LOVE STORM

by Beryl Trebble

  "I deserve at least a goodnight kiss on my wedding night." He turned his back on her before she could see the blatant evidence of his arousal, but not before he'd seen the horrible pain in her eyes. What could he do to prevent himself from falling on her like a wild beast? Only one answer came to mind, and he didn't like it.

  Kris did nothing to hide her nakedness and flounced into bed with her back to him, hiding her flustered surprise. She scooted under the sheet and waited to see what he would do next. A part of her hoped he would come to her and declare his eternal love, but she knew that was a Raoul she had yet to meet.

  Tired as she was, Kris was too aroused and tense to sleep. She heard him moving around the room and felt him pull something from the bottom of the bed. There was a soft pop as he pulled the champagne cork then filled only one glass. Kris looked over and saw his silhouette, the springs creaking loudly as he settled into the easy chair, covering his legs with the duvet he'd pulled out from beneath the bed.

  She smiled sadly when she realised that he was, in fact, going to spend the night in the hard, uncomfortable easy chair. Her mental exhaustion won over her desire to watch him sip his champagne, and within minutes she was asleep.

  ...x...

  Neither said anything else about that night and from the next day on they plunged into a punishing travel schedule. They had flights throughout the day and night. Entertaining and being entertained the entire time by a seemingly endless procession of smiling people who congratulated them on their marriage. She guessed that behind the scenes they gossiped and speculated on how it had all happened, and were probably taking bets on how long it would last.

  At the end of the day, they exhaustedly flopped into bed. Their relationship had eased some, due in part to the hectic programme he had set, and to the fact that they booked into hotel suites. Since they reserved two bedrooms at the end of each hard day, there was no sexual tension, and they were able to retire separately.

  One morning after a stiff and trying dinner party the night before, Kris felt her head throbbing and a nauseous feeling rose in her stomach, but she dismissed it as something she had eaten. Within a short time, it had passed and she ate sparingly that day to give her stomach a rest from the rather rich fare they had been dining on. However, the next day it came back, then the day after, and the day after that. When it happened the fourth day, she grew paralysed with fear as she realised why she might be nauseous. Alarmed, she remembered that in the rush of her crazy life, she had not noticed the disruption of her body's rhythm.

  Alone for the morning, she made an appointment to see the hotel doctor and received the news she had hoped not to hear. This time she really was pregnant!

  My God! Now what? She counted back to the day at the cottage, the last time he had slept with her, and the dates tied up perfectly. No, this could not be happening, but like it or not, it was not a false alarm. Sooner or later she would have to tell Raoul.

  It just so happened that night they had nothing to keep them out late, and after a light supper he jumped at her suggestion that they have coffee and a nightcap in the suite. She declined the brandy he offered saying she was too tired to enjoy it and clutching her coffee cup. Standing slowly, she paced restlessly to the window.

  "For heaven's sake, girl, what is the matter? You have been preoccupied all evening, and the nightcap suggestion obviously means you want to talk? Spell it out, I'm all ears."

  She turned and moved away from the serenity beyond the window. Quietly, she stated simply, "I'm pregnant."

  Hell immediately exploded. Raoul jumped to his feet, accusing her of having an affair with "that bastard at the cottage". His rage was awful, but nothing compared to her own. How dare he say one word against Carl, a man he knew nothing about. Kris watched his tirade as he walked a path back and forth across the room. He wouldn't give her a chance to speak and she was getting sick of him not taking a moment to even listen to her side.

  "Raoul, if you'd stop long enough to let me explain...."

  "What? And dig yourself in deeper? Are you going to try and talk yourself out of the corner you've backed yourself into? I don't want to discuss this any longer."

  "Well, you're bloody well going to discuss it with me, Raoul! Better still, just stand there and shut up, I'll do the talking."

  Although he leaned his back against the wall and kept silent, the fire in his eyes said he might not believe her, even if he was listening. He cocked a brow arrogantly, waiting for her to begin her excuses.

  "You aren't aware of the entire situation, Raoul. You know only what you've seen and overheard. Carl is a decent and kind man and I care for him more than I can say." Kris turned away from him, missing the way he left his place by the wall to come and stand by an end table. "Carl has left and I don't know when I'll see him again. I love him dearly as only a sis--"

  Her last words were lost as Raoul slammed his glass down on the end table and watched as Kris jumped at the harsh sound of glass against hard wood. She found his gaze without guilt of any kind and he marveled at her audacity to admit her affair. He stared into her calm but worried eyes for a long second, his face a mask of anger. "I've heard quite enough, madam. Your confession is more than I needed to hear, however. I'll make arrangements tonight for us to fly out tomorrow. Obviously, we need to cut things short because of this...situation. We'll pick up PJ and go through the reception -- or should I say deception charade -- as soon as possible. I don't want any sordid suggestions made about us. It's imperative that we get back home and settle down...for PJ's sake as well. Or have you forgotten about her?"

