The Valentine Child

by Jacqueline Baird

  'Because the male ego is a fragile thing and you severely dented mine and I was furious.' He laughed and kissed her mouth. 'But by the time I got up here I'd calmed down.

  'It wasn't so much the fact that you'd seduced me into bed to get yourself pregnant.' His black eyes lit up with amusement; he chuckled again. 'Actually I had the sameidea that night, and I was as mad as hell when you told me you were protected.'

  A wide smile curved Zoe's soft mouth, and, leaning forward, she bit his chin lightly. 'Devious devil; I did wonder who was seducing whom at the time.'

  'Yes, well, what really hurt today was the realisation that even after the last few days when I thought we'dfinally got it together his hand slid down over her buttocks, pressing her into his hard thighs '—certainly in bed,' he said thickly, capturing her mouth for a quick, hard kiss, 'you still didn't trust me enough to tell me the whole truth regarding Val.

  'If you'd simply told me another child might be another chance for our son. . . Instead I had to hear it from a doctor—a total stranger. If there's no trust between us, we have nothing,' he said with blunt conviction.

  'I'm sorry.' She sighed. She'd thought love was enough, but suddenly she saw that it would never be enough, not for her and certainly not for Justin. She glanced at his handsome face and shivered at his bleak expression.

  'I do trust you,' she said urgently. 'I was too afraid— the last few months with Val, the worry, the uncertainty; I wasn't thinking straight.'

  She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, and struggled to contain her tears. 'I was going to tell you I was pregnant in California until you dismissed me so coldly. But deep down I always knew you would do anything to help. Why else do you think I kept your name and made it Val's? Why else would I have told him about his father?'

  She could do no more; she had told him everything. She waited, heart pounding. His body wanted her—she could feel the hard weight of him beneath her—and she wasn't above using sex if that was what it took. 'I dolove you,' she whispered, moving sensuously against him, her slender limbs twining with his.

  He gave a hoarse groan. 'I believe you. As I said before, I have to. It would kill me to lose you again.' And then his mouth closed over hers with ravishing sweetness, the kiss so poignant, so tender that her eyes swam with tears.

  'Justin,' she said hoarsely as she felt his strong hands move over her, tracing her spine, curving her buttocks, and swiftly their positions were reversed.

  His deep voice whispered husky words of love and need and explicit intent as he shaped her to his passion. Then his hard mouth found hers again, his hands cupped her breast, his fingers teasingly tormenting on the taut peaks, and his mouth slid slowly from her lips to her throat and lower until her body writhed in wild desire.

  She gloried in his impassioned, guttural moan when her small hands explored his massive, hard, muscled body; she nipped his shoulder with small teeth in a paroxysm of delight when he finally slid between her trembling thighs, filling her with almost unbearable ecstasy.

  Consumed by a wild, raw passion, he lifted her bodily from the bed and she clung to him with legs and hands and teeth, buffeted by the force of his possession. They rolled around the huge bed in a delirious frenzy of passion.

  She saw his dark head rear back; his features were cast in stone, rigid with desire, then his muscular body moved with savage ferocity, his weight forcing her deeper into the bed. His dark eyes blazed with primeval need, and she revelled in his total loss of control until she cried his name, her body convulsing in endless, great, surging waves of earth-shattering pleasure.

  Justin stiffened. Head thrown back, he grated her name, then his big body, finding its release, sank against her in a long, frenzied moment of soul-shaking oblivion.

  Later, when she lay beneath him, aware of the weight of him and the hot dampness of their sweat-slicked bodies, she lifted her hand and swept a curl of black hair away from the beads of perspiration running down his proud forehead. 'I love you,' she whispered, exhausted but filled with a wondrous peace. She had her husband back, her marriage back.

  'And I love you.' The truth was in his deep, dark eyes as he smiled down at her. 'I always will.'

  'I know.' She smiled with sheer delight.

  'Confident little seductress, aren't you?'

  She laughed out loud. Then he kissed her gently and her blood began to pound all over gain.

  Much, much later, entwined in each other's arms, they talked softly of their love, their son, their fears.

  'Don't worry, Zoe, everything will be perfect. Take it easy,' Justin murmured, his mouth brushing tenderly against her ear.

  'But will you? Take it easy, I mean.' She remembered the days after Bertie's death when he'd worked twelve to eighteen hours a day. 'When Bertie died you turned into a workaholic. Why?'

  He gave her a twisted smile. 'Stubborn little thing, aren't you?' But she could see that he was hiding something.

  'Are you going to tell me?'

  'Darling.' He kissed the tip of her nose, his arms holding her closer. 'We've wasted so much time; let's forget the past, and go forward from here.'

  Thinking clearly for the first time in hours, Zoe turned in his arms to look steadily into his beloved face. 'I know Jess said you joined Bertie's firm simply to enhance your prospects with me. Is that why you had to work so long? Because you didn't really like what you were doing?'

  'I love my sister dearly.' Justin chuckled. 'But as an anthropologist she has a nasty habit of not simply examining cultures but also trying to analyse me.'

  'Was she right?'

  'Yes and no,' he drawled, amusement in his brown eyes. 'You see, when my father died '

  'Jess said you never forgave him.'

  'Rubbish. Jess has obviously said far too much, and I can see that you're not going to rest and let my poor, worn-out old body get some sleep until you're satisfied.'

  She curled sinuously against his naked flesh and felt his body stir. 'Not so old,' she teased.

