Third Time Lucky (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rosemary J. Anderson

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was morning when Holly awoke. The sun was shining and she could hear the soft call of the birds through the partly open window. Looking to her left she noted an empty space where her husband was supposed to be. She smiled. Maybe he was in the shower, freshening up before making love to her again. Moving sensuously she stretched like a contented cat. Last night had been wonderful! Mason had been everything a new husband was supposed to be, kind, tender, warm, and sexy. Very sexy.

  The door opening had her sitting up against the pillows and quickly finger combing her hair. However, it wasn’t her husband that greeted her but Mrs. Henry carrying a tray of tea.

  “Morning, Mrs. Black. The lieutenant-colonel has gone to work and didn’t want to wake you, but he has left you a note.”

  Hastily pulling the duvet high up over her naked breasts she gave a small self-conscious smile. “Oh, morning, Mrs. Henry. Thank you.” Holly felt a surge of disappointment. She had forgotten Mason had to be back on duty today. Mrs. Henry placed a tray filled with coffee, juice, croissants, and even bacon and egg across her knees.

  “Have I overslept?”

  “It’s not late, Mrs. Black, just after ten, but then, it is your honeymoon. Well now, if you need anything you just holler. I’ll be in the kitchen. Take your time and have a nice rest.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Henry and please call me Holly. Mrs. Black is much too formal.”

  “Right you are, Mrs.—Holly. You can call me Ethel if you wish.”

  Barely noticing Ethel leaving the room after opening the curtains to a watery autumn sun, Holly gazed distractedly out of the window. After ten! Why hadn’t Mason woken her before he’d left? She knew he wasn’t in love with her, so probably didn’t think to wake her with a loving kiss, but they could have made love. Or, she thought worriedly, maybe he hadn’t bothered because she hadn’t been that good and he was disappointed! Gnawing at her lower lip with small, even white teeth she worried as to how she was going to keep Mason interested.

  * * * *

  By lunchtime Holly had looked around the house and was now wandering through the extensive grounds accompanied by Sumo. The French doors in the dining room opened onto a spectacular garden, the borders still bright and colourful due to the white, pink, and red cyclamen, the delightful winter pansies, and the tiny but colourful violas. The hedgerows hung heavy with berries and robins hopped from tree to tree. The whole scene was Christmas card pretty. Holly strolled through a wrought-iron garden gate into an open field and headed toward a wood dense with an array of different trees, conifers, oaks and Scots pines to name but few. Here wildlife was also in abundance, squirrels gathering winter nuts, wood mice venturing out to quickly collect nesting material before hastily returning to the safety of their underground burrows, and a rustling underfoot indicating to her, other less welcome rodents. Beyond the wood and in the far distance were more open fields dotted here and there with trees, their branches bare with the dawning of winter. The whole place, wild, wonderful, and flourishing was in Holly’s opinion just right for Mason’s wildlife sanctuary. Calling for the happily frisking Sumo, Holly returned to the house and headed for the cosy living room, shyly requesting her lunch on a tray in front of the fire. It had grown cold outside and the draw of the fire held instant appeal.

  * * * *

  It was late afternoon before Mason returned. Holly was still sitting sleepily in front of the fire, an open book lying forgotten on her lap and Sumo snuggled up to her for company. Looking up as the door opened and Mason entered, her eyes drank him in. She would never tire of looking at him. He was so gorgeous. She trembled with anticipation. Most definitely sex on legs. His uniform did something for him, turned his rugged handsomeness into an electrifying magnet that drew her involuntarily to him.

  He smiled and her heart missed a beat. “Hello, my wife.”

  Calm, stay calm she reminded herself. “Hello, my husband.” Her smile was soft and sensuous.

  “Let me just get out of this uniform, and then, how about we take Sumo for a walk?”

  Smiling, Holly nodded and even though she tingled at the thought of getting him out of his uniform he hadn’t invited her to go with him for an afternoon of lovemaking, so she had to be content with just a walk. Her feet still ached from the morning’s exploration, but, all thoughts of sex aside, she felt a walk would be just the thing for them to become close and really get to know each other. No one to interrupt, no phones, just the great outdoors, him, and her and a scampering dog. What could be better?