  In his anger, he'd said the cruelest thing possible. PJ meant everything to her. Kris loved that child as if she were her own. Raoul could be heartless bastard at times.

  "This whole time you used PJ as a front for your entering into such a liaison. You must be gloating because I walked right into your little trap. You really are something, you know that? Get out of my sight and leave me alone. Go on to bed. You're tired, remember?" he mocked, pointing towards her bedroom. "Better still, I'll go. The room has become suddenly too chilly to tolerate." He slammed his door behind him.

  Kris felt as if she'd been slapped when his door slammed. The man was a fool, but knowing that didn't make her feel any better. She shook her head sadly, knowing she'd at least tried to tell him, make him understand. If he wouldn't listen to her about anything, they really had no hope of making their marriage last.

  Dragging her feet, she felt exhaustion weigh heavily on her shoulders. In less than ten minutes she was ready for bed. Once her head hit her feather pillow, she was fast asleep.

  By the morning, she felt truly like death. Raoul had dressed and left by the time she woke up. He'd left a basic note of instruction about their departure. It told her bluntly to pack their things and get to the airport by herself as he was trying to salvage something of his business day. He would meet her there.

  The note blurred before her eyes and Kris realised numbly that her tears were dropping onto it, spreading the ink.

  ...x...

  There were clients of his on the plane, and Raoul made no move to speak to her, or even acknowledge her presence. She hardly noticed anything. Every moment was a struggle to keep the wretched feeling of nausea, anxiety, and tears at bay while trying to appear composed.

  Preparing to land, the stewardess came over with a message. Kris had lost track of time and distance since they were on a chartered craft. "Mr. Metier says to stay on the aircraft because we are to take you to pick up his daughter. He's arranged for her to be at the airport, then we will come straight back. He says there will be a car waiting for you on our return that will take you to his office." Dying to know why Raoul hadn't told her that himself, she kept her face expressionless and her manner diplomatic.

  Kris looked across at the man she had married, the father of her unborn child, despite what he thought. Engrossed in conversation, he caught her looking at him. His eyes were cold and hard as they met hers, and then he flic
ked back to his business associates and said something in a low voice that caused a great deal of laughter as they all prepared to buckle up for landing.

  Feeling lonely, Kris stayed in her seat and tried hard to smile brightly as the stewardess bade her goodbye. At least this was a private plane, and there were no prying eyes from other passengers.

  ...x...

  Her misery left her somewhat as she saw PJ waiting for her. She felt loved and wanted as the small body hurtled into her arms.

  The return flight passed quickly as the little girl chatted non-stop. She was unaware of the reason for her sudden departure, and Kris wisely kept silent, having decided that Raoul would have to tell his daughter what was going on.

  As they crossed the tarmac, she had a jolt of apprehension when she saw the car. Kris' stomach knotted as drew nearer. The door opened and Raoul stepped out.

  With a delighted, "Daddy, Daddy!" PJ rushed at him. He laughed, lifted her up and swung her around. Kris felt that she would never reconcile with the stern man who wore the happy smile for his daughter.

  His eyes met hers over the top of PJ's tousled head. Surprisingly, they were concerned. "You must be tired." It was a statement, not a question. "We are going straight to the house, not the apartment."

  Kris expected some explanations about what was going on, but as nothing was forthcoming, prudently kept silent.

  He turned back to PJ. "I have missed you, kitten. Have you had a nice time with Luke? Hope he didn't spoil you rotten. Tell me what you've been doing."

  The journey was comfortable because PJ held sway, and the two adults didn't have to speak to each other directly.

  Arriving at the house, Raoul stopped PJ from getting out of the car. He held her small chin and looked directly into her eyes. Giving nothing away by the tone of his voice, he said, "PJ, Kris is not well, so you and I will have to make supper."

  Big innocent eyes turned her way. "What is wrong with you, Kris?"

  Why are kids so direct? Kris coloured, unsure how to tell PJ the news. "I--"

  Raoul exited the vehicle and PJ followed. Kris was surprised when Raoul offered her a hand to assist her from the car.

  Raoul came to the rescue, playfully patting PJ on the bottom. "Run, run, you talk too much." He turned abruptly and followed the child into the house. Kris had no choice but to do the same.

  "You look dreadful." The words didn't do anything to make her feel any better. "I suggest you go take a bath and get into bed. We will bring you something to eat soon." Softening slightly, he carried on, "I'm a dab hand at scrambled eggs."

  She felt somewhat relieved to slip into a scented bath, away from Raoul's disruptive presence. For some reason she resolved herself to get Raoul's full attention as soon as possible. She had to talk to him, she had to make him listen to her. He was thinking the unthinkable, and yet, she had brought that upon herself by not thinking of another way to tell him. She could've easily explained Carl in a note, if he opened it.

