lines considering how quickly he’d moved in on her. Well, it was her own damned fault! He didn’t think he’d been getting mixed signals before. She was just unnerved that he’d taken the lure so readily. It was her misfortune that he was horny as hell and she suited his tastes very nicely! Very, very nicely! He’d gotten the chance to examine the package a good bit better once she’d settled beside him in the club car and discovered his initial assessment had been conservative. She was sexy as hell and, from what he could see, sweet and friendly and that was a very pleasant topping. Not a sign of any extra ‘baggage’ in her compartment either. If she had kiddies, and she probably did, she’d left them at home—thankfully! That seemed to suggest that she might be on the high side of thirty five, possibly closer to forty, although her skin was pretty and still smooth enough he doubted she could be any older than that—but that was all to the good. She’d had time to rear her brats and was clearly looking for adventure. Well—not necessarily what he had in mind, he amended. She was nervous— which either meant she wasn’t accustomed to picking up men—big plus!—she’d been married so long she was skittish about being seduced by a man not her husband—ditto!—or she was afraid he had evil designs in seducing her—not so wonderful and possibly a big problem! Settling more comfortably in the chair, he tried to focus on soothing whatever her anxieties were and discovering what he could about her plans. If she was staying with the train a bit, he could afford to invest a little time in the chase. If not—well, desperate times called for desperate measures. He meant to give her a tumble if there was any way in hell he could manage it. He was itching to ‘unwrap’ her and see how well he’d assessed her assets. 18

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It was a hell of a lot harder to curb his eagerness to plumb her depths than he’d anticipated, though, and hard to absorb what she was saying when his mind kept producing such tantalizing images.

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Chapter Two Contrary creature that I am, I was vastly disappointed that Giles behaved like a perfect gentleman once we got to my cabin. I was a little giddy with the attention. Alright, a lot. I was pretty sure later that I’d thoroughly supported the adage ‘there’s no fool like an old fool’! Despite my wariness and the uneasy feeling that Giles Hawthorne was playing a game that might distress me in the long run, I very quickly lost all sense of self-preservation and told him anything he wanted to know and probably a lot of things he didn’t. I dismissed the uncomfortable suspicion that I’d managed to convince him of just how starved for attention—male attention—I was when he didn’t yawn or fall asleep or suddenly remember something important he needed to do. He seemed to take it as a matter of course when the conductor came around to ask what time I’d like to dine that we’d be dining together. I still had enough sense to recall he had a traveling companion, but he brushed that aside and I began to wonder just what the relationship was between Giles and his ‘companion’. The hopeful thought that she must be a sibling, or at least a relative, died when we met for diner in the dining car. She was an attractive, very young woman—close to his age—on the low side—I was fairly sure although to my eyes she looked closer to thirteen. When did young people get to looking so very, very young, I wondered? She not only didn’t bear any familial resemblance, however, she gave me that ‘look’, the summoning up look between women when one considers the possibility that the other might be competition. I was flattered. My cup runneth over, in fact! Alright, so she dismissed me really quickly, but she did at least assess the package before she filed me under ‘not a chance in hell’!

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I had to agree with her and it was depressing. Not that she was particularly pretty to my mind. In the old days, when I was her age, I thought I could’ve safely filed her under ‘not a chance in hell’, but …. She had youth on her side and it was amazing how pretty ‘young’ looked, I thought, even when young was pretty much all one had going for one. She had a mediocre figure—mine was much better—not very good skin and an ugly nose that I had a hard time ignoring when I looked at her. It was a fairly uncomfortable meal. Penelope didn’t try very hard to be polite or include me in the conversation. In point of fact, she worked really hard to pretend I wasn’t sitting across the table and talk to Giles as if the two of them were alone. Giles had wonderful manners, however, as I’d already noted, and proved that he’d actually been paying attention to my chatter earlier. “When do you expect we’ll reach your first stop on your adventure?” he asked politely. I blinked at him, so distracted by my efforts to figure out the undercurrents between Giles and Penelope that it took me a few seconds to figure out what he’d asked. “Speaking of getting off,” Penelope broke in before I could respond, “I spoke to Lord Bromley a little bit ago. He says he can arrange to exchange our tickets and get us on an earlier flight back to London.” Giles’ good humor vanished abruptly. His face darkened, although I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “How very gracious of him,” he said neutrally. “You should take advantage of that.” Penelope looked taken aback. “I thought … that is, you said you weren’t particularly interested in lingering in New York …?” “I did say that,” he agreed. “I don’t recall that I said I intended to cut my holiday short, however.” He sent me a look I found difficult to interpret. “As it happens, Mila has put me in mind of a few places I have a burning desire to see.” 21

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Heat flashed through me, but I knew he couldn’t possibly have meant what it had sounded like! His deadpan expression seemed to support that conclusion and I chided myself for having a very fertile imagination. A wave of pleasure flickered through me as I recovered, but I couldn’t quite decide what had spawned it and didn’t actually want to examine it too closely. I was fairly certain the remark had been made purely for the sake of annoying Penelope and I didn’t really want to get into the middle of any sort of argument between them. “I should go,” I said abruptly. “I’m not certain what time I’ll be getting off tomorrow and need to check. It was so nice meeting both of you. I hope you have a very good trip home.” Giles got up, searching his pocket for a tip, I supposed, but I decided not to wait around. He caught up with me between the cars, though. “I’ll walk you back to your cabin.” I wasn’t particularly comfortable with the fact that he’d abandoned his companion to walk with me, but there didn’t seem much point in belaboring it when I’d done my best to ease the friction between them by excusing myself. I smiled at him with an effort. “Thank you. Really, I think I can find my way, though, without getting lost.” The smile he returned looked almost as much of an effort as my own had. “You might, though, and how would I live with myself?” “I’m not that bad,” I protested at his little joke. “I’ve only gotten turned around once.” “So far.” I’d meant to bid him good night at the door, but he opened it for me and I went in automatically. I didn’t actually notice the train lurching at that moment, but somehow we seemed to collide and stumble back against the wall together. “I guess I did need to be rescued,” 22

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I murmured with amusement, glancing up at him. There was no amusement in his expression—only intent—which I had a split second to register before he threw me completely off kilter by moving in too close for my eyes to focus. I felt a heated puff of breath as he expelled it and then the pressure of his mouth on mine. My skin prickled all over instantly, as if I’d been zapped by static electricity, except this was far from unpleasant. On the contrary, heat surged through me so quickly I didn’t have time to decide whether to fight it or not. My lips obeyed his command and conformed to his. He lifted away slightly, trying to decide if I meant to scream and grab him or scream and shove him away, I suppose, but apparently he decided I was fair game before I could unglue my eyelids. I felt the pressure of his mouth again and this time it totally blew what little mind I had left. A vision of Giles, of the face and form I’d found so desirable, flashed in my mind as I felt the bold rake of his tongue along mine and I had a mental and physical meltdown. Afterwards, I couldn’t recall anything that had happened with any clarity beyond pornographic images that flashed through my mind almost as if it had happened to someone else—or I’d viewed a porno. One designed specifically with women in mind where the ‘hero’ was drop dead gorgeous and the woman only average instead of the other way around. Somehow, we landed in a tangle of arms and legs and wildly skewed clothing on the narrow bed the steward had so thoughtfully put down for me while I was at dinner. I could hardly catch my breath let alone keep track of his cosmopolitan, talented hands and fingers— Russian hands and Roman fingers! He popped a breast from one cup and dove for it before I even realized I was exposed. The clamp of his mouth on the turgid tip knocked the breath from me when I’d barely managed to suck in a half a breath from the kiss—on the lips. 23

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It flickered through my mind that I hadn’t put forth any sort of protest—just to maintain a modicum of virtue! I searched my mind a little frantically for something that would sound half-hearted enough not to discourage him and dug my fingers into the silky hair on the back of his head. “Giles,” I gasped in a breathless whisper, “what are you doing?” He had his mouth full of my nipple and, I was certain, it was entirely due to his exquisite manners that he waited until he was finished and lifted his head a little to answer. “I think I may have lost something down the neck of your blouse,” he murmured huskily, searching the cleft between my breasts with his face and nose and finally moving up the slope to the twin peak. Amusement flickered through me, but it vanished as he found the nipple he’d been seeking and latched onto it with a vigor that curled my toes. “This might be it,” he added as he closed his mouth around the swollen tip and pulled hard enough my womb contracted. I was more than half mindless with the heat he’d generated inside of me by the time he’d thoroughly examined that breast for his lost ‘whatever’, but still aware enough of his progress in undressing me that it wasn’t a shock when he delved between my thighs to test the ‘waters’. He’d managed to plumb the intricacies of my slacks and shoved both the slacks and my panties down my hips far enough to explore the damp chasm and my heart was beating out a frantic tattoo of anticipation. The stroke of one long finger along my cleft diverted me from my own goal—to examine the plug he was carrying around and determine how well it might fit my outlet. I’d discovered I couldn’t reach it in any case. He was too long. Damn it! As if he read my mind, though, he obligingly shifted upward at that moment to explore my face with his lips and deposited goliath in my cupped hand. I don’t know which impressed me more, the fact that it was rock hard, or the size of it. I 24

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eagerly explored the head and strained to find the root—without success. It was like a mysterious abyss—it seemed to go on forever! “I’ve been wanting this for days … weeks … years,” he muttered distractedly as he explored my face, neck, and ear and then wowed me with another kiss. He was hungry, poor baby! Nobody had been feeding him? My heart went out to him! I’d always been a sucker for a good sob story and a beautiful, horny man was definitely a good cause! It brought my man-nurturing instincts to the fore. Obviously, he was in need of some serious TLC to consider settling for a hen when he should’ve been able to get any young fryer he wanted—and with so much enthusiasm that I could hardly catch my breath! I abandoned trying to explore him through his trousers and began a frantic search for the holy grail … uh … the holy shaft! It instantly diverted him. He broke the kiss and wrestled to unearth the joy stick, grabbing it and trying to stuff it in my outlet when my legs were still bound together as if I was in some sort of Japanese BDSM bindings. I couldn’t decide whether he was afraid I’d withdraw the offer or he was just so anxious he didn’t realize there was still an impediment to access, but there was no way goliath was going to conquer David … uh Davida … under the current circumstances! I managed to wrestle my pants to my knees so that I could bend them outward. My panties were still somewhere around the knee caps but, fortunately, they were stretchy enough managed to part my legs a little. He tried to shove goliath into my pee hole and then my ass, bypassing Davida twice! My cleft was like a slip-and-slide by that time, though, and I couldn’t decide whether the oneeyed blind man just couldn’t find the spot, if he was wasting time trying to find moisture he didn’t need, or if it was just so wet down below that he couldn’t get traction. 25

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The anxiety struck me that I was so wet he was going to fall in and slide to China if he did manage to ring the hole and might never be seen or heard from again, but, thankfully, I discovered that wasn’t the case as soon as he rang the spot and hoisted me up the bed a half a foot with his spear. I’d underestimated the size of goliath, obviously. Fortunately, my head impacted with the wall with the second push, firmly anchoring me. He stopped when he heard the bang, panting hoarsely as he lifted away to study the problem. Going up on his knees, he grabbed my panties and jerked them down, dislodging my pants at the same time. I managed to get one leg free as he grabbed my hips and dragged me down the bunk again. “Sorry,” he muttered, dropping down on top of me again the moment he’d dragged me away from the wall and stabbing at me blindly with the blunt object a couple of times before he gave up and searched the cleft for the spot. As soon as he located it by feel, he grabbed his cock and began trying to stuff it in. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re tight!” he panted. There was a time when I would’ve considered that a high compliment. I was actually a little relieved to discover it hadn’t grown up considering how long it had been, though, and it was hard to feel terribly flattered considering what he was swinging! Then, too, I was not only anxious to get plugged in and get going, by that time, I was beginning to worry that very much more effort on his part might result in no fun for me! Planting the heel of my free foot against his ass, I added my part and tried to stuff him in the next time he heaved upward. I got just enough inches to feel my heart soar with anticipation. I was so excited by that time, I knew if I could just get a couple of humps I was going to hit just the right note and make it into orbit. As luck would have it, he’d almost found the bottom when the damned train lurched and nearly threw both of us out of the bunk. He released me and grabbed for the bunk to keep us 26

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firmly anchored. I coiled around him, determined to go with him if he left the bunk. He hit bottom hard enough to make my eyes water when the train lurched in the other direction. I groaned. Either that, or success, or the fear that we were going to hit the floor galvanized him. He began pounding into me as if we were in a race against time. Fortunately, I discovered I hadn’t misread the signals my body was giving out. Within a few strokes I managed to dismiss the possibility of serious bodily injury and focus on the electrifying currents washing through me with each stroke of his wonderfully talented cock along my channel. I discovered I’d seriously misjudged his self-control, though—either that or he wasn’t nearly as on-edge as I’d thought. I came and he went—on and on until I reached a second coming. As surprised as I was that I barely hit bottom before I shot upward toward a second release, I clasped it to me fiercely and strove to reach it. The second climax made the first pale by comparison. Too mindless with the rapture to consider where I was, I sang as I began to soar. He planted his mouth firmly over mine, missed a stroke as a wracking shudder went through him, and then pumped jerkily as his body yielded up his seed. I was barely conscious when he finally stopped and sank heavily against me, gasping hoarsely for breath, but pleasure rippled through me to know that he’d enjoyed himself thoroughly enough he was dead weight on top of me and crushing the air from my lungs. I stroked his damp hair and shirt, feeling a mixture of triumph that we hadn’t spared the time to undress and a few doubts, as well. It was certainly a convincing argument in support of his comment about how long it had been for him. On the other hand, I was certain I could put his performance down to enthusiasm and driving need rather than inexperience. Not only had he seemed completely competent in knowing what buttons to push and 27

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how, but he was definitely old enough to have had plenty of experience besides being way too handsome and personable to have lacked for takers. I considered, briefly, whether my perspective was skewed due to the fact that I found him so appealing myself and decided I could dismiss that. I hadn’t been so bowled over by his good looks not to notice the other women on the train giving him interested glances and smiling at him invitingly when they thought they’d caught his eye. He didn’t lack in the beauty department and he was charming enough he could’ve been a good deal less physically appealing and still culled the cream. Which made me wonder why he’d ended up with me! Not that I lacked for confidence! I knew damned well that I had worth as a person as well as a woman and I looked pretty damned good if I did say so myself—because I’d, literally, worked my ass off to look good! But unless he was legally blind, I still didn’t look even close to his age. Maybe I looked five or ten years younger than I was, but that would still put me older than him. He had to know that, so why were lying here post coitus and sweaty with effort? I dismissed it for the time being when he finally began to show signs of life and shifted some of his weight to his arms. I suspected he would’ve bounded off of me as if he’d been catapulted if he hadn’t been too weak to manage it. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in seconds?” I said with a touch of amusement—to save face in case he was really anxious to depart. He jerked his head upwards and stared at me for a long moment. He looked so adorably disheveled my kegels clenched in reaction, shoving his flaccid cock out. Damn it! 28

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****

Relief vied with pleasure as it sank in that Mila had invited him to enjoy another round. He’d just recovered enough for it to occur to him that he hadn’t exactly displayed much polish—far from it when they both had most of their damned clothes still twisted around them! He’d begun to have a very bad feeling she was going to give him the sharp side of her tongue for it. That was what came of allowing himself to get so damned worked up! Anticipation was all very well, but he had a very bad feeling that Mila wasn’t accustomed to being ravished with so little consideration for her sensibilities. There was passion and then there was sheer stupidity! She couldn’t be too appalled at his lack of restraint if she was willing to have another go, though, could she? A crooked, self-depreciating smile curled his lips upward at one corner. He carefully disentangled himself and settled on his side beside her, studying her face. “Knowing how important first impressions are, I must say it’s damned sporting of you to offer. I must have acquitted myself better than I thought,” he murmured wryly, anchoring her against his length with one arm and one leg. “Let me make up to you immediately.”

****

Relieved that he apparently was made of stern stuff and didn’t intend to run off as if his pants were on fire, I smiled at him. “I’m not complaining.” He bent his head to nuzzle his face along the side of my neck and nipped at one earlobe. 29

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“Ah … you were singing for me, then,” he murmured, his voice shaky with amusement. “I thought as much—or at least hoped—but I didn’t dare assume.” I felt my neck and face heat. “I did? Oh god! Not loud?” “Clearly, you’re a modest woman. You have a lovely singing voice,” he said laughingly. I cast my mind back in search of a reference, but I found his nibbling very distracting. “Nothing flashy, mind you. I think we need to get these ‘feathers’ off so I can make a better assessment.” I wasn’t terribly keen on stripping down for that! It wasn’t blindingly bright in the compartment, though, and I thought the suggestion meant that I’d get the chance for a thorough examination of my own, so I helped him in his efforts to relieve me of my thoroughly rumpled clothes. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to skim out of his own. Instead, he settled to examining my body with his gaze and light touches of his hands. He met my gaze after what seemed a long, long exploration. Apparently, some of my anxiety as to whether he was pleased with what he saw or not showed. His gaze flickered over my face. His eyes were warm when he met my gaze again.

****

Surprise vied with his pleasure as Giles took the time to examine his ‘prize’. He’d been convinced Mila had a good figure, but it went way beyond merely good. His breath caught in his chest and his heart began to hammer again with desire the moment he skimmed her form, and he settled to exploring her with as much impatience as he’d had before. As soft as she was to his touch, she was taunt all over with the sort of muscles a dancer or a gymnast might have—not that he’d been with one, but the muscle 30

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definition was clearly the results of an active life—or a lot of working out. He hadn’t been with a girl that was more fit or half as beautifully formed. “You’re a beautiful woman, Mila,” he murmured huskily when he saw she was waiting a little anxiously for the verdict, dipping down to fit his mouth to hers. He’d always made it a habit to compliment his partner. It pleased them and made them feel desirable and, because it did, they responded with generosity. He wasn’t in the habit of lying, however. It wasn’t difficult to find some feature that made the compliment the truth since he wasn’t inclined to climb into bed with a woman that he didn’t find desirable in some way. In Mila’s case, he hadn’t had to search for something to please him. Everything pleased him and it flickered through his mind to wonder if she actually was single as he’d assumed she was. It didn’t seem to him that she was the sort of woman a man would discard—unless he was a complete fool! There might be plenty of fish in the sea, but there weren’t plenty of beautiful ones—or an overabundance of sweet tempered ones that he’d seen. The thought brought his own wife to mind—ex—but he managed to block that attempt by her ‘ghost’ to ‘unman’ him. There was a foul tempered one—at least she had been at any time she didn’t get her way. Actually, he wasn’t certain she could’ve ‘deflated’ his enthusiasm if she’d been in the damned room. Mila was something else and he wasn’t having any difficulty in focusing! He’d had a penchant for older women since his first when he was still at Cambridge. Their experience, enthusiasm, and appreciation more than made up for the little signs of aging and he’d learned to overlook the telltale signs that didn’t especially appeal. There was nothing to overlook with Mila, though, and it flickered through his mind to wonder if she was younger than he’d thought she was. 31

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Not that he cared one way or the other! She was hungry for attention and appreciative of his and he was more than happy to oblige! He felt a little like he’d won the lottery.

****

I wasn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination! But there was enough sincerity in Giles’ eyes and enough heat in his kiss to convince me he found me desirable and that was all I cared about. I returned his kiss with enthusiasm, feeling the heat wash through me again to my great surprise. I’d offered seconds because I thought he might still be hungry, not because I was—or at least, I’d thought I was thoroughly appeased. After all, I’d had a lovely little climax followed by Armageddon and it had been years since I’d had a climax accompanied by dick! Either he’d given me the best climax I’d ever had or I’d just forgotten had really good it felt to have one someone else gave me! I dismissed that attempt at sanity. No one had ever made me come twice—in a row—during the same bout of intercourse—not my trusty dildo or either husband—or the boyfriends in between! I was dying to discover if he could do it again! He seemed intent on giving it a try. He shoved his trousers and shorts off and peeled away his shirt. I discovered he was surprisingly smooth skinned. His dark hair had led me to expect a hairy beast beneath the façade of civilized clothing. He was slender—no surprise!—but amazingly well defined with muscle. Delight filled me as I explored him with my hands. He allowed it, but he seemed far more interested in exploring me and I was enjoying that so much I finally simply contented myself with exploring his muscular shoulders and back with my hands, and stroking my bare feet along his legs. I had no clear idea of where I was on the scale when he surged upward again 32

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and aligned his cock with my opening, but I didn’t particularly care either. I knew I’d enjoy the ride even if I didn’t reach critical mass again and explode. I felt my body respond with a leap of excitement as I looked up at his taut face and felt the probe of his flesh. He held my gaze as he surged upward in short strokes, pinning me in place with his arms as he slowly but surely claimed my channel once more with his wonderfully thick flesh. He paused when I’d finally managed to engulf him completely, staring down at my face. I wondered what was running through his mind—or if anything was. He squeezed his eyes shut abruptly and released a harsh, pent up breath. Dropping lower, he sought my mouth and I tilted my head back to oblige him. His kiss was feverish. It made my kegels flutter madly and seemed to force the breath from him. He broke the kiss abruptly and managed a handful of long, slow, deep strokes that had me quivering on the edge of climax. I forgot all about simply enjoying the ride and began to urge him to move faster by meeting each thrust. He shifted his hands to my hips, tilting them upward and pushing me over the brink with his next thrust. Mindful of my ‘singing’, I tried to muffle my cries of ecstasy against his shoulder, clutching him tightly as my crisis rattled me to the core. He slowed until it passed and then increased the rhythm once more, catching me on the way down and buoying me upward again. I found it impossible to focus much attention outwardly, beyond myself and the things he was making me feel and, because I did, I found myself rising rapidly toward another climax with a mixture of keen anticipation and even a little dread as I struggled to catch my breath. I wasn’t used to such tremendous expulsions of rapture and began to think I might pass out before I got there. I didn’t, fortunately, but darkness seemed to envelop me as the convulsions wracked me and I was a lot closer to comatose as I floated downward again than I’d ever been, hardly aware of 33

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when he came when I’d been certain there would be no impediment to enjoying feeling his climax. I blundered in and out of awareness as we lay pancaked together in the aftermath, melded skin to skin by the sweat of our labors. By the time he peeled himself free of me and settled beside me as he had before, I’d lost interest in anything but claiming the sleep teasing the fringes of my mind and since he seemed as thoroughly appeased as I was, I didn’t try to evade it once I’d snuggled in his arms. Without surprise, I discovered I was in my bunk alone when I woke. I was surprised that I was so far gone I had no idea when he’d gotten up, dressed, and left. A vague sense of disappointment flickered through me as I stirred and felt the coolness beside me instead of his hard form, but I shook it off, stared at the chink of light coming through the curtains and tried to decide whether to get up or not. It was the realization that I hadn’t gotten around to checking the time I was supposed to get off the train that day that finally decided the matter. I was pretty sure I had plenty of time, but I didn’t want to chance it when I didn’t know how well the train was keeping to schedule. I had some interesting sore places I discovered when I got up. Pausing, I rubbed the soreness along my inner thighs to loosen the muscles and then hobbled into the bathroom to shower. I felt a moment of uneasiness when I realized Giles had left a sticky deposit, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was a healthy young stallion. He’d certainly proven that! And I felt confident his enthusiasm supported his claim that it had been a very long time for him. Beyond that, he struck me as being both conservative and careful. I didn’t think I needed to be overly concerned that he’d left more than a deposit. Of course, there was always a risk with unprotected sex. I was too experienced not to know that, but I hadn’t seen anything about Giles to lead me to 34

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think he was a high risk—beyond the fact that he was exceptionally attractive, that is. The vague sense of disappointment had deepened by the time I got out of the shower and been joined by a touch of depression. I chastised myself. I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself before, during, and afterward. I couldn’t complain that he hadn’t been very generous. He’d spent most of the day before flirting and charming me. I didn’t think I really ought to complain if it had been more of a wham-bamthank-you-ma’am sort of thing. The sex had been fabulous right by itself. It had either been so long for me that I’d completely forgotten just how exciting unrestrained lust with a handsome, well built, man of experience could be or Giles was exceptional. I was inclined to think Giles was exceptional, but I didn’t think it was actually healthy to dwell on that at the moment. Later, when I had time to distance myself a little from the effects of his flirtation, I could properly appreciate it. At the moment, the light had vanished from my life as quickly as it had appeared and my emotions were threatening to take a nose dive. Like everyone else, I was greedy. Give me a little fun and I wanted a lot more! Those thoughts discomfited me on another level—reminding me that I might have to deal with ‘the day after encounter’. If I left my compartment, I was liable to run in to him and I couldn’t decide how I should act or what to expect from him. It seemed most likely, though, that we would be back to polite strangers and I shouldn’t even count on the friendliness he’d given me the day before since the hunt was over and the chase had ended. I thought that might depress me more. The steward arrived before I’d completely put myself together, though, and asked what time I wanted breakfast. Deciding once I’d discovered when I’d be getting in to the station where I’d leave the train that I couldn’t simply hide out in my compartment, I did my primping and headed to the dining car. 35

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No way, as uncomfortable as I felt already, did I want to remain close to the compartment, which wreaked of sex, and avoid the interested looks of the steward! Not that it was any of her business! I was a grown up! But I thought if I encountered any disapproving looks that it might make me more uncomfortable and I wanted to savor my encounter as much as I could. To my surprise and delight, Giles joined me in the dining car before I’d finished. Settling across from me, he ordered a cup of coffee and, after studying my face for a long moment, extended his hand palm upward—almost as if it was a peace offering. I stared at his hand for a moment and settled my hand in his, feeling warmth flow through me as he closed his hand on mine.

****

Relief flickered through Giles when Mila accepted his gesture. She’d looked so wary he’d more than half expected her to pretend she didn’t notice. Not that he could blame her. If was bad form to sneak out in the pre-dawn hours as if one was ashamed to be seen leaving. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought about that at the time, but he wasn’t certain he could convince her that he’d only had the best of intensions—not to make it blatantly obvious what they’d been up to for the gossips—assuming, of course, they hadn’t made enough noise to make it obvious already! Actually, it hadn’t been entirely a gentlemanly gesture at that, he thought wryly. There was also the thought that he might find himself unwelcome in a hurry if he didn’t keep his hands to himself. He’d thought it might be best, for him, if he avoided the temptation to wake her up for another delightful round. Naturally enough, those thoughts had led him to considering the possibility of pursuing the liaison for a bit longer when it occurred to him that she meant to get off the train. He hadn’t thought about that when he’d gotten up and left or he might 36

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have stayed and given into temptation after all. It wouldn’t be a total loss, though, if she was agreeable to his plan—in fact, he could congratulate himself on his forethought in being sensitive and thoughtful instead of kicking himself for missing another opportunity. “I had a thought. If you aren’t comfortable with it, by all means say so, but I’d thought I might tag along on your little adventure and see the sights of colonial Williamsburg.”

****

I was too stunned to speak for a moment, but although doubts flickered through my mind, I was too thrilled to examine them very closely. “I’d love that!” I exclaimed enthusiastically. The thrill abated abruptly as I recalled he’d started his trip with a different companion. “Uh … it won’t be a problem?” Something flickered in his eyes. “Not for me.”

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Chapter Three I had the horrible expectation that Penelope would appear before we got off the train and treat everyone to a hideous scene. To my surprise and relief, she didn’t, but I still wasn’t entirely comfortable. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to ask Giles about the situation. He’d arrived at the end of my allotted dining room time and there were cranky patrons lined up and waiting for my seat. “I should go,” I said uncomfortably. “I need to get my things together anyway.” “I need to make a few arrangements,” he responded, frowning thoughtfully now. “I’ve no idea what sort of time it might take. I’ll join you if I can. Otherwise, don’t count me out if you don’t see me between now and then.” Nodding agreement, though I had some doubts that he would show when it came down to the line, I dug a tip from my purse, set it on the table, and left. Despite what I’d said, I had very little to do beyond wait, and my emotions took a rollercoaster ride as I sat staring vacantly at the scenery and trying to decide what I’d gotten myself in to. I could completely understand the ‘stranger on a train’ scenario. He was on vacation, obviously, just as I was and looking for adventure. I was certain I was a long way from his first choice as an ‘adventure’, but I’d been eager and I had to suppose I’d given off all the right signals. That didn’t make me particularly happy, but I had no one to blame for that but myself and, although it embarrassed me a little to realize I must have come across as a beggar, I didn’t see much point in beating myself up about it. It wasn’t as if I was ever going to see him again once it was all over, after all! He would be an ocean away. I’d get over it and no one else need ever know.

