by Diana Fraser
“You’re rich, you’re beautiful and you’re charming. That makes you a marketer’s dream.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And is that why you’re interested in me?”
“I know plenty of rich, beautiful, charming women, but I’ve only ever wanted to make one my wife. And that’s you.” He sat further back in his chair and swirled his whiskey thoughtfully.
“I never did understand why. To begin with I thought it was my connections and then… and then, after I fell in love with you, I couldn’t bear to think it was that. I persuaded myself that, out of some miracle, you loved me. Me!” She shook her head. “And then, after the wedding, which we rushed to get organized before Papa died, but he didn’t even last till then, the lawyer spoke about his will and wishes and I thought, how could I have been so stupid? I was right the first time.”
He rose and came over to her by the window and extended his hand to hers. She reached out for him, watching his fingers curl around hers, not able to look up at him, all her thought and sensation wrapped up in the coming together of their hands. Something that happened all the time between people, whether they were known to each other or not. And yet this act seemed more intimate than any of the other intimacy they’d had recently.
“Taina, look at me.”
She swallowed and looked up at him as he spoke gently. “I’m so sorry. When your father and I discussed my marriage to you and I realized he was all for it, I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d always wanted a family of my own and as it happened that’s what he wanted. He was afraid for you, afraid you’d be taken advantage of, and he knew he was dying. He wanted to see you settled; he wanted both the company and you in good hands. And I am good hands, you know, Taina.”
She took his hands in hers and inspected them, her lips twisting into a wry smile. She looked up at him from beneath lowered lids. “I do know.” She kissed his palms before he held her face and kissed her tenderly. She melted deep inside, under the gentle command of his mouth. She had no thought, no feeling, that wasn’t connected to the movement of his lips against hers, the slide of his tongue against hers. Delicious shivers of sensual anticipation coursed through her body. She pulled away. “I do know, but maybe you should show me just how good your hands are?” She backed toward the bed.
He narrowed his eyes in mock anger. “You, habibti, are a tease.”
She cocked an eyebrow, her eyes checking the movement beneath his towel. “A tease? Someone who has no intention of following up? Is that what you think me?”
“Taina,” he said with a husky, dangerously low voice, as he advanced on her.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” she said, continuing to step back until the bed stopped her movement. Before she could side-step it, he grabbed her and proceeded to show her in no uncertain terms that “following up” was exactly what they’d be doing, and just how good his hands were.
Long after she’d fallen asleep, Daidan continued to hold Taina. He softly stroked her clear forehead and gently kissed her head, mussing her blond hair with his lips. She shifted every now and then and whimpered a little. He’d stroke her face, massage away the frown on her brow and she’d sigh, roll into his body, brush her lips against his chest and fall asleep once more.
How on earth had this woman whom he loved so dearly ended up pregnant by another man? It was so unlike her to have a casual relationship. Taina wasn’t casual about anything. The thought of her with another man made him sick to his stomach, but he didn’t stop caressing her. He might never know exactly what had happened but it wouldn’t stop him from being with her, from loving her. It also wouldn’t stop the hurt and frustration which refused to leave him.
Hours later, he eased his arms from beneath her and rose. He’d go to his study and work, just as he had done while she was away. At least that diverted his mind for a little while.
Taina awoke with a start once more. Two nightmares in one night. Wouldn’t it ever end? She blinked against the bright sun that was streaming into her bedroom. There was no sign of Daidan. His place in the bed was cold. Out of all the things he’d said, he’d not once said that he’d forgiven her. She doubted he ever would. No, he must have left as soon as they’d make love and she’d drifted off to sleep.
She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to repel the vestiges of her nightmare, her feelings of helplessness. She rubbed her wrists, as if she could feel the ropes chafing them, just as they had done. She doubted the feelings of humiliation and anguish would ever leave her. She stood up and pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail. She’d shower, she’d get herself together like she had every day since. She’d tidy everything up so that it was as if it had never happened. Just like she always did. Nothing more for Daidan to know about.
It’d be better for Daidan to believe the child was a product of some temporary liaison rather than the truth. Because she couldn’t trust Daidan’s passionate nature not to take the law into his own hands.
CHAPTER NINE
Taina pressed save on the computer and rolled her shoulders, checking to make sure the finishing touches to the presentation had been saved properly. Then she forwarded it to Daidan’s computer. The flickering light blinked off and she ejected the memory stick. At last! Done!
Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she pocketed the memory stick and rose from the desk where she’d been working for the past four hours, since three in the morning. Now it was morning and she could hear staff at work in the office with Daidan.
She went into the dining room where breakfast was laid out for anyone who wanted it. Her stomach turned at the smell of the cooked food and she picked up a croissant and glass of mineral water instead. She took a bite of the croissant, pulled a face and then left the rest, focusing on the water. Strange, she felt a little queasy. Too much work and not enough sleep.
