by Blu, Cora
Knock, knock, knock.
Hines came from around the curtain, seeing Gretchen on the bed he halted. “Is she ill? They said she was in here waiting.”
“We're waiting on me grandfather in therapy.” He pushed eyes darting over Hines features attempting to read his body language then gave up. “Do you have the results?” As he asked Sophie and Brian's lawyer, two security guards, Jamie and Fiona came through the door curtain filling the small room. He pushed up from the chair.
“Kenya's alone?”
“Calder's with her, says he dinna need a report to tell him, Ethan's his grandson. He and Kenya was talking when we left.”
“Well, doctor...the blood test...” Jonathan urged holding Sophie's hand at his side, Gretchen's on the other.
“According to the results and the eighty percent DNA match,” Hines peered at the faces around the room then Sophie gripping Jonathan's hand to her heart. “Brian has no hold on the estates as it goes back to Seamus. It's up to him to assign it to you Jonathan.”
Seamus asked eyes wide. “Jonathan's Calder's son, Mr. Hines?”
“Calder Blakemore is Jonathan Blakemore's natural biological father,” Hine's told the room.”
“Jonathan and I are half-brothers...?” Jamie asked his arm around Jonathan's shoulder.
Hines nodded. “Brian Blakemore has an heir, but forfeited his claim to the estate by marrying another woman before his contract was up with Sophie,” Hines added reading the little device in his hand.
Anticipation thrilled through his system. “So...what happens now? Am I free?”
Hines took a breath then blew it out on his next words, “According to the judge's ruling, if the test comes back positive, you, Jonathan Blakemore, are a free man.” Hines smiled.
“Me daughter-in-law never stopped working to clear me son’s name.”
Everyone turned at the voice in the doorway. Jonathan’s chest tightened and he slowly put one foot in front of the other as he moved past the faces in the room. Every step freeing him from the vile clutches of Brian’s hold over him. Every moment of shame he faced having such a greedy man as a father, rolled off his back. Every minute his wife sat being blackmailed by that dog passed through his body like a poison seeping from his skin the closer his feet brought him to his silent wish.
“Ye heart was always too good to be that bastards son,” Calder said, grabbing Jonathan crushing him to his chest. The men stood wrapped in each other’s embrace. Jonathan gripped Calder around the nape of his neck holding his father never wanting to let go. All his life this man has always been there for him. Without his influence, he would have been the same as Brian, coming to Ireland every year. If not for this man staying with him when Brian taught him to shoot, ride, and deal with people, Jonathan would have been as cruel as Brian. Minutes passed before either loosened the grip on the other.
Calder pushed back and both men held tears in their eyes. “Me heart new you were me boy,” and waved Jamie over pulling him into a fierce hug. All three men stood slapping the other on the back and shoulders murmuring how each knew Jonathan and Jamie were brothers.
Fiona stepped close. “I knew you were too pushy to just be me cousin.” Jonathan kissed her face holding her to his side.
Jonathan gripped Calder on either side of his face, just staring at him. “You always told me, karma expects more from a wealthy man, but she pays back in ways I could never imagine. That never left me. When I met Kenya I knew you were right.”
Calder gave him a wide bright smile. “Let’s go see me grandson. He looks like me ye know.”
The faded curtain flapped over the glass door, the only sign that Jonathan, Jamie, Fiona and Calder had even been in the room. That and the smiles on the faces of the family knowing he wasn’t Brian’s son.
Chapter Twenty
The warm glow of early spring lit the library in the castle, full of family and a few friends. A sense of contentment swamped through Kenya seeing her family scattered around the room, crumpled gift-wrapping covering the upholstered chairs, and rumpled ribbons overflowing wastebaskets along the wall. Ethan had received gifts from all around the world. Food covered every flat surface. Trays and trays of delicious food their aromas filled the room. With everyone here, she saw no reason to have another baby shower in a few weeks, people were showing up as if an invitation had already gone out.
Karla came over to Kenya with an arm under young Carl's and he looked so helpless.
“Kenya smell this boy and tell me he don't smell like that candle in the store?”
“Auntie, let Carl go.”
“Smell his chest...he's too young for me, but smell his shirt right here. He won't bite just put your nose right here.”