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The one thing nagging at me—at least the most dominant—was why had he decided to join me? In my younger days I might not have questioned it. I might merely have accepted that he was enchanted with me—or at least the pussy—and had decided to follow it/me off. I’d certainly given enthusiastically, but I couldn’t entirely convince myself that I was so ‘good’ he just couldn’t resist, so why? To escape Penelope? That was the other part that was bothering me. They couldn’t possibly be married, I was sure. However well bred they both were, I felt sure there would’ve been some ugly consequences if they had been and I doubted I would’ve been spared the fallout. It seemed unlikely that they were even a couple in any sense of the word given the complete lack of animosity. So what were they to one another? And, if they weren’t together in any intimate sense, why had they been traveling together to start with? Was she an earlier pick up? Had they also met on the train, been an item for a while, and were now content enough to go their separate ways? Some of the things Penelope had said, though, had indicated that they had a mutual circle of friends or acquaintances, and that seemed to rule out that possibility. Penelope had been almost as cryptic as Giles had, but there was that comment about Lord Somebodyorother. It had thoroughly pissed Giles off. I was certain of that much, so maybe it had been the straw? They didn’t seem to have been getting along all that well before I arrived on the scene and that phone call she’d made, whatever it had been about, might have been all it took to make Giles determined to part ways with her. I didn’t see Giles and that, coupled with my own thoughts, had more than half convinced me by the time my stop was announced that I would be traveling alone. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not when the train stopped and Giles got 39

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off behind me. He gave me a quizzical look. I smiled at him tentatively and he looked relieved. It hadn’t occurred to me until he did that he might be suffering some doubts of his own. “Sorry,” he murmured as he joined me. “It took a bit more maneuvering than I’d expected. I don’t think anyone’s very happy with me … Except, hopefully, you.” Dismay flickered through me and I sent him a worried look. “You aren’t … in the dog house, are you?” He grimaced. “Could be, but that’s a worry for another day,” he said with an off-handed shrug, glancing around. “I say … this doesn’t look very colonial.” The comment distracted me and I chuckled. “I have to check in to the hotel and have them deliver the car I arranged. This isn’t Williamsburg.” “Ah!” He took my travel case from me, frowned as he ‘pressed’ it a couple of times, and looked around for a cart or a porter. Spying a porter, he deposited my small suitcase on the man’s cart and pointed out his own bags. Once we’d collected my other bags, we headed through the station and out the front and caught a taxi. It hadn’t occurred to me—because I’d spent all of my time worrying about other things—that I’d only made arrangements for myself. I spent the trip to the hotel worrying about sleeping arrangements—which was absurd, really, when I’d invited him to join me! “You won’t mind sharing a room with a complete stranger, will you?” he asked once the taxi had deposited us, making it clear that he’d been suffering some of his own doubts as he scanned the hotel I’d chosen. “I confess I hadn’t considered it—well, I had!—but I don’t have reservations.” I felt my face redden as he paid off the taxi driver before I could dig the money out of my purse. “We aren’t exactly strangers,” I muttered. 40

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He gave me a warm look that was so clearly a reference to the night we’d spent together that I felt myself heating up at the memories. “Not exactly,” he agreed. “I could still take another room, though, if you’ll be more comfortable— assuming there’s one available.” I considered the likelihood that we’d both be a little uncomfortable about sharing, but that was part of the adventure, right? “I invited you,” I reminded him quietly as a bellhop showed up, collected our luggage, and escorted us inside. “Not exactly,” he said with amusement. “As I recall, I invited myself and you were gracious enough not to give me a set down.” I stopped before we reached the desk. “Would you be more comfortable with your own room?” He considered it, frowning. “That depends …. You don’t snore or … uh … break wind, do you?” he whispered conspiratorially. I gaped at him, feeling scalding color fill my face. “Oh my god! I hope not!” He laughed. “In that case, I think I’ll be comfortable enough. As far I know, I don’t either—but I confess, you may get an unpleasant surprise. One never knows about these things, you know!” It sure as hell wasn’t the sort of thing to make me comfortable about sharing a room! Of course, I’d been married most of my life. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t fully aware of the less than pleasant side of life, but I sure as hell didn’t want him thinking of me in those terms! Maybe it was just a little too heavy a dose of reality when we were still virtually strangers? Giles settled a hand along my waist at my back and urged me toward the desk. I stared at the clerk uncomfortably a moment. “I have a reservation,” I said finally, giving the clerk the name.

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While I was still trying to gather myself, Giles pulled his wallet out and removed a card, dropping it on the desk. “There should be enough to cover the room,” he said, completely nonchalant. The clerk sent him a doubtful look as if he was wondering whether to smile at the ‘joke’ or not. “Ms. Stephens already gave us a card to reserve the room. You want to put it on this one instead?” Giles gave him a sardonic look. “Yes, that’s why I gave it to you,” he replied before I could say anything … actually do anything besides gape at him in dismay. He’d paid the taxi driver, but I didn’t have a problem with that. Fortunately, it occurred to me that men—at least the ones I was actually used to—had a way of looking at their wallet as if it was an extension of their dick. Giles was obviously from the liberated age, but I didn’t want to risk questioning the size of his ‘dick’ in front the clerk and inadvertently insulting him! The clerk flicked a glance at me and ran the card. He gave Giles a strange sort of look when he had, but he didn’t say anything. “This will be double occupancy then?” “Yes,” Giles replied cheerfully, sending me a smoldering look the clerk couldn’t fail to identify. I hadn’t actually considered the fact that I wasn’t used to staying in a hotel with a man I wasn’t married to or that it might make me uncomfortable to see speculation in the eyes of the hotel staff! The clerk focused on his computer. “Will a king size bed be acceptable?” Giles didn’t even glance at me that time. “Yes.” The bellhop took a different elevator to our floor, but there were other patrons on the elevator with us as we rode up, depriving me of any opportunity to say anything privately and, of course, the bellhop managed to beat us to the room. As soon as he’d unloaded the bags and pointed out all the amenities and departed, 42

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Giles sprawled on the bed fully clothed and gave me a smoldering look. “Want to fool around, love? Or are you anxious to be off on your adventures?” I studied him with mixed feelings, primarily amusement, but the suggestion stirred memories from the night before and a lot of warmth—and a sense of mischief. After a brief hesitation, I approached the bed and began to strip. Something flickered in his eyes, but if he was startled by my immediate capitulation, it didn’t show. Neither did he leap from the bed and begin to strip off his own clothes. He merely propped on one arm and watched me with narrowed eyes. When I placed a knee on the bed, he rolled onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head, apparently content to see what I’d do. He’d called my bluff and disconcerted me, but I decided to pretend he hadn’t. Settling on my heels, I unfastened the row of buttons along his shirt, tugged the shirt tails from his trousers, unfastened his belt and then the waist of his pants, tugging the zipper down. He caught my shoulders and pulled me down on top of him as I slipped one hand into the opening and cupped his sex. To my surprise and delight, he was already fully aroused. His cock almost seemed to leap into my hand of its own accord. His lips told me how aroused. He dragged my head close and opened his mouth over mine in almost the same movement. His mouth was hot, his lips and tongue eager and demanding as he explored mine and it made the heat already revving inside me blossom high enough to scorch me. When we broke the kiss from a mutual need for more air, we wrestled for dominance. I suppose it would be more accurate to say that he wrestled for dominance. I was just bent on exploring all those wonderful, sleek muscles beneath his smooth skin and helping him to finish discarding his clothing. We discovered we couldn’t both explore what we wanted to at the same time, however, and he exerted his 43

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dominance, rolling me beneath his weight and pinning me to the bed so that he could explore. I gave myself up to the adoration of his talented lips and hands with a whimper, so gratified I sang his praises in panting gasps. My head swam with the euphoric drugs pouring through me until I hardly knew which end was up and thought I might have fallen off the bed if he hadn’t anchored me. As ready as I was to take it to the next level, I didn’t push for the penetration. I merely coiled my legs around him and humped his belly a little frantically, dug furrows along his back with my fingertips, and gnawed on his shoulder, panting ‘please’ in a hoarse chant. He took pity and plugged both mouths at once, spearing his tongue into my mouth at the same time he plunged goliath into the nether mouth. I came immediately. Actually, to be perfectly accurate, I think I came when he flicked my clit with his cock in passing. It felt like what I’d counted as coming in the ‘old days’ anyway, before Giles had come into my life and totally rocked my world, a sizzle along the nerves that bowed my back as if I’d plugged into a 110 outlet. It was unfortunate in several ways. Firstly because, typically, it was so fast I hardly had a moment to register it let alone enjoy and secondly because the muscles along my channel locked down. He dug furrows into the bed trying to surmount ‘lock down’ and pushed me up the mattress, trapping my hair beneath my shoulders in the process. This jerked my head back at an uncomfortable angle, breaking the kiss I’d been thoroughly enjoying. Giles settled his mouth on my arched throat and shifted his grip to my shoulders, winding his arms tightly enough around me to prevent my escape with the next thrust. It buckled my spine, but he made headway, too, and, emboldened by his progress, he pumped his hips until my flesh yielded to the greater force of his. I shivered with renewed anticipation as his hard flesh slid down the throat of 44

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my sex, touching off fresh sparks that ignited my flame again. He shuddered as the muscles along my channel kneaded his lovingly. Sucking in a harsh breath, he levered himself up to his elbows. I inflated my own lungs while I had the opportunity. I didn’t want to pass out before I found glory and I was awfully close with all the huffing and puffing I’d been doing. The pace he set knocked the breath from my lungs in short, inelegant grunts. Briefly, it distracted me—the noise I was making—but he made short work of emptying my lungs and I was focused on trying to get air in them over the course of the next half dozen thrusts. Apparently, it didn’t seem to him that I was making enough progress in the right direction. He shifted positions again. Grabbing my legs, he lifted them upward and bent me double. Fortunately, it was just the right angle, apparently for both of us. Between Giles banging on my g-spot and the lack of oxygen, I came hard enough I lost all awareness—briefly. I came around again in time to feel his last grinding thrust and the jerk of his cock. Gasping for breath, he let go of my legs. They hit the bed hard enough to jolt both of us, but he seemed too far gone to notice. He rolled off of me and sprawled out on his back. I didn’t mind. I was mentally checking myself for internal injury. Relieved to discover he hadn’t actually shoved any of my ribs through my lungs and that my womb seemed to be in the right place, I relaxed and tried to calm my racing heart. He levered himself up on one elbow about the time I’d cooled to the point where I was beginning to feel like a block of ice. “Mila?” “Yes, I’m still among the living,” I murmured, having cracked one eye enough to notice a frown of concern. His lips twitched. He rolled toward me, snuggling me tightly against his length by flattening me with his weight, and nuzzled his face against my throat. 45

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“Where have you been all my life, you wonderful woman?” he murmured, teasing laughter threading his voice. It robbed the question of a single thread of romanticism! I might have been miffed except the question prompted my mind into a trip down memory lane. I decided not to point out that I’d been getting married—twice—and having—and rearing—three children! I very much feared he was probably around the age of my eldest! Of course, I supposed that beat the hell out of him being younger than my youngest! Unfortunately, I didn’t actually know. He seemed far too mature not be at least thirty, but it was hard to pin down a year or two either way—and thirty made him taboo to my mind. Which I supposed also made our encounters wildly exciting—to me! “Waiting for you dearest,” I murmured finally, deciding on tit for tat. His head jolted upward and he met my gaze. The faint amusement on his features vanished as he studied my face, however, and a frown took its place. Instead of responding to my comment, he merely grunted and rolled away. I was almost as surprised by the fact that I seemed to have left him speechless as I was by the dark cloud that skittered through his eyes before he turned away. He got off the bed and headed into the bathroom. Frowning, I listened to the water running as he cleaned up, regretting the comment even though I wasn’t sure what there was about it that had fouled his mood. Whatever it was, thankfully, he seemed to have dismissed it by the time he came out again. His lips curled when he saw I was still sprawled on the bed as he’d left me. “Unless you mean to spend the entire day in that bed you’d best get clothes on, love!” It was tempting, but the comment reminded me that I’d arranged a fairly tight schedule for my wanderings. Sighing, I got up and headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up. He swatted my bare ass as I moved past him, which startled a gasp 46

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from me and gave me a lift to my next two steps. Chuckling at the look I sent him, he turned away and surveyed the clothing scattered on the floor and bed. Leaving him to sort them, I locked myself in the bathroom and cleaned up. I was glad I hadn’t made any attempt to apply much makeup because what I had put on was a mess—and so was my hair. Unfortunately, we’d fallen upon each other as soon as we got into the room. I didn’t have any toiletries handy or even a brush. Washing what was left of my makeup off, I dried my face and finger combed enough of the snarls from my hair to make it lie down. Giles was dressed and standing at the window, staring out at the city when I came out. I called about the car I’d reserved as soon as I was dressed and then grabbed my suitcase and dug out my toiletry/makeup bag when I’d made the arrangements and returned to the bathroom to comb the snarls from my hair.

****

Giles turned from the window and watched Mila as she headed into the bath again, still wrestling with the strange mood that had settled over him. Try though he might to dismiss it, however, there was no getting around the fact that her teasing reaction to his joking comment had put him in a funk. It didn’t help when he realized he’d only been half joking when he made the remark. In point of fact, until he had, it hadn’t occurred to him that he viewed any of his little adventure with any seriousness at all. He wasn’t inclined to consider, now, that he did or that there was even a remote chance that that might change. She was a beautiful desirable woman, and warm and willing, which was all he was interested in—or thought so, at any rate. There was no getting around the fact that he enjoyed her company outside the bed, 47

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but then he wouldn’t have been inclined to pursue their liaison if he hadn’t. There was only so much a man could tolerate even for the sake of a good tumble. He dismissed it after a moment. She wasn’t looking for anything beyond a little adult recreation and neither was he. It was one of the things, beyond the mutual attraction, that had made it seem like a good idea when he’d thought of it— one of the main things about older women in general that appealed to him. She’d already experienced the marriage and babies phase of her life and wouldn’t be in hot pursuit for that—which meant they could both relax and enjoy themselves. Moving to the door she’d left open, he propped a shoulder against the door frame and watched her curiously as she dug through the bag she’d retrieved from her suitcase, applied some sort of lotion to her face, and then began dabbing on makeup. “I didn’t think you wore that stuff,” he commented.

****

“I don’t, usually—and never that much when I do—but a little never hurts, especially at my age.” I felt uncomfortable as soon as I said it, and then silly that I was uncomfortable about it. Ordinarily, I was completely comfortable with myself, but I had to suppose just being around a man so much younger was bound to bring out insecurities—or make insecurities I’d never suffered from before. His gaze flickered over me speculatively. I had the feeling that he was considering whether to ask me how old I was, but he seemed to dismiss it. Pushing away from the door, he moved up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, dipping his head to nuzzle my ear. “I like you bare.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I like you bare, too.” “Good. You’ll be seeing a lot of bare.” 48

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I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Do you want to wait here for the car? Or go on down?” His eyes gleamed. “I think we should wait downstairs,” he said ruefully. “I’m not sure I can keep my hands to myself and it would be extremely annoying to be in the middle of something interesting when the car arrived.” The comment warmed me even though I cautioned myself to take it with a grain of salt. It was nothing more than one of those flattering comments men so often made that always made women feel ‘special’ when the truth was there was no reason at all to feel particularly ‘special’ about a man’s sexual interest. Some of them were pretty picky—others not so terribly picky about where they stuck their dick—but, regardless, it was only sincere insofar as their libido went. It only meant that I was the current object of his desires and that he wasn’t tired of me yet. I supposed, with a touch of self-depreciating amusement, that that did make me ‘special’ in a way. He’d fucked me three times and he wasn’t bored yet. I must be doing something right! I didn’t think about the fact that he’d paid for the room again until we started down in the elevator. This time we had the elevator to ourselves, but I couldn’t think of a delicate way to say anything that didn’t run the risk of introducing a sour note and I didn’t want to spoil my fun. I wrestled with my conscience while we waited for the car and finally decided to broach the subject once we set out for Williamsburg. “That was really generous of you to put the room on your card, but I’d already made all the arrangements, you know.” He dragged his gaze from the view beyond the window and studied me for a long moment, long enough I began to wish I hadn’t brought it up at all. “I’d already made my own arrangements for my holiday, as well,” he pointed out. “You don’t object to me sharing the expenses?” 49

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I was relieved he was so reasonable about it and hadn’t decided I was attacking his ‘manhood’. Beyond that, it was nice to think he didn’t mind paying to be with me. “Oh! Well, I wouldn’t have said anything but you really are my guest, you know.” He settled an arm along the back of the seat and stroked the back of my neck, stirring marvelous currents in me. “Actually, I’m not. I invited myself. It’s our holiday now.” Relaxing fractionally, I flicked a smile at him. “It’ll be a lot more fun for me with a companion.” He frowned slightly. “What made you decide to set off alone? I had the impression that you’d decided you preferred traveling alone.” I bit my lip, wondering it if was just my imagination that he was suggesting I’d shaken everyone lose just so that I could fuck around! “Well, no one else actually seemed that interested… or could really afford to get away for such a lengthy trip. Anyway, I like the idea of the trip itself being a part of the fun instead of a necessary evil in getting from one place to another and no one else saw it that way.” “So … you left your … companion behind?” A touch of indignation flickered through me. I didn’t especially want to admit that I didn’t have anyone significant in my life at all and hadn’t in years. That certainly didn’t make me sound desirable! On the other hand, to suggest anything else didn’t paint me in the best light either! “I don’t actually have a companion at the moment,” I said a little defensively. “If I had a significant other I wouldn’t be gallivanting around the country without him … or having sex with you. I’m single … at the moment.” He’d been caressing my neck. At that, he squeezed it just hard enough to make it clear I’d communicated my touchiness to him. I thought it was a reflex reaction. He gentled his touch almost immediately, but I saw he was frowning 50

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when I glanced at him. “Sorry. I wasn’t implying anything … just curious—but if you’re suggesting that there was anything between me and Penelope, you’re off there.” I was keenly aware that I didn’t have the right to question him—about anything—so I didn’t. “That’s a relief,” I said mildly. “I was afraid I might’ve gotten in the middle of a lover’s quarrel.” He snorted derisively, but he didn’t explain. Damn it! Despite the tension that Q & A session brought about, and the uncomfortable silence that descended between us afterwards, the trip to reach Williamsburg wasn’t a long one and once we got there we were both able to set it aside and enjoy ourselves. At least, I know I did and I was fairly certain Giles at least wasn’t bored stiff. It was an amazing place. Having been built in the late sixteen hundreds, it was an actual colonial village, a living museum where the ‘villagers’ went about in costumes of the times and performed the trades of the times. John D. Rockefeller, Jr. had funded the restoration of the former capitol of Virginia. It was almost as thrilling to me that I’d brought along a camera to document my grand trip, which gave me a perfectly good excuse to take pictures of Giles. He wasn’t exactly camera shy, but he certainly wasn’t a camera hound, either. It took a little coaxing to get him to stand still for the camera, but he was a good sport about it. Best of all, he was determined to get pictures of the two of us together and enlisted the help of some of the other tourists and even a couple of the ‘residents’. Of course, I began to suspect he was far more interested in the opportunity to fondle me in public than he was in having our picture taken, but I didn’t mind that either. I had pictorial proof to take home with me! My daughters were going to be scandalized! And envious! 51

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It wasn’t until we headed back to the hotel late that evening that it occurred to me that my adventure was going to fall seriously flat once Giles and I parted company. I don’t know if it was a willful determination on my part not to think about it or if it hadn’t actually been a consideration before I’d spent the day wandering through history with him as if we’d stepped through a time portal. Either way, I began to feel a little glum as we headed back despite the fact that I’d thoroughly enjoyed our day together. “I’m famished,” Giles announced as the hotel came into view. “Did you have dinner planned? Or are we on our own?” I glanced at him as I pulled into the parking garage, wondering if I heard disapproval in his voice for the fact that I’d planned my trip down to the tiniest detail. “I’d thought I would just dine in the room—maybe do diner and a movie. I like to do that when I go out of town on business—at least sometimes. It makes me feel … sort of pampered. But we could go out …?” “No. That sounds good.” I wasn’t completely comfortable with that. After all, if this had become ‘our’ adventure I wanted his input. “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather do something else?” I asked tentatively as we took the elevator up. He slipped an arm around my shoulders and gathered me against him. “Too late. By ‘comfortable’, I meant naked, and I’ve already made plans to ravish you between courses.” As tired as I was from walking for hours, that perked me right up. As soon as we got to the room, we pored over the menu and then I ordered the food while Giles grabbed the ‘scepter’ and studied the movies available. I discovered when I hung up that he was examining the ‘adult’ offerings. He sent me a quizzical look and chuckled at my expression. “You don’t want a ‘mood’ piece?” “I’m not sure what sort of mood Raunchy House Wives taking it in Ass would put me in,” I said a little dryly. 52

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He laughed outright at that. “A romantic comedy?” I curled my lip in distaste. “Hollywood’s idea of a romantic comedy and mine rarely coincide. They don’t have any action flicks?” He looked a little surprised. “You want to watch a bunch of alpha males trying to rip each other’s heads off over diner?” I frowned. “You don’t like action movies?” He shrugged. “Blood, gore, and grunting? Sure! I just didn’t think you’d be in to that.” I smiled at him. “Oh I love watching muscular men sweating and grunting,” I said teasingly. He sent me a look and tossed the remote to the bed. A look of intent entered his eyes as he started toward me. “In that case, I have a more interactive play in mind.” Laughing, I darted toward the bathroom. “Not before I’ve taken a shower!” He caught the edge of the door before I could slam it. “We should conserve water,” he murmured huskily. “I’m very in to conservation.” I certainly wasn’t against the idea. I don’t know how much water we conserved, however. We fondled one another with warm soapy water until we heard a knock on the door. By that time, I’d forgotten all about the food I’d ordered and I looked at Giles wide eyed. “Who do you suppose that is?” “Food!” He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he left the bathroom. I shut the water off and got out, mildly disappointed that the arrival of the food had deprived me of the chance at shower sex. I’d never done ‘it’ in the shower and had been toying with the idea—a lot. Giles returned wearing one of the robes the hotel provided and carrying one for me. It wasn’t until I’d slipped into it and followed him that I discovered he 53

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meant to sit down to dinner in the robe. Shrugging inwardly, I followed suit, keenly conscious of the fact that we were both naked. But then Giles had said that, by comfortable, he meant naked! It was almost strange how keenly aware I was of being naked beneath the thick robe!

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Chapter Four We had both avoided discussing anything too personal in our short liaison— probably for different reasons. I knew Giles couldn’t possibly doubt that I was a good bit older than him and I wasn’t actually trying to convince him otherwise. On the other hand, I certainly didn’t see any benefit in constantly reminding him either and most anything personal that I’d brought up would have emphasized that gulf. I didn’t know if that was part of the reason Giles didn’t talk about anything personal or not—that he also didn’t want to emphasize the difference in our ages—or if he had other reasons, but I felt as if I’d been warned away from prying. That limited our conversations to the impersonal, but I’d never had any problem chatting, especially when I was nervous and I was wired around Giles most of the time! All I needed was a little inspiration and, fortunately, we had a mutual experience to rehash over dinner. Between the promise, the shower, and sitting around naked, I was really churning by the time we’d finished eating. I collected the dishes when we’d finished and headed out to place the tray outside the door. When I’d disposed of it, I discovered Giles had claimed the remote again, taken up residence in the middle of the bed, and was examining the offerings. Shrugging inwardly, I climbed into bed with him, stacked a mound of pillows up, and settled to reading the movie descriptions as they were displayed. I saw a couple that would’ve interested me a lot more if I hadn’t had other things on my mind, but I decided to allow him to pick the movie. When he’d finished scrolling through, we turned and looked at one another questioningly. “Did any catch your fancy?”

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“Did you see anything you’re interested in?” I asked at almost the same moment. “You choose.” “Nope! Your choice. I’ll pick next time,” I said emphatically. Shrugging, he chose a science fiction/horror. I suspected he’d done it because he’d noticed I was interested. “All right!” I said enthusiastically. When he’d ordered, he dropped the remote to the bed and rolled toward me, jerked the top of my robe open, and settled to exploring my breasts with his mouth. My body responded instantly with more than passing interest. “I thought we were going to watch a movie,” I said teasingly. “I have to have something to nibble on,” he quipped, “and we don’t have popcorn.” I released a sigh that was a mixture of defeat and pleasure as I studied his face. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t watch the movie any time, after all, and I wasn’t going to be able to watch him pulling at my breast much longer. He released my nipple with an exaggerated sucking noise. “I think, maybe, that’ll hold me a bit,” he murmured, returning to his previous position. I repressed a smile, wondering if he thought he’d teased me enough I couldn’t contain myself. “Nothing you see that you want to nibble on?” he asked, having unearthed his dick and wagging it at me. Deciding to play his game, I sat up and leaned over his lap, sucking the head his cock for a few moments, and then released it abruptly and sat up when I heard the opening music. “Oh! It’s starting!” I exclaimed, settling back and peering at him out of the corner of my eye. “Cheeky,” he muttered. “Hmmm?” “Cheeky bastard popped right out to have a look. Did you see that?” 56

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“I missed that,” I lied. “Whose knob did you think you were polishing, I’d like to know! And while we’re on that subject, you didn’t polish it nearly as well as it needed.” “I’ll polish it later,” I promised, patting his thigh. He pulled his dick out again and studied it seriously. “Hear that, old chap? I think you’re being taken for granted.” I released a vaguely irritated breath. “Giles! Are we going to watch the movie or not?” “Fine! But see if I let you polish my knob later!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or clobber him. I batted my eyelashes at him. “Pretty please?” His lips twitched. “No! He’s wounded. He’s gone back to hide and sulk.” “Let me see,” I demanded in disbelief. He clamped his hands over it, refusing to allow me to pull his robe open. I climbed across his lap and caught the lapels of his robe, jerking the top open. When I reached for his ribs to tickle him, he grabbed my wrists in a surprisingly steely grip. Before I quite knew what had happened, he’d tipped me backwards onto the mattress. Manacling my wrists to the bed on either side of my shoulders, he nuzzled my robe out of the way and divided his time between my nipples, sucking on each until I’d completely lost interest in the movie. Then he released me abruptly and sat up again. “Behave yourself, woman! I’m trying to watch a movie here.” I drew my knees up and fanned my thighs slowly open and then closed. He made a pretense of ignoring me, but the second time I fanned my legs wide, he dove at me and pinned them open. He sent me a smoldering look as he explored my cleft with his hand. “You’re a cheeky tease in need of a hard lesson,” he murmured. “I am,” I agreed. 57

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Using his shoulders to hold my legs wide, he lowered his head toward my mound. That wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind! I was pretty sure I wasn’t comfortable enough with him, yet, to let him put his face in my pussy! The moment I tried to sit up, however, he wound his arms around my legs and caught my wrists, effectively pinning me. My heart hit mock five before he ever touched me. The moment I felt the heat of his mouth, it knocked the breath out of my lungs. I should’ve been prepared. Any man that could get me as close to coming just from kissing me as Giles could, would have to be good at that! The flick of his tongue took the starch out of every muscle. The sense of playfulness that had gripped me before completely abandoned me. Inside of two minutes I was so close to coming I felt like I was going to melt. And then he stopped. That blew my mind more than the tortuous tease of his tongue! I lay panting for breath, trying to figure out what had happened. Uncoiling his arms from my legs, Giles caught my wrists again and hauled me up, planting a hot, wet kiss on my lips. Now, ordinarily, I wasn’t into ‘me’. I was pretty sure if I’d had possession of enough brain function I would’ve objected, but I was putty in his hands and the kiss was hot enough that I didn’t care that I could taste me on him. The kiss ended almost as abruptly as the kiss on the nether lips had. Giles tucked me into his arms and settled to watch the movie already in progress, plucking almost absently at my nipples. Irritation flickered through me. “Giles! You’re a total asshole!” I said with as much heat as I could muster. He chuckled huskily and sucked on my ear, lifting a flock of goosebumps that made me shudder. “I’m just keeping you warmed up for after the movie,” he murmured, laughter threading his voice. He kept me so warmed up I didn’t have a fucking clue of what the movie was about and couldn’t have cared less, teasing me unmercifully every time I began to 58

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cool down a little. I was tempted to tease him—actively—but despite my own misery, I was well aware that he wasn’t immune. He didn’t need me to tease him. He was doing a fine job of it himself! The very moment the credits started rolling, he turned the TV off, dragged me down on the bed and picked up where he’d left off earlier. I was torn. He’d kept my engines at high rev throughout the movie and it had felt so very good to feel his mouth on me that I wanted more in the worst kind of way. On the other hand, the climaxes he’d given me with deep penetration were totally off the chain and I wasn’t sure I wanted to trade a clitoral climax for a deep one. He didn’t actually give me a choice. Once he’d latched on to my clit, he held me down and sucked and teased it until I not only came, I kept coming until I was screaming hoarsely. I shuddered all over when he finally lifted his head and climbed up me, so keenly sensitive it was closer to pain than pleasure when he stopped to suckle my breasts. I gritted my teeth and allowed it instead of trying to escape—which was what I wanted to do! He hadn’t gotten his cookie, though, and, despite the comment about me being a tease, I wouldn’t have considered refusing him if it actually had been sheer torture. It was close and penetration was a real bitch. The muscles along my sex were still clamped so tightly around the ‘nothing’ that had been present during the mind blowing climax that I was beginning to think penetration wasn’t in the cards! I deeply regretted that I hadn’t brought him off with my mouth as he had me, but then he’d refused to allow it when I’d tried to shift into a position where I could. By the time he managed to stuff me down over his cock, we were both shaking all over, wet with sweat, and breathing like asthmatics about to go into cardiac arrest. I groaned as soon as he managed full penetration and began pumping, because I could feel the tension coiling inside me again and I wasn’t sure I could take another climax like the one I’d already had. 59