  Wrapping herself in a warm gown, she moved to the dressing table and was startled to see an unfamiliar pale face with dark rings under her eyes staring back at her. As she brushed her hair, she heard a knock at the door. PJ and Raoul stood there with her supper on a tray.

  The little girl was so excited about seeing Kris, she could hardly contain herself. "Are you better now? Can I talk to you while you eat? I've got so much to tell you."

  Kris smiled and looked over to Raoul. His bland, unsmiling face wiped away what joy she'd found in PJ's presence.

  "Leave the tray outside the door when you've finished. I'll pack this monster off to bed," Raoul teased his daughter, tousling her hair. Although he spoke to PJ, he kept him gaze trained on Kris. "No, you can't talk to Kris right now, there will be plenty of time in the morning. Say goodnight, and go jump into the bath. If you are good, I'll sit with you and watch TV for a while. Go on."

  He waited by her side as PJ kissed Kris goodnight and ran off. He took another step closer until he was standing beside Kris' chair. "I'm leaving in the morning, but I'll speak to you before I go. There are things that have to be done pretty quickly, as you no doubt realise."

  As he turned away, she caught his arm. "Raoul, I have to talk to you about Carl. It's important. You don't know everything...."

  He shrugged her off. "Nor do I wish to. I told you before, don't make it worse. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing more to say. Goodnight."

  He turned and without looking back, closed the door soundly.

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  The next few days passed quickly. The butterfly feeling in her stomach, giving her a sense of doom, persisted, though her nausea was not too bad. Raoul had spoken to her the next day, refusing point blank to let her speak. After outlining his plans, he left immediately.

  His plans included a reception to announce that they had been married secretly to avoid undue press coverage, and an oversized wedding. Close friends and long-standing business associates were to be invited, and Kris had been asked -- ordered, really -- to contact his secretary for the list. He'd ruled out the fact that she might like to ask anyone except Lauren, and she was in no position to argue. With easy confidence he'd predicted the women would say, 'How romantic,' and the men would make vulgar remarks about needing to get married quickly, then that would be the end of it. Kris cringed at the thought of what Isabella would say.

  He added his own suggestions about the occasion, throwing in that it would be for about one hundred guests. "Phone my secretary tomorrow and she will give you the list. It has to be a small affair, intimate friends and associates, or it becomes a huge business, and that I certainly don't need. Especially under the circumstances."

  Raoul's face changed, his mouth twisting into an ironic smile. "One other thing...as of today, you move your things to the room next to mine. It would be strange if the new Mrs. Metier slept in a room on another floor. As you know, there's a connecting door that forms it into one suite. So don't panic, we won't be sleeping in the same room."

  He continued on as if talking to one of his staff. "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me at the office. As to the catering and everything that entails, I have every confidence in your ability, so you go ahead and do whatever you feel is necessary. I really must go. Where is PJ so I can say goodbye?"

  As an afterthought, he said, "By the way...I was with her earlier this morning and I told her we're already married, but that we are having a reception. Luke will make a speech and join our hands with hers to make us family. She's quite satisfied with the explanations and is thrilled to bits that her two best people will be together always." He looked at her with a strange expression and said dully, "All I ask is that you never disappoint my child, and that your feelings for her are genuine, and not another put up job."

  Without waiting for the response he could see brewing in her eyes, he turned and left the room.

  Ruefully, she reflected on her life...after dealing with one disastrous marriage, she easily found herself in another. Her marriage had become worse because of a hot passionate night of lust that had resulted in a baby he refused to acknowledge as his own. Idly, she wondered what his real feelings were. Why had he reacted so strangely to Carl if she meant nothing to him? Why would it bother him if she had a man friend when he seemed securely tied to Isabella? And why, reacting so violently to the news of a baby, was he persisting in this charade of marriage?

  Strange as her relationship with Raoul had been, she had felt moments of intense physical and mental pleasure. That was probably why she allowed the peculiar alliance to happen, secretly hoping that with PJ as a catalyst, one day they would grow closer. The baby, however, was bad timing. And his refusal to let her speak made a difficult situation nearly impossible. Especially as it was so unfounded and unnecessary!

  She comforted herself that a moment would come when she could get him to listen to her, to convince him that, in fact, he was the legitimate fath
er, and that the man he was incensed with was her brother -- certainly not her lover! And she'd do it soon if she had to tie him to a chair and tape up his mouth!

  What a ridiculous situation, she thought. How would he react to the truth? Hardly with joy at his loss of face, or delight at an unplanned addition to the family with a woman he couldn't be civil to. She had seen a cold and hard side of him, but she'd also seen the warmth he'd shown his daughter and had glimpsed tenderness in him on occasion. Maybe -- just maybe -- with time and effort on her part, there may be a chance that their relationship could work out.

  ...x...

  Once Lauren knew about the plans, she became excited about the wedding dress.

  "Darling, you have to look stunning and definitely can't have anything off the shelf. I'll pull some strings and get you an appointment with Armand--"

  Kris interrupted her. "The Armand?"