“Carl always smells nice, Karla. I believe you. I'm sorry, Carl.”
Carl smiled, his soft blond hair cut tight to his head. “Och, I've never been felt up at a baby shower. Aye, never been to a baby shower.”
Karla waved a hand then looped her arm through Carl’s arm and strutted toward the library doors. “Oh forget her. Come in the pub and play darts with me, Carl. I hear you're the best around.”
“Be gentle with him, Karla. He's my cousin.”
Jonathan handed her Ethan and Kenya couldn't stop laughing watching Karla hugging Carl to her as they walked off. She got Ethan beneath her nursing blanket and turned as her mother said something to her. The sound of her breast popping from Ethan's mouth brought her eyes open to peer at their son, his little face peeking out from under the soft blanket. Dark eyes with the faintest of red brows squeezed together, stared up at her in a not so loving manner while a trail of milk trickled down his fat chin.
“Aye, that's my son alright. Never separate a man from his breast,” Jonathan teased. Kenya laughed probably the first time since Jonathan was taken away. She had her man back. She cringed as Ethan found her breast scratching his nails into her flesh a soft prickle, holding her to his mouth. The pain held a pleasure she had no words for, and in the back of her mind she understood her father's reasoning. He did what he felt was best.
After a good burp from Ethan, Jonathan paced the room with their son cradled snug against his chest, not allowing anyone to touch his son. Straightening her clothes, Kenya relished in the view of her husband and son. Jonathan had missed her entire pregnancy and he was absorbing every moment with his son. Kenya could hear the Gaelic from the other side of the large room. Speaking close to his face the sight warmed Kenya down to her toes resting on the settee beside the fireplace. Today the library was full of family coming to see the first Blakemore great-grandchild. Taking in all the faces in the room, Kenya couldn't get over having Morgan in her world. With Brian in prison for the rest of his life practically, Jonathan could enjoy being a Blakemore again.
“Morgan,” Steve greeted apologetically, crossing the room setting down two cups of coffee on the coffee table in front of Morgan and Rick. She watched him turn his attention to Morgan. “I know we have a ways to go, but you have to let some of that hate in your heart go. You keep telling me you're okay, but you did some serious acting out because of me. Let me know how you feel.”
Morgan held Rick's hand their fingers threaded. Kenya smiled when she made eye contact and gave her a curt nod. Morgan said lips tight, “Every night you read to me and told me nothing could take you from your little girl...every night, Daddy”
“I know, Morgan,” he rubbed a finger across the bridge of his nose shaking his head. “Your mother was an amazing woman and losing her wasn't something I was prepared for. The blood clot in her leg dislodged itself moving up to her heart.” Kenya watched the memories slow his words. “Your mother went into labor and they couldn't save her.”
“I felt broken when you left us.” Steve got up and took Julian from Katherine swaying slowly making his way back to Morgan.
“A broken woman doesn't bring this kind of miracle into the world.”
Facing Morgan, Rick said, “Steve is here--now. Decide if you want him in our li
ves’ so you can move forward. If you say no, he'll understand.” He tipped a serious gaze up to the other man. “I'll see that he does.” Morgan sighed deep in her chest. “If you accept his apology we go from there as a family.”
Morgan held a hand out and Steve knelt before her and Rick. Kenya watched the love resurfacing for father and daughter and understood why Morgan couldn't see Brian for the creap he was until he'd hurt her. She'd missed Steve so much she just wanted her father back and Brian, in a twisted way filled that for her in a way Marcus couldn't.
People milled in and out of the library, and their time apart grew shorter with each smile she witnessed crossing her husband’s face staring at Ethan.
“Look at the way our son follows your voice when you speak, honey,” Kenya preened. Jonathan raised his son's little balled fist to his lips kissing his knuckles.
“I noticed that too. He's very alert,” he admitted touching Ethan's round face. They held the same features. Same eyebrows, straight and too close together. Ethan carried his father’s sinister guarded stare, reading your every move. On Jonathan, the stare could remove her clothes without her moving. It was sexy and scary and gotten her pregnant she was certain. On Ethan, the new love of her life, it was disturbingly adorable and she could feel money leaving her pocket in clumps at Toys-R-Us. Jonathan’s hand caressing her face had her bringing her face up leveling her eyes even with his. She watched him look at their son then down to her face.