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Fate answered my plea. I didn’t have one like the one I’d already had. It was much harder! Giles uttered a guttural groan and drove deep as I began howling, shuddering and pumping into me in hard jerks. I still managed to enjoy the full range of my own climax. I was still shuddering with it when Giles melted heavily on top of me, huffing in my ear and making my skin pebble all over. Gathering himself after a moment, he rolled off and sprawled on the bed on his back. “Am I bleeding?” he asked after a few moments, amusement threading his voice. “Wha …?” I asked vaguely. “I think you took the hide off my back.” That penetrated the fog. I sat up abruptly and gaped at him. “I scratched you?” I gasped in disbelief, struggling to capture the memory. “Bit me, too.” I blinked at him. “I didn’t!” His lips curled up at one corner. “I didn’t realize I was in to masochism. It was touch and go there for a bit when you started shredding my back, but the bite … That blew my mind. I don’t think I ever came so hard in my life. I may need to get my heart checked for damage.” I’d never done that! I was still inclined to think he was teasing me, but I saw I’d sucked a love-bite on his shoulder—what we’d called a hickey in the old days—back during cowboy and Indian days when I was a child! Ok, so maybe there was a little bruising from my teeth around it, but I hadn’t broken the skin. I discovered when I’d made him roll over, though, that I’d definitely left a few welts on his back. Dismay filled me. “I am so sorry, baby! I didn’t realize ….” Grinning at me, he hooked an arm around me and dragged me down against his chest. 60

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He shook his head at me. “I was teasing you, love,” he murmured. “I’m not complaining. Like I said … total wipeout.” It had wiped me out, too. Almost as soon as I relaxed, I began to drift away and Giles hit blackout before I did. Feeling inordinately pleased about that, I joined him in dreamland. I suppose, as a grand finale, it couldn’t actually be beat, but I began to feel glum almost as soon as I surfaced the next morning and heard Giles in the shower. It took me a few moments to figure out why I felt so glum when my first memories were of the glorious double whammy I’d had the night before. Unfortunately, it dawned on me fairly quickly, though, that Giles and I would be parting company that day. Sighing, I got up and headed to the coffeemaker. I’d managed to put the coffee on and get through washing and moisturizing my face and brushing my teeth before Giles came out. A cloud of steam followed him. He was still dripping, his hair slicked to his head. He had a towel around his waist. My heart stuttered as he smiled lazily. “Good morning, love,” he murmured huskily. I smiled back at him. “The coffee should be ready pretty quick if you want some.” “Ah! A woman after my heart!” he said, moving closer, pulling me into his arms, and nuzzling my neck. The air conditioning had already chilled the water on his skin and hair and it sent a shiver through me as it dripped down my bare back. His whiskers as he gnawed a trail up to my mouth, lifted gooseflesh. “You smell good enough to eat.” I chuckled. “I imagine it’s the coffee.” He nuzzled my face. “Smells a bit more minty than that,” he said, amusement threading his voice. 61

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“That would the toothpaste.” “No sense of romance,” he murmured with a chuckle. “I don’t suppose I could coax you back to bed for breakfast?” I gnawed at his scratchy jaw. “You could coax me anywhere.” He lifted his head and met my gaze. “Could I?” I shook my head at him. “I think you know I’m total pushover where you’re concerned.” Something flickered in his eyes. “Dangerous words. You should never tell a man that.” He said it teasingly and yet I saw something in his expression that gave me pause … and then I ignored it. “I haven’t told any man that … except you,” I said lightly, reaching up to pat his cheek and then pulling away. “I need a shower!” He released me with a sigh. “You just promised breakfast and now you’re dashing off. I see how much your promises mean!” “I need a shower and then coffee just to get my heart going. You don’t want a zombie, do you?” He grinned. “Interesting … I might like to try that sometime. I think I’m rather partial to the tigress that bit me last night, though.” I felt my face redden at the reminder and flicked a glance at the ‘bite’, wincing when I saw it was darker than it had been last night. “God! That looks awful today!” He examined it in the mirror and flicked a heated look at me. “I believe I’ll have to retaliate. I have it in mind to leave a string of them from here to here,” he murmured, touching the side of my neck and drawing a line with his finger across one breast, down the center of my belly to my mound. He slipped a hand between my legs and touched my upper thighs. “And maybe a matching set here and here.” I discovered I didn’t need the shower or the coffee to rev my engines. “Now?” I asked hopefully. 62

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He chuckled and gave one cheek of my ass a squeeze. “Go get your shower, love.” Mildly disappointed about being dismissed so cavalierly after that kind of promise, I headed in for a shower. Giles was dressed and striding around the room searching for discarded articles by the time I got out. I wasn’t surprised to see he was anxious to get on the road, but I was a little disappointed. We did need to get going, I reminded myself. “When do you need to be in New York to catch your flight?” I asked as casually as I could while I looked through my suitcase for something to wear. When he didn’t answer, I lifted my head to look at him questioningly. I discovered he’d paced to the window to stare out. Wondering if he just hadn’t heard me, I dropped my towel and put on my underclothes. I discovered as I pushed my head through the knit T I’d chosen that he’d turned to study me. “No particular rush,” he responded neutrally. “I’ll have to change out my tickets anyway. I have a little business I have take care of while I’m there. How long will it take to drive from here?” “Nine hours according to the travelling directions I got off line.” “Good god! Are you serious?” For once there wasn’t any teasing amusement in his voice and I glanced at him in dismay. “We might be able to cut a little off if we don’t make any stops.” He frowned. “I thought you meant to stop in Philadelphia?” Surprise flickered through me. He’d been flatteringly attentive when I’d been gushing enthusiastically about my trip, but it certainly hadn’t occurred to me that he would remember every detail! Uneasiness flickered through me for some reason that I couldn’t entirely grasp. 63

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“I’d planned to, but it’s not that important. If you need to be in New York, we’ll go straight through.” “And ruin your holiday? Nothing doing!” I chuckled. “It isn’t that important. I just figured I’d take it easy going up and it’s on the way. I’ve never been there. I thought I’d take in a few of the historical sites.” He smiled abruptly. “You’re a real history buff, aren’t you?” I felt my face redden and wondered if he thought it was because I was ‘antiquated’. I shrugged. “I guess so. Mostly I was just sort of thinking along the lines of getting kind of an overview of the country—getting a ‘feel’ of it, if you know what I mean.” He strode toward me. Slipping his hands around my waist, he cupped my buttocks and drew my pelvis against his, bumping me slightly. “Hmmm … I think, maybe, I do. I like getting a feel for things, too.” I shook my head at him. “Well, I hadn’t expected to meet you … or planned to fuck my way across country. I figured I’d see something besides the countryside, cityscapes, and hotel rooms. That’s all I usually see when I’m on a business trip.” He uttered a bark of a laugh, but it lacked his usual humor. “That’s good to know, anyway.” I frowned when he turned away, wondering what he’d meant by the remark. It had certainly sounded like a judgment to me. Maybe I was being hypersensitive, though? It angered me, despite the fact that I wasn’t at all certain that he’d meant what I thought he had. I toyed with the idea of giving him an ear full, but I was reluctant to fight as much because I didn’t want it to spoil my vacation as I was to run him off by treating to him to my temper. If it wasn’t just like a man to make the damned assumption that it was a ‘habit’ with me… just because I’d let him get in my pants! I’d always thought it 64

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was strange that men had such colossal egos and yet it never seemed to occur to them that a woman might consider them special! I realized it was going to spoil things for me if I kept my resentment bottled up just as surely as it would to voice it and start a fight. “I’m not in the habit of picking up strange men …whatever you think,” I finally said tightly as I turned to the task of repacking my suitcase. “In point of fact, I never have before.” I could feel his gaze as I stalked across the room to gather up my toiletries and toss them in my bag. “I didn’t mean to insult you.” My lips tightened. “I suppose you thought it wouldn’t to imply I’m a whore?” “I wasn’t implying that.” I glanced at him angrily. “You were. I just can’t decide whether you hadn’t actually thought of it that way or if you think I’m too stupid to grasp the insinuation.” “You’re single. You’ve as much right to enjoy the freedom as anyone else.” I stopped and met his gaze unflinchingly. “True, I do. And I don’t happen to think it makes me any more of a whore to do so than it does a man. The fact remains, however, that I’m damned particular about who I have sex with!” Anger glittered in his eyes but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “Are you, now?” “I are!” I snapped. He chuckled abruptly and approached me. Grasping my shoulders when I would’ve jerked away, he met my angry gaze. “I’ve done it now, haven’t I? Do you mean to give me the boot?” “And leave you stranded?” I gasped, indignant about that suggestion, as well. “I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy … especially when you’re a foreigner.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s not as bad as that, surely?” I struggled with my temper and managed to tamp it. “No. I’m just pissed.” 65

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“You mean to give me the cold shoulder from here on out, then? Even if I beg pardon?” I sighed. “I don’t want to fight.” He grinned abruptly. “That makes two of us, then. Let’s get our things together and head out, all right?” I nodded, still struggling with the residual anger. It wasn’t until we were heading out of town that it occurred to me that the main reason it was such a struggle to dismiss the argument was because it had hurt to realize he looked at me that way. I supposed, in all honesty, I deserved it. I’d been a total pushover. I’d been so thrilled that we clicked—or at least that I clicked with him and he’d been obliging—that I hadn’t wasted any time taking him up on his offers. I’d worried that he would think I was easy—because I was!—but I hadn’t actually considered how it must look from his viewpoint. Clearly, he thought I’d set out on my trip with the intention of fucking my way across the continent! I seriously doubted he’d believed my disclaimer and that depressed me even though I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. And it didn’t. This was nothing more than a sexual adventure to him, I was sure, and it wasn’t likely I would ever see him again after we hit New York. Why should it matter to me what impression he took back with him to England? I was diverted from my sulks by my stomach by the time we reached Philadelphia. I’d had the foresight to bring along an electronic navigator, however, and it took us directly to the hotel I’d booked for the night. It was still too early to check in when we got there so we parked the car and wandered around the downtown area until we found a place to eat lunch. Despite the fact that the damned waitress flirted with Giles outrageously, I was in a far better mood once I’d eaten. Giles slipped an arm around me as we headed back to the hotel. He kept casting amused glances at me. “Mental note,” he murmured ruefully, “Mila’s temperamental when she’s hungry.” 66

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Embarrassed, I grimaced. “I suppose you’re always sunny when you’re hungry?” We both knew my foul mood had nothing to do with hunger so I didn’t see any sense in bringing it up again. “Nope! I’m a bear!” I smiled, but I studied him with a touch of surprise as a sudden thought occurred to me. “I think you’re the most even tempered person I’ve ever met.” He nodded wisely. “It’s the Brit in me. Very civilized.” There was a touch of arrogance in the comment. “As opposed to us uncivilized Americans, I suppose?” “You’ve a chip on your shoulder! Here I am confessing that I know Brits are known for their cold natures, and you’re taking offense! As it happens, I’m rather taken with your …wildness.” Calculated or not—and I wasn’t sure if it was or not—the reference to our wild sex the night before definitely warmed me. It embarrassed me a little, too, but there was no getting around the warmth it generated. “One of us had to be passionate,” I said teasingly. He sent me a look. “That was a low blow!” I laughed, feeling my good humor completely restored. “I was only agreeing with you,” I said innocently. “Well, you were supposed to protest my modesty!” he said tartly. “I like your hidden depths.” His eyes gleamed. “I’m rather fond your … uh … depths, as well.” “Well, if they’ll let us check in, maybe we could while away the afternoon exploring each other’s depths?” “Nothing doing! You’ll be throwing it in my face that you missed exploring some crumbling ruin or other! In any case, Fredrick the II is wounded now. I doubt even you could convince him to come out and play.” 67

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“Fredrick the II?” I asked, trying not to laugh. “Noble!” “Actually, he is—very noble. That’s Sir Fredrick to you, mind you! He’s a Brit. We all have titles, you know.” “He’s fainted, huh? I could try resuscitation—mouth to … uh mouth is usually beneficial.” A mixture of heat and amusement flickered in his eyes. “Tempting, but no. I’m going to sulk … uh … brood a while.” He produced his card again when we checked in. I was surprised enough it took me a moment to recover. “I thought we were going to split?” I said quietly when the clerk disappeared with his card. He nuzzled my ear. “Yes, well it’s a very nice split, darling, but don’t be broadcasting it.” “Giles!” I exclaimed, shocked. Feeling my face heat, I looked around quickly to make sure nobody had overheard him. He chuckled. “You don’t take compliments well, love. You’re supposed to say, ‘thank you, Giles’.” I sent him a look. “Thank you, Giles,” I said dutifully. His eyes were warm when he met my gaze. “There’s a good girl,” he murmured. “I like my women warm and obedient.” I shook my head at him. I wasn’t comfortable with his determination to pay the bill, but I didn’t think it was worth another argument. It wasn’t as if he could get the wrong idea about me, after all! Actually, it had already been brought home just what kind of ‘girl’ he thought I was, but as unhappy as that made me it was my own damned fault and I didn’t think it was likely that I could repair the damage now. Telling myself that he was on vacation and would have expected to pay all of his expenses didn’t sooth my conscience much. So far the division of the tab was decidedly one-sided. 68

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I decided I’d just wait until we parted company to settle it more evenly. That way, even if we had a fight about it …. It would still spoil things, I realized in dismay. At the very least, I wanted him to have warm memories of me when he left. Of course, that might give him the entirely wrong impression of American women in general, but I didn’t feel up to representing my fellow countrywomen at the moment—or at all! It was my damned vacation! If I wanted to spend it following British dick around, by damn, I would! Especially since Giles had such a nice one! Life was never going to be the same, I thought glumly as we headed up to our room. Giles dragged me down on the bed as soon as the bellhop disappeared. “All right! If you’re going to sulk about it, I’ll let you resuscitate Sir Fredrick!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with laughter. “I had my heart set on seeing Liberty Hall and the Independence Bell, but if you insist ….” I couldn’t help but smile. “Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell,” I corrected him, knowing he’d deliberately transposed it. “And they aren’t moldering ruins!” “Whatever,” he said flippantly, releasing me and falling back, his arms spread in surrender. “Take me! I’m all yours! Just be gentle!” Ah! The temptation to wipe that cocky grin off his face! I’d never had any trouble at all ignoring that sort of challenge, but I figured the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall had been around a very long time before I’d arrived and would be around a lot longer. Giles wouldn’t be. I shifted closer and reached for his belt. “I thought you liked my wildness?” “Ah … well, I have to warn you he’s a very sensitive fellow. He’s liable to go into hiding if you get too rambunctious.” 69

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Having unbuckled his belt, I tugged the zipper down without unfastening the waist and used my fingers to push the fabric of his pants and shorts apart. After peering with exaggeration into the ‘cave’ of his clothing with one eye, I put my mouth to it. “Hello? Sir Fredrick? Come out, come out where ever you are!” He folded his arms behind his head, grinning down at me. “I told you he was sulking. You may have to do a little more coaxing than that.” I smiled at him slowly. “Mouth to mouth?” His eyes narrowed, his expression growing taut. His cock stirred. I reached into his pants, closing my hand around his cock and carefully guiding it through the opening. “He’s such a handsome fellow!” I murmured appreciatively. Lowering my head, I took the head of his cock into my mouth, stroking my hand along the length as I sucked the rounded knob. I smacked my lips when I removed it from my mouth. “He tastes good, too.” I settled more comfortably. With slow deliberation, I took him into my mouth again, exploring the head thoroughly before I took more of it into my mouth. Reaching to capture his balls in my other hand, I massaged them gently while I continued alternately stroking his shaft with my hand and sucking on it. My first indication that my torture was working was when he released an explosive breath and grabbed my head. I looked up at him with mock innocence and saw he was watching me, his eyes tumultuous. “Not gentle enough?” “God! You’re killing me, Mila.” Repressing the urge to smile in triumph, I returned my attention to his dick and continued to torture him until he couldn’t be still any longer. When his hips began to lift, I decided I’d tortured him long enough. I’d decided fairly quickly that I wanted to bring him off. I was still debating whether I wanted to let him come in my mouth or not. I’d tried it a couple of times 70

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with husband number two, because he’d insisted, but I hadn’t particularly cared for it—which meant it shouldn’t have occurred to me at all. The fact that it had was significant, but I didn’t want to examine that too closely. In any case, it was a fairly short debate. I was excited enough fairly quickly that the idea appealed to me a lot—and it wasn’t just because I wanted to give him something memorable. He did taste good. It excited me to feel him in my mouth and feel his rising excitement. I began to push him toward a release, feeling my own anticipation mount as if I was nearing climax, as well. When he abruptly grabbed the root of his cock, squeezing it, I pushed his hand away and sucked harder. He uttered a choked grunt and I felt his cock jerk in my hand. His seed filled my mouth. I swallowed, discovered it didn’t make me gag—in fact excited me—and pulled harder. He finally gripped my head hard enough I realized I’d sucked him dry and released his now flaccid member. Climbing up the bed, I propped my head in my hand and studied his face. “I don’t think Sir Fredrick likes me. He spat at me.” Giles uttered a choked laugh and opened his eyes. Lifting one arm with obvious effort, he draped it around my shoulders and pulled me down on his chest. I nuzzled his neck. “Not true,” he said lazily. “He told me you and he were friends for life.”

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Chapter Five I knew Giles was joking and yet the moment he said it I felt my chest tighten uncomfortably. “As long he isn’t still pissed off with me,” I said as neutrally as I could manage. “Ah! There’s the rub! He’s happy now, but Fifi is no doubt feeling neglected.” “Fifi?” “Yes … the charming wench with the curly red hair?” I connected the dots. “Sir Fredrick’s been in and out of Fifi’s door enough lately she isn’t feeling the least bit neglected.” “Well that’s a damned shame! Tired of the bloke already?” I lifted my head and met his teasing gaze. “I think you know better than that.” Leaning closer, I kissed him on the lips, lightly, and then smiled. “He can make it up to her later.” We decided to walk since we’d both spent so much time riding lately and the concierge told us the sights we were interested in were within walking distance. Despite the late start, we managed to explore everything of interest at our leisure and then headed back to the hotel. “What do you fancy for dinner?” I chuckled. “I don’t know how you stay so trim when your mind is obviously on your stomach most of the time!” “Not true. It’s generally on my dick, but Sir Fredrick is supremely satisfied these days so all that leaves is the stomach.” I took that as a very good compliment. “Thank you, Giles.” He sent me a questioning look.

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“You said I didn’t handle compliments well,” I reminded him. “I’m thinking French. I’ve never been to a French restaurant and that’s on my list.” He sent me a curious look. “List?” “New things to experience.” His frown deepened. “Now you’ve got me worried.” I looked at him questioningly for several moments before it dawned on me that he’d misunderstood my wish list. “That is so sweet, Giles! I didn’t mean it like that, though. I’m fine, really I am! It isn’t a … bucket list. There’s just so many things I’ve never done and wanted to. I don’t want to get old and think about all the things I never did. “Not that I have that much to complain about anyway,” I added, returning my attention to the sidewalk in front of us. “I’ve been married twice— nobody can say I didn’t give that a thorough try! And I’ve got three wonderful daughters and ….” I halted abruptly, realizing I’d gotten so carried away I’d almost mentioned the ‘grand’ word. Shaking my head at myself—like he couldn’t tell I was old enough!—I spilled it. “And three of the most darling grandchildren anybody could hope for.” Giles put on brakes so abruptly it jerked me to a halt. “Grandchildren?” I bit my lip. Ok, so maybe he hadn’t noticed! “You’re appalled.” He blinked. “No. Just surprised.” Stunned more like it! I stared at him unhappily, but I realized it was probably just as well. “I’m the same person I was five minutes ago,” I said after a long moment. He shook his head as if trying to shake off a trance. “I’m just surprised … that’s all.” I could tell he was more than surprised, but as much as it hurt, I also saw that I had to be fair about it. I couldn’t lie to myself and say I hadn’t deliberately 73

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withheld the information because I’d been afraid it would chase him away. “You knew I was older than you,” I said after a few moments. “I thought so,” he said, his voice a little tight. He was pissed off. I hadn’t expected him to be angry about it! The fact that he was made me feel guilty—as if I’d committed the worst kind of deception!—and, unfortunately, it also made me feel defensive. As if it mattered that damned much that he’d been enjoying aged pussy! He damned well couldn’t complain about the quality when he’d clearly been enjoying himself! We continued the walk in silence, finally ending up at the hotel again before he seemed to emerge enough to notice his surroundings. He stared up at the façade of the hotel for a moment and finally met my gaze. “How much?” I blinked at him, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was asking. I was tempted to demand to know how the hell I was supposed to figure that out when he hadn’t told me how old he was. “How old are you?” I asked as mildly as I could. In all honesty, I was a little shocked myself when he told me. I hadn’t realized …. I’d thought he was around thirty, but I’d been thinking more along the lines of thirty to thirty five! Men always looked younger than they were—most of the time. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, debating whether to lie or not. I finally decided nothing short of complete honesty at this point was acceptable. He looked a little sick when I told him. I bit my lip, determined not to cry. “I need to clear my head. I think I’ll take a walk.” Nodding, I left him standing in front of the hotel and swiftly crossed the lobby to the elevator. By the time I turned around, he’d disappeared. I managed to make it all the way to the room before I burst into tears. I hadn’t expected it to matter that much! What difference did it make, really? We were just 74

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having fun. Weren’t we both two consenting adults? It was just a sexcapade, damn it! Why did it matter? It mattered because he felt betrayed. I knew that was it as much as anything else. It wasn’t fair! I hadn’t set out to deceive him—anyone at all! I’d worked hard to get in shape for me, to make me feel good about myself—and he’d damned well guessed I was older than he was! There was no way I was going to believe he’d gone into it completely blind! With the best will in the world to deceive myself and every effort to look my best, I knew damned well that I looked like a well preserved forty at the very least! I managed to cry myself to a point of exhaustion and fell asleep. I was roused some time later by the sound of the door opening. I knew it had to be Giles and I debated briefly whether to keep on pretending I was asleep or not, but I was sure he’d come to collect his things and I thought I ought to at least apologize for deceiving him even though I hadn’t meant to. It startled me when I rolled over and discovered he was standing beside the bed. He met my gaze for a long moment and then began to peel his clothes away. I stared at him with a mixture of hopefulness and doubt. When he’d undressed, though, he climbed into bed with me and gathered me into his arms. “I’m sorry as hell, love. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, fitting his mouth to mine and kissing me delirious. I was so relieved I felt like crying all over again. The heat surging through me managed to dispel the urge, though. A sense of desperation replaced it—that and my eagerness to apologize. I didn’t believe he’d forgiven me so easily, but I wanted to. I was more than a little afraid that the knowledge might make it hard, or impossible, for him to get ‘it’ up for me. Thankfully, I saw that wasn’t the case when he released me abruptly and sat back on his heels. His cock was already 75

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jutting from his belly like a lance, the skin so taut it was shinny. Grasping the fastener on my jeans, he unfastened them with a little more force than I thought strictly necessary, jerking the zipper to the bottom. Digging his fingers into the waist, he jerked my jeans and panties off, tossing them aside and diving over me. It wafted through my mind that something wasn’t entirely ‘right’ with the picture, but the need in Giles’ touch drove it to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think and I didn’t want to. Later, I thought it might have been the very fact that I had submerged myself so completely in my senses that I noticed the subtle difference in Giles’ touch … and it was subtle, so much so that doubts arose almost at once that I’d correctly interpreted them. As playful as he was in general, however, he was in command in bed. That had been obvious from the first and I certainly hadn’t had any interest or desire in challenging that. He’d never left me wanting—far from it—and I had no need to exert my own will. I was all too happy to leave everything to him. The difference this time, I think, was that he wanted me to acknowledge it verbally. He teased me until I began to beg him to enter me before he did and, whereas before, it had seemed purely by accident that I usually came twice, nothing less would do for him this time. I certainly couldn’t complain that I wasn’t thoroughly satisfied and yet when I came the second time, rather than seeking his own release, he slowed and then stopped. Withdrawing, he guided me onto my belly and then my knees and then entered me again. Building the tempo until he was pounding into me, he kept the rhythm until I came a third time before he finally allowed himself his own release. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be sizzling like short-circuited wiring. I collapsed from exhaustion on my face, feeling almost more like I’d been through battle than a wild session of love-making. And Giles made no move to touch me once he’d collapsed on his side of the bed. 76

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That was different, too—but again subtle. We generally worked up so much heat and were so breathless in the aftermath that we made no attempt to cuddle until we’d both had the time to cool down and catch our breaths. But we usually reached that state at roughly the same time and then Giles would pull me close and stroke his hands over me. This time I waited in vain for that lover’s salute … and waited. When I finally realized that he’d either fallen asleep or he was deliberately withholding the part I found so important, I got up and went into the bathroom to clean up, wondering a little vaguely what had just happened. Was it all in my mind that I felt … used? Was I reading things into the encounter that weren’t there because we’d argued earlier? I tried to convince myself that I was. He’d apologized, after all, for losing his temper. Couldn’t I take that at face value and leave it alone? Or was I right in thinking something important had changed between us? I shrugged it off with an unhealthy dose of depression. What did it matter anyway beyond depressing me? I hated the fact that my wonderful fling seemed to be ending badly, but it would’ve ended regardless. I ought to just be relieved. As much as I’d hoped that we could both go our separate ways at the end amiably, wouldn’t that have depressed me more in the long run? At least, since we weren’t getting along that well now, I could be relieved to put it behind me, couldn’t I? My stomach complained that I hadn’t put food in it when I left the bathroom, but one look at the clock was enough to assure me the belly wasn’t getting anything tonight. I took a drink from the refreshment bar to sooth the savage beast and headed back to the bed. I discovered when I’d climbed in that Giles wasn’t asleep as I’d thought, or he’d woken when I left the bed. He was staring at the ceiling, however, and didn’t acknowledge me so I climbed in and rolled on my side 77

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with my back to him, struggling to fight off the depression that seemed determined to settle over me. After a few minutes, I felt the bed move as Giles turned over and then his warmth as he leaned close. His lips settled on my bare shoulder for a lingering kiss and then he dragged them to the curve of my neck and placed another there. Settling his head on the same pillow I was using, he curled his arm around me and dragged me back into the curve of his body. Comforted by that gesture, I managed to reclaim sleep.