  * * * *

  They had been walking for about an hour, Holly’s hand tucked securely in Mason’s. It felt nice, she thought, made her feel safe and protected, and for some reason made her feel closer to him than when she was held in his arms. Yes, it felt nice. And they talked about everything and anything, about his work, his ambition for the future, their future, and about her hopes and dreams. Although in answer to his probing questions about how she really saw their future she was fairly vague. It wouldn’t do to scare him off by appearing too clingy and insecure. However, when the question of children came up she stuttered like a lovesick schoolgirl and blushed to the roots of her hair. In response Mason lifted her hand to his mouth and gently brushed her knuckles with his lips, his eyes glowing tenderly. And Holly’s heart sang with the joy of it all.

  * * * *

  Later that night held securely in his arms she felt content. Their lovemaking had been everything she could have hoped for. Mason had been gentle and tender and yet masterful and it had thrilled her. Her eyes grew soft as she remembered how he had taken her in his arms and kissed every inch of her sensitised skin. His hands had been caressing whilst his tongue…

  She drew a shuddering breath. His tongue had been acrobatic, spelling out the alphabet on her throbbing, swollen clit. She bit her lip as a tingling began at her feminine core. God, how she wanted him, again and again and again, and yet it had only been a short time since she had been screaming his name as he took her to the heights.

  Mason stirred and pulled her closer into his arms.

  “What’s up, love?” he mumbled sleepily.

  Love! He had called her love. Did that mean? Could it mean? But no, it was just a form of endearment—wasn’t it?

  “Nothing,” she whispered, snuggling closer.

  Moments later she was flat on her back and Mason was above her, his hot hard body pressing her yielding one to the mattress.

  “Sure about that?” One eyebrow lifted in enquiry.

  “Weeell.”

  He smiled into her eyes. “Well, whilst you’re deciding maybe I should just do this…” His teeth gently grazed her nipple. “And this…” He moved down her body and explored her navel with his warm tongue.

  Holly quivered as ripples of pleasure spread throughout her body to detonate in her womb, causing an exquisite pain to spear her clitoris.

  “Or this…” He nudged open her legs and gently, tenderly caressed her inner thigh with his mouth.

  Holly squealed and her hips bucked.

  Smiling against her sensitised flesh Mason caught her clit tenderly between his teeth and gently tugged. Holly couldn’t help it she squealed again, and when he suckled her clitoris she squealed and again and again and again. Moments later a climax caught her up in a whirlwind of sensation, and as Mason lapped at her essence she spiralled out of control, reaching dizzying heights, before plummeting at a rate of knots back to reality.

  Cuddled up against Mason, Holly felt satisfied and complete and her hand reached out to touch him and in doing so brushed across his engorged cock. Mason groaned and she suddenly sat up.

  “Oh God, Mason, I— You, I mean you still haven’t…” She bit her lip. “What I mean is…” She took a deep breath. “Let me.”

  Gently pulling back the covers, she looked her fill at just how beautiful Mason really was. His muscular chest, his flat stomach, the nest of tight curls that protected his jutting manhood. She reached out and tenderly took ho
ld of his cock. Taking her time she explored him with her eyes, her hands, and finally her lips. His cock was so hard and yet curiously soft. The flesh that covered the mighty muscle was like satin. She ran her fingers over the surface, playing along his cock as if she was playing a piano. Mason groaned and she smiled the secret smile of a woman that knew she had complete power. Then, with her gaze holding his, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. He groaned again and his hips bucked. Twirling her tongue around his shaft, she dipped her tongue into the small opening at the top, lapping at the cum just forming there.

  Mason reached out and cupped the back of her head as she began to suckle his shaft. Moving her head up and down she slowly and surely took him farther into her mouth. Momentarily she gagged. He was so big and so thick and she needed to adjust to his size. Easing him out slightly, she re-angled her head and slowly took him in to the hilt. Mason groaned again. Setting the rhythm, Holly moved her hand backward and forward along his shaft. She suckled at the head. Another deep primal groan and Mason spilled his hot seed deep into her throat.