  'Stop that and listen,' he said, with a faint smile. 'I forgave my father long before he died. But after his death, when Bertie had sold the restaurant and wound up his estate, there wasn't a lot of cash. I was all for dropping out of university and getting a job. Jess was still at school and there was only enough money to finance her education.

  'Bertie, bless him, insisted on helping out financially. He was very good to me all through law school; I paid him back every penny, but I still felt I owed him a debt of gratitude, and anyway I loved the old man. So later, when I was beginning to specialise in international law and he suggested I was wasting my talent and asked me to join his firm, I didn't like to disappoint him.'

  'But. . .' Zoe's blue eyes showed her dismay.

  Justin nuzzled her neck. 'And I might—I just might- have considered improving my chances with a certain stunning little blonde,' he teased, with a lazy smile. 'But to be serious. After Bertie died and the will was read '

  'You were upset he hadn't left you any money.'

  'For God's sake, Zoe!' He tensed and looked at her with grim eyes. 'Let me finish. I never wanted his money, but I was surprised at how little he had actually left you.

  I knew that tax would swallow up most of it, but it didn't matter to me in the least. I knew his dearest wish was that you and I should live at Black Gables and I earned more than enough for us to be able to continue doing so. But then you decided you wanted to sell the place.'

  'Not really,' she said slowly, feeling slightly ashamed of her shallow younger self. 'I simply thought it would be an easy way to get to share your bedroom.'

  Justin shot her a wicked, amused look. 'Rather a desperate measure, and I didn't realise that at the time.'

  His expression grew serious. 'I could deny you nothing. But I could not bear to see you lose the house forever. So I worked all the hours I could—and then some—trying to make enough quick capital to buy the house, hoping that later in our marriage when the children arrived you might want to go
back to the place.'

  'You would have done that for me?' she said softly, shaking her head in disbelief at the depth of his generosity.

  'I did.'

  'What?'

  Justin stared for a moment at her puzzled blue eyes, then laughed wryly, drawling, 'You never read the papers you signed that day at Malibu, did you? The same as you never touched the money I paid to your New York lawyer every month.'

  'No,' she admitted.

  His mouth curved. 'Don't ever change, darling.' He kissed her and said gruffly, 'I bought Black Gables and I've been waiting years for you to return. I had arranged for the month to be kept free so that I could come and look for you.'

  Her heart stopped; she stared at him, her lips parted in an amazed O. 'You did that for. . .?’

  'Yes,' he affirmed, with a long, lingering kiss, and once again only the muffled sighs and sounds of love enhanced the late night air.

  Zoe was sitting strapped into a seat on Concorde, flying the Atlantic to England, almost a year to the day since she had last made the trip. To her disgust she was slightly plumper than last time, but the tiny bundle of white- haired, blue-eyed joy in her arms more than made up for it.

  She glanced sideways, as did the man sitting beside her—her husband. He caught her glance and smiled, his dark eyes shining with love and contentment.

  'Are you and Mary OK?'

  'Of course.' She looked down into her daughter's chubby face, a secret smile dancing in her beautiful eyes.

  Their daughter had been born on Christmas Day, and she had been all for calling her Holly. But Justin had flatly refused and insisted that the child have an ordinary name, so they had agreed on Mary. But only because Zoe had heard him, when he thought no one was around, telling 'Maria' in Spanish how much he loved her, and she knew from Jess that it had been their mother's name.

  She leant back against the seat, a deep sigh of contentment escaping her.

  'Tired, darling?' Justin asked in concern.

  'No, simply happy,' she murmured, and he bent and brushed his lips across hers.

  'Me too,' he said huskily.

  She glanced past him to where her son sat straining at the belt around his waist in his excitement. The last year had been hard but the love they all shared had made life feel good.

  The transplant had been a success; they were on their way to London with Professor Barnet's blessing. Val would still have to attend hospital every few months for a check-up, but, barring accidents, there was no longer any medical reason why he should not live a long and happy life.

  Zoe smiled to herself. Always providing his father did not kill him first, she thought, as Justin answered Val's never-ending questions.

  'How fast is it going, Dad? Do you know how much it weighs? How old is it? Will I see the Tower of London soon? You said I would. . .'

  An hour later she sat in the back seat of the long, sleek Jaguar with Val beside her as Justin manoeuvred the car into the drive of Black Gables and pulled up at the entrance.

  'Oh, boy!' Val exclaimed; he was out of the car before his father had properly opened the door. 'Is this the Tower of London, Dad?' he demanded, running around the car to stare up at the massive house.

  Justin took the baby from Zoe's arms and held the small child steadily against his heart with one large hand, while with the other he helped her out of the car.

  'Is it, Dad?'

  The two adults smiled into each other's eyes. 'Welcome home, Zoe, darling,' Justin murmured, dropping a swift kiss on her softly parted lips.

  'Dad, Dad, where is the rest of the city? Are you sure this is the Tower of London?'

  Justin, with admirable restraint considering he had a baby in one arm and a four-year-old boy hanging on to the leg of his trousers, said feelingly, 'No, it is not, son; this is our home for the next few months. But if you're not very careful you could just find yourself spending Easter in the Bloody Tower.'

  'Justin, really—you shouldn't swear in front of the children,' Zoe remonstrated.

  'I am not swearing,' he averred, and, catching the amusement sparkling in her sapphire eyes, he added astutely, "That is the popular name bestowed upon the place centuries ago by the unfortunate inmates who lost their heads.'

  'Always the lawyer with the quick rebuttal,' Zoe mocked. Their eyes met and clung and together they laughed out loud. . .

  Still laughing, they entered the old house that was full of memories, with the hope of generations more to be made. . .