****

Giles didn’t feel particularly rested or vigorous when he woke the following morning. He felt rather more like he did on those rare occasions when he woke with a hangover from indulging a little too freely the night before. By the time he climbed into the shower, however, his rambling search for the reason had honed in on it. He’d spent the last few days enjoying a wild fling with a woman closer to his father in age than she was him. The curious thing was that he wasn’t even certain of why the hell it bothered him so damned much. The truth was, most of the women he chose as lovers were older—a good bit older than he was. He wasn’t even convinced that Mila was the oldest he’d ever had a fling with … because he never asked. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether or not there was a mutual attraction and if they could carry on without getting caught if there happened to be a husband in the wings. Actually, that part had never been a habit. It was too damned stressful, however attractive he might find a woman. He didn’t get a particular thrill out of 78

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worrying about getting shot by an irate husband and there were far too many women without baggage to settle on one that did. He had, a couple of times, but he’d been duped both times into believing the woman was single or he wouldn’t have gotten involved at all ... and he’d moved on as soon as he discovered his mistake. If he was honest with himself, he’d suspected Mila might be a married woman. He’d dismissed the suspicion on the grounds that the husband wasn’t on the train and therefore he didn’t have to worry about being pitched from it—while it was moving—and because he’d wanted her badly enough to ignore the possibility. He’d known going in that she was older than him. She was a beautiful woman, but there’d been no doubt his mind that she was older. He just hadn’t suspected the difference between them was as much as it was. That still didn’t explain why it had come as such a shock to find it out. Or why he was so utterly dismayed about it. And angry. He’d tried to convince himself that he wasn’t actually angry, just surprised, but he wasn’t just surprised, he was stunned, and he wasn’t just mildly disturbed, he was angry. Maybe he couldn’t figure that part out because he didn’t actually want to? In the scheme of things, what did it matter? It mattered. He couldn’t convince himself it didn’t. He wasn’t just angry. He felt a hollowness in this pit of his gut that felt a lot like misery. And misery bloody well wasn’t something he went looking for in a damned affair! Maybe he should just abandon the notion of pursuing the affair any further, knock the dust of America from his shoes, and head home? 79

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That knot in his gut tightened, making it clear that that wasn’t what he really wanted to do. On the other hand, he had a sneaking suspicion that it might be best to ignore that reluctance and follow reason instead. He was no closer to making up his mind when he got out of the shower than he had been when he got in—more alert and not as bone weary—but no closer to an answer. The smell of coffee wafted to him as he toweled off cursorily. He felt his pulse leap and a peculiar sort of pleasure waft through him at the realization that Mila was up and had started the coffee. It seemed an inordinate amount of pleasure, all things considered, and that stirred that hollow feeling in his belly again. Ignoring it, he wrapped the towel around his waist and left the bathroom. Mila sent him a tentative smile when he emerged and his gaze traveled over her face hungrily. For once even that displeased him, though. It was the keen anticipation he felt every time he thought about Mila that had encouraged a sense of recklessness to start with. He’d dismissed his qualms about the possibility of a husband and those about thoroughly pissing off his father. Leading him about by dick, she was, he thought derisively, shaking his head at himself, but there were worse things, surely? He was certain there were. Her eyes weren’t just heavy from their rousing love play the night before, though, he realized. Her eyelids were swollen from crying … because he’d been too ticked off the night before to care about the hurt look in her eyes. Sighing, remorseful, he moved up behind her for a cuddle. “How’s my girl this morning?” he murmured, nibbling at her neck. It wasn’t until he voiced the question that it dawned on him that he had reason to ask beyond this fit of temper. He’d been a bit rough with her the night before, he recalled abruptly. 80

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A search of his memory, thankfully, and her for any bruises produced the fact that he hadn’t been as violent, physically, as he’d felt, but he thought from the look in her eyes that he also hadn’t hidden the anger as well as he’d thought. “Fine. Just a little tired,” she murmured, refusing to meet his gaze. He turned her in arms and lifted her chin despite her resistance, forcing her to meet his gaze. He felt his heart tighten oddly in his chest when she did. Remorse flooded him at the anxious look she sent him. He was spoiling everything with his odd humor, he thought with disgust, which wasn’t like him at all. “I think I might have gotten my period,” he said wryly. Mila gaped at him a moment and then chuckled. Relieved, he grinned at her. “You think that’s funny, do you? You’re an insensitive wench! It’s not a laughing matter, let me tell you!” It wasn’t until the door had closed behind her and he heard the shower that it hit him right between the eyes why he’d been so outdone when he’d discovered just how vast the chasm of age was between them. He felt cheated. He felt like he’d been robbed of the most precious thing there was in the world—time. And, unfortunately, he didn’t have to search too hard to understand why that was so devastating it left a hollow in the pit of his stomach that seemed to have taken up permanent residence. Insanity, that was what it was! A couple of days in her company shouldn’t have been enough to deprive him of any sense! He not only realized he was well on his way, though, but that it had been no more than a few days. It seemed longer. It was fairly bizarre that she’d become such a ‘habit’ so quickly …almost as bizarre as the fact that he’d so swiftly forgotten that he’d only set out to seduce her, with no expectation or desire for more than a little mutually pleasurable entertainment. 81

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****

Despite my lingering doubts, I was in a far better frame of mind when Giles and I set out for New York. He appeared to have put his anger behind him. His humorous quips seemed a little more forced than usual, but at least I could see he was making the effort to throw it off and I was more than willing to put it behind us. Today was our last day, after all. If I was going to be left with regrets I didn’t want it to be because we’d parted with any bitterness between us. I knew I was going to have regrets. Unfortunately, I hadn’t considered that when I’d so blithely invited him along as my companion. I was uncomfortably aware that I’d behaved, from the first, like an empty headed child. If he’d been a serial killer, I would be rotting in a ditch somewhere! Thankfully, my judgment hadn’t been that impaired, but it put me in mind of the fact that I hadn’t so much as cracked my laptop since I’d left and I hadn’t checked in with the family. Guilt instantly assailed me, but I dismissed it. I’d been very vocal about the fact that it was a ‘real’ vacation and I wanted my daughters to handle whatever came up unless they just couldn’t. There was no reason for me to feel guilty about getting caught up in my fun and not checking in. And I still did. I would have plenty of time on my hands to do that after I parted company with Giles, though, and I’d probably be miserable enough to need the distraction. Since we’d both missed dinner the night before we lingered for a hearty breakfast in Philadelphia before heading out and still made it to New York in good time. Giles excused himself to make a few phone calls when we’d checked in to the hotel. He’d paid, again, but since I was hopeful that meant he wasn’t leaving right away, I kept my mouth shut. 82

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I was beginning to get distinctly uneasy about the absolute dread that ceased me every time I allowed myself to think about leaving Giles and continuing alone, but I refused to consciously acknowledge it beyond assuring myself that I was a big girl and I’d get over it. With time on my hands and worry at the back of my mind, I decided to call home while Giles was out attending his own business. I knew I’d played hell the moment Lilly answered. “Mom? My god! Where have you been?” Instantly defensive, I responded with a little more heat than I intended. “On vacation! Did you forget?” “Yes, but …. We haven’t heard a word and that’s so unlike you, I’ve been out of my mind with worry! I’ve been trying and trying to reach you!” Guilt trumped the anger, and then fear. “Is anything wrong?” I asked faintly. “No, no! Nothing like that. Everybody is fine. I was just …. Well, there haven’t been any charges on the card like there should have been and I couldn’t get hold of you. I thought something might have happened!” Relieved of the fear that something horrible had happened at home, guilt surged through me again … and discomfort. “Well … I met this man on the train ….” Lilly sounded relieved, pissed off, and intrigued all at the same time. “So that’s why you haven’t called. Is he handsome?” I debated whether to gush or not, but I hadn’t had the chance and I discovered I couldn’t hold it back. “He’s absolutely drop dead gorgeous! And he’s funny and just the most wonderful man I’ve ever met in my life.” There was a brief silence on the other end. “Sounds like you’re head over heels. What’s his name?” 83

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“Giles … Giles Hawthorne. He’s British. He has the most divine accent— besides having a beautiful voice.” “Oh … uh …. He’s a foreigner then?” She sounded relieved and it pricked my anger again. “What do you mean by that?” “Well … nothing, really. It’s just ….” She stopped. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Mom. You sound so … enthralled with him. What does he do? Is he just here on vacation?” Discomfort wafted through me again. “He’s on holiday—that’s what they call vacations over there … uh … I guess. That was the impression I got, anyway.” “What does he do for a living?” Irritation flooded me. “We haven’t actually spent a lot of time talking,” I said tightly, if not very truthfully. “Mom!” Lilly gasped, clearly horrified. “You’ve …. You did use protection?” “Oh for god’s sake! It isn’t likely I’d get pregnant!” I snapped. “I’m not worried about you getting pregnant!” Lilly snapped back at me. “Honest to god, Mom! You know damned well what I mean! If he’s that good looking ….” “It doesn’t follow that a man’s a whore just because he’s good looking!” I said angrily, despite the fact that I knew, in most cases, it did. There weren’t many men that could resist when they had pussy thrown at them. Mostly, they didn’t see any reason why they should. “You haven’t! Mom!” “Do you think I got this old without having any judgment?” “Then you did use protection?” “Could we change the subject?” “Ok, so you don’t know anything about him but his name, right? How old is he?” 84

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I bit my lip, debating whether to lie or not, and finally told her. She screamed in my ear. “Mom! For god’s sake! He’s probably some kind of con man!” “What the hell do you mean by that? Never mind! You’re saying he couldn’t possibly be attracted to me and therefore he’s after something else.” “I’m not saying that.” “You did say that!” She was silent for a moment. “You know I think you’re beautiful and the most wonderful person I know. You’re my mother. I love you.” “But you only think that because you love me?” I asked dryly. “In reality, you know no one else would think so.” “All I’m saying is be careful. Please? I do love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” I sighed. “He’s going back to England. We’re New York and I imagine he’ll fly out tomorrow.” “Aw mom! I’m sorry.” I had to suppose my unhappiness about that fact was abundantly clear. “No, don’t worry. It was just a fling—for both of us.” “In that case, I’m thrilled for you! When do you think you’ll get back? Still on the same itinerary you worked out before you left?” “Still on schedule.” “How about if I schedule an appointment with your gynecologist when you get back?” she suggested cheerfully. “Just to be sure, you know?” “If you’d met him you wouldn’t make such a nasty insinuation!” I said angrily. “He’s a good man—a decent man. Never mind.”

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I tried to dismiss all the seeds of doubt she’d planted in my mind when I hung up, but I was only partially successful. I discovered it was hard to dismiss all of it—completely. Giles had been determined to pay not only his own way, but most of my expenses. I should’ve been able to completely dismiss any possibility that he was a gold digger or a con man based on that alone. A little voice in the back of my mind had only to suggest that that was the surest way to allay my suspicions, though, for me to begin to entertain doubts. It could be seed money to sucker me in. I dressed well, but certainly not expensively. Wouldn’t a con man assess that and realize that I certainly couldn’t be too well off when I didn’t own anything really expensive? Then, too, well-to-do people generally didn’t take the train. Except that I had a private compartment and beyond that he was European. From what I could tell, it was pretty common for them to take a train and not nearly as class oriented as it tended to be in the U.S.—important people had to move fast! I finally shoved the whole mess to the back of my mind with the reflection that it hadn’t happened and wasn’t going to—because the fun was over. We were in New York. Giles would be leaving, so unless he picked my pocket on the way out, he certainly wasn’t going to have the opportunity to rob me—even if that had been his objective. And I didn’t believe for a moment that it had been. Unfortunately, thanks to miss doom and gloom, I also couldn’t convince myself that he was just overcome with lust, but it still worked in a sense. Even if I wasn’t his idea of a wet dream, it wasn’t as if men didn’t screw women they weren’t particularly attracted to! If I’d heard ‘butterface’ and ‘put a bag over her head’ one time, I’d heard it a thousand times! And then there was the country song about leaving the bar with a ten and waking up with a two! Men were not only willing to screw women they were 86

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ashamed to be seen with in public, they did quite often when the dick commanded it! And there was no doubt in my mind on that score, at least. Giles hadn’t been shy about telling me he was horny as hell and hadn’t gotten any in a while! Of course, I knew, now, that Giles was a randy fellow! I’d known then that he had to be exaggerating about how long it had been for him, but he’d certainly been enthusiastic enough to convince me it had been a while! Which, I reminded myself triumphantly, also supported my witless behavior insofar as not using protection. If he was getting laid regularly enough to be a threat to society, he wouldn’t have settled for me! Not very flattering! In fact, deeply depressing on another level, but still something of a relief considering what my daughter had said. Not that I’d been ready to question my judgment to start with! I’d not only thoroughly examined his cock, I’d tasted just about every inch of the man! A person couldn’t be sick without signs! Unless …. No! I wasn’t going to consider that. I should’ve beat my daughter more when she was a child, I thought irritably! If I’d known then that she was going to grow up to scold me and ruin my fun, I think I would have—instead of thinking it was cute that she was so damned bossy!

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Chapter Six Giles’ expression was a little strained when he joined me in the room a little later. I think I would’ve noticed it right away if I hadn’t been so sunk in my own gloom, but it wasn’t until he told me that we would be dining with a couple of people he knew that evening that I actually noticed he looked a little white around the mouth. Anger? “We don’t have to if you don’t fancy it,” he said when I looked at him in surprise, and then he grimaced. “Actually, I’m afraid I do have to, but you needn’t feel obligated.” Meaning dine alone? That was appealing! Unfortunately, I couldn’t decide whether he’d said it to be considerate or because he didn’t actually want me to tag along. “I could just order something and stay in if you want to meet your friends. I don’t want to be in the way.” “You wouldn’t be in the way,” he said tightly. “I’d actually prefer to tell them they could go hang, but I’m afraid I really do need to go.” Put that way, I began to think that maybe he needed moral support, which didn’t actually make them sound like friends. “I’d like to be with you, but I won’t be upset if you don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said tentatively. “That’s settled then!” He glanced at his watch, something I hadn’t once seen him do in the time we’d been together. “I think we have time to take in some of the sites if you’d like? We’re supposed to meet them at six but that gives us a couple of hours.” He looked tense. It made my doubts swarm to the forefront again, but it also made me yearn to soothe the trouble away. “Hmm,” I said thoughtfully, moving

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toward him and looping my arms around his broad shoulders, “a couple of hours to kill. What could we do with that?” It distracted him as I’d hoped it would. His eyes narrowed on my face. “Mila, you are a shameless hussy!” he murmured, trying to look shocked. “Trying to seduce me in the middle of the day?” I tipped my head up to nibble at his throat. “Is it working?” He waltzed me toward the bed. “What do you think?” As a relaxation technique, the things we did might have been open for debate, particularly when I could see as soon as we settled in the taxi that Giles was nearly as tense as he had been earlier. It had distracted him from whatever was troubling him for a little while, though, and for my part, it had damned well been worth it. My inner thighs were a little sore from Giles playing ‘make a wish’ most of the afternoon and I winced as I stepped out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk. Giles’ eyes were gleaming with unholy amusement when he paid the driver and joined me. “The shoes pinching, love?” he asked me when he’d settled a solicitous arm along my waist, his voice vibrating with repressed laughter. I felt my face reddening even as I sent him a sharp look. “You know damned well it isn’t the shoes!” I hissed a little crossly. “Girdle too tight?” I sent him a drop dead look and he chuckled out loud. “I’ll massage that for you later,” he murmured against my ear as we entered the restaurant. “Do you have a reservation?” the maître’d asked when we stopped before his podium, effectively preventing me from a retort. Giles’ good humor vanished. “Bromley.” The man’s eyes widened. “Right this way. Lord Bromley and his companion have already arrived.” I felt my blood pressure abruptly dip. It left coldness in its wake. I flicked an unnerved glance at Giles, but his jaw was set, his teeth clenched tightly enough it 89

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made a muscle flex in his jaw, and he was staring across the restaurant. I wished abruptly that I’d opted for room service. I didn’t know what this meeting was all about, but I had the uncomfortable suspicion that it might be work and or business related in some way and I thought I probably shouldn’t be there. I knew I was right the moment I spotted Penelope. Oh god! Now I remembered where I’d heard that name before! A nice looking, very well dressed man rose as we reached the table and held out his hand to Giles. He looked to be around my age. I glanced from Penelope to Giles and then to the man I knew must be Lord Bromley as the two men exchanged greetings. Giles turned to me. “Mila—I’d like to introduce you to Lord Alec Bromley … my assistant, Penelope, you’ve already met,” he added dismissively. Except I hadn’t been told she was his sexatary! I sort of plopped weak kneed into the chair Giles and Lord Bromley both tried to pull out for me at the same time, nearly missing the seat since they were both wrestling with the chair. Penelope gave me a cold eyed look and a poison smile. “How delightful to see you again … Ms. Stephens, was it? Or is it Mrs. Stephens?” she asked artlessly. I returned her smile with a frigid one of my own. “I’m divorced.” “I suppose that would be Ms. Stephens, then. Did you keep his name? Or is that one of your other husband’s names?” “I didn’t divorce my daughters,” I responded coldly. “I kept their last name.” “So … they all had the same father?” Oh! She was in fine form! Lord Bromley cleared his throat and sent her a frowning look. “I understand you met … 90

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Giles on the train?” Giles stood up abruptly. “If you’ll pardon me, Sir, I hadn’t prepared Mila for an inquisition. I think, perhaps, we should go back to the hotel and compare notes,” he said tightly. I looked up at Giles with a mixture of surprise and dismay, trying to decide if I should get up again or not. Lord Bromley glared at him. “Rubbish! I was simply getting acquainted!” I smiled up at Giles. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but Giles had suggested that it was an important meeting. I didn’t want him blowing it because I’d come under fire. “It’s alright.” Giles studied my face for a long moment and finally settled again. “Yes,” I answered Lord Bromley. “We met on the train.” Fortunately, the waiter came around to take a drink order. Lord Bromley and Giles both ordered a scotch—on the rocks. Giles requested a double. Penelope ordered a glass of wine. I stared at the waiter a little uncomfortably. “I don’t drink. Water?” Giles settled his hand over mine. “Why don’t you try a glass of wine?” I probably needed a glass to relax, but I really didn’t drink and I didn’t have any idea what to order. “You order something for me, then,” I said agreeably. “How quaint!” Penelope remarked in a perfectly audible under voice as the waiter left. “Are you always so old fashioned?” I glanced at Giles’ tight expression. “Well, thankfully, there are some things that just never change or go out of style. Right Giles?” I’d never seen Giles blush. He uttered a choked laugh that he tried to pretend was a cough. “Quite so. Classics, you know?” I discovered when I glanced at Lord Bromley that his eyes were gleaming appreciatively. 91

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“Ah, yes! The classics! They never grow old,” he murmured in agreement. “A fine wine only improves with age!” I felt my face heat at the look in his eyes. If I hadn’t known better I would’ve thought the old goat was flirting with me! Alright, so he wasn’t an old goat! He was a very attractive man, but I didn’t especially appreciate him flirting with me when he knew I was with Giles! Giles, I discovered, didn’t seem to appreciate it either. Thankfully, the drinks arrived and the waiter to take the orders. I hadn’t even glanced at my menu. Ordinarily, it didn’t bother me that I needed reading glasses for such things, now, but considering the snide remarks Penelope had already made I was reluctant to give the bitch more fuel. As with the wine—because I didn’t know one from another!—I deferred to Giles. I would’ve simply ordered the same thing he did except they seemed to have a rule about who ordered first and everyone had expected me to. Penelope smirked at me. If I’d been close enough I would’ve poured my wine in her lap! I could see dinner was going to be sheer delight! I lifted my wine glass, trying not to be too obvious about sniffing it before I took a taste. I discovered it was deceptive, however. It didn’t actually seem to have much of a smell and I had the thought that it would taste just as mild. Wrong! The tiny sip I took filled my mouth with hideous flavor and burned my throat going down. I couldn’t help but make a face and shudder. Giles choked on his drink. “How’s the wine, love?” he asked in a shaky voice when he’d recovered. “Mmm,” I responded. Lord Bromley leaned toward me. “It’ll grow on you, my dear,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “It’s an acquired taste.” 92

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“Yes, but … why would anyone want to acquire it?” I whispered back. “Shall I order you something else?” Giles asked. “Oh no! This is fine. I’m sure they’re all … similar anyway. Maybe I could get a glass of water to chase it?” “Waste of an expensive wine,” Penelope muttered. It irritated the hell out of me, particularly when I’d said straight out I didn’t want the damned wine! Giles signaled the waiter and asked for water. The waiter brought a round of water glasses and the salads. “Are you from this area?” Lord Bromley asked just as I stuffed a forkful of greens in my mouth. “Originally?” I asked when I managed to swallow. “No.” He looked confused. “But you live here now?” I reddened slightly. “Uh … no. I’m on vacation. Actually, I’ve never been to New York before. I’m from Georgia.” Giles’ lips twitched. Lord Bromley looked confused. “Russia?” I frowned. “U.S.” Why did foreigners always asked me that, I wondered? “It was named after King George, you know.” “Which King George?” he asked with interest. “The crazy one,” I answered thoughtlessly. “I always forget …. Sorry!” Thankfully, Giles didn’t look nearly offended as Lord Bromley or psycho bitch. I had to suppose they didn’t teach American history in England. Either that or they weren’t particularly interested. Duh! Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely certain of why it seemed to offend them. After all, Americans didn’t worry about bluntly stating their opinion of their presidents—especially when they hadn’t voted for the one under question. “It was a colony,” I said, trying to smooth over my gaff, “and I was born there—in 93

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Georgia, not the colony!—so we had to learn the history.” I glared at Penelope, daring her to comment. “So … you’re originally from Georgia?” “Yes.” “Where do you live now?” I shifted a little uncomfortably. “In Georgia.” I could see I’d really thrown Lord Bromley with the ‘originally’ comment. Or maybe it was my accent? “Oh,” he said, still looking a little puzzled. Giles looked like he was trying not to laugh. Penelope looked like she’d known all along that I didn’t have all my marbles. “By the bye,” Giles said as the waiter removed the salad plates and served the main course, “did you manage to get what I asked for, Penelope?” She sent him a contrite look. “Sorry. They were all sold out, but I did get a couple of tickets ….” Giles looked irritated as he held out his hand for the envelope Penelope had removed from her purse. “That’s fine,” he interrupted her before she could finish. I lifted my brows at him questioningly as he shoved the envelope into his jacket pocket, but he merely shook his head ever so faintly. Shrugging inwardly, I focused on my meal. “What is it that you do for a living?” Penelope asked. I glanced at her and then at Lord Bromley and Giles. “I have a small internet based company.” I considered that statement and decided to amend it. “I imagine most people would consider it a micro-company, actually, but we do alright.” “Oh?” I looked at her pointedly. “I’m sorry. If you’re asking what the company grosses, that’s private.” 94

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Penelope turned as red as the wine in her glass. Take that, bitch! Lord Bromley coughed and then cleared his throat. “I think what she was asking, my dear, is what is it the company does?” I sent him a wide eyed dumb look since he’d spoken to me as if I was mentally retarded. “Oh?” I thought it over, but the hell with both of them! “We sell sex toys.” Giles choked that time. “And kinky lingerie.” “Lucrative, I would imagine,” Lord Bromley said, nodding, although his expression was stony as he exchanged a glance with Giles. “Yes, well … like I said ….” “On the internet?” Penelope asked doubtfully. “Oh honey!” I said, putting on my thickest southern accent. “We live in the heart of the bible belt! We’d have the church folks stormin’ our doors if we sold anythin’ like that from a brick and mortar store! Why the porns alone would have them in an uproar!” “Seriously?” Giles asked a little uneasily. “Which part, Sugar?” I asked, batting my eyelashes at him in exaggeration. A reluctant grin curled his lips. He looked at my wine glass suspiciously and then reached over and picked up the half empty glass. “I think you’ve had enough of that.” I sent him a reproachful look but relented. I didn’t know why they were giving me the third degree—maybe they were just interested and I was being paranoid!—and I didn’t like it, but I didn’t want to be outright rude. “We grow organic foods.” Lord Bromley looked at me blankly for a moment and finally chuckled. Penelope looked like she wanted to gut me with her fork. Giles looked like he couldn’t decide whether to strangle me or laugh. 95

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“Farming, eh?” Lord Bromley said, chuckling again. He reached over and patted my hand … for the third time. I smiled at him and surreptitiously inched my chair a little closer to Giles’. Thankfully, they gave up trying to grill me and bored me by talking about people I didn’t know and places I’d never seen or heard of. I couldn’t decide whether they were trying to Lord and Lady me to death or if everybody they knew had a title and they were required to use it. “What do you think, my dear?” Lord Bromley asked, settling his hand over mine. I emerged from my thoughts with a jolt. I’d been trying to distract myself from the fact that my butt was going numb from sitting so long by mentally inventorying how much of my wardrobe I’d used thus far and whether I wanted to try to find a laundry to clean what I’d used or go shopping. Smiling at him with an effort, I removed my hand from beneath his and settled it in my lap, hoping he wasn’t going to go for it there. “I’m sorry …?” Giles jolted to his feet abruptly. “If I could have a word with you in private, Sir?” he asked tightly. I glanced at Giles with a touch of alarm and then at Lord Bromley as he stood up, wondering what I’d missed. Giles settled a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “If you’ll excuse us for a few moments?” I gaped at him, blinking while I tried to figure out what was going on. “Uh … alright.” I watched the two men thread their way between the tables for a moment and then glanced at Penelope questioningly. “I missed something?” She rolled her eyes. I glared at her and shifted on the chair, but I decided it was my chance to try to work some circulation back into the nether regions. “Excuse me. I’m going to the lady’s room.”

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As angry as Giles was, he had no intention of making a scene in the middle of the restaurant. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any place for the private discussion he had in mind. After a quick search to confirm his first suspicions, he turned and headed toward the men’s room. “What is this all about?” Lord Bromley demanded as soon as they’d entered the men’s room. Giles folded his arms across his chest and propped his shoulders against the wall behind him, struggling to regulate his temper. He’d never had a stronger desire to punch the bastard in the nose than he did at that moment and he didn’t want to do anything now that he would regret later. “That’s what I’d like to know,” Giles said tightly. “You told me you had something of utmost importance to talk with me about and yet you haven’t done anything since I arrived but fondle Mila at every opportunity. You’ve been coming on to her from the moment we arrived.” Lord Bromley looked down his nose at him. “You’re impertinent, young man, and you’re misguided! I’ve been exceeding polite, I think, all things considered. If anything it’s been the other way around, not but what I’m not pleasantly surprised with her manners. At least she isn’t blatant.” “I may be impertinent, father, but I’m not blind,” Giles ground out. “You’re the one that’s misguided if you think she’s given you the nod. She’s shuffled her chair my way to evade your roaming hands until she’s practically in my lap! Just what game are you playing?” Lord Bromley looked mildly discomfited, but he shrugged. “I should ask you that! You decide to go off on holiday and the next I hear you’ve taken up with some American tart and disappeared! I don’t suppose it has occurred to you that you’re way out of your league with that… female?” 97

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“I’ll thank you to watch what you say about Mila,” Giles growled, struggling with the urge to punch him in mouth. “She’s no tart and you bloody well know it! Or ought to by now!” He paused considering that and abruptly realized exactly what his father’s game was. “So that’s the game, right? That’s what was so damned important? You wanted me bring Mila here so you could show me she was just what you’d already decided she was? You figured you could dangle your title under her nose and she’d fall in your hand like a ripe plum? But she didn’t, because you’ve got it all wrong. She isn’t like that.” “How would you have any inkling what she’s like, my boy? From what I’ve been told, she’s been leading you around by your dick since she picked you up! You’ve no idea of anything about her beyond what’s between her legs! She knows a good thing when she sees it!” That time Giles damned near did punch him in the face. He uncurled his arms and shoved away from the wall, balling his hands into fists. It was the startled look that flickered in his father’s eyes that pierced his rage enough to give him pause. “You need to get better spies! Penelope isn’t worth a fuck at it—nor at the cover job you gave her, if comes to that! I knew she was your latest plant to keep an eye on me the moment she showed up on the damned plane! She was too busy sulking about the accommodations and the fact that I ignored her bumbling attempts to seduce me to know what the hell I was doing. “I picked Mila up, not the other way around. I seduced her. She doesn’t have a bleeding clue of who I am—or who you are, for that matter! And I have to say it’s bloody god damned refreshing for once in my life to be with a woman who isn’t courting your title or your money! Or with me because you set her on me, for that matter! What? Are you pissed off because you didn’t hand pick my woman for a change? You aren’t tired of playing matchmaker yet?” 98

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Lord Bromley glared at him and tried another tact. “You’re too damned old for these games, Giles! It’s past time you settled and raised a family! You’re damned near thirty!” “I tried that,” Giles retorted coldly, “and we see what came of that! I had to get a paternity test run on Jacob to discover whether or not he was actually my son! So much for that damned tart you thought was so bloody suitable! I don’t think you’re in any position to be questioning my judgment.” “Egad! You aren’t serious about this … female?” “You’re skating on dangerous ground even if you are my father,” Giles growled. “Stop calling her that.” “I can’t very call her a girl, can I?” Lord Bromley retorted. “She’s damned near old enough to be your mother!” “And you have a problem with that? I seem to recall that it was you that advised me that if I didn’t take an older woman as a lover, I’d missed out— something to the effect—‘They don’t yell. They don’t swell, and they’re grateful as hell’, wasn’t it?” “Christ! You mean to throw that in my face when all I was trying to do was to keep you from getting yourself, and some girl, in trouble? You don’t marry them, damn it all!” The comment sent a jolt through Giles. He recovered with an effort. “You did.” The moment it was out, he realized he’d scored a direct hit—and not one he’d intended. His father flinched visibly and then reddened as his own temper soared. He clenched and unclenched his hands a couple of times. “And look where that got me! One motherless boy!” Giles felt his anger abruptly wane at the anguish in his father’s expression. He wrestled with the temptation to pursue it, but he realized he needed to know. He’d 99

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always wondered why his father had never remarried. “Do you regret it? Do you regret the years you spent with my mother?” “I regret the years I’ve spent without her!” Lord Bromley said angrily. “I regret that my son hardly remembers his mother.” “That isn’t true. I remember her well,” Giles said. “She died of cancer, father. That can take anyone any time … at any age.” “She was ten years older than me. The odds are she would’ve gone before me anyway. Young people don’t consider these things. They have some skewed notion that they’re going to live forever!” “And what happens if all you do is keep your eyes on the far horizon? Considering the future is one thing—and I might add that I have. Not taking time to enjoy the journey is just a stupid, bleeding waste!” “So, you mean to make the same mistake I did?” Lord Bromley demanded angrily. “You’re saying mother was a mistake?” Giles asked coldly, feeling his anger surge again. “You would’ve felt better if you’d left her? That could just as easily have been the case, you know. As it happens, the odds are in her favor. I know four times as many widows as I do widowers! In any case, nobody’s talking marriage here but you!” “This isn’t about your mother. It’s about you. I’m saying you’re a damned fool to be screwing around with a woman like that. You’ve had plenty of time to sow your oats! If you’ve no interest in Penelope, find someone else that’s suitable and settle, but the key word is suitable! That woman isn’t!” Giles’ anger hit a new high as it struck to him that his father had all but admitted that he’d tried to set him up with Penelope. He’d suspected his father was 100

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up to his old tricks straight away when Penelope had shown up as his new personal assistant, but it totally pissed him off to have him confirm it. He wondered if sharing a compartment on the train had been Penelope’s idea or his father’s. It was clumsy for his father, enough so that he was inclined to think that brainstorm had been hers, but at this point he didn’t know how much faith he could place in it. “Penelope is a bitch. I wouldn’t have her on a bet! I can’t bloody believe you tried to set me up… again! I wasn’t miserable enough with Rebecca to suit you?” Lord Bromley looked uncomfortable for a moment, but he recovered quickly. “I didn’t set you up. Don’t blame your mistakes on me!” “The hell you didn’t! She was too bloody stupid to have come up with that plan on her own!” Giles studied him for a long moment, searching his mind for his father’s hand in his most recent disappointment. “You didn’t have anything to do with the fact that my request for an extension on my visa was denied, did you?” Lord Bromley glared at him. “Of course not! How could I when I didn’t even know you’d tried for one? There’s no reasoning with you! I don’t know why I try! I’ve good mind to cut you out!” Giles narrowed his eyes at him. His father never had been much for poker. He could see from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t merely being paranoid. The old bastard had probably been working feverishly to get the damned visa he had revoked! “Well, for Christ’s bloody sake, do it! I’m damned tired of that particular threat!”