“Ethan,” Jonathan said, tilting Ethan to see Kenya. “You have the bravest mother around.” He stroked his other hand over her cheek. “Get to know this particular face, son. Protect this woman with everything you are and have, because she turned her world inside out to include us in it and I'm proud to know her.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Shh,” Jonathan motioned a finger pressed to his lips. “He's asleep, finally.” Easing the door closed to the nursery, he listened for the light snick, trying to avoid waking his son. A sweet scent arrested his attention. He sucked in a breath. His wife emerged from the bathroom, squeezing a towel over her thick dark hair, her face flush from the heat of her bath. Releasing the breath, he extended a hand collecting Kenya as she willingly moved into his embrace. He took another calming breath. His body tensed inside with the thought of taking his wife to bed. Jonathan hadn't cared that he had to wear a condom until after she stopped nursing. He wouldn't chance getting Kenya pregnant so soon after what he saw her go through in the labor room.
It's been close to a year, since they were married and shared their last night together. Now he felt like a wimp shaking like a teenager caught with an erection staring at his hot teacher.
Kenya stared up at him and her big brown eyes were wide and eager. To his shame, Jonathan felt the first slip of precum warm over the head of his erection trapped behind his zipper. Then a thicker flow erupted and he jerked back closing his eyes trying to suppress what was happening. Shit! You did not just prematurely come staring at your wife!
Kenya tilted her face lowering her eyes to the floor, and he knew she'd assumed wrong. Assumed he'd pulled away from her body because of the baby. She'd voiced her concern numerous times over the past six weeks and he never saw any flaws with her body. If anything, those thick hips bumping him at night drove him to the sofa two three times a week. Afraid he'd crawl on top of her in his sleep. Must be a woman thing.
“Give me your hand, Kenya.” He pressed her palm to his wet crotch and watched his wife glow under the affirmation that she was sexy as hell to him. “Feel that. Looking into your face made me come. Do you still doubt I find you attractive?”
“I just don't feel attractive right now.”
He lowered his mouth until it closed over hers in a warm gentle kiss. Cupping a hand beneath her round hips, he lifted her off the floor bringing his arms around her one at a time to hold her to his chest. Kenya's smile opened his face and his heart. He had a healthy son and a supple, beautiful wife, with a voluptuous body even curvier from giving birth to his child.
“I never wanna be without you, Kenya,” he confessed kissing a trail up the gentle slope of her nose to her smooth forehead. The peachy scent of her hair filled his senses. “Every time I look at you I see my future, and not just the next day or event, the way I saw life before you switched your blue panties into my world. And now I have a wife and a son.” He set her behind on the dresser watched her clutch the towel to her swollen breast. His son wasn't getting those tonight. “No talk of anyone but us tonight?”
“Thank you for keeping your promise to come home early so I could indulge in a hot bath. I've never craved bubbles and hot water with such a manic longing. I finally feel clean.”
He laughed. “You're always clean, Mo Ru'n and sweet.”
Kenya flexed her fingers in her lap nervously.
“I don't feel sexy, Jonathan, but you make me feel loved. That's sexier than anything you could do. It makes me horny for my husband.” Kenya tucked the towel tighter between her large breasts. “Mmm...you always know what to say,” she preened drawing the shirt from his pants until the wrinkled linen hung slack outside of his trousers. Jonathan tilted his head watching his wife, her slender fingers unbuttoning his shirt, pushing the small black buttons through the holes dragging the panels of his shirt off his shoulders. He'd rolled his sleeves back when he laid Ethan down for his nap and now the shirt floated to the floor behind him. He stood in his tank and she made short work of pushing it up over his head. Dropping the cotton to the floor Kenya drug her nails through the hairs on his chest before she eased her cheek over his torso her heavy breast pushing up to swell out of the towel. “This is what I missed since we got here in Ireland. Your lingering scent after you'd come by my apartment. Warm and masculine. I've missed this, missed you. And we'd never had a proper night since we got married.”
