by Trisha David
Maybe it had been a total mistake to marry. Because how could she stand here, and feel his hand holding hers, and not want him? Not ache for him?
. She'd never known she could feel like this. Never! Something was happening to her and she didn't know what. Her legs were feeling odd. Her thighs...
There was heat starting in her body, radiating from her thighs and finding another centre right behind her eyes, but, despite the heat, she was trembling. And William's hold on her hand tightened.
'Jenni...' His voice was hoarse with passion. 'Jenni...'
It scared her to death. What was happening here? she thought. They were arranged in this seduction scene—dear heaven, she'd set it up herself!—and if it went its course...
All she wanted was for it to go its course.
But then... What then? Tomorrow...
Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow, her heart whispered. Let me take them as they come. A year of tomorrows...
But then? After a year, what then?
Nothing.
So take what's on offer for now, her heart whispered. This man is your legal husband. Surely it can't be immoral to move a little closer. To let your body be pulled in to his...
To him. To William.
But then...
She closed her eyes and tried to speak, and her words came out a ragged whisper.
'William, we need to go home. This is...this is a business arrangement. Remember?'
And William shook his head, like a big wet dog, spraying water over them both. And suddenly he released her hand and changed position, moving to hold her with both his hands around the waist. Lightly. He pulled her forward and kissed her gently on the top of her head. And his words, when he spoke, could have been seen as lightly humorous. Light.
'This is the weirdest business arrangement I ever made,' he said. 'But you're right. We'll keep it formal. Despite the dress code.'
Light.
But Jenni heard what was behind the words. There was no lightness there, there was jagged, naked want. This was as hard for him as it was for her, she thought. Impossible. One day down, she thought desperately. One day down and a year to go.
So, without love, how long could a business arrangement last?
'Let's go, then,' he said, and released her abruptly to stride up the beach towards his clothes, and Jenni knew exactly what it had cost him to do that. Because it had cost her the same.
Their business resolution lasted a whole fifteen more minutes.
That was how long it took for them to gather their clothes—for William to haul his trousers on to give him a semblance of decency-—and to make their way up the beach to Kookaburra. Jenni kept on her knickers and bra. She really was respectable enough, she told herself, and she wasn't risking damage to Sally's lovely dress by putting it on again over her damp and salty body.
So they walked side by side up the track to the cottage, semi-clad and silent.
There were simply no words for what was between them.
There was nothing. The smallest crack and she'd break completely, Jenni thought. She was so aware of this man! Every nerve was aware of his body. Every sense was attuned to the sight of him. The smell of him.
William...
They were supposed to be staying in Kookaburra. Beth was staying with the Hayneses, and the arrangement was that Jenni could share the twin room in Kookaburra with Rachel and William could use the master bedroom.
So much for plans.
They reached Kookaburra and there was a huge note pinned to the door. Jenni read it by the light of the porch lamp. It took time to focus. She was so aware of William...
'Sorry, guys. Kookaburra is full. Mike and Ruby Lett are in the master bedroom here, fast asleep, so don't disturb them. Beth and Sam decided they didn't want to stay with the Hayneses, so they and Rachel are in the twin room. There's no room left. We've decided it's your wedding night so you're sleeping in Kingfisher.
Kingfisher...
Jenni stared. Kingfisher!
'So which one is Kingfisher?' William asked mildly, seeing nothing wrong.
'We're not sleeping in Kingfisher,' Jenni said. 'Mike and Ruby Lett are supposed to be sleeping in Kingfisher.'
'The note says they're sleeping here.'
'But they're supposed to be sleeping in Kingfisher.' Jenni's voice was practically a wail and William put a finger on her lips to motion her to hush.
'So they've given us a cottage of our own. Very thoughtful. We can hardly refuse, Jenni. How can we wake them now and tell them to go back to their cottage so we can share with the girls? Kick Beth out to sleep with the Hayneses again so we can have separate bedrooms? So much for pretending we have a real marriage.'
'But Kingfisher...'
'So what's wrong with Kingfisher?'
'It's the honeymoon cottage,' Jenni wailed. 'William...'
'So, okay...' He grinned '...it's only a name. Hey, Jenni, I can still sleep on the couch. Come on, before we wake up the whole camp. Which way?'
Jenni signalled to the last of the cottages, tucked away from the rest. 'But...'
'But nothing. Come on.'
And he took her hand and led her down the path. Brooking no opposition. The door to Kingfisher was unlocked. William pushed it open and tugged his bride inside.
And stopped dead.
Kingfisher.
Kingfisher had been the last cabin Jenni had built. She'd built it after she'd had so many requests for a honeymoon suite that she'd felt she had to do something. It had been the last so she'd had the rent from the other cottages to indulge in more than second-hand furnishings and decor.
And they'd had fun with it. She and Rachel and Beth had giggled the whole time they'd built it.
It was a tiny, tiny cottage, and it was practically all bed. A timber-carving friend of Rachel's had carved the bed— the headboard adorned with hearts and doves—and they'd put two double mattresses side by side to fill it. Jenni had sewn black satin sheets and duvet covers. They'd put four satin-covered duvets on the bed so it looked like a vast mound of bedding, and there were cushions—scores of cushions, in every shade of the rainbow against the shining blackness of the bed.