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Chapter Seven The angry voices emanating from the men’s room brought me to a halt as I reached my destination. Uneasiness flooded me when I realized I recognized the voices as belonging to Giles and Lord Bromley. I would’ve liked to have been able to say that I didn’t eavesdrop on purpose, but my curiosity and uneasiness overcame good manners. I glanced around and eased a little closer to the door. Unfortunately, between the insulating factor of the door, their accents, and the fact that both of them were angry, I couldn’t make out more than a word here and there. If I could’ve managed more, very likely they would’ve caught me with my ear to the door when they came out. As it was, I was disappointed enough to become aware of my surroundings again. After glancing around uncomfortably, I decided to try the lady’s room and see if I could hear any better. It was occupied, I discovered. I wasn’t brazen enough to press my ear to the wall with a witness standing at the lavatory. I waited until she left. Disappointed to discover I couldn’t hear any better, in fact not even as well, I finally headed into a stall to use the facilities. I’d washed my hands, checked my hair, and headed out again when I heard the tail end of the argument as Giles flung out of the men’s room. I froze, allowing the door to close again. Cut Giles out of what, I wondered? He was threatening Giles? To say I was stunned was an understatement. He’d seemed like such a gentleman! Well, mostly a gentleman. He’d been a little too warm and friendly to my mind! I realized after a moment that it wasn’t going to do me any good to hide in the damned lady’s room. Penelope was bound to tell both men that I’d gone the 102

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moment they got back and I was very much afraid they’d both be able to figure out I’d been trying to listen in. Not that I’d intended to when I headed to the restroom! Because I hadn’t known that was where they went to discuss … whatever it was they were discussing. Well, I’d just have to cross that bridge. I couldn’t spend the night in the lady’s room! Giles was standing by his chair when I reached the table again. He looked thunderous. Lord Bromley did, too. “Are you ready to go, Mila?” Giles asked coolly. I nodded, feeling awkward, trying to decide whether to pretend I hadn’t noticed both men were boiling mad or not. Finally, I turned to Lord Bromley. “It was so nice to meet you! And to see you again, Ms … uh … Penelope.” Giles fished his wallet out, tossed two hundred dollar bills on the table, and settled his hand at my waist as he replaced his wallet. “Good evening, Sir,” he said coldly. “You aren’t going to wait for your change?” I whispered to Giles as he began to shove me toward the front of the restaurant. He sent me a startled look, but he kept going. By the time we reached the sidewalk, the tension had eased from him. He sent me an amused look. “The plates were seventy five.” “My god! And you left the waiter a hundred twenty five dollar tip?” “Each,” he said succinctly, his lips curling with amusement. I stared at him in disbelief, waiting for him to tell me it was a joke. He didn’t. “You aren’t serious? I should’ve asked for a doggy bag,” I said weakly, thinking about the food I’d left on my plate. 103

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Giles pulled me into his arms and kissed me right there on the sidewalk. I smiled at him dreamily when he released me. “What was that for?” “Just because,” he murmured, helping me into the taxi he’d flagged down. We’d traversed several blocks when Giles abruptly seemed to remember something. He checked his pockets and extracted the envelope he’d gotten from Penelope. Pulling something from it, he leaned to catch the light from the streets, then he checked his watch and gave the driver a different address. “Where are we going?” I asked curiously. “To catch a show.” I stared at him. “Really? You mean a Broadway show?” “Off Broadway, apparently,” he retorted wryly. I thought about the ticket I’d purchased online and dismissed it with only a tiny pang. It was for one and Giles had thoughtfully arranged to get tickets for us. I didn’t want to see the show I’d already paid for badly enough to give up the opportunity for an actual date with my favorite Englishman! At any rate, it was such a thrill to realize he’d actually been thinking about me and arranged it I would’ve been excited about a puppet show! There was a sizable crowd lined up outside the theater when we reached our destination. I looked them over with a mixture of anticipation and dismay. I wasn’t used to seeing such mobs except maybe outside of a football stadium, and I didn’t particularly like being in the middle of a crowd. “It must be a good show,” I said, feeling a thrill rush through me at the prospect. “Let’s hope so,” Giles murmured, sounding as if he doubted it. “At least then the evening won’t be a total loss.” “The food at that restaurant was fabulous,” I offered. Not seventy five dollars worth of fabulous in my book, but still exceptional. Giles grunted, his brow darkening at the reminder. 104

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I bit my lip, studying his face as we walked down the sidewalk and took our place in line. “You had a disagreement with Lord Bromley?” I asked hesitantly—not because I was in any doubt whatsoever, but because I wasn’t sure he’d want to talk about it. “You might say that,” he retorted dryly. “If you aren’t in the mood for this …?” He shook his head and draped an arm around my shoulders as we shuffled forward with the slowly moving line. “I don’t want you to miss out on catching a show while you’re here. You said you wanted to.” He remembered that? The man must have the memory of an elephant! I knew I hadn’t mentioned it since I’d told him my plans on the train. I wrestled with myself for a moment, wondering if it would frighten him if I confessed and finally decided to take the plunge. There was nothing threatening, surely, about just telling him I wanted to be with him? “I’m a lot more interested in being with you than catching a show. I really appreciate you doing this for me, but I want to do whatever you want to do.” He met my gaze for a long moment and finally lifted a hand to my cheek, stroking it lightly. “Don’t mind my pissy mood. I’ll get over it. Hopefully the show will be an amusing distraction.” “You don’t know what it is?” He shook his head. “Beyond the fact that Penelope didn’t get what I asked for, no. There wasn’t enough light to read them in the taxi and, unfortunately, I didn’t think to check before.” I disentangled myself from him and stepped out of line, craning to see what was on the playbill beside the entrance. “Shakespeare.” His brows rose. “Dare I hope it’s A Mid Summer Night’s Dream?” 105

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I shook my head. “Hamlet.”

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Giles’ lips tightened. A muscle in his jaw worked as he ground his teeth together. “On second thought, let’s go back to the hotel,” he growled. Draping his arm around Mila’s shoulders again, he steered her out of the line and over to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a taxi. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Penelope’s choice was an accident, he thought angrily. No doubt she felt extremely clever about it! How in the hell his father had ever thought there was even the most remote chance that he’d be interested in her was beyond him! It wouldn’t be so damned bad that his father was determined to match him up if the old man had a fucking clue of the sort of women he was interested in!

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I wasn’t sorry that Giles had decided to skip the play although I thought I would’ve enjoyed watching it with him. I was sorry that the dinner with Lord Bromley and Penelope had put him in such a foul mood. I would’ve liked to know what had happened, but I knew he wasn’t going to tell me and therefore there was no point in ruining what was left of the evening. Especially when I knew I’d have to leave the next day if I was going to catch the train in Chicago. As soon as we got to the room, I slipped my arms around him. “Why don’t we take a nice, long, hot, relaxing shower together, order something decadent from room service, and watch a nasty movie together?” I murmured coaxingly. 106

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He shifted away from me to study my face. “I’ve got a better idea.” “What?” “Why don’t we make love in the shower and then on the bed, and maybe on the floor ….” He looked around the room. “That chair over there ….” I wrestled with my determination to coax him out of his bad mood. “That sounds …exhausting and really uncomfortable,” I finally answered honestly. He laughed. “Alright. Second option. Take a shower, order something decadent to pig out on, and make a nasty movie together?” “Sounds like a plan,” I said, pulling away from him decisively and stripping my clothes off as I headed toward the bathroom. “I vote for ice cream!” “I thought you wanted something decadent. It has to be chocolate to be decadent.” “No, it doesn’t! If it’s fattening, it’s decadent.” “Chocolate,” he insisted as we climbed into the shower together. “I’m thinking chocolate drizzled over Mila. Then I could lick every inch of you.” I moved closer, curling my arms around him and rubbing my breasts against his chest, enjoying the tingle that went through me at the contact. “You can do that without the chocolate.” He tugged at my hair, urging me to tip my head back, and settled his lips against mine. “Yes, but it wouldn’t be as … sweet,” he murmured. “I’m sweet!” I said, pouting playfully. He lifted his head slightly, cupping my face in his hands. “Yes, you are. I don’t know why you put up with my foul temper.” I shook my head at him. “You don’t have a foul temper.” He grimaced. “That just shows how little you know me, love. I damned near punched my … Lord Bromley in the teeth.” 107

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My eyes widened. “Oh! That would’ve been bad … really bad! I might’ve had to bail you out of jail! What did he do?” He chuckled abruptly. “You’ve had experience with that, have you?” I felt my face redden. “Honey! You can get a ticket for spittin’ on the sidewalk these days and hauled off to jail just from lookin’ at a cop sideways! I’m from redneck country. Of course I have! We have home comin’ parties when our loved ones get out of jail!” He grinned at me a little doubtfully. “What’s this accent, then, eh?” I blinked at him in surprise. “Southern, of course—south Georgian to be specific!” “What was that about in the restaurant?” I shrugged. “Pure contrariness, I guess—and just enough ‘don’t give a damn’ from the wine to make me feel more contrary. I could see they both had me pegged as a slut. I figured, what the hell? Why not give them a real shock? Anyway, I didn’t especially like them prying. They weren’t interested in me. They were just being nosey and thought they were being clever and were going to trip me up.” I bit my lip. “I guess I shouldn’t have. That didn’t have anything to do with the … uh … argument, did it?” “You’re amazingly perceptive … but no. It was … personal.” “But you don’t think I misread them?” His lips tightened. “What they think isn’t important.” I studied his face. It was to me if it influenced the way he thought about me, and I was afraid it did. It angered me when I realized that, frustrated me to think they’d made a judgment without even taking the time to know anything about me and that they obviously knew him well and had far more influence on him because they did. It was like trying to fight a battle when you were unarmed and they had big guns—and they were prepared for battle and you’d walked into it blindly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 108

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He grinned. “Actually you didn’t. It was a side to you I hadn’t seen before, but I have to say it’s a damned sexy side. The look on … Bromley’s face was priceless.” I felt my face heat and chuckled with embarrassment. “He did look like a roach had crawled onto the table, didn’t he?” Giles laughed out loud. “It wasn’t that bad!” I didn’t argue. I didn’t especially want to dwell on it. Pulling away from him I grabbed the soap and set about diverting his mind to more pleasant things. It worked like a charm! There was just something about stroking their cocks, I’d discovered, that was guaranteed to put a man in a better frame of mind! It was nice to know I hadn’t lost my touch in taming the beast! Not that I was immune! By the time I’d thoroughly explored him, I was ready to climb up him and mount that lovely lump of hard flesh! Giles was damned uncooperative despite his arousal, though. He wouldn’t let me suck his lollipop more than a few moments and he resolutely shut the water off while I was searching the shower for a handy foothold so Fifi could shake hands with Sir Fredrick! He was sprawled in the middle of the bed studying the room service menu by the time I’d dried off and joined him. Grabbing the phone as I climbed in, he punched the number and ordered ice cream and a piece of double chocolate cake, smirking at me as he ordered. “I don’t care if you have your chocolate cake as long as I get my ice cream,” I said a little irritably when he’d hung up. “I got the cake for you. The ice cream’s for me.” “Over your dead body,” I said without heat, snatching up the remote before he could grab it. He dove for me, pinning me to the bed beneath him. I managed to wave my arms wildly enough to keep him from wresting the remote from me. His 109

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eyes gleaming, he scooted down the bed and caught one of my nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking on it until I went limp. He snatched the remote out of my hand with a triumphant laugh and settled back against the pillows. I stared at him in disbelief for several moments and finally got up. Crawling toward him on my knees, I straddled his thighs and made a grab for the remote. He grabbed me with one arm, pinning me against his chest, and held the other arm straight up, aiming the remote at the TV. Deciding to the turn the tables on him, I wiggled out from under the arm he had around me and grabbed his cock, stuffing it into my mouth. His breath left him in a grunt, as if I’d punched him in the stomach. Instead of going limp, though, he planted a plate sized hand on the back of my head. “There’s a good girl,” he said, his voice shaking with laughter. “Polish it good now!” I managed to lift my head high enough to glare at him. He grinned, but pretended he was focused on the TV. Ah! He wanted to play rough, I thought! Shrugging inwardly, determined to win the battle for the TV, I settled down more comfortably and focused on ‘polishing his knob’. I managed to focus all of five minutes on that goal before my memory shifted to the last time I’d gone down on him and I remembered making him come. My focus shifted immediately to repeating that triumph. I’d nearly come from getting him off that time. I decided to make sure I did this time by stroking my clit this time when I was getting close. Unfortunately, I was too focused on my task to pay close enough attention to Giles. The moment I felt his cock jerk in imminent eruption and shifted my hand to my clit, Giles rolled me off. Catching my thighs, he burrowed his face against my mound and began teasing my clit with his tongue. I lifted against him, feeling myself rushing toward release and then grabbed his hips and guided his cock into my mouth again. Almost as soon as I began sucking his cock again, I hit my peak. Groaning around his cock, I worked my mouth over him more feverishly as the 110

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spasms ripped through me. He groaned, tensed, and then his hips jerked and I felt his hot seed fill my mouth. It was the most wickedly delightful thing I’d ever experienced, feeling him come in mouth and sucking at me as I came at the same time. We pulled at one another until we’d exploited out climaxes to the fullest and then lay limply groin to face while we struggled to catch our breaths. Giles was the first to recover. He sat up and grabbed me, hauling me with him as he sat back, and tucking me against his chest. He was stroking my back almost idly when there was a knock at the door. “Good man! If he’d come sooner that would’ve been a hell of a thing!” he said, setting me aside and climbing off the bed. “I’ll have to give him a good tip for his timing!” He glanced at me as he wrapped his towel around himself and tucked the corner in. “Covers. I don’t want you giving him a thrill.” I grabbed the cover and burrowed under it as he strode to the door. He caught hold of the door handle and snatched the door open and then merely stood gaping at the couple on the other side for several moments. “Bloody hell!” he burst out after a moment, hopping behind the door and leaning out to glare at Penelope and Lord Bromley. “What are you two doing here?” Penelope and Bromley lifted their heads and stared straight at me, perched up in the bed without a stitch of clothes on. Gasping, I scooted down and jerked the covers over my head. “I beg your pardon,” Lord Bromley said a little stiffly after a prolonged moment of silence. “Perhaps I could have a word with you tomorrow?” Feeling like an idiot about my reaction—something that would’ve been a lot more appropriate out of a kid!—I lowered the cover enough to peer at the group. Giles was scowling at our visitors. “Well, this is a deuced inconvenient time to be asking!” he said ungraciously. 111

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“I see that,” Bromley replied dryly. “Tomorrow?” “Certainly, Sir,” Giles responded, not happily, and nodded. The waiter arrived with our snacks as the two of them turned from the door. Lord Bromley looked the tray over and glanced back at Giles, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Crumbs in the bed can be deuced uncomfortable,” he murmured. “I’m not even going to address the ice cream.” Giles’ face was still red when he returned to the bed with the tray. I stared at him, fighting the urge to laugh, and then gave in to. Giles grinned reluctantly. “That was damned uncomfortable!” “I’m sorry! It was just so funny!” I laughed. “You leapt behind the door like a kid who’s just met up with his parents at the door after sneaking a girl into his room … and the look on his face!” His face darkened, but he chuckled. “How would you know? You were hiding under the covers.” “Not then! I was so stunned it wasn’t until they looked in my direction that I thought about it.” Giles settled the tray in the middle of the bed and climbed in. “We’re never going to see that film,” he said ruefully. I shrugged, grabbing my ice cream and spoon. “It has the best intermissions, though,” I murmured, giving him a warm look. “I’ll always remember it with fondness.” My voice hitched a little as I said it and it settled inside me that it was going to be a bittersweet memory. Giles frowned, but I didn’t know if it was from what I’d said or his concentration on figuring out how to get the plastic wrap off his cake. Plumping his pillows behind his back, he settled back with his cake and flicked a look at my bowl. “You mean to share that, right?” I sent him a speculative look. “Are you going to share the cake?” 112

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“Absolutely!” I moved closer and lifted a spoonful of ice cream to his lips. It dripped on his chest and I dove for it and licked it off with my tongue before he could swipe it away with his hand. His eyes were gleaming when I settled again. “I can see I’m really going to enjoy that ice cream.” We both enjoyed our deserts—thoroughly—eating about half and then cleaning up the mess we made feeding each other with the movie as ‘mood’ in the background. It was the first and only time we’d explored one another in a leisurely way, building the heat between us slowly and, to me, the sweetest … and the most heart wrenching. It made me realize just how crazy I was about him despite my earnest efforts to convince myself it was just lust and I was having my wild time—late, but at long last. I found myself trying to memorize everything about him and everything I felt when he touched me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remain detached enough to record it all and still feel everything and I lost that perspective as he built the fever in me until I couldn’t wait any longer to feel him inside of me. He watched me as he surged into my channel, short sorties that gained a little more and then a little more until he at last drove as deeply as he could. I opened my eyes when he stopped, a little disconcerted to see that he had been watching me as my body engulfed his, as we joined so intimately. He lowered his chest against mine after meeting my gaze for a long moment, curling his back to align his lips with mine. I tilted my lips up to meet his descent, feeling the tension inside me leap upward as our lips and tongues met, mated, formed another bond between us. Languid at first, the heat rose rapidly. “Mmm, chocolate,” I murmured huskily as he broke the kiss. His eyes gleamed. Settling the weight of his upper body on his elbows once more, he began surging and withdrawing in a slow cadence that wrung tingling 113

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notes of pleasure from my body as he strummed every inch of my channel with his wonderfully hard flesh. I peeped up at him from beneath my lashes from time to time as the heat and pressure built until I reached a precipice that dragged me deep into myself. I gasped as the wave crested, stiffening with the strength of the convulsion and losing my own counter rhythm. He shuddered as the muscles of my sex began clenching around his cock frantically, sucked in a ragged breath and seemed to hold it. He released it abruptly, harshly, and began to surge into me faster and harder, thrusting deeply and grinding against me as his body was seized in his own convulsions of pleasure. A shudder rippled through him as he expelled the last of his semen. Breathing gustily, he lowered himself again until his chest flattened my breasts, and rubbed his face against mine. “You only came once,” he murmured, his voice still husky. He sounded disappointed. I couldn’t help but smile. “We both came twice,” I disputed, opening my eyes to look at him. “That was a special treat for me.” He didn’t look convinced that he’d adequately performed, but he let it go. Moving beside me, he lay on his side and pulled me against his length, entwining one leg with mine. “It was a special treat for me.” “Was it?” I asked lazily, very pleased with myself. He shifted a couple of times and finally sat up and began brushing at the sheets. “There are crumbs in the bed,” he muttered. I chuckled, remembering what Lord Bromley had said. “Your crumbs! You would have cake!” “You’re the one that kept dropping them,” he said, amusement threading his voice. “I wouldn’t have if you’d paid more attention to where you were shoving the fork,” I pointed out. “I got some up my nose while you were licking crumbs off my boob!” 114

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He began shaking with laughter. Rolling onto his back, he dragged up onto his chest, running his hand along my back and over my buttocks. “I guess the old man was right about that, at least,” he muttered with amusement. “A broken clock is right twice a day,” I said pointedly. Giles chuckled, but his amusement slowly faded as he thought back over the discussion he’d had with his father earlier. She was right. He was way off in too damned many ways to count. He supposed he could see some of it given the fact that he’d obviously leapt to the conclusion that there was more to the affair than there was. He was damned if he could figure out why, though, unless it was Penelope’s doing, but he couldn’t figure out what her motive might have been for stirring his father up. Christ! It wasn’t as if it was his first affair! His father acted like he was fresh out of the damned nursery—at the same time pointing out that he was nearly thirty and should be ready to settle down! Where was the bleeding logic in that? To say of nothing of the fact that he had had a go at settling down and he had the scars to prove it! He was well out of that! Not that it hadn’t had its moments in the beginning—at least before they’d tied the knot! Becca had been a wild woman in the bedroom. Domesticity certainly hadn’t appealed to her, though, despite her eagerness to dash down the aisle! Actually, she was just a tad wilder than he’d ever been completely comfortable with, if he was honest. He wasn’t against a little kink now and then, but she’d been a bit of an extremist. He supposed that was where the trouble had started. He’d had his surfeit of kink and wanted ‘comfortable’ for a bit. Of course, she’d had a point about being neglected, too. He’d been out of the country almost more than in for years now. 115

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He bloody well hadn’t been fucking around on her, though! He’d thought about it. He was no saint, but his old man had made it clear enough that he had nothing but contempt for a man that couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and his mind on business. So he’d kept his vows and ignored temptation and arrived home unannounced to find his wife in bed with his best friend—former best friend! He thought it wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d had an inkling, stupid sod that he was! There wasn’t much worse than feeling like a complete jackass! He shook the thought. His frequent absences had just been an excuse. She was a spoiled brat used to getting whatever she wanted when she wanted it. She thought she was entitled to instant gratification, entitled to whatever she wanted. No one else was, but she was! He thought what had pissed him off the most was his father lecturing him that he had to keep his vows sacred and mend things! Once done, not to be undone and all that bloody rubbish! He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but he realized he’d been pretty damned sick of his marriage by that time. Actually, he’d been sick of it before Becca had turned up pregnant. He’d felt fairly caught then, though, trapped in the mess with no escape. If it hadn’t made him feel like a laughingstock to discover what had been going on behind his back, he might have been able to take it better. He would still have filed for a divorce, but he thought he could’ve been more civilized about it. Pitching them both out in the street without a stitch of clothes might have been a bit much, but he figured he’d been publicly humiliated. They deserved a taste of it themselves. One would’ve thought, after that debacle, his father would’ve been ready to stay out of his life—because he had orchestrated that match made in hell, regardless of his attempts, now, to dispute that! He hadn’t just introduced them, 116

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he’d pushed them together at every opportunity and made it clear that he was going to be severely disappointed in his son if he didn’t marry her. And he’d never yet disappointed his father, he thought with disgust! He glanced down at Mila at that thought and discovered she’d dozed off. He’d spent most of his life trying to live up to his father’s expectations of him, desperate for his approval—not because his father was an evil tyrant, but because he loved him and respected and admired him. His father hadn’t counted on that this time, though, he thought angrily. He’d trumped him. He hadn’t admitted it, but he knew he had. So, he could spend all of what was left of his time with Mila, or he could waste a day kicking his heels in New York trying to get an extension he might or might not get. All that because his father had gotten it into his head that he was contemplating matrimony! It might have crossed his mind at that—what with his father constantly harping on him to settle down. A man could get to thinking along those lines around a woman like Mila even without that. He thought if it had even just been the sparks that flew between them he might’ve been hooked, but the truth was he’d pretty well enjoyed every minute of every day he’d been with her and he’d not only enjoyed going to bed with her, he’d enjoying getting up with her. It was the sort of thing that made doing it on a permanent basis damned appealing. The age thing, though, that had been a kick in the head. She damned well didn’t look it—or act like his notion of a woman that age. He hadn’t been especially happy or relieved when he finally figured out why it had felt like his chest had caved in when she told him. She was too old to even consider having another child and she was old enough there was a very real possibility that she would predecease him. It was absurd, really, to get so wound up about that. He had a son and he hadn’t particularly wanted another child. His first marriage had barely lasted five 117

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minutes and he didn’t give a fuck whether Becca outlived him or not. In point of fact, up until he’d met Mila, he’d thought—at least a couple of times—a little fondly of her going under a bus and predeceasing him by fifty years or so. So what did it bloody matter when the odds were greater that they’d be divorced inside of ten years than that they’d stay together long enough to have to worry about growing old with or without each other? It bloody well mattered, though! Because he wanted everything, damn it! It had mattered enough he’d seriously considered breaking it off and heading home. He’d figured that there was no point in spoiling what had otherwise been memorable in a very good way, though. In any case, Mila had coaxed him out of sulks, he thought wryly. So his father was right in a sense. It had occurred to him, but it wasn’t an issue. Beyond the biological problem, there was Jacob. He didn’t want his son to grow up in the care of a nanny and housekeeper as he had. He needed a father and a mother, and Mila lived an ocean away. He might be able to coax Mila into crossing and she might be happy and she might not—she seemed to be a close and loving mother and she might be unhappy about leaving them even if she agreed— which was bound to make him miserable! It wouldn’t work the other way, either. Becca had been all too happy to dump Jacob on him—for a healthy purse. If he tried to take Jacob out of the country, though, she was bound to cut up ugly— not that she ever bothered to visit the poor little fellow! No, it wouldn’t work. It was a damned pity in a lot of ways—Mila was perfect for him in so many ways—but the odds were against it working and there was no getting around that.

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Chapter Eight Giles hadn’t slept worth a fuck. He’d spent most of the night wrestling with whether to inform Mila that he fully intended to continue until he ran out of time, or if he should risk not being able to catch up to her again and staying behind to try to get an extension. It shouldn’t have kept him awake—especially when he’d been so thoroughly satisfied the night before—but he’d only drowsed and awoken over and over again. He wasn’t aware of finally coming to a decision, but as he lay studying Mila’s face in the early morning light filtering into the room, he realized he had. He didn’t want Mila gallivanting across the country alone. That was what had been bothering him. She was smart and she was a woman of experience—to an extent. He thought she was very capable, but she’d allowed him to worm his way in without any sort of protest. She was too trusting and it was liable to get her hurt—or worse! He needed to try to finagle an extension. If he could, then they could finish the trek she’d set her heart on and he could leave with a clear conscience once she was safely back on her home turf. If he couldn’t …. He would still take her home before he left. She might balk, but he was fairly confident he could convince her. He wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink if he left her a couple of thousand miles from everything familiar to her. She was too damned sweet and friendly for her own good. Someone was bound to try to take advantage. He was tempted to wake her up making love to her. He had a raging hard on and no where to put it, but he saw when he glanced at the clock that it was barely six o’clock. He doubted she’d complain or refuse, but she had a long drive to make today. He didn’t want her trying it half asleep because he’d kept her up fucking half the night and then woken her too early the next day. 119

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Disentangling himself from her carefully, he got up and headed in to the bath for a shower. He was disappointed when he didn’t smell coffee the moment he got out, partly because he wouldn’t have minded a cup and partly because it meant she was still sleeping and he wasn’t going to get the breakfast he really wanted. Drying off in the bathroom, he dropped the towel and moved quietly into the room and dressed, checking around when he’d finished to make certain he’d gathered up all his belongings. When he’d finished, he set his bags by the door and moved to the bed. He was surprised and a little disconcerted to discover Mila was awake. “Did I wake you, love?” he asked, settling on the edge of the bed and leaning down to kiss her temple. “No.” “Well, I would’ve had to anyway …. I’ve got some business to take care of.” “Lord Bromley?” “Bloody hell! I’d forgotten that! No, well, yes, that, too. Thing is I need to try to get an extension on my visa and I’ve no idea how long that might take. I’m going to have to stay and work on it and meet you in Chicago.” She widened her eyes in surprise and sat up abruptly. “You’re going to meet in Chicago?” “I’d meant to. I’d invited myself along to enjoy your holiday.” Mila slipped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I thought you had to go back.” “If I can’t get an extension, I bloody well will, but I don’t see why I can’t convince them to let me stay a few more days … At least long enough to see you home again.” He pulled away far enough to study her face. “Ah! You thought you were going to be rid of me! You can’t scrape me off that easily!” 120

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She chuckled. “I don’t want to scrape you off. I’ve been thinking my vacation wasn’t going to be nearly as much fun by myself.” “Well, don’t be thinking you can pick up another hitchhiker! I’ll be meeting you in Chicago—one way or the other!” He nudged her chin up and kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. “Go back to sleep, love. You need a clear head when you set out. Take care.” I wanted to get up and follow him to the door for another kiss, but I was pretty sure I couldn’t manage it without crying and I knew he’d hate that. “Goodbye, Giles,” I called out as he opened the door. He paused and looked back at me. “I’ll see you in Chicago.” I nodded, wondering if he really would. The hollow feeling in my stomach told me I wouldn’t and I deeply regretted that I’d slept while he packed. I’d almost missed him completely! He’d come back to kiss me goodbye, I reminded myself. He hadn’t tried to make love to me, though. Did that mean he meant to actually meet me, I wondered? Or had he just been in too much of a rush to linger that long? Or maybe he’d been afraid that I’d treat him to tears and begging? My eyes burned. My throat felt like someone had a hand wrapped tightly around it. My chest was so tight it hurt, but the tears I wanted to shed didn’t come. I got up finally and went to take a shower, trying not to think about the fact that Giles had just walked out of my life. I felt like he’d taken all the light with him. I felt old and thrown away. Because I was.