She wandered into the living room with her glass of water. She sat down on the leather couch and suddenly remembered sitting on the same couch when she’d first come to see Daidan with her proposition in spring. Three months ago. An age ago. But now it was midsummer and the open windows let in warm morning air, not snow. And that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. She’d been afraid that this house would feel like a prison to her, as it had been when she’d grown up here. But to her amazement it hadn’t. And that was down to Daidan. He’d kept her safe here on the island but he hadn’t kept her a prisoner. He’d been right—it had been safest for them to stay on the island until the launch, and emotionally and intellectually she’d been free.
During the day she’d worked on the designs for the next collection, building on and incorporating her mother’s designs, bringing them up to the minute with her own spin. And at night Daidan had set her free, physically and emotionally. They’d come to know each other more intimately than ever before and she’d sensed a shift in him. He didn’t talk about her past any more. It seemed he’d come to some kind of decision to not let any jealousy, any sadness about what had happened to her to interfere with their future. And for that she was thankful.
She finished her water and walked along the corridor, lined with priceless artworks, to the office. His door was open wide and he along with two others were seated around the table, already going over the arrangements, down to the most minute detail.
“Taina.” He smiled. “Come and join us. We were just going through the last minute changes to the guest list.”
Taina hardly registered his comment, more struck by the warmth of his tone, so different to how it had been just weeks ago. “No, that’s fine. I’ve seen an earlier one. I guess there are no major changes to it?”
“Just a few tweaks.”
“Then I’ll let you get on. I’m only here to make sure you have the latest presentation materials.” She waved the memory stick. “I’ve already forwarded it to you, but I’ll just leave this here.” She looked down at a dozen other similar memory sticks. “Hm, maybe I’ll just make this final one a bit more distinctive.”
She returned a few minutes later with the palest pink nail varnish and proceeded to paint the outline of a flower onto the stick. She held it up to him.
“A kielo, if I’m not mistaken,” he said.
“Now you can’t get it confused.”
She waved goodbye and left them to it. She returned to her bedroom, drew the curtains closed and lay on her bed and was instantly asleep.
“Taina.” Daidan’s voice swept like a wave into her dreams, rousing her gently. He kissed her and her eyes fluttered open. “You’ve been asleep all day.” He frowned. “Are you feeling well?”
She stretched like a cat. “I’m feeling better now.”
“Dinner is served on the terrace.”
She knelt on the bed and put her arms around him and nuzzled his neck. “Hm, I think I’m in the mood for something pre-dinner.”
He grunted. “I take it you’re not meaning an aperitif.”
“You take it right,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt.
“It’s just as well it’s a cold platter,” Taina commented as she lifted the lids on the trays a few hours later.
Daidan sat down opposite her. His face was shadowed in the twilight that counted as night in midsummer. It would last only a few hours before morning broke again in the early hours. An owl hooted from the trees and the water lapped against the small pebbly beach under the deck. “If it had been a hot dinner, I’d have dealt with you in a much shorter time.”
She threw a bread roll at him and annoyingly he caught it and ate it. She sat back and picked at her food. “It’s so beautiful out here. Some of my favorite memories of Mama are of her sitting out here in the summer evenings, just dreaming, listening to music, talking in a low voice to Papa. When it was time for me to go to bed, I’d creep to the open window so I could hear them. And I’d go to sleep to the sound of their voices, their soft laughter and the murmur of the water.” She sighed.
“Special memories.”
“Yes. White nights. Mama had white-blond hair and loved beautiful clothes. Clothes that floated in the air, light as gossamer. They suited her personality. Magical, ethereal. Not quite at ease in the real world.”
Daidan reached for her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am. I miss her. I would have liked her company for longer. Liked to get to know her better. Liked to laugh with her like Papa used to do here, on the terrace.”
“You can do that with your own children.”
“Yes.” The thought made her happy. She suddenly remembered her queasiness. Could she be? After dinner she’d check. It seemed hard to believe that she’d fall pregnant quite so easily, but it wasn’t out of the question.
“And what, Taina, are you grinning at?”
“Just a thought.”
“We’ll have children, Taina. Just be patient.”
She didn’t say anything. Just looked up at him and smiled.
Taina paced up and down the bathroom as she waited for the pregnancy test to perform its magic. She’d bought some tests after their first lovemaking, but they hadn’t all been used since she’d gotten her period. Though it had been lighter than usual… Of course she couldn’t be pregnant. When had anything she’d wanted so badly come to pass? Patient? She’d only been patient up till the moment she realized she could be pregnant and then each minute until they went to bed had seemed like an hour.
She stopped at the basin upon which the pregnancy test stick was balanced. Nothing. She sucked in a harsh breath. Ridiculous. Her aching need to be pregnant had lessened with each passing week with Daidan. She still wanted children, but not with the same obsessional drive. What had been a sharp pain, motivating everything she did, had turned into a dull ache she could live with, which didn’t drive everything she said and did. She was with Daidan and, miraculously, they were happy. But then this… And now it seemed her whole life depended on whether that thin blue strip appeared on the test stick.