There was a tiny table by the window overlooking the sea, and two cushioned chairs.
There was nothing else.
Just bed.
Oh, one thing more... There was a bucket on the table containing ice and a huge bottle of champagne. And a note. Jenni took a deep breath and walked over to read it. Ruby Lett had written:
'We honeymooned here four years ago and we've been back every year since. But tonight this bed is Mike's and my gift to you both. May it bring you as much pleasure as it's brought us.
And there was a postscript.
'P.S. The champagne's from Henry Clarins and the Betangera Rotary Club. Not that you two need it to get any happier!
William came up behind her, reading the note over her shoulder, and Jenni gasped as his chest touched her bare shoulder. She took off like a scalded cat to the other side of the bed, and spent three minutes carefully hanging her bridal gown and trying to ignore William. Trying to get her head back together. Or her heart...
'I guess I should hang up my dinner suit,' William said. 'But then, if I take my pants off I don't have anything on.' He looked sadly down at his bundle of clothing. 'I think I must have dropped my underwear on the track. How's that going to look to the early morning swimmers? Our reputation's shot.' And he grinned.
Jenni winced. She took a deep breath, and then turned and dived under one of the duvets. She hauled the satin covers up to her chin and tried to stop her knees trembling.
'You can't go to sleep in wet knickers,' William said.
'I'll take 'em off under the covers—on this side of the bed. You can do the same. On your side!'
'Yeah. Right.' William sat on the opposite side of the bed but made no move to take off his trousers. He lifted the champagne bottle. 'Drink?'
'N—no.'
'We should drink
to our marriage.' Hell, why was his voice unsteady? He was unsteady! He poured a glass and held it out.
'No, thank you. I'm going to sleep.' She closed her eyes.
William took a long swig from the glass and put it back down on the table. Then he sighed, hauled off his trousers and got under the covers himself.
He'd never slept on satin in his life. It felt strange. Slippery and cool and...
'I'm not actually sure I like it,' he said into the darkness.
'What?'
'Black satin.'
'I think it's awful,' Jenni confessed. 'But Beth was all for it. She says black satin is what every honeymooner wants.'
'She's wrong,' William said. 'What every honeymooner wants is a wife. Or a husband.'
'William...' Jenni's voice was close to breaking-point.
'Jenni, I'm going to have to take a cotton duvet and sleep on the beach.' William groaned and writhed his naked body against the satin. 'Hell, Jenni...'
'We have a year of this.' Jenni swallowed. 'We have to get used to it.'
'Staring at the ceiling night after night?'
'That's right.'
'On opposite sides of the bed!'
'Different bedrooms from tonight,' she reminded him.
'Yeah. Ruby and Mike will want their honeymoon cottage back tomorrow.'
'I guess.'
'So it's only tonight,' he said. 'Jenni...'
'William.'
He was lying rigid on the far side of the bed from her. His body had never felt so tense in his life before. There were beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
No means no. If she says no...
But he wanted her so badly he could taste it!
'Jenni, do you remember me telling you I had priorities?'
'Yes. I think so...' Her voice was breathless.
'The first was not to marry. The second was to stop Ronald getting the farm. The third was to keep you safe.'
'I remember.'
'There's a fourth. And it's just launched itself to the top of my list.'
'And it is...?' Jenni's voice was a whisper. She knew what was coming. She knew!
His voice was an echo. 'And it is... You know what it is, Jenni. But... I'll sleep on the beach if you like?'
Silence. It went on and on and on.
Jenni's head was spinning. One part of her was cold to the core—trembling. Fearful.
The other...
He wanted her. He wanted her and he was her husband.
Well... So what? The sky wouldn't fall on her head if she moved to the centre of the bed. She'd promised to love and honour this man, and he'd made the same promise.
For a year?
Till death do us part, the vow had been, and that was what she was feeling now. As if her life would be changed for ever if she moved to the centre of the bed. But...not to move...
'William...'
'Jenni.' His hand came out and caught hers. And they lay rigid, staring at the ceiling with only the warmth of their hands linking each other.
And then William turned onto his side so his other hand could touch her. He put a finger on her lips and then moved his hand slowly down. Down across the smoothness of her throat. Down to where her breasts curved into two delicious peaks. He touched each nipple in turn, teasing, tantalising until each stood erect and hard and Jenni's body was starting to scream a need. Scream!
And then his hand moved downwards. Down across the flatness of her belly, and into the warmth—the heat—which lay between her thighs. His other hand released hers and gathered her against him, and there was no resistance. If she had resisted he would have stopped. He would!
But there was no resistance at all.
'My wife,' he whispered. 'Jenni, you're my wife. For a year. We can resist this or we can run with it. We can have a year.'
'And...and then...?'
'Then life goes on,' he said unsteadily. 'But, Jenni... for a year...you're the sweetest thing. The most lovely... Jenni, right at this moment I want you more than life itself. That's all I can think of. At this moment... Now...'
And he pulled her gently into him so they were lying length to length. Skin meeting skin. And Jenni's toes were curling all by themselves.