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I dressed when I got out and then began to gather up my things to leave, seesawing back and forth between the hope that he’d really meant what he’d said and the certainty that he hadn’t. At least he’d given me something to salve the hurt. He was a foreigner. As unfamiliar as I was with traveling abroad, I knew it was true that he would’ve had to have a permit to come to the U.S. So I could comfort myself with that if he didn’t show up in Chicago—that it was because he couldn’t, not because he hadn’t wanted to. Then again, he hadn’t made any attempt to find out where I lived. I’d told Lord Bromley that I was from Georgia, but it was a big state. There was no way he’d find me even if he wanted to look. Trying to shake my misery, I ordered breakfast in the room and then called the car rental place about delivering my car. I saw it wasn’t much past seven when I’d made all the arrangements, but it was a week day, a school day. Tiffany would be up because she would’ve had to put Jasmine on the bus. I called her and told her I was leaving New York for Chicago to pick up the train and head west. She asked me about Giles. I felt like crying. “His visa is about to run out. He’s staying in New York.” “Oh. Are you alright?” I felt my chin wobble. “Sure! I’m fine.” “Call me when you get in to Chicago, ok? Or call Lilly or Torie. Everybody said to say hi and they love you and can’t wait for you to get home! But have a good time, ok?” “Tell them all I love them and miss them.” I hesitated. “I might cut the trip a little short. I’m starting to get a little homesick.” “Aw mom! Are you sure you’re alright?” 122

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“I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s just …. I have to go. They’re here with my breakfast and I need to get on the road.” She didn’t sound convinced—small wonder! Thankfully, my breakfast actually did arrive shortly after I hung up. I was starving—either because of the late night snack of cake and ice cream or having screwed half the night! I didn’t want to be hungry. It seemed obscene to have to worry about such mundane things when I was heartbroken. I shook that thought off. I was just … lonesome. I’d gotten used to having Giles around all the time. I’d get over it. And maybe he actually would meet me in Chicago and I could put off getting over it a while longer? If he didn’t meet me in Chicago, I might just head home, I thought. What was the point in finishing the trip if I was going to be miserable? I could be miserable at home a lot more cheaply. I was a nervous wreck by the time I managed to leave the city behind. On the bright side, the sheer terror at the thought of getting lost in New York City had distracted me from my misery. Even with my trusty little navigational gadget, I managed to miss one turn and went the wrong way on another and I was beginning to think I was going to have to give up and live there. It was a rough start and I was so exhausted by the time I reached the hotel where I’d reserved a room on the west side of Cleveland that I was partially asleep when I fell into bed. I decided by the time I set out the next morning that exhaustion was probably the best cure for what ailed me. I was still miserable, but I was too tired to be depressed. I regretted having allowed myself two full hours wait time in the damned Chicago station, but I’d been afraid if I didn’t allow enough time for unscheduled stops that I might miss the train and have to wait for the next one. 123

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Naturally, I didn’t have any problems because I’d planned for them. Hopefulness threaded my veins as I went in and checked my bags in spite of every effort on my part to spare myself disappointment. I told myself I wasn’t really surprised when I’d walked from one end of the terminal to the other searching for him and headed into the VP lounge to collapse and try not to cry. Deciding I just didn’t feel like waiting in the lounge, I left it and went in search of food—not because I was actually hungry, but because I thought stuffing my face might entertain me and keep me occupied for a few minutes. My conscience gave me a twinge since I’d worked so damned hard to get in shape to start with, but I beat it back. I needed this! I wasted twenty bucks on a meal I didn’t want and couldn’t eat and left the restaurant again, heading for the nearest bake shop. Grabbing a soda—all calories included!—and a bag of donuts, I headed back to the lounge. Relieved to see I’d at least managed to kill nearly an hour and a half, I perched on a chair and stared blankly at the TV and stuffed my face with donut. I was already beginning to feel vaguely nauseous as I finished the first, but I opened the bag again and studied the two remaining donuts, trying to decide whether I wanted the one dipped in chocolate or the one with multicolored sprinkles. Someone announced over the PA system that the train was ready to begin loading passengers. I closed the bag, deciding I could finish making myself sick on the train. As I got up to gather my things, however, a tall man strode into the lounge and glanced around, his expression taut. My heart leapt into my throat. A thrill surged through me. “Giles!” I exclaimed, dropping everything and racing toward him. He grabbed me so tightly he squeezed the breath out of me. “Where in god’s name have you been? I’ve been going out of my mind! I’ve looked for you everywhere!” 124

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Uh oh! Trouble! “You have?” He shook his head. “They’re loading. We can talk on the train.” Relieved at the reprieve and so happy to see him I felt downright delirious, I went back to gather up everything I’d dropped and decided to abandon my donuts. I really hated to, but I had a bad feeling it might end up being evidence against me. Giles seemed really upset. I didn’t want to tell him I’d put him through hell looking for me because I was off looking for a ‘food fix’. “Did you have trouble?” he asked as we headed for the loading platform. “Uh … a little. I got lost trying to find my way out of New York.” He frowned. “I thought you had a GPS thingy?” “Yes, well, I hadn’t counted on the traffic. I missed a turn and ….” “I thought you’d be here yesterday!” I gaped at him. “It’s over eleven hours driving time. I spent the night west of Cleveland. No wonder you were worried!” His lips tightened. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered. “But you’re glad to see me?” He looked down at me and finally smiled a little wanly. “I’d show you how glad, but we might get arrested.” The moment the conductor had finished settling me, Giles slapped a bill in his palm and showed him out. “Just toss my things in my compartment, thanks.” He slammed the door and moved toward me purposefully, pulling me into a tight embrace and kissing me into a mindless blob of jelly. He had me undressed before the train blew its whistle and jolted, signaling that it was beginning to pull out of the station. We hit orbit before the train managed to get up to full speed and lay drained, but blissful as the train finally left Chicago behind. 125

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“Now that that’s out of the way,” he said once he’d caught his breath, “tell me how I managed to miss this important detail?” “I might not have mentioned it,” I said a little uneasily. “Why?” “Well, I didn’t have anything planned between New York and Chicago.” He shook his head. “You frightened the living shit out of me. I checked every hotel when I got in last night—no Mila.” I touched his face, torn between gladness that he’d cared enough to worry and guilt that I’d caused him to worry. I definitely wasn’t going to tell him about the donuts! “Mind telling me why you taste like cinnamon?” I smiled at him a little weakly. Busted! “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m starving. I didn’t stop to eat. I was too busy trying to track you down.” Don’t spare me! Just keep twisting the knife! “Maybe they’ll have the snack bar open in the lounge?” I suggested hopefully. He considered it. “Let’s go check. I don’t think I can wait for the dining car to open— or I don’t want to. I might have to.” My donut felt like a rock in the pit of my stomach. Thankfully, although the snack bar wasn’t open when we arrived, it opened shortly afterward. I felt better once Giles had gotten something to tide him over until dinner. “How did things go in New York?” I asked finally. His expression tautened. He glanced around, saw the room was fairly crowded, and shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.” That made me uneasy. “Why don’t we go back to my cabin?” Nodding, he finished his sandwich, disposed of his trash, and walked me back. 126

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“I didn’t get an extension,” he said as soon we’d entered the compartment and closed the door. I stared at him in dismay and dropped onto the couch a little weakly. “You didn’t?” I echoed. “You mean …? You said you only had a few days left ….” “Yes, well, they’ll have to track me down to boot me out, won’t they?” he growled. I gaped at him. “Giles! Couldn’t you get in serious trouble?” He shrugged. “They won’t be happy, I can tell you that. Not to worry. I’ll sort it out.” I would worry, though! How could I not worry? “How many days do you actually have?” He studied my face for a moment and finally joined me on the couch, putting his arm around me and pulling me against his side. “If I’d known you’d be so upset about it, I wouldn’t have said anything at all.” “That wouldn’t help!” I said unhappily. “I’d just be caught completely off guard when they … arrested you and hauled you away!” “Yes, well, things might get really exciting around here, but I rather doubt it,” he said, sounding unconcerned. I looked up at his face worriedly, but I couldn’t help but think it must not be as bad as it seemed to me if he could be so unconcerned about it. I relaxed fractionally. “You really think it’ll be alright? I don’t want you to get into trouble.” He turned, pulling me down to lie beside him on the couch. “Too late,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. “Two days without you and I have blue balls from hell.” The comment surprised a laugh out of me. “Giles! I meant real trouble.” “That is real trouble, love. If you had balls …. Well, for one thing we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but you’d understand it a lot better.” “I do understand,” I said a little impatiently. 127

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“You do? You have balls?” he said, his voice shaking with laughter. “Good god! I need to check this out. How could I have missed them?” I gave him a look as he slipped a hand between my legs. “No. Can’t tell. I’m going to have to dig a little deeper into this mystery.” I couldn’t help but grin at him as he got up and began working at my jeans. He nearly dragged me off the couch jerking my pants down my hips. He caught my ankles and spread my legs when he’d discarded the jeans despite my attempt to preserve my modesty by clamping them together. I covered my cleft with my hand and he frowned. “I never said I had them.” He met my gaze. “What you have, love, is a lovely pussy, which you are currently preventing me from looking at.” He climbed over me carefully and settled his weight on me. “And you do have balls.” He grasped my hand and leaned away to guide it to his crotch. “Right about here.” I cupped them carefully, lightly massaging them. “Poor baby,” I murmured sympathetically. “You want me to take care of that for you?” His eyes gleamed. “I do. First I want to reintroduce myself to Fifi, though. It’s been two days, after all, she might not remember me.” He gave Fifi a ten minute oral presentation that had me clawing at the fabric of the couch until I was surprised I didn’t shred it. Unfortunately for Sir Fredrick and his brothers, we heard the conductor moving along the corridor outside announcing diner before he had his turn. “I already ate,” he called out when the conductor tapped at the door, waggling his brows at me. “And Mila’s about to.” I clapped a hand to my mouth to stifle a horrified laugh. “Giles!” I hissed. “Behave!” 128

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He chuckled huskily. Getting up, he moved to the door and opened it a crack as I scrambled up and dashed to the bathroom. “We changed our minds. We’ll dine at seven.” Despite his complaint, he was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when I came out of hiding. He set it aside and dragged me down on his lap. “I think we might’ve run over a cat back there.” I looked at him blankly a moment. “Very funny! I don’t sound like a dying cat!” He chuckled. “Ready for diner?” I wiggled my butt on his lap. “Poor Sir Fredrick seems to have decided to sulk.” He laughed. “He’ll recover. I meant diner.” “Oh.” We chose the perfect time to dine. The sun was setting but we had a grand view of the Mississippi. “Reminds me of the Thames,” Giles murmured. “It looks like this?” I asked, surprised. “No, but it’s a river.” I chuckled, shaking my head at him. “I never know when you’re serious.” He reached for my hand across the table. “I seriously missed …Fifi. She missed me, too. She told me.” “Giles!” I said warningly. His lips twitched. “What? I merely said ….” He paused at the look I sent him, but then again the waiter arrived just then and I doubted my censorious look was enough to dampen him. Instead of heading directly back to the room afterward, we stopped in the lounge for a while to enjoy the scenery. They played a movie once it got dark outside—the same movie Giles and I had watched parts of in two different hotels. We glanced at one another and grinned. “They’re playing our movie. You want to watch?” 129

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“I suppose we’ll have to,” he said pensively. “It might cause a stir if we entertained ourselves the way we usually do.” “It’s a shame we can’t watch it in the cabin,” I agreed. We actually did watch it that time. I kept expecting Giles to suggest we retire, but he seemed interested and I got so totally enthralled after a few minutes that I forgot everything else. I felt more than a little guilty when the movie ended and Giles got up, stretched, and escorted me to my cabin. He wouldn’t let me talk to Sir Fredrick long enough to become as thoroughly reacquainted as I’d had in mind, but we exchanged touches and kisses for nearly an hour and our grand finale was thoroughly satisfying for both of us. We weren’t due to arrive in Salt Lake City until the following night. We spent much of the day enjoying the scenery from the glass walled sightseer lounge as the train traveled through the Rockies, getting up to stroll around when we got tired of sitting. We met up with a couple from Great Britain and chatted with them a while. They seemed pleased to meet up with a fellow Brit and Giles, although he appeared to be a little uncomfortable at first, seemed to enjoy it, as well. “I guess you’re a little homesick?” I asked tentatively when we returned to my cabin. He lifted his brows at me questioningly. “You mentioned the Thames ….” He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it. I travel a lot for my father. I miss Jacob, though.” My heart skipped a couple of beats. “Jacob?” “My son.” It was the first time he’d mentioned anything of a personal nature and I was torn between a hunger to learn more about him and the fear that if I prodded he would clam up. “How old is he?” I asked finally. 130

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“Two.” He frowned. “No! Three now.” Dismay filled me. My mind flooded with so many questions it made me dizzy. In the forefront of my mind, though, was horror that I might well have been traveling with a married man and trying every sexual position that came to mind! A man with a child! “Do you … have a picture of him?” He pulled his wallet out and took a photo from it, handing it to me. I stared at the smiling face of the child, feeling as if I was drowning. “He’s … beautiful, Giles!” He looked pleased. “I’m obliged to think so. I’m his father.” I couldn’t help but smile at that. “He looks just like you,” I said, handing the picture back to him. He studied the picture a little doubtfully. “You think so? I always thought he looked rather more like my father when he was a boy.” Not his mother? He glanced at me, studying my expression for several moments. “We’re divorced—two years.” “Oh,” I said, relieved. He shook his head at me and slipped an arm around me. “Believe it or not, I wouldn’t be with you if I was married.” I smiled at him. “I don’t have any trouble believing it.” He looked a little surprised. “No? No nagging suspicions because I didn’t tell you before?” “I didn’t think you were married or I wouldn’t have been with you.” “I know. I suppose I struck you right off as an international playboy?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “It crossed my mind.” “You’re serious?” he asked, clearly surprised. “Well,” I said, sending him a warm, teasing look, “you’re very good in bed.” He grinned at me. “Natural aptitude. I was actually a virgin when we met.” 131

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“With a son?” “Immaculate conception,” he said, mock serious. “Irreverent,” I retorted. “No, seriously!” “I know! You’re seriously bad!” He grinned at me. “You like me most when I’m very bad, though.” “Yes, I do.” “That deserves a kiss and little petting, at the very least.”

****

We arrived in Salt Lake City that evening and spent the night. Renting a car the following day, we drove north to Yellowstone Park and hit the high points. I hadn’t actually planned to stay more than a couple of days any of the time, but I discovered I couldn’t put Giles ‘problem’ completely out of my mind despite his determination to avoid discussing it and his knack for distracting me, and I decided to shave a little time off that trip. We saw Old Faithful, who apparently wasn’t quite as faithful as he was once, receding glaciers, and waterfalls, and took a hairraising donkey ride to the floor of the Grand Canyon. Returning late the following day, we spent the night in Salt Lake City again and then headed to Las Vegas. We arrived late in the afternoon in the adult playground to rival all others. I began to suspect immediately that this was the carrot that had really tempted Giles to behave so recklessly and follow me all the way across the country. I felt like I knew him well enough by now to say with conviction that he wasn’t prone to reckless or irresponsible behavior, but almost from the moment we crossed the city limits he was buzzing with impatience. “What’s up first on the schedule? Casino? Or a show?” he asked grinning broadly. 132

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He looked like a kid who had money burning a hole in his pocket and had just been dropped off at a toy store. My heart failed me. For the first time since we’d been together it really hit me just how young he actually was. I hadn’t truly felt my age, or the chasm of years between us. I hadn’t looked at him as anything more or less than the handsome, charming man he was or thought of myself beyond my femininity, because he made me feel like a desirable woman—timeless, ageless. The little doubts that had nipped at the back of my mind since I’d talked to Lilly about him began to clamor a little more loudly. “I thought we’d check into the hotel and freshen up first.” He sent me a look. “After that,” he said dryly.

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Chapter Nine I suppose I should’ve been too excited to feel tired or at least uneasy enough to be too tense to rest, but by the time we got into the room I felt like my tail was dragging the floor. Giles’ energy alone was enough to make me feel tired. “Would you like to shower first?” he asked politely. I smiled wanly. “Why don’t you go ahead? I think I’m just going to stretch out on the bed for a few minutes.” He looked at me askance and finally crossed the room and looped his arms around me, studying my face. “You look bone tired, love.” I sighed. “Thanks!” He looked a little disconcerted at the sharpness in my voice and I felt contrite. “I’ve been traveling non-stop for a week and a half and taking part in a sex marathon. I’m a little tired.” “Sex marathon, eh?” he echoed pensively, his eyes lighting with amusement. “Why don’t you lie down and rest a bit, then? I’ll shower first and then we’ll see how you feel after you’ve showered.” Feeling better that he didn’t seem irritated with me, I hugged him and kissed his chin. “Sounds good to me.” I was more than half asleep when he emerged from the bathroom. I lay listening to his movements around the room, trying to get up enough energy to get up. Finally, the bed dipped and Giles leaned over me, nibbling at my neck. “Feeling any better?” “Mmm.” “Want company?” 134

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I wouldn’t have minded, but I knew he was anxious to see the sights. “Why don’t you do a little exploring while I take a little nap? You could scout around and see which places look most promising. The keys are in my purse.” He got up, returning a few minutes later with the purse. I dug the keys out and my PDA. “There’s a list of the places I thought might be fun on here. Be sure to take the navigator so you don’t get lost.” He leaned down and bit my earlobe, sending goosebumps cascading all down my back. “Do you need anything before I go?” A pep pill, I thought. “No. I’m fine.” Anxiety flickered through me when I heard the door close, but I was too exhausted to hold on to it. I felt somewhat refreshed when I woke a little later. Getting up, trying not to get too worked up over the fact that he wasn’t back yet, I went to take a shower. He still wasn’t back when I got out, so I got down to some serious primping. I’d brought ‘dress up’ wear for Vegas since I’d planned to hit at least one casino, take in at least one Vegas show and dine at one of their finer restaurants. I was still tired enough casual appealed a lot more than something that was going to pinch or bind even if it did look good, but there was no way I was going out with a man that looked like Giles in a place like Vegas without making every effort to look as good as I could! He looked like he’d hit a wall when he came in a little later and saw me. After staring at me for a moment, he backed up, opened the door and checked the room number. I was torn between wanting to throw something at him and amusement. The room check had been to tease me, but his first reaction had been entirely without pretense. He closed the door and crossed the room. Catching my shoulders, he surveyed me from head to toe. “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?” 135

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“Very funny!” Laughing, he caught me before I could stalk off, coiled his arms around me and hugged me tightly. “You’re stunning, absolutely beautiful.” “You clean up very nicely yourself,” I retorted, pleased at the compliments and still a little miffed at the implication that I was hardly recognizable as the same woman despite the fact that I’d spent over an hour on the transformation. He laughed. “Touché!” Releasing me, he studied me appreciatively for a moment and then frowned. “I don’t know if it’s safe to take you out or not. Maybe we should get room-service?” “I thought you wanted to go out?” “Yes, but … I’m not keen on having to beat men off of you all night.” “I doubt you’ll have to worry about that,” I said dryly. “Where are we going first?” “I checked out your list and they’re all first rate. You’re very good at this. You should consider going into making travel arrangements or something like that. We’ve got reservations at the dinner theater you picked.” He grimaced. “I think we should just take a taxi, though. I made a wrong turn myself. The traffic is insane. Everyone is driving down the wrong side of the road and even the damned steering wheel on the car is on the wrong side!” I stared at him blankly a moment before I recalled that the cars, and roads, in the UK were the opposite of ours. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh at his joke or not. “You didn’t really have trouble?” I asked uneasily. “I didn’t think about ….” “I’ve driven in the U.S. a time or two,” he said wryly. “But I did get caught up in traffic and was forced to turn off when I didn’t want to. The navigator was alarmed. I wasn’t.” Relieved, I allowed him to escort me down stairs. I was pleased to discover that Giles wasn’t the only man that thought I was worth another look. Several men looked me over appreciatively. 136

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Of course, there were about twice that many women that checked Giles out— which didn’t surprise me at all but didn’t make me happy. It took us more than half an hour to get to the dinner club, but we had the opportunity of gawking all the way there and I found it highly entertaining whether Giles did or not. The food was well above ‘average’ and the entertainers were, as Giles had put it, first rate. I was so wrapped up in the show that it wasn’t until I excused myself to go to the lady’s room that it hit me that I’m imbibed just a lit-tle too much. My eyes widened as I stood up and the room did a slow spin. Concern flickered across Giles’ face. “Mila? Are you alright?” I smiled with an effort. “Fine!” It took concentration to make it from the table to the lady’s room without giving away the fact that I could barely walk a straight line. In all honesty, I had no idea whether I truly managed it or not. My head wasn’t actually swimming, but I was high enough I knew I was high! When I’d used the facilities, I moved to the lavatory and studied myself in the mirror. Yep! I was drunk alright! I considered trying to minimize my condition by splashing cold water on my face and then decided against it on the grounds that it would ruin my makeup. Instead, I ran cold water over my hands and carefully patted my face. I didn’t feel any more sober when I left the restroom, though, and decided I’d better keep closer watch on my drink glass. Giles had a fresh drink waiting for me when I got back. I smiled at him and plopped in my seat. “Thank you.” “You feeling better?” “Oh, I feel fine—very, very fine,” I told him. His lips quirked. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink that,” he said when I picked up the glass and took a sip of my drink. “Oh! I’m fine. Anyway, we didn’t drive.” 137

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I felt better as soon as I’d reminded myself that I wouldn’t be driving anyway. Besides, we had at least another hour before the show was finished. I’d probably be stone cold sober by then! “I don’t drink,” I told Giles confidentially as we placed another drink order, “but these—what are these?” “Maiti’s.” “These are really good. I’m sure the fruit is good for me, too.” He chuckled. “Absolutely. One should always get a full serving of fruit every day.” I was disappointed when the show ended. “That’s all? It’s over?” Giles helped me up. “Afraid so.” “I’ve lost my purse,” I told him after looking around for it. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm. “I have it.” He slipped his other arm around me. We’d already left the table when I made another discovery. “I lost my heels too.” “Hold tight, love. I’ll get them. Can you stand here alright?” I sent him a chiding look. “Of course I can!” Thankfully, he wasn’t gone long before he returned with my heels dangling from one hand. “Off we go now.” That piqued my interest. “Where are we going now?” He chuckled. “To bed, love. I’m fairly pissed. You’re pissed. We’ll be lucky to make it that far.” I glanced at him in dismay. “What are you pissed off about?” “Drunk, my love,” he said grinning. I frowned. “Pissed means drunk in English?” He uttered a snorting laugh. “It does,” he said solemnly. “Oh.” I thought it over as we threaded our way out and stopped outside to wait for a taxi. 138

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“The night is young! You’re young! We should go party!” “I seriously think that’s a very bad idea. I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but I drank enough to float a boat and I’m reasonably certain you’re drunker than I am.” I stared at him wide eyed for several moments before a happy thought occurred to me. “You just want to get me in bed so you can fu …!” He clamped a hand over my mouth and leaned close. His voice was shaking with laughter. “We’ll discuss it when we get back to the room.” I stuck my tongue out and flicked it back and forth along his palm. His eyes narrowed. “You’re cheeky tonight,” he murmured. “I may let you do something interesting with that when we have a little privacy.” “And I may do it!” I informed him as he helped me into a cab. The traffic seemed worse, now, than it had earlier. The cab inched along the wide street, the driver darting from one lane to another in an effort to break free. I began to feel sleepy. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I dropped my head against Giles’ shoulder and stared at the brightly lit establishments we passed. “It looks like Christmas,” I murmured. I spotted one more garishly lit than the ones around it and sat up straighter. “Oh look, Giles! That one’s really pretty!” Giles looked. “It’s a chapel.” He frowned. “There’s a thought.” I looked at him questioningly. He tried to signal me with a combination of eye and brow movements. I snickered. His lips tightened with irritation. He put his wrists together. “Bondage?” He rolled his eyes. “The ‘problem’, you know? We could tie the knot— problem solved!” 139

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I stared at him blankly for several moments, trying to connect the dots. Abruptly, they connected. I sucked in a sharp breath at his brilliance. “Good idea!” “You think so?” he asked a little doubtfully. “It would take care of the problem.” “All right then. We’re getting out here, cabby.” The taxi didn’t even have to pull to the curb. The traffic had already stopped. We got out, paid the driver, and wove our way toward the sidewalk a little unsteadily.

****

I wasn’t sure if it was the pain that woke me or if I was instantly conscious of my misery the moment I gained some awareness, but I was pretty sure I’d never been in quite so much pain in my life. My head felt like it was going to explode. My cheek was hurting, too, and my hands were numb. I finally figured out that my cheek was hurting because it was pressing against something hard and that something was my hands. Groaning, I lifted my head and dragged my hands out from under my face. I didn’t feel a lot better and all I really wanted to do was escape into sleep once more, but I had to pee so bad I couldn’t concentrate on going back to sleep. I rolled off the bed and landed face down on the floor. Before I could figure out what had happened, I felt vibrations against my cheek. Giles grasped my arm and helped me to my feet. “Thanks,” I muttered, turning in a circle when he released me. “Where’s the bathroom?” “Just to your left and straight on.” I did a mental inventory to figure out which was my left side and then turned that way. 140

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Thankfully, I found the bathroom. I sat on the toilet for a while, holding my aching head in my hands and finally got up again. My mouth felt like something had taken a dump in it and I headed directly to the lavatory to brush my teeth. The toothpaste nearly gagged me, but I felt considerably better without the taste of shit in my mouth. Bracing myself, I splashed cold water on my face. When I lifted my head to examine myself in the mirror I saw that my hair was standing on end and the eye makeup I’d put on the night before had all collected beneath my eyes. What really gave me a jolt, though, was the gold band on my finger. I stared at it blankly, trying to recall when I’d put my wedding ring on. After wrestling with my memory for some moments, my mind finally produced a really strange series of images—Elvis standing behind a podium with a book; me and Giles standing shoulder to shoulder, swaying slightly; several strangers lined up on benches. Lowering my hands, I looked around for Giles. I saw he was sitting in one of the chairs, his back bowed, his head resting in his hands. “Did we …?” Giles straightened, staring at me a moment, and then picked up a paper on the table beside him, dangling it by one corner. Frowning, I moved toward him and took the paper. A host of fresh images flooded my mind as I stared at the thing—Certificate of Marriage. Feeling weak, I glanced around and finally simply wilted to the floor. Giles studied me, his expression unreadable. I stared back at him, trying first off to wrap my mind around it and then, when I was sure I wasn’t hallucinating, trying to decide whether Giles was contemplating suicide or not. The moment I opened my mouth, however, he surged to his feet. “Let’s take care of the hangover before we discuss this, shall we? I don’t feel up to defending myself at the moment.” 141

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The comment startled me. “You know how to get rid of the hangover?” “I’ll ring the concierge for suggestions,” he said decisively. I got up from the floor with an effort and glanced at the bed a little longingly, but I decided a hot shower might help and wove a slightly drunken path back into the bathroom. The hot water did help, some, but I still felt a little woozy and a sharp pain went through my head with every step. Giles headed in for a shower as I emerged. “They’re sending something up.” I nodded and then regretted it. “I think I’ll just lie down.” I didn’t know if he heard me or not. The shower came on just then. Moving carefully to the bed, I lay down just as carefully and pulled the covers up, closing my eyes. I could count every heartbeat in my skull. I felt that I ought to invest some time in considering what we’d done the night before and how I felt about it and, more importantly to me, how Giles felt about it, but I couldn’t manage much more than counting the twinges that went through my head every time my heart beat. Someone knocked on the door before Giles got out of the bathroom. I sighed and struggled up. I’d already reached for the door handle before it dawned on me that I was stark naked. “Just a minute!” Turning away, I looked for something to cover up with and spied Giles’ shirt on the floor nearby—actually, it was the first ‘crumb’ in a trail of clothes leading to the bed, but it was still the closest. I nearly passed out when I leaned down to pick it up and the pressure inside my head abruptly intensified a thousand fold. Fighting blackout, I shrugged into the shirt and fumbled with the buttons, managing to get three through the holes before I reached the door again. A waiter came in, bearing a tray with an assortment of beverages and something under a cover. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted past my nostrils. My stomach clenched. “Just put it on the table,” I muttered, waving at him. 142

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He’d already left before it occurred to me that I hadn’t tipped him. I’d have to make it up to him later, I decided. I wasn’t up to chasing him down the hall. Despite everything, amusement flickered through me at the image I’d inadvertently conjured—half naked woman chasing a waiter down the hall waving a bill. It probably wouldn’t even faze the hotel staff. Giles returned just then and halted abruptly, staring at me. “Feeling better?” he asked tentatively. I massaged my head. “Honestly? I think I’d have to die to get better.” He approached me, settled a hand on my waist and escorted me to the table, sitting across from me once I’d managed to ring the chair with my butt. “Let’s see if any of this helps, shall we?” He removed the cover, stared at the food for a moment, and covered it again. “Not up to that yet. Ah ha! Painkiller!” I looked up hopefully. “What do you want to chase it with? Coffee, juice, or water?” “Let me see how the water goes down,” I said a little weakly. He sent me a sympathetic look as he set the glass in front of me and a couple of pills. “Poor darling.” It lifted my spirits. I smiled at him and took the pills. He downed his own with a few sips of the juice and then we merely sat waiting in silence for the medicine to kick in. “I think it was my idea,” he said after a while. I lifted my head to look at him questioningly. “The chapel, the preacher ….” “Oh.” I frowned, trying to remember. All I could really remember, though, was discussing it and that I’d thought it sounded like a brilliant plan at the time. 143

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It was nothing short of amazing how reasonable completely irrational things could seem with just a little alcohol in the blood! “I remember thinking it was a really good idea.” He met my gaze. I bit my lip. “At the time, anyway.” Something flickered in his eyes. “And now?” I was surprised he’d asked. I tamped the impulse to point out the obvious, feeling just enough hope that he didn’t deeply regret it to consider my words carefully. “I’m … not sorry, especially if it really does keep you out of trouble.” He frowned. “It might at that.” Relieved, I smiled at him tentatively. “It’s a bit like using a sledge hammer to drive a nail, though, I suppose.” Dismay flickered through me. “I guess so.” Giles released an angry breath and surged to his feet. “I do wish you’d stop agreeing with absolutely everything I say, damn it all! I’m damned if I can figure out what you want, Mila!” I winced, absently rubbing my temple and trying to figure out what it was he wanted me to say. He commenced to pacing in agitation, raking his hands through his carefully combed hair until it was sticking out around his head as it had been before he’d carefully groomed. “It’s a mess.” I swallowed with an effort. “What do you want to do?” He stopped abruptly and stared at me. I had the feeling that he was going to surge toward me as he had so often and sweep me into his arms. Instead, after a tense moment, he settled in the chair again. “I damned well don’t know what I want to do or even what I should do,” he said after a few moments. “There’s the rub.” 144

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I nodded, trying not to feel hurt. “We don’t actually have to do anything right away, do we?” He sent me a startled look and then thought it over. He looked relieved after a moment. “Right. We don’t have to do anything straight away.” He got up again and pulled me up, curling his arms around me. “We both need time to think about this and decide what’s best,” he said against my hair. “But I want you to promise me something.” I nodded. He pulled away and cupped my face in one hand. “Don’t dash off straight away when you get home and file for an annulment?” Hopefulness surged through me again. “It might be a mistake, but I think as long as we’ve done it, we should consider everything before we jump into anything else.” The hopefulness took a nosedive. “Alright. I’ll wait.” “And then we’ll talk after we’ve had time to think a little more clearly.” To my vast disappointment he released me without kissing me. “Right now, I think we need to get you home and I need to see what sort of trouble I’m in being here on an expired visa.” He shook his head. “It’s a clear sign that I haven’t been thinking very clearly for a while or I wouldn’t have done anything that bloody stupid.” I didn’t really want him to take me home and dump me, but the alternative wasn’t any more appealing—being dumped in Las Vegas. On the other hand, I could hardly object when he’d pointed out his legal problems with immigration. “I think I can find my way home,” I said a little stiffly. “Wouldn’t it be better if you went straight back? I mean, the longer the visa is expired ….” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving my wife in Las Vegas,” he said tightly.