  Easing him out of her mouth, Holly, feeling the power, ran her hand along his sensitised flesh, enjoying his exquisite agony.

  * * * *

  Morning brought disappointment for Holly. Mason was to go away in a couple of weeks on a secret op. At breakfast when Mason told her about his absence, it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms and beg for him not to go. However, as Mason showed no such emotion, she struggled against the tears, pulled back her shoulders, and lifting her chin, greeted his news with nothing but a small moue of disappointment. Holding Mason’s concentrated look with some difficulty, she quickly diffused the intensity of the moment with a small joke about him being a runaway bridegroom.

  * * * *

  The next two weeks went quickly and Holly revelled in the time she had with Mason. They walked, talked, made plans, and made love. Each day brought new revelations as to the man Mason really was and Holly realised that she was indeed a lucky woman. Hard and filled with strength and courage, Mason had a softer, kinder side. A side that felt for his fellow man but also had compassion, pity, and love for the animals of the world. It was because of this compassion he wanted to open a sanctuary. Injured, orphaned, and unwanted animals were all welcome and if they could not be released back into the wild they would be housed at Saviour for the rest of their lives. Holly was caught up with Mason’s enthusiasm and was excited at the prospect of working side by side with him, seeing a future of companionship, family, and love. She could just picture them in years to come, sitting on the veranda in rocking chairs, their children all grown up, laying the big old table in the garden ready for a picnic, and their offspring, hers and Mason’s grandchildren playing at their feet. Saviour would be flourishing and hundreds of animals would have been saved. The daydream filled her with happiness and hope for the future.

  * * * *

  The days till Mason’s departure flew by and it was all Holly could do to hold the tears in check. However, finally it was that time. Mason stood tall and handsome in his uniform, his cap with the upside-down Excalibur tucked under his arm and with his holdall at his feet he looked into her swimming eyes. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close before lifting her chin and taking her lips in a devastating kiss, drawing from her a response she’d never experienced before. The feeling of her heart being tugged from her body. Suddenly, as a tremendous feeling of dread overwhelmed her, she grabbed hold of his arms as he made to pull away.

  “Mason,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. “I–I…”

  “You?” He stared intently into her eyes and Holly felt he was waiting for something, but she knew not what. She just knew she wanted to keep him with her, tell him of her love for him, and tell him that she was worried that—she bit her lip. That, if he went now she wouldn’t see him again. And that thought almost destroyed her. However, she bit back the words. It was too early in their relationship to open herself to him that way. The intense emotions that were overtaking her would be sure to scare him off.

  “Err, nothing, it’s nothing. Just—take care, please.”

  Mason smiled gently down at her. He realised that she loved him. It shone out of her eyes like a beacon, but he knew she wasn’t ready to admit it to him yet. Soundlessly he sighed. He could wait. They had a lifetime together to look forward to after all. Lightly tapping the end of her nose, he tenderly caressed her face with a large callused hand before kissing her long and hard.

  Pulling back from her tenacious hold, he winked and, picking up his holdall, jogged down the steps to the jeep. A quick salute and he got in and drove away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days since Mason’s departure dragged for Holly. She wandered from room to room, roamed outside, and returned home sad and lonely. She knew it was ridiculous. Mason would be home soon, but she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that seemed to hang around her like a ghostly spectre. Mrs. Henry clucked around her like a mother hen, making tasty meals to tempt her almost nonexistent appetite, whilst the gardener brought in armfuls of flowers from the hothouse in the hope of cheering her up. Their attentions kindly meant hadn’t helped and she moped, and moped and moped some more counting the days until Mason’s return and childishly crossed them off on the calendar.