She paced again to the window, and looked out over the rear of the property. The land sloped down to the sea, silver under the crescent moon. The eerie light seemed to emphasize the feeling that she was standing on a precipice—change lay before her like a vast unknowing and unknowable plain. After tomorrow—the day of the launch—everything would change again.
A distant owl hooted, declaring its territory. She felt a buzz of excitement as she realized a good minute must have passed. She had to look back at the stick. Steeling herself for a disappointment, she looked straight ahead and caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked pale, her eyes unnaturally bright. She shook her head at the sight of herself because she’d also changed. Her short, choppy hairstyle had become neglected as she’d focused on her work. The makeup that she’d always taken such trouble to apply had been forgotten about as she’d been in such a rush to get to the studio and get back to work. Her skin was clear and glowing. She’d never looked more natural and she’d never felt more happy. Whatever was on the stick, she’d be happy, she decided. She would.
She looked down. There was no thin narrow strip of blue that she’d hoped for so much. She looked again, tilting it to the light. But it made no difference. She wasn’t pregnant. She blinked and stared at it for a few seconds more before she rose and walled off the hope. She gripped the basin and dropped her head as she suddenly felt faint. She splashed cold water onto her face and blotted it away with a soft white towel. Must have been something she’d eaten.
The sound checks were going on at the castle. The stage, seating, and lighting were all in place and the orchestra and singers were having a rehearsal.
Taina had been enjoying the sun and sketching the castle and various flowers as Daidan came and took a seat beside her. “How’s it sounding?”
“Fantastic.”
“Everything else okay?”
“Hope so.”
“Don’t sound so worried. It’ll all be fine. Everything’s arranged. Everything’s in place.”
“Yeah, I know. Most things anyway. There’s been a few more changes.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
She took his hand and rose. She suddenly felt faint and staggered.
Daidan held her tight. “What’s the matter?”
She swayed. “I feel… I feel…”
And then she fainted in his arms.
“It’s not necessary,” Taina hissed at Daidan as they waited for the doctor to appear. She’d already given blood and a urine sample. “We shouldn’t be away from the island. It’s a risk we don’t need to take.”
“It’s a greater risk not knowing why you fainted.” Daidan rose. “Doctor, good of you to see us at such short notice.”
Dr Linna smiled at Taina. “I’ve been seeing Taina since she was a young girl. Good to see you again, my dear.” He sat down. “Now, what’s the problem?”
“It’s just the heat. I was working in the sun and then walking through the castle grounds.”
“Have you fainted before in the heat?”
She shook her head.
“Well then, it’s worth investigating.” Without further comment the doctor went about doing routine checks.
At the end he set aside his stethoscope and took a folder of papers from the nurse who stopped by. Minutes passed as the doctor read through the results of the tests.
“So?” asked a worried Daidan.
The doctor smiled from one to the other. “Nothing to be concerned about. All very natural for someone who’s pregnant. Less than three months, I suspect.”
Taina jumped up and shook her head. “No, I can’t be. I’ve had my period and I’ve done a pregnancy test—“
“You have?” asked Daidan in surprise.
She nodded. “But it was negative.”
“Sometimes those tests are unreliable. Your blood test confirms it.”
Taina paced the room. “No, I’m sure it’s just the heat.”
“Is this something you weren’t expecting?” the do
ctor asked.
“Perhaps not yet,” said Daidan, looking anxiously at Taina. “But we have decided to have children.” The doctor and Daidan both looked at Taina. “Taina? What is it?”
Taina couldn’t answer. Shocked by the news after she’d persuaded herself she wasn’t pregnant, out of the blue she felt floored, unable to believe it. She gripped the window sill and pushed open the window gulping in the fresh air. She shook her head.
“Hm, sometimes it helps to see something a bit more concrete than a blue line. I’ll get the scanning equipment in and that should make things a bit clearer for you.”
Within minutes the equipment had been wheeled in and Taina lay with one arm behind her head looking at the screen as the doctor ran the scanner over her stomach. “There’s nothing there, doctor. I told you.” She turned her head to Daidan whose eyes were firmly on the screen. “Daidan, this is a waste of time. Let’s go home.” Then Daidan’s eyes opened wide. “There’s nothing there, I tell you,” she insisted.
He nodded. “Look, Taina, just look.”
She didn’t dare. Fear seized her and she continued to look at Daidan. She felt herself beginning to shake. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t.” She wiped away a tear as it tracked down her face, but more followed. “I can’t,” she repeated, her voice suddenly hoarse.
Daidan squeezed her hand. “Yes, you can. Look, Taina, look.”
Slowly Taina turned to face the screen. There the flowing, moving contours suddenly stopped to reveal a tiny form. She didn’t have to see its shape, its features, to know what she was seeing. She’d seen the same thing a year ago—larger, more clear, but the same and she remembered how she’d felt with vivid clarity. How she’d hated the vision, how she’d wished it dead.