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My heart leapt at that. I couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t just that it made me feel good that he’d called me his wife, but that it indicated he was thinking of me that way. I supposed that was absurd. I was his wife, thanks to a few drinks too many! “I think we should take a plane, though.” I didn’t like planes. “Don’t they check things like visas on the planes?” I asked a little doubtfully. “Bloody hell! I hadn’t thought of that. They’re liable to on the train, for that matter.” He looked irritated. “Nothing for it. The car is going to be the best option at this point.” We packed our bags and left Vegas before lunch, heading east. I’d called to tell my daughters I was cutting my trip short and heading home, but I didn’t feel like trying to explain the reasons over the phone. I debated, briefly, whether to tell them Giles would be with me or not, but I decided I’d better give them a heads up. I told Lilly and also told her that I would be very angry if he wasn’t treated like a guest when we got there. They were bound to feel hostility and there was nothing I could do about that, but they could damned well show some manners and pretend to be gracious! He was going to be in foreign territory and ‘outmanned’ by women! Needless to say, neither of us was in a particularly playful mood as we set out. Our little lark had suddenly become very serious. I didn’t know about Giles, but I suddenly felt like I’d been caught at something fun but forbidden and sent to the principal’s office. I didn’t push that first day because, frankly, I still felt like hell and beyond that the situation seemed beyond my capabilities to handle with any finesse. After a quiet dinner, however, when I discovered Giles fully intended to continue sharing a room, I decided enough was enough! It was absurd for the two of us to lie on 146

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opposite sides of the bed, now, when we were married when we’d been all over one another before! It took mulish stubbornness on my part to even attempt to bridge the gap, though. I was afraid of being rebuffed and I was no more inclined to invite injury than anyone else. The thing was, I sensed that Giles was also afraid of being rejected—not that he suddenly didn’t feel any desire, but that he figured I would refuse any overtures he made. It was hard to ignore the possibility that he might feel need, but no particular desire for me, but I figured if he had need I wanted to take of it! It was the sort of stalemate, I figured, that usually led down the road to more misunderstanding and more hurt. Having sex with him, I figured, couldn’t complicate anything anymore than it already was—or at least, it didn’t need to. We’d started out sharing purely for the sake of pleasure, after all. After staring at the wall for a full thirty minutes, therefore, listening intently to Giles’ breathing for any sign that he’d gone to sleep, I finally rolled over. He was staring at the ceiling, I discovered. I almost wished he’d been asleep. I might have had a better chance of seducing him while he was defenseless! “Giles?” He turned his head and looked at me. “I’d really like …. Could we …?” I stopped and cleared my throat. This was harder than I’d expected! It was so much easier just to show interest with a touch and wait for a reaction pro or con! “We are married … for now. I don’t see why we can’t … you know.” He rolled over, staring at me as if he was trying to read my mind. “Do you want to?” Irritation flickered through me. “I asked you first, damn it!” A reluctant smile curled his lips. He shifted closer. 147

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It was strange that it could feel like the first time all over again, especially when we’d damned near fucked each other raw on the first leg of the trip, and yet it did. It felt different and still wonderful when he covered my mouth with his and kissed me deeply, almost tentatively. As relieved as I was gratified, I looped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him more tightly against me. I love this man, I thought, feeling emotions boil inside of me, conflicting emotions—joy and sorrow, fear and desire and need that wasn’t sexual at all. He seemed to feel the yearning that dominated all else and what had begun as a tentative search for acceptance rapidly became a wild dance, choreographed by our knowledge of one another. He knew how and where and how much to touch me to set me on fire and I knew the things that stirred him most. It almost became more of a desperation to feel as if we belonged to one another, accepted one another, than the mindless quest for pleasure we’d felt so often. It was the way I felt, at any rate, and, willful deception or not, his touch didn’t just make me feel desired. It made me feel loved. Afterwards, when we’d caught our breaths and cooled down, he curled around me and that comforted me enough to send me into dreamland with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart and keep me there until I woke the following morning. I didn’t know if we’d become, or still were, friends, but it didn’t seem to me that we’d become enemies—at least not yet.

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Chapter Ten “Mom?” I paused at the voice, trying to identify it, but my daughters’ voices were so similar it was hard even for me to tell them apart unless I was looking at them. Tossing the scoop I’d used to spread laying mash for the chickens back into the can that held the food, I clamped the lid on tightly and headed out of the utility shed. “I’m here,” I called seeing that Lilly had already turned and started toward the greenhouse. She turned around and met me as I let myself out of the chicken pen. I wondered what had brought her over to my place and studied her face curiously. She looked like she was about to burst with excitement. Despite the air excitement, however, her gaze skittered away from mine guiltily. I really didn’t feel up to whatever it was she’d come to tell me, I decided. “Billy needs to check the fence. Unless I missed them somewhere, we’re missing two more chickens. I don’t know what’s getting in, but something is.” “I’ll tell him when he gets in,” Lilly said, following me as I turned toward the house. “Maybe they’re just getting out?” I shook my head. “They wouldn’t wander far even if they did. They’d be in garden,” I said dryly. “And I checked the garden before I went to check on the chickens. No poop. No chicken tracks.” “It would be a lot easier if we built a chicken house.” She wasn’t referring to the type we already had, I knew. “We advertise yard eggs and free range chickens,” I said pointedly. “That’s our market. I know you aren’t suggesting what I think you are.”

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Lilly reddened. “I wasn’t suggesting anything. I was just pointing out that it would be easier.” I sent her a look. “Truth in advertising, Lilly. Maybe that’s an antiquated concept the way things are these days, but I still have a conscience.” We reached the gate to my courtyard and I paused. “Are you coming in?” She sent me another guilty look and seemed to debate with herself. “Just for a few minutes. I need to get supper on.” I sighed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to come in. I suspected, though, that she wanted to tell me something I might not want to hear and I’d just gotten to the point where I felt like I might be alright again—some day. There were some things people just fucking well wouldn’t leave alone, though. Sighing again, I led the way across the courtyard and into the house, kicking my ‘yard’ shoes off outside the front door. Slipping my feet into the flipflops I kept by the door, I headed into the kitchen. “Something cold to drink?” “If you have any sweet tea, sure.” I checked the refrigerator. The tea jug was just about empty, but it looked like a glassful. Grabbing a cola for myself, although I’d been trying to cut back on the soda, I headed to the cabinet for a glass and poured her tea and then settled on a bar stool. “I know you told me not to …,” Lilly began after sucking in a bracing breath. I knew it! “But you did anyway,” I said dryly. Her lips tightened. “I know you think I just don’t like Giles, but ….” The moment she mentioned him I felt like crying. I’d managed to convince myself that I was holding up well and I was moving on, but there it was. I’d just been burying my head in the sand and trying to develop amnesia. I tamped the urge to burst into tears with an effort, allowing anger to come to my rescue. “I don’t give a damn what you found, Lilly! I don’t want to hear it! 150

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If Giles was the con man you assumed he was, he would’ve cleaned me out before he cleared out!” “That’s just it!” she exclaimed. “I know who he is, mom! I googled him!” “Stay out of it, Lilly!” I growled angrily, getting up jerkily and stalking out of the kitchen. “Don’t you want to know?” I stopped and turned to glare at her. “I know already! I spent two and half weeks with that man, Lilly—day and night, in one little room! Do you think I wouldn’t have noticed anything at all if he was … acting?” Turning again, I tried to elude her by heading for the stairs, intent on reaching my room and shutting her out. “He wasn’t acting, Mom! His father is a lord!” I stopped abruptly. “What?” She grinned at me in excitement, dragging a folded piece of paper from her pocket and shaking it at me. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but there was a picture and it was an independent site on the net—people in high social positions.” I snatched the paper from her and opened it with shaking hands. There was a very poor quality picture of Giles that looked like it must have been taken when he was a teenager and a bio beside it. Tears filled my eyes as I quickly skimmed what it said. A big fat drop landed on the paper and diluted the ink so that it began to run. I burst into noisy wails. “No wonder he left me!” Throwing the paper down, I raced upstairs and into my room, slamming the door. Crashing on the bed, I gave my emotions free rein since I couldn’t seem to control them anyway. All this time I’d been trying to convince myself that I hadn’t heard from him because he was busy, or he just couldn’t call for some reason, and now I knew. It was nothing, never had been anything, but a fling that had gone awry because both of us had had a little too much to drink! 151

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He wasn’t thinking things over! He wasn’t trying to get things sorted out! He’d brought me home, because he was a gentleman, and then he’d told me lies just so he could get escape without any kind of embarrassing, uncomfortable scene! The cry did me good in a sense. I’d kept everything bottled up and obviously I’d needed to get it out. I felt like hell. I couldn’t breathe for my stuffy nose and I was half blind, my eyelids swollen and my eyes blurry, but I was sure it was a good thing! Maybe another hundred or so crying jags like that one and I’d feel ‘normal’ again and not cry any time anyone looked at me hard! Getting up finally—because as much as it sucks, life goes on!—I went to wash my face. When I’d patted it dry, I stared at myself in the mirror glumly, inspecting the ravages of abject misery. I looked ninety, I decided. And fat! There was a real shocker! It wasn’t bad enough my sexcapade across America had thrown my system totally out of whack! I’d managed to bid Giles farewell at the gate in Atlanta as he headed home without crying all over him and then had stopped at the closest bakery to binge my cares away on the drive back home. I hadn’t stopped there, though! I looked down at myself with disgust. I was bloated, but it sure as hell wasn’t all bloating! I’d been trying to convince myself that it was either premenstrual swelling or water retention because of the trip. Nope! Fat! Ugly, old, useless, and unwanted! The pep talk put me in mind of the fact that I had a stash of junk food in the kitchen for emergencies. Certain Lilly had left by that time, I headed down to inspect the possibilities. So much for the diet I’d started that morning! 152

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I stared at the ‘treats’ in my junk drawer but none of it particularly appealed. Shutting it again, I went to the refrigerator and stared at the diet foods I’d stuff it full of. Grabbing an apple after a few minutes without any enthusiasm, I headed into the living room and plopped on the couch. Staring at the blank TV screen, I wondered where Giles was at that moment and what he was doing—and who he was with. I looked down at the cheap ring I was still wearing, even though it had turned my finger green. It blurred before my eyes and I sniffed and lifted my head to stare at the TV again. Why had he asked me not to get an annulment, I wondered, if he was never going to come back? I’d held on to that one thing for weeks now, trying to convince myself every time new doubts rose up to torment me that I still had that. I still had hope. Maybe he’d meant to but his family had convinced him I wasn’t good enough? I might not have thought that way except now I knew that bastard Bromley was his father! I hadn’t even been warned I was ‘meeting the parent’! How unfair was that? Not that it mattered that I could see! He’d clearly made up his mind I was trash before I ever arrived! All right! So I hadn’t actually behaved like a lady! I’d taken up with Giles on the train and gone off very blithely with a complete stranger and had wild sex with him at every opportunity! How was his father, or Giles for that matter, to know it wasn’t something I did regularly? How could they know that I’d never done anything like that before? I supposed once was enough. For crying out loud! How could it be fair, in this day and time, for men to be able to do things like that and come off smelling like roses? Untarnished? A 153

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woman could step out of line one time and she was a tramp! Automatically, and irreversibly! How was I to know I couldn’t get away with it— once, damn it! I studied the ring again, realizing I was going to have to face facts. He was gone and he’d never intended to come back any of the time. I thought about taking the ring off and throwing it in the trash, but maybe I needed a reminder of just how stupid it was to think somebody like Giles could possibly love me? How could a man do the things Giles had done with me and not care at all? Sometimes, I almost felt like men were alien beings. Boy did I feel stupid! What in the hell had made me think I could have a casual fling with a guy like that and not get burned? I hadn’t been thinking! That was the problem. I’d taken one look at Giles and opened my heart so he could cut it out and piss on it! Getting up abruptly, I plunked my half eaten apple down and looked around for my phone and my purse. I found the phone first and dialed Tiffany’s number. There was no answer. It irritated me. Lilly was cooking, but I was pissed off at her at the moment. I wasn’t going to beg for food—or company! I dialed Torie’s number hopefully. I got her answering machine. “Damn it! Does nobody stay home anymore?” It took me almost a half hour to find my damned purse. I decided to call Torie and Tiffany again, just in case they’d made it home. There was still no answer. They were probably all having dinner at Lilly’s house and discussing Giles! Shouldering my purse, I headed through the kitchen and into the garage. I cruised up and down the streets for nearly an hour before I decided on a place to eat. I studied the menu when the hostess had seated me, trying to get up some enthusiasm and finally just got a salad. The waitress looked just delighted that I was taking up a whole table, by myself, and hadn’t ordered anything but a salad. 154

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Fuck her! I wasn’t going to let Giles make me miserable enough to get fat …ter. I’d already packed on ten pounds on the trip that I couldn’t afford to carry around, given my height. I was going to get that off if it killed me! The light on my answering machine was blinking when I go home. Figured! Torie or Tiffany had called me back as soon as I left, I was sure. Giles’ voice on the answering machine hit me like a bullet in the chest. “Mila? Giles here. If you’re there, pick up.” There were a few seconds of silence and then his voice again. “All right, then. I guess you aren’t. I’ll try again later.” I plopped down on the couch and squalled again. Weeks I’d been waiting for a call! I’d just got warmed up good when the phone rang. I broke off mid-wail and bolted up, grabbing at the phone frantically before the damned answering machine could pick up. “Hello?” I gasped breathlessly. “What did you call about, mom?” I sniffed, fighting the urge to pick up where I’d left off. “Nothing. I just thought I’d invite myself over for supper.” “Oh. I thought you were on a diet?” I sighed. “Diet, not fast, Tiff. Mostly I just wanted company. Maybe tomorrow?” “Sure! Are you sure you don’t want to come over now?” “I’m expecting a call.” And just as sure as hell if I left the damned house, he’d call back! “Giles?” I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her since she sounded excited. If he’d called to tell me to go through with the annulment …. It occurred to me 155

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abruptly that that was mostly likely what it was about. “Yes. I went out to eat and he called.” “Bummer! I’ll let you go then.” I went into panic mode all over again the next time the phone rang. “Mom?” Well fuck! “I can’t stay on the phone. I’m expecting a call.” “OK. I just called to see why you called me.” Sighing, I turned the TV on and settled to wait. An hour passed. Finally, the phone rang again. I was determined not to get my hopes up too high that time. Picking the receiver up with a shaking hand, I answered cautiously. “Mila?” I melted, loosing muscle tone all over my body. “Yes?” I managed breathlessly. “It’s me, Giles. How have you been?” Like I didn’t know it was him when my heart was trying to beat itself to death? “Fine. How have you been?” He uttered a derisive sound. “It’s been hellish in all honesty.” My heart soared. “It has?” I asked cautiously. “Yes, well, immigration was not pleased with me. Rescinded my passport and gave me the boot.” My spirits plummeted when I realized he wasn’t talking about me at all, but the comment threw me into a different kind of turmoil. “Oh my god!” That had never crossed my mind despite the fact that it was the expired visa that had brought about our ‘mess’ to start with. “Your passport? Didn’t … Did you tell them you’d married an American?” “Actually, they weren’t thrilled about that either. Accused me of … Well, in all honesty I’m not altogether certain what they thought I was up to, but they were damned nasty about it. I suppose they didn’t think I was a terrorist or I’d be in a hole somewhere.” 156

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“Oh my god! I didn’t even think of that! It must have been awful!” “Yes, well, I didn’t call to complain. Just figured I ought to give you a heads up. I’m sure they’ll be contacting you about it if they haven’t already.” Lovely! I wasn’t miserable enough? He released a pent up breath. “Mostly I called to see if you’d come to any kind of decision.” My heartbeat sped up again. “Was I supposed to?” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. “I thought we’d agreed to separate so we could think things over, figure out what would be best.” “Oh.” I must have missed that part. “Thing is, I can’t think straight around you, Mila. I needed some space.” “Alright,” I said unhappily, wondering how much space he needed. Honest to god! He was on the other side of the Atlantic! “You didn’t get an annulment?” “You told me to wait.” Silence. “I asked you not to do anything rash—anything else rash.” “Oh.” I digested that. Was he suggesting I get one now? Probably. I realized he was as uncomfortable and uncertain as I was. “Giles?” I said, trying to gather my courage. “Yes, darling?” My chin wobbled at that endearment, even though I knew it was probably just habit. “I’ve been thinking ….” “Go on.” “I just want you to know that …. Whatever you decide is best for you is alright. I’ll understand.” 157

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He released a ragged breath. “I miss you like the very devil, Mila. It’s just …. Things are complicated, you know? I’ve got Jacob to think about. My father’s on a rampage. There’s work …. I travel a great deal for the company, but this is home base. You have your daughters …. You live on the wrong side of the Atlantic ….” “I know.” At least he’d been sweet enough not to point out the age difference and the fact that I was too old to have a baby. That would’ve been far more hurtful. “I told you I understood. I really do.” “What do you think about a …. Well, don’t get upset! I was thinking if I could ever straighten out this mess with the buggers in immigration that maybe we could try it for a while?” I couldn’t believe he’d said what I thought he had. “Live together, you mean?” “That was sort of what I had in mind, yes.” I felt delirious. “I’d like that, Giles. I think it’s a great idea! That way we could at least see if we can manage to work things out for both of us.” “You’re sure?” He sounded relieved. “I’m sure.” “That’s good then!” He chuckled a little shakily. “That’s bloody great! Now all I have to do is try to convince immigration to let me back into the country ….” He hadn’t invited me to meet him England, I noticed—probably a little too hot considering the comment about his father. “How long do you think that’ll take?” “I don’t know. I have to be in Toronto next week. I don’t suppose you could meet me?” For about five seconds I was over the moon. “Uh … I don’t have a passport and I don’t think I can cross over without one now.” “You don’t have a passport?” he asked as if he’d never heard of such a thing. 158

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“We didn’t used to need one to go to Canada or Mexico. Actually, I’ve never out of the country.” Or wanted to before. I felt like kicking myself! “Oh. I don’t suppose there’d be much chance of getting one on such short notice. Work on it, though. It won’t hurt to have it. Maybe next time around?” We hung up shortly after that. I leapt to my feet and danced around the room with excitement. He didn’t want an annulment! He wanted to try it! I was so excited I decided to dash over to my daughter, Tiffany’s, house and tell her. It was too exciting for the phone and she’d been in my court the whole time. I wanted to tell her first. The phone rang again as I started out the door. I dashed back and snatched it up. “Hello?” “I love you, Mila.” My cup runneth over! It took me a moment to gather myself. “I love you, Giles! I love you so much! I’ve missed you!” “Be good for me, darling. Don’t give up on me yet. I’ll see you when I can.” I hung the phone up again and screamed. I ran in place. I felt like jogging to my daughter’s house. The thought brought my ‘problem’ to mind and I looked down at myself unhappily. I had to get in shape! I couldn’t let Giles see me like this! It was dark out, though, and I didn’t want to have a nasty encounter with a snake! I took the car.

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That phone call sustained me until the next … and the next. I lived from phone call to phone call, miserable in between, but deliriously happy when I got 159

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the chance to talk to him. I went down to the post office the very next day and filled out the paperwork for a passport, and then waited, and waited … and waited. An immigrations officer showed up at my door. The woman looked me up and down. “Are you Mrs. Hawthorne?” I stared at her uneasily. “Uh … yes,” I said cautiously. “I’m with immigrations. May I come in to speak with you?” Like I could say hell no! I stepped back a little reluctantly and gestured for her to come in. She followed me to the living room and stopped to survey the room. “You have a nice home,” she said pleasantly. I supposed that was to start things off friendly. “Thank you. Have a seat.” Nodding, she sat down on the couch and put the briefcase she’d been carrying on the coffee table. “Is this alright?” she asked as it apparently occurred to her that I might not want her scratching up my table with her briefcase. “That’s fine. Could I get you something cold to drink?” “It is hot. I’d like that if you don’t mind.” At least she was making an effort to be polite, I thought as I headed into the kitchen to get drinks. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? Surely if she’d come to be nasty she would’ve been nasty right off? “I have water, sweet tea, and cola,” I called out. “Water will be fine,” she responded almost directly behind me. Ok, so maybe she wasn’t as polite as I’d thought! Or maybe she expected me to dash out the back door? I took two bottles of water from the fridge and led her back to the living room. I had to explain to her how and when I’d met Giles and why I’d decided to marry him. I really didn’t like having to explain anything like that to a complete 160

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stranger who wanted to analyze it, looking for lies. Our adventure actually sounded a little … sordid, I discovered, repeated … aloud, like a bad script for a porno. Not that I gave her any details, but she asked me point blank if we had consummated our vows. I squirmed a little, but, damn it! I wanted Giles. “Actually, we consummated right after we met—all the way until we got off the train the first time to see colonial Williamsburg, and then all the way up to New York. And then we picked up again in Chicago and consummated until we got off in Salt Lake City. We were just a little worn out with consummating by the time we got married—and to be honest, we were both drunk at the time—so I’m not at all sure we consummated our wedding night, but we did consummate all the way from Las Vegas home—here.” She was red faced by the time I finished. She cleared her throat. “So … you’re saying you fell in love and got married two weeks later?” I narrowed my eyes at the top of her head, but wiped that expression off and smiled when she looked up. “I fell in love with Giles to moment I saw him.” She nodded and went back to scribbling in her note book. “Have you met my husband, Giles?” She glanced at me. “No ma’am. I didn’t handle that.” “Seen him?” “We have a photo of him in the file.” “Well! There you go!” She actually smiled, although she tried to hide it. She asked me a lot of personal questions about Giles, most of which I didn’t know the answers to. That worried me. “We were actually sort of busy exploring other things,” I said. “So you said.” I ground my teeth. Suggesting I was lying? “But you’d been drinking when the ceremony actually took place. How much?” 161

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“I don’t know.” “Enough to consider your judgment impaired?” Slightly. “Look. I’ll admit we’d had a few drinks and we might not have been thinking as clearly as if we’d been sober, but there is no way in hell I would’ve agreed to go in and get married if I hadn’t wanted to. And I don’t believe Giles would’ve unless he’d wanted to.” “But you two never actually lived together?” I stared at her. “Honest to god! We didn’t have months! We had weeks, but we spent that entire time in a tiny room—together—twenty four hours a day. You can’t get more together than that! I’ve spent more time with Giles than I spent with my last husband, and I was married to that bastard almost ten years!” “There’s no need to get angry, Mrs. Hawthorne. It’s my job to ask these questions.” I felt my chin wobble but I was not going to cry in front of the woman! I sniffed against the sting. “Then put down there that I want my husband! He can’t get back into the country and I can’t get over there because I can’t get a damned passport either! All I can do is talk to him on the phone!” She sent me a sharp look. “You’re still in communications with him?” Fear went through me. “You’re going to cut off phone privileges, too?” She pursed her lips. “No ma’am. I just need to note that this is an active relationship.” “It’s not very damned active when he’s over there I’m over here! God only knows what it’s costing in phone charges!” She studied me. “So he calls you? You don’t call him?” “He travels. I never know when he’ll be there,” I said a little stiffly. “And what line of work is he in?” I bit my lip. “He works for his father’s company. I don’t actually know what he does. I never asked.” 162

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“Actually, he’s now acting CEO. His father turned the company over to him.” I gaped at her. “That … bastard!” I snarled angrily, jolting to my feet. “He just did that to keep Giles from moving over here!” The woman looked at me speculatively. “You’re referring to Lord Bromley? You’ve met him?” “In New York,” I said absently. I didn’t bother to tell her I didn’t know it was his father at the time. “He doesn’t approve.” “Does Mr. Hawthorne have any other family?” “Not that I’ve met. He has a little boy, Jacob.” “So his mother isn’t in the picture?” I frowned. Now that she mentioned it, it was odd that Giles had never spoken about his mother—not once. He hadn’t exactly been really open about himself at all, but he’d mentioned his father a number of times. That might mean his parents were divorced, but it seemed odd that he wouldn’t have said anything about her at all even if that was the case. “He never mentioned her,” I said finally. “According to his file, she’s deceased.” “Oh! That’s awful! Poor Giles! When did she die?” She glanced through her notes. “Cancer. Twenty years ago.” I plopped down on the seat of my chair again. My poor baby! He’d been so young when he lost his mother! “It must have been so hard on him.” “I think that covers everything,” the woman said, straightening the pages in her file and returning it to the briefcase. “If there’s anything else, I’ll be back in touch.” “Alright,” I said a little absently, getting up and following her to the door. As disturbing as I’d found the inquisition, I was buoyed once I got over my initial uneasiness by the hope that Giles would get a visa to come back, at least for a visit if nothing more permanent, or that I’d get my passport and get the chance to meet him in Toronto on his next trip. 163

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Another month and half dragged by before I finally got the passport, though. I was still thrilled, angry that they’d dragged their feet on it, but relieved to have it. “I got my passport!” I announced the next time Giles called. “Seriously? It took them long enough!” “I know. I think it was deliberately delayed.” “Bloody wonderful timing, too. I’m not going to be able to get out of here for a few weeks, at least.” “Oh,” I said, horribly disappointed. “I guess …. Never mind.” “What, darling?” “I just thought …. But I guess it isn’t a good idea.” “What idea?” “You don’t want me to come to you?” Silence. “Can you get away?” “I think I could manage it … if you want me to come?” “Of course I want you to come! I’ll see about the arrangements for you. I’m going to be really tied up for the next couple of weeks, though. I don’t want you kicking your heels and feeling neglected. I’ll clear up some time as soon as I can so we can do something together.” I sighed. “Giles, there’s only one thing I want us to do together at the moment. I’ve missed Sir Fredrick awfully.” He burst out laughing. “God! I’ve missed Fifi, too! You won’t be upset with me if I’m dashing in and out?” “At least I’d get to watch you dashing. I haven’t seen you in forever!” I heard him swallow. “I’ll make the arrangements, love.”