This was crazy. Crazy! Dangerous, even.
What would happen at the end of the year? Could life simply take off where it had been left?
Jenni no longer cared. All she cared about was that William was holding her. She'd never known she could feel like this. She'd never imagined...
She wanted him. She wanted him and he was her husband. The moonlight was glinting in the window from the sea, and the night was theirs and they were man and wife.
And her arms came around and held him. In wifely possession.
'I could love you, William,' she whispered, and she let her lips drift up to touch his.
'Love me, then, Jenni,' he said softly, and his arms tightened around her lovely nakedness. 'Love me. Because I intend to love you. And I intend to love you right now.'
Dawn.
There was a kookaburra in the tree straight above the cottage. Its laugh was what woke Jenni and it had woken her husband before her.
She was curled tight into the crook of William's arms. He'd held her close even in sleep. They'd made love and made love again, and Jenni had fallen asleep so happy she'd felt her heart must surely burst.
She felt young and free and beautiful—and loved. She felt protected and cherished. She felt as she'd never felt in her life before, and she knew that if life ended right at this minute—if she woke to find William gone—then she could not regret this night.
This night had been a gift from heaven. A gift to her.
But she woke and her husband was still by her side, holding her close, and when he spoke the tenderness and the caring were still there.
'Damned bird. That's why I moved to New York. The bird life here is enough to make a man demented.'
New York... The word sent a chill across the warmth of the morning but there was laughter in William's voice and the arms around her were tightening.
'The birds act as my alarm clock,' she told him.
'To do what?'
'To get up and start work for the day.'
'What about to stay where you are and start work for the day?' He rolled over and up so that he was above her, looking down deep into her eyes. A man could drown in those green eyes. 'I've just thought of something that needs doing. Wife!'
'Wh-what?'
'Keeping your husband happy.'
'You mean...' her voice was a husky whisper. 'You mean you.'
'That's the one. Your husband. That's me, Jenni, and I'm so proud...'
And that was the last thing either of them said for a very long time.
When she woke again, William was gone.
Jenni opened her eyes to find sunlight flooding the little cottage. By the warmth and the power of the sun, it must be at least nine. She gasped and sat bolt upright.
Where was he? William's side of the bed was empty and barren.
He'd gone. He'd left her...
But there was a pile of clothing on his side of the bed. It was the dress they'd bought for her yesterday, and clean knickers and a bra. And a note.
'We're all over at Kookaburra. Come over when you're respectable, Mrs Brand. Love from Mr Brand.'
Jenni held the note and felt herself flush from the toes up. Mrs Brand.
'I guess I am Mrs Brand,' she whispered. 'Good grief!'
There was a party happening at Kookaburra. Half the occupants of the cottages were crammed into the kitchen or were spilling out onto the verandah. They greeted the flushed Jenni with warmth and laughter.
'Your husband's cooking breakfast, Mrs Brand,' they told her, and Mr Haynes gave her a wink.
'I'm glad the man let you sleep in. I went down for my early morning swim and what I found on the track... Well, I'm glad there was a legal wedding yesterday, and that's all I'm saying.'
And amidst more good-hu
moured laughter the guests on the verandah moved aside to let her into the kitchen.
William was indeed cooking. But so was Beth. There were pancakes being produced in industrial quantities.
'Okay, lift a spoonful of batter and let it run over your finger,' William was saying. 'Feel its texture. Remember it. That way you can just keep adding milk until you get it right. Okay, Beth, you cook this lot by yourself.'
And he turned from the bench to see his wife in the doorway. And his face creased into one of his wonderful smiles.
'Jenni.'
Goodness. If she hadn't known better she'd have said there was love in the word. There was certainly all the tenderness in the world.
Then everyone turned. There had to be twenty people in the kitchen, and at the centre of them all was Beth. She was flushed and happy, and she had the harnessed Sam at her feet. Beth put down the spatula she was holding and came towards the door, her hands reaching out to find her sister.
'Oh, Jenni...' Beth's voice was trembling with happiness. 'Can you believe it? I've cooked twenty pancakes. I burned four but the last twenty have been fine. I can time how long it takes for the pan to heat, and now I know how long it takes to flip them—and the last one I flipped without even using the spatula.' And she grabbed her sister and hugged.
Jenni closed her eyes. She had to—to try to stop the tears welling up. Useless attempt 'Oh, Beth...'
Oh, William...
'Everyone's eating Beth's pancakes,' Rachel said, her voice almost as proud as Beth's. 'And she's prepared the second percolator of coffee herself.'
'I just have to make sure I have clean hands,' Beth told her. 'Because I feel everything. But Jenni, I can cook. William can teach me. He's just the best.' She hugged Jenni hard. 'Oh, Jenni, I like your new husband.'
And Jenni's eyes opened, still sparkling with tears, and she looked over to where William was smiling at the pair of them.
Beth liked William.
It was no wonder. Jenni happened to like him herself.
It was the silliest, happiest day.
The cottage guests were all still in party mode and wanted to extend the celebration. They decided as one that they'd do their own cleaning, thank you very much, and Jenni was left with nothing to do but enjoy herself.