He dipped his head, heart beat racing as his nostrils filled with the sweet fruity scent of his wife. Brushing away the thick curl dangling over her left brow, Jonathan kissed it trailing down bringing his mouth to the curve of her jaw to kiss along her neck. Kenya's warm moist skin dimpled behind him dragging his teeth along her shoulder down the supple curve along the length of her arm. Lifting away following the soft moans escaping her lips he brought their foreheads together.
“Is it too soon? I mean...” Jonathan covered Kenya's back through the towel molding his moist sweaty palm to the new fuller shape of his wife. “Aye, I want you. Are you ready for me, Kenya?” They hadn't made love in so long, the anticipation coursed through him leaving his palms moist and shaky. Their son was officially six weeks old and here he stood trembling in anticipation with this amazing woman in his arms.
“I won't break honey,” Kenya assured him her hips doing a slow gyrate against his length growing under each stroke. “It's been almost a year since we've made love, foreplay is unnecessary.” Jonathan palmed her breast after Kenya lifted his hand to her tender flesh, “I'm swollen and slick and so need this inside me,” Kenya confessed unashamedly. He rubbed up and down her arms watching her unzipping his pants sliding her hand into his briefs, closing her fingers around his sex flexing, stroking the full length. Jonathan had to tell himself to take it slow no matter how much she wanted him. She'd given birth to their son; her body needed patience not his usual aggressive attack the moment her clothes hit the floor. “Oh, I've missed this.” Kenya bit his nipples making him jerk in the grip of her fist and he caught his hips pumping into her hand.
Shoving a hand into his pants, he had to stop Kenya's gripping him through his briefs fondling the wet head of his length. “Mo Ru'n if I blink too fast, that towel won't be enough to absorb what I have waiting for you. Let me at least be between your legs before I embarrass myself again coming prematurely.”
Kenya pressed her fingers to his lips shaking her head working the trousers down his legs with her other hand. He sprang from beneath his briefs when she skimmed the material down his thighs. She held it in her hand lowering her face she kissed the sk
in on his stomach.
Jonathan wanted to see her body, she’d kept covered since they'd come home from the hospital. Scooping her beneath her knees, he lifted her then crossed the room to the bed. The mattress dipped and he crawled to the center of the bed. Back on his heels, Jonathan closed a hand over the edge of the towel tucked between her breasts.
“Let me see you...all of you,” he urged barely hanging on to his restraint. The anticipation of touching her body ate at him. The bite of her nails dragging along his spine making him arc into her body where her muscles would grip him with the strength of a fist, taunted his mind. He wanted his woman. Want didn't cover the need pumping through his veins for his wife. He breathed through his nose. Get a grip. “Take your time.”
“I'm still carrying ten extra pounds and my stomach is soft, Jonathan,” Kenya complained holding the towel tight under her fingers. Her wet curly hair framed the insecurity staring out at him from her eyes darting around the room.
She needed reassurance he noticed and he would have no problem giving it to her. Down on the bed he crawled up between her shapely legs resting his chin on her left thigh as he slowly eased the cotton from her grip. The towel revealed perfection behind every inch of her skin it slipped over, giving him a renewed lust for his wife. “I know every mole and childhood scratch on your shin. This scratch on your knee,” licking his tongue over the hint of a scar he kissed the darker skin of her knee. “You got this when you thought the blood you found on the ground in the field was mine, the day Seamus was shot,” he admitted, easing the thick towel the rest of the way freeing his wife's supple breast. He caressed the sides looking up at her over the gentle swell of her belly. Tipping his chin, he kissed the one stretch mark below her navel, laving it evoking a moan from over his head. Stroking his thumb over the thin skin, he admitted proudly, “I'm the man that put the baby in your body that gave you this stretch mark.” Kenya eased up on her elbow and he leaned into her hand stroking down the curve of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her lips tugging at the tip of his ear caused his erection to thump along the bed behind each nip of her teeth grazing the tender skin. He said, “You're amazing, sexy, hell, babe, you're so fucking sexy.” His words came out harsher than he planned, but she had no idea how anxious he'd been all day thinking of this moment, when he could lie in her arms again. He brushed the backs of his knuckles across the soft skin of her belly. “My son is strong and healthy and happy all because this body shielded him from the outside world.”