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Chapter Eleven Trying to chase Giles down was the hardest work I’d ever done. The traveling exhausted me, but I was determined to get to him whenever and wherever possible. Over the next several months we met in England twice, Canada twice, and once in the Cayman islands. That was actually the least grueling trip, because it was the shortest in travel time, but it turned out to be the least rewarding. He spent most of his time in business meetings and I spent most of my time in the hotel room. As tired as I was, most of the time, I did my best to make the most of the little time we did get to spend together—quality over quantity—but when I realized it had been eight months since Giles had left and I hadn’t spent as much time with him, despite my efforts, as I had in the weeks we’d traveled together I was almost ready to give up. I’d begun to hate his father. I knew it was all his fault. Giles was running himself ragged all because his father had taken it into his head that I wasn’t suitable. How could I fight that? If I could only have a chance, I knew I could make Giles happy, but it didn’t look like I was going to get that chance. We didn’t have a life together. Poor Giles didn’t have a life at all! Every time I thought about throwing myself a pity party, though, I reminded myself that I wasn’t the only one suffering. Poor little Jacob couldn’t be seeing much of his father and Giles could hardly breathe for the work piled on him. How could I abandon him when the time we spent together was just about the only time he had to himself?

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In any case, I was chicken hearted. I couldn’t bring myself to do the dirty deed. Giles was bound to realize when he had a moment to think that it just wasn’t going to work for us and we couldn’t make it work. Apparently he reached the same conclusion I did at about the same time. I’d flown to Canada to meet him again and had arrived before him. He looked so exhausted when he finally came in that I wanted to fuss over him, but he hated it when I did that. I suspected it was because he felt as if I was ‘mothering’ him, which hurt and made me angry, too. Wives babied their husbands! All wives did at some time or other. Their husbands just didn’t interpret it that way because they were usually younger. “You look tired. Bad trip?” He dropped his briefcase and overcoat and gathered me into his arms. “Too many trips,” he muttered. “Did you eat? Should I order something for you?” He shook his head. “I had something on the plane.” He frowned. “You know, I don’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal. Do you cook?” I was disconcerted. “I can, if that’s what you’re asking. You want to try to see if we can get a place with a kitchenette?” “For a touch of home away from home?” he asked, smiling wanly. “It’s a thought. It might be the only time I get the home experience.” I got into bed while he went to shower, worrying about him, wondering what might have brought on his mood. Generally, tired or not, his mood seemed to lighten as soon as he saw me. He looked a little more relaxed when he climbed into bed with me. I immediately moved closer and he curled an arm and leg around me, nuzzling my neck. I stroked his hair. “If you’re too tired tonight, honey, it’s alright.” 166

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He sighed gustily. “It’s a hell of a thing to be too damned tired to enjoy my wife when I finally get a chance to,” he said tightly, rolling away from me. I studied him for a moment, wondering if he would rebuff me if I crowded him again. “You’ll feel better tomorrow,” I offered. “I have to fly out again tomorrow,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Something has come up.” I was so disappointed! “No one else can handle it?” “Apparently not.” He draped an arm across his eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” My throat closed. I’d acknowledged myself that it wasn’t working and that he was bound to realize that after a while and it still made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. “I want to come home to my wife at night—to go to an actual home and not another damned hotel. I want to sit down to dinner with my family. My son hardly knows me.” The urge to cuddle him assailed me again, but this time I knew he wouldn’t allow it at all. “You’re right,” I agreed sadly. “There isn’t enough of you to go around. It hurts me to see you so tired all the time. And Jacob needs you. He’s so little now, it might seem like it would hardly make a difference, but the truth is there is no time when he’ll need you more that he does now.” He lowered his arm and reached for me, pulling me close. It deprived me of the opportunity to weep like I wanted to. If I cried, he’d know, and if he knew it would make it harder for him than it already was and there was no way I was going to add to the strain he was already under. Instead, I snuggled closer and enjoyed feeling him in my arms for what I knew would be the last time. 167

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****

The holidays had always been my favorite time of the year. There was just something exciting and invigorating about the first cool days of fall and the anticipation of the holidays that would follow until the winter doldrums arrived. I thought it was probably a combination of relief from the summer heat, the excitement of the children, and the feasts to be planned, cooked, and consumed. It was almost like having one continuous party from Halloween until New Years because we went all out for each and every holiday, gathering together in a way we never did the rest of the year. For once I didn’t look forward to Christmas with much enthusiasm, though. I hadn’t heard from Giles in almost two weeks. Not that I’d expected anything happy to come of it when I did, but I figured he would at least let me know when our divorce, or annulment, was final. It didn’t help my feelings that I’d finally concluded I’d entered menopause. My periods had always been irregular and I’d been too wrapped up in Giles for months to notice they’d stopped altogether. When I finally did notice, though, it depressed me more. I was never, ever, going to be able to bear a child again. That shouldn’t have depressed me since I hadn’t had one in years and years and I’d been too damned old, really, to have one for years and years, even if I still had my periods. But it did depress me because it was so final. I loved Giles more than anything and I would’ve loved to have had his baby … and now I never would. At least I had the comfort of knowing we’d both tried to make it work. I couldn’t find fault with Giles for his efforts. He’d worn himself to the bone trying. I hoped, once his father discovered he’d succeeded, he would ease off on Giles. I struggled to throw off my depression and focus on getting into the spirit of the season. 168

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I’d neglected my children and grandchildren in trying to make my marriage work. I was out of the country on Halloween and barely got back in time for Thanksgiving. My daughters had ended up doing all of the cooking and planning when that was usually my job—one I wasn’t ready to give up as the matriarch of the family. Christmas was going to be at my house, as usual, and I threw myself into it, trying desperately to make the best use of the distraction. I decorated the house from top to bottom to cheer myself up. My daughters and I worked up the menu for the Christmas feast and settled on who was cooking what. I dug out my Christmas music and kept it playing most of the day and into the evenings and I changed out the cinnamon sticks and greenery I’d decorated with regularly enough to keep the whole house smelling like cinnamon and pine. There was the usual wrangling with the in-laws about when to unwrap presents and when to have the big feast. Tiffany had divorced the year before, so that eliminated her in-laws from the battle, but I still had Lilly’s mother-in-law to contend with and Torie’s boyfriend’s parents. All my well laid plans went out the window when I discovered Lilly and her family would be having Christmas dinner with the in-laws and Torie meant to join her boyfriend’s parents on Christmas Eve. That left me with Christmas supper! Shaking off my pique, I changed our gathering time to Christmas evening. We’d have a late feast and then open presents. Tiffany and her daughter, Jasmine, wouldn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas dinner or Christmas Eve, I discovered. No problem! I’d have two feasts—a small one just for the three of us at mid-day and a bigger one later when everyone arrived. I’d just pulled the turkey out of the oven when the doorbell rang. Perfect timing! “Just a minute!” I yelled, looking around for a place to set the pan down.

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Deciding I must have left the front door locked, I checked the pots on the stove, shoved the rolls in and dashed to the front door. “I’m sorry! I thought I’d unlocked ….” The words died on my lips as I jerked the door open and saw Giles standing on my porch. I stared at him in disbelief for several moments and finally shrieked joyfully and threw myself at him. He laughed at my enthusiasm, staggering back a few steps. I’d already done it before it occurred to me that I’d been expecting the news that I’d been dumped. Even as I struggled to backtrack, though, Giles found my lips and kissed me so thoroughly it completely rattled me. “How did you get here?” I asked breathlessly when he finally released me. “Plane, boat, and train,” he said wryly. “It’s the very devil trying to travel at this time of year.” He set me aside after a moment and turned to look behind him and I discovered for the first time that he wasn’t alone. A woman who looked to be around my age stood beside the car parked in my drive. Beside her was a little boy. “Jacob! Come and meet your new mum,” he called. I stared at Giles’ face in wonder for several moments and finally turned to look at the little boy, who’d merely burrowed more tightly against the woman. Giles shook his head. “She doesn’t bite … often,” he added under his breath. “Giles!” He chuckled. “He’s a bit shy. I didn’t think it would be a good idea leave his nanny. Agatha, bring Jacob.” The smell of burning bread suddenly assailed me. “Oh my god! The rolls! My dinner! Come in!” I said, rushing back into the house. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a false alarm. Smoke billowed out of the oven when I jerked the door open and I saw the rolls were completely charred. “Shit!” 170

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“Kitchen disaster?” Giles asked from the doorway, amusement in his voice, although he tried to look sympathetic. “Just the rolls … so far!” After checking everything and discovering to my relief that I hadn’t burned anything else, I turned the fire off and grabbed a potholder to drag the pan of burned rolls out of the oven. The smoke alarm went off. I turned the vent fan on and dashed to the back door to open it and then ran to the alarm and began fanning the potholder back and forth in front of the sensor. Giles was grinning at me from the door when I turned around. “Everything under control, now, love?” “Everything’s … Wonderful!” I hurried toward him and hugged him again. “I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He lifted his brows. “What? And spoil the surprise? “Truthfully, I didn’t know when I’d make it. The buggers at immigration finally coughed up a permit for me, though. And then, of course, I had to make arrangements for Jacob and Agatha.” Reminded that Giles hadn’t arrived alone, I pulled away and looked around. I saw that Agatha and Jacob were still standing in the foyer, watching us. I smiled at Jacob. “Hello, Jacob.” He stared at me for a moment solemnly and then smiled and hid his face against his nanny again. “If you could just tell me where to settle him, Mrs. Hawthorne?” “Oh! Dinner’s ready. We can eat when Tiffany and Jasmine get here. Why don’t you settle in the living room for now?” I’d barely gotten the words out when Tiffany and Jasmine came in. “Who’s car …?” Tiff broke off when she saw Agatha and Jacob and then spotted me standing in the kitchen doorway with Giles. 171

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I grinned at her. “They let Giles back in the country!” She grinned back at me and Giles. “That’s fantastic!” “Isn’t it?” I didn’t want to let go of Giles for a moment, but my carefully prepared meal was cooling. “I hope everybody’s hungry?” Jasmine had been studying Jacob. “Who’s that?” I smiled at her and then at Jacob. “My son.” Jasmine gaped at me. “You’ve got a son, Grammy?” “I do now,” I said, ignoring the flicker of discomfort that went through me when she called me Grammy. Well, I thought, Giles will have to get used to it! “Everyone into the living room while I set the table! Scoot!” Jasmine charged toward the door and then skidded to a halt. “Come on, Jacob!” “Don’t worry about Jacob,” I said when I saw he wasn’t certain whether he wanted to go with her or not. Turning to Giles again, I caught his face between my palms. “You are hungry?” “Famished!” “Good! I cooked a pile of food!” I could tell Tiff was dying to ask questions while we set the table and shuttled the food from the kitchen into the dining room, but there was no way for a discussion that wouldn’t be overheard. She finally followed me into the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” “It was a surprise to me, too,” I said ruefully. I had my first run in with the difference in our customs when I called everyone to eat. Agatha had been sitting in the living room uncomfortably with Giles and the children. At that, she got up. “Jacob usually eats with me in the nursery.” I gaped at her. “On Christmas?” 172

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She glanced from me to Giles. He shrugged. “We’ll consider arrangements later. For now … we’re guests.” He looked at Jacob sternly. “Best manners.” Jacob was so solemn it broke my heart! I wanted to scoop him up and kiss him, but I knew he was going to have to get used to me. I gave Giles a look and finally grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen. “You aren’t a guest … are you? I thought ….” I broke off and bit my lip. “I thought you had come home to stay.” His eyes gleamed. He settled his hands on my shoulders and pressed his forehead to mine. “I have, love. I told my father I was abdicating, dumped the lot of it in his lap, packed my bags …. I told you I needed to come home to you at night. I want to sleep with you and wake up with you. Do you think you can handle having me underfoot that much?” I was so relieved! “I thought …. When you said that it wasn’t working, I thought you meant us.” He lifted his head to stare at me frowningly. “What would give a bloody stupid idea like that, darling? There’s nothing wrong with us …. Is there? It was everything else that was the bleeding problem. You thought I meant to quit on us? And you were alright with that?” I shook my head at him. “I could see what a strain it was on you—trying to be there for everyone in your life. Jacob and your father were first.” “They came first. That doesn’t mean they are first.” I smiled at him, touching his face and then his shoulders. “I just can’t believe you’re here.” I shook my head. “You quit your job?” He shrugged. “I expect the old man will come around—eventually—and be a bit more reasonable. If not, I’ve got a few quid put back. I think it’ll hold us until I find something.

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Assuming my father sees reason, though, I’d thought we’d try to split the difference between us … six months on this side of the Atlantic, six months on the other side. How does that sound?” “Like heaven!” I lifted up to my toes and kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s a good thing you’re home for Christmas. The man of the house is supposed to carve the turkey. It’s tradition.” It wasn’t quite the party atmosphere we were accustomed to in our family gatherings. Agatha was clearly ill at ease. Jacob sat in his seat and stared wide-eyed at the adults around the table most of the time without uttering a word, and Giles didn’t look entirely comfortable either. The food turned out well, though, in spite of everything. I was pleased with it, anyway, and everyone complimented the cook by eating seconds. Jasmine immediately demanded desert once she’d finished. Tiff glared at her. “We don’t cut the cakes until everybody is here,” she said. I waved that off. “They had their chance. What would you like, sweety?” “Carrot cake,” she said promptly. “Is it alright for Jacob to have desert?” I asked Giles. “Would you like some cake, son?” Jacob stared at him wide eyed a minute and finally nodded vigorously, the first sign of enthusiasm I’d seen. I got up and cut the cake. “I’ll take care of clean up, Mom,” Tiff said when everyone had finished their desert. I smiled my appreciation and led Giles back into the living room. “Pardon, Mrs. Hawthorne, but Master Jacob should have his nap,” Agatha said, having followed us into the living room. “Oh! Arrangements.” 174

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“They usually share a room,” Giles said. “Good! I only have one guest room. It’s at the top of the stairs, Agatha, at the end of the hall.” I smiled at Giles when they’d disappeared. “I don’t suppose you’d like a nap?” I whispered hopefully. “I don’t want a nap,” Jasmine informed me. “Just as well,” I said tartly. “I didn’t invite you! Why don’t you run along outside and play?” “There’s nobody to play with.” “We’re going back home to take a nap!” Tiff called from the kitchen. “Go outside and play, Jasmine.” What a good daughter! Jasmine sulked, but she got up and left. Sighing, I settled beside Giles on the couch and leaned my head on his shoulder. “Do you want to watch the game?” “What game?” “Oh, I don’t know. There’s always some kind of game on the TV during the Christmas doings and the guys are all usually watching it.” “I think I might take you up on that nap after all,” he murmured getting up, pulling me up from the couch, and leading me to the stairs. I knew it was really bad of me to coax him upstairs for sex in the middle of the afternoon, but it had been so long I didn’t want to wait until after all of the Christmas doings were done! I was humming by the time we’d both undressed and fell into bed together. Actually, I’d been humming since he’d arrived and it had jacked upward several notches as soon as we started upstairs. I’d been ready to tear his clothes off and mount him where he stood! We were both too eager to take it slowly. We tried to draw our pleasure in one another out by changing positions several times, but there was no holding back the tide for long. 175

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I decided after I caught my breath from the first climax that I could have my cake and eat it too by coaxing him into another round once he’d had time to recover a little and Sir Fredrick came out of his faint. The pain in my lower abdomen started as I lay drowsing in post coital bliss. Thinking, at first, that it was merely a muscle cramp from coming so hard, I massaged it a little absently and began to drift again as it eased off. The second cramp was a lot harder to ignore. It woke me completely. Truthfully, it scared me. I relaxed fractionally as it eased, struggling to think what might have caused it. It was too low to have anything to do with my dinner, I was sure, and it certainly didn’t feel like gas although it was in the right place for it. It had been too sharp for any intestinal problems I had ever had, though. Appendix? Kidneys? The third pain was hard enough it made me break out in a sweat and alerted Giles to the fact that I was in distress. “What is it, darling?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. It just hurts.” “Is there something I can get you?” I couldn’t think of anything I thought would help. “It was just a couple of twinges. It’s gone now ….” I didn’t even manage to get the disclaimer out when I had another pain. I tried to hide it from Giles as long as I could but it very quickly reached a point where I not only couldn’t, I was hurting too badly to be aware of much besides the pain. “You need a doctor,” Giles said tightly, genuine alarm in his eyes that made my own alarm mount. I didn’t argue with him. “I think I do.” He paled, as if my lack of argument had alarmed him even more. I began to think we were feeding one another’s anxieties, but I’d moved past thinking it was ‘nothing’ anyway. 176

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“Can you walk? Or do you need me to carry you? Never mind! That was a bloody stupid question!” Rolling out of the bed he dressed quickly and then strode to my closet and dug through the clothing until he found a robe. When he’d helped me into it, he scooped me up and crossed the room to the door, fumbling for a few moments before he managed to get the door open with me in his arms. We met up with Lilly and her family, just arriving, as Giles reached the yard. Lilly looked at me and Giles in alarm. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know,” I groaned. “I need to get her to a doctor.” “We can take her.” “Don’t, Lilly!” I gasped, clutching at Giles a little frantically. “I want to go with Giles.” The fact that Lilly didn’t argue was telling. I knew I must look god awful if she was alarmed enough to buckle so quickly. “We’ll lead the way.” She loaded her two children back in the car as Giles struggled with the door handle. Seeing his problem, Billy, Lilly’s husband, rushed over and opened the door. “Thanks!” Giles said absently, settling me carefully in the passenger seat and then pulling the seatbelt around me. He searched his pockets for the keys as he rounded the car. Billy had already jumped back into his car and started it by the time Giles managed to get the keys in the ignition. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I’ve ruined everyone’s Christmas.” “Hush, love. You haven’t ruined anything. They’ll get you fixed up at hospital.” I didn’t argue with him, but I had a bad feeling they wouldn’t. By the time we reached the edge of town I was convinced I was dying. I’d never hurt so badly in my life—not that I could recall anyway. It was all I could do to keep from groaning every time the pain came at me again—and it did. It would ease off just enough to 177

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allow a ray of hope and then come at me again in a fresh wave that was worse than the last. I’d never been more grateful to see the doors of a hospital in my life than I was when Giles finally pulled up under the shelter of the emergency room. An attendant rushed out with a wheelchair before Giles could shut the car off and get out. “You can’t leave the car here. You’ll have to move it.” Giles uttered a profanity. “She’s in terrible pain. She needs a doctor.” “I’ll get her inside while you park,” the attendant said firmly. Giles looked like he wanted the punch the man, but he got back in the car and moved it. They took me straight to the back, to my relief. I’d more than half expected to have to sit in the waiting room, or spend an hour filling out paperwork. It flickered through my mind that they must be wondering about the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything but a robe, but I hurt too much to be embarrassed about the possibility of their speculating. I was not going to tell them I’d been having sex, though, just before the pain started! Ok, so maybe they’d figure that out if they examined down there, but I wasn’t going to volunteer the information! “What’s going on?” a nurse asked briskly, joining us as the attendant wheeled me to a room. “It’s my stomach.” “Let’s get you into a gown. Do you need help changing?” “Giles?” “Is that your husband?” “Yes.” 178

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“They’ll send him in in a minute. Take everything off and put the gown on and I’ll help you get up on the table.” It was a nightmare. I was in so much pain by that time that it had turned my mind to mush. It took all I could do to figure out how to get my robe off and the damned gown on. I was relieved, slightly, when I could finally settle back on the examination table. Giles arrived about the time the doctor entered the room. The doctor turned to shoo him out. “I need to examine her.” “I’m her husband,” Giles said tightly. The doctor hesitated. “You’ll need to stay out of the way.” Dismissing Giles, the doctor moved to the side of the table. “Tell me where the pain is, Mila.” I was holding my stomach. “Here.” He pushed my hand away and settled his hands on my stomach, pressing hard enough I cried out. “When was your last period?” I struggled to search my memory for the information. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” “Any chance you could be pregnant?” “No.” I almost started crying then. The doctor continued to press against my stomach, moving his hands around—frowning. “You’re certain you can’t be pregnant?” After a moment, he told me to draw my knees up and spread my legs. “We’ve got some bleeding. Get a portable sonargraph in here. She’s dilating.” He examined me vaginally. “She’s already at six.” He turned to look at Giles. “She’s pregnant. Do you know how far along she is? When did the pains first start?” Giles stared at him blankly. “A couple of hours ago … an hour and half anyway. The pains got bad really fast.” 179

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The nurse returned, pushing a squeaky wheeled machine. There was a brief flurry of activity while they hooked it up and turned it on. “I need have a look in here, Mila,” the doctor said. “I need to see how far along you are.” I struggled to focus on the man’s face, tried to figure out what he was talking about. “How far along?” “You’re pregnant, Mila.” The shock that went through me jolted through the pain. “Pregnant? I can’t be pregnant! I’m in menopause.” “No. You’re pregnant,” he said grimly. “There’s no mistake. Your womb is enlarged and you’re dilated. We just need to find out how far you are along.” He squeezed an icy glob of jelly out on my belly. “I’m pregnant?” I echoed. How could I be pregnant, I wondered in total disbelief? I’d gained a little weigh. But I didn’t look pregnant. I didn’t feel pregnant. It hit me abruptly why I didn’t feel pregnant or look pregnant. I wasn’t far enough along to have any symptoms. I was having a miscarriage. I started crying. “I’m losing it. Don’t let me lose my baby!” “Calm down. That isn’t going to help. Let’s just have a look and we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.” He ran the end of the wand over my stomach. “Holy cow! Do you see that?” I turned to look at the image on the screen. “What?” Giles gasped from the corner of the room. The doctor stared at the scanner hard. “You aren’t having a miscarriage. You’re having a baby. You’ve got to be at least thirty six weeks. Let’s get her prepped and into a delivery room.” He turned to look at Giles. “If you want to be there for the birth, you need move. Get cleaned up. Get in a suit. This one’s in a hurry.” 180

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I was in too much shock and too much pain to fully assimilate what was happening around me. I searched the room for Giles as they put the side rails up and began trying to maneuver the gurney out the door. I caught a glimpse of him hurrying away with a nurse as I was wheeled out of the room. I wrestled with the pain while the gurney shuddered beneath me as they pushed me down a long corridor. We reached an elevator and the vibrations stopped for a short time and then I was being moved down another corridor. My water broke as they helped me from the gurney onto a delivery table. The few thoughts that I could grasp and hold on to weren’t pleasant ones. I hadn’t seen a doctor even once since I’d gotten pregnant. I’d been dieting and exercising frantically to try to get rid of the ‘fat’ I’d picked up on vacation—my baby. Giles’ baby! No wonder I hadn’t been able to get rid of the bulge I’d noticed! I struggled to keep from crying, but I could feel the tears streaming down my face anyway and into my hair. I’d been mourning the fact that I couldn’t have Giles’ baby and I was already pregnant! Please let it be alright! Someone brushed at the tears and I opened my eyes to discover Giles was standing beside me. He was as white as a sheet and there was a tremor in his hand as he caressed me. “It’s alright, love. It’s going to be alright.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than me. I grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly as another pain hit me. Everyone else in the room was moving around us, frantically making preparations, racing the labor pains, which were intensifying by leaps and bounds and had ceased to feel like waves and become one endless torment. “If you’re feeling pressure, Mila,” the doctor said, “you can push.” I didn’t feel pressure! I felt pain! When I felt my belly tighten again, though, I started struggling to push. The pain, the struggle, seemed to go on forever and then, almost as abruptly as it had started I felt cessation as the heaviness against 181

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my back slipped away. A thin wail followed the sensation and I gasped, trying to sit up. Giles slipped a hand behind my head and shoulders to help me. I blinked, trying to focus my eyes on the lump of quivering flesh the doctor was holding. “It’s a girl.” “Is she alright?” I asked anxiously. No one answered and my anxiety flared higher as the doctor settled the furious infant on my belly, examining her carefully. He finally flicked a look at me and grinned. “Everything looks good. You did a good job, Mila.” I expelled a breath of relief and looked up at Giles. He grinned at me shakily although he looked like he wasn’t certain how to feel. “It’s a girl. We’ve got a daughter.” Everyone, including me, Giles, my daughters, and the hospital staff, were still in a state of shock when I was finally settled in a room. Lilly had called my other daughters and the room was really crowded, briefly, with my daughters, sons-inlaw, and grandchildren, until the hospital staff shooed most of them out. My daughters battled good naturedly for a chance to hold the new baby for a minute and then examined her and exclaimed over how perfect she was. I had to suppose they’d been as terrified that there might be something wrong with her as I was when I discovered her. She was perfect, though. She was beautiful. I could already see that she was going to look a lot like her father. Relieved of that worry, exhausted, and finally free of pain, I lay drifting in and out of consciousness, listening to the babble of questions and exclamations. I opened my eyes when I felt Giles caress my cheek. “You weren’t going to tell me?” he said quietly. “So little faith, Mila?” “I don’t honestly know what I would’ve done if I’d actually known about it. I didn’t know, though. I swear! I didn’t have a clue. I thought it was my period for a while. Then I thought it was menopause when the period didn’t come—gas, 182

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bloating …. I thought I was getting fat. I thought of everything to explain it but what it was,” I said a little drunkenly. “What I’d like to know was where you were carrying it!” Lilly said. “You didn’t look pregnant! You didn’t even look fat!” I smiled with an effort, thinking about it. “Guess I’ve got a special hollow in my belly for babies. I didn’t look pregnant with any of you either … not till the very last, anyway.” “I suppose that explains it, then. She was a few weeks early according to the doctor. If she’d waited until she was due, we might have figured it out,” Torie said dryly and shook her head. “I still don’t see how you managed to hide a six pound baby! This has got to be a … record or something!” “She could get on that reality show— I didn’t know …. I always wondered how somebody could not know!” “Thirty six weeks,” Tiff said pensively, her eyes lit with laughter. “Wonder when that happened?” I grinned. “I’m thinking somewhere around Williamsburg,” I murmured, flicking Giles a warm look. “Or maybe around Philly?” Giles leaned down to nuzzle my ear. “If you hadn’t insisted on a ‘nap’, she wouldn’t have gotten here until next year,” he said, his voice shaking with laughter. “Now I’m going to be paranoid about ‘nap’ time.” I chuckled and then lifted my hand to his cheek. “Are you happy about your daughter?” I asked anxiously. He turned his head to kiss my palm. “You nearly scared the life out of me, if you must know, but I couldn’t be happier. And to think, if you hadn’t seduced me ….” I laughed. “Excuse you? I don’t remember it that way.” Giles grinned at me. “You remember it your way, and I’ll remember it the way it actually happened.” 183

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“I love you … even if you are an ass occasionally!” He sobered. “I love you, Mila Hawthorne. I love my Christmas presents— both of them. I’m glad I spotted that chapel and got you drunk enough to convince you to marry me.”

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Epilogue I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of having a nanny when Agatha had first arrived with Jacob. I’d managed my daughters without anybody else’s help, but I didn’t object for the simple reason that Jacob clearly needed her. I might have dispensed with her services once I managed to form a bond with Jacob myself, but she’d proven to be worth her weight in gold. I was still exhausted for the first few weeks of Christine’s life—babies were like that. They just sucked all the energy up around them through sleep deprivation. I had Agatha to help with feedings, though, and that not only helped me recover more quickly, it gave me a little time to get reacquainted with my husband and to get to know my son. Christine bonded all of us together, the little angel! Jacob was so thrilled and stunned about getting a new mother and a new sister on the same day that he couldn’t stop talking about it and spent every moment he was allowed hanging over her crib and gently patting her. I had to credit her for mostly being responsible for the fact that I managed to form a bond with Jacob so quickly. I would’ve tried my very best just for Giles’ sake even if he hadn’t been lovable—and some children just weren’t! Jacob was hungry for love, though, and that made him easy to love. Giles’ father unbent when he discovered he was a new grandfather. He came for a visit and stayed nearly a week, making funny faces at Christine to get her to smile, and I decided to forgive him for trying to ruin things for me and Giles when I realized how much he doted on Giles and his grandchildren. He apparently decided that he was going to have to put up with me.

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I think he was mollified to an extent when he saw how well Giles and I got along. We were really perfect for one another, regardless of the age difference. I knew how to make Giles comfortable and give him peace and he knew how to rock my world in the bedroom and keep me laughing outside it. We had one minor upset the second year of our marriage. I’d gotten pregnant again and that time I didn’t tell Giles until all the tests had been run that assured me the baby was fine. Giles hit the roof when he discovered I’d risked another pregnancy. I didn’t realize until after I delivered our son that it was because he was terrified he’d lose me. He made me swear I’d never, ever take that kind of risk again. I was happy to. Three little ones in the house were plenty even if I did have Agatha to help me contend with it. I wasn’t sorry I’d done it, though, even if Giles was really angry with me for a while. He was really happy with his family. He adored them. They adored him, and I adored all of them! Take that, Lord Bromley! I’d given my husband children and I was determined to live to be a hundred and leave a beautiful corpse!

The End

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