  Eventually the time for Mason’s homecoming had arrived and Holly felt dizzy with excitement. Mrs. Henry was to make Mason’s favourite meal of steak, new potatoes, green beans, and rich gravy followed by apple pie and cream, and William the gardener had once again outdone himself and brought in marvellous flowers, leaving Holly to fill vases with the bright and sweetly scented blossoms.

  Feeling adventurous and decisive, Holly went into the town and had her hair styled so now it swung softly and lovingly around her shoulders. Impulsively, and as it was such a special occasion she had also purchased a gorgeous new dress, a sleeveless black taffeta-covered dress with shimmering gold roses. It fitted like a second skin across her breasts, nipped in at the waist, and swung out with the aid of a voluptuous net petticoat to the knees. A dress that she hoped would knock Mason’s socks off, especially when he eventually got to see the gorgeously sexy lingerie she wore underneath. However…

  As the afternoon drew to a close and there was no sign of Mason, Holly wandered to and fro to the windows staring out into the dark moonless night. Where was he?

  Turning from the window, she fiddled with ornaments, rearranged flowers, and, throwing herself into a chair, flicked through a magazine, one ear straining for the sounds of the car. The strident ringing of the telephone brought her to her feet and she waited with baited breath and sweaty palms as the receiver was picked up by the housekeeper. Moments later Mrs. Henry opened the door.

  “It’s for you, Miss Holly. It’s the base.”

  Biting her lip and refusing to think of anything at all, Holly walked slowly to the hall and, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms down the sides of her dress, she picked up the receiver. There was that feeling of dread again.

  “H–hello, Holly Black here.”

  Moments later a heavy feeling in the place where her heart should be, Holly replaced the handset, desperately trying not to cry.

  “Mason isn’t coming home tonight. They’ve sent him somewhere else and he will be gone for an unspecified time. But they will keep in touch,” Holly whispered through dry lips to the housekeeper who had been hovering solicitously.

  “Oh, Miss Holly, and you so looking forward to his return. But no matter. It won’t be long before he’s back. Now you just sit yourself by the fire and I’ll bring you your dinner on a tray.”

  “Oh no, thank you, Mrs. Henry. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

  Slowly Holly made her way up the stairs, tears streaming down her cheeks and her chest hurting as she tried desperately not to scream and sob out her anguish.

  * * * *

  Morning came and with it more anguish. Holly knew she was behaving irrationally, but she felt vu
lnerable. Still niggled by the ominous feelings, she wished she had told Mason before he’d left just how much she loved him. What if something should happen to him and she never had the opportunity to tell him of her feelings? How could she go on? She’d loved Adam and he’d known that, but he’d died and she’d been left alone. However, at least she had known she was loved and had loved in return. Then there had been Alex. She had thought herself in love with him, but he’d just been using her to get money and eventually she had realised that she had never really loved him. She had just been in love with love. The hope and the joy, and the need to feel loved and wanted. And finally there was Mason, and for her she had hoped, third time lucky. A kind, gentle man, a man whose strength and virility had drawn her to him, causing her to fall helplessly and irrevocably in love with him, but she had not told him of her feelings. And now—was it too late? She drew a shuddering breath. Or was she just a victim of her past sorrow and overactive imagination?

  * * * *

  The days dragged, the hours ticking slowly by and more than once Holly had thought the clocks had stopped. Each day was like the last with her wandering listlessly from room to room, waiting for a message or a phone call to confirm Mason’s return. Eventually getting under Mrs. Henry’s feet and annoying the hell out of that kind lady, although she had been at pains not to show it. Holly donned a coat and, fetching Sumo, went for another long and exhausting walk. The weather had turned cold and overcast, the sun barely making it through the curtain of low-hanging clouds. The wind whipped up the fallen leaves, sending them flying in all directions and she shivered, snuggling deeper into her coat and pulling her hat farther down over her ears. Sumo was having a wild time scampering from tree to tree and racing back to her, carrying sticks for her to throw. Entering the wood she walked aimlessly going deeper and deeper into its interior. It was Sumo barking that brought her attention back to her surroundings. Entering a small clearing she pulled the dog back from chasing a squirrel and turned to look at the small building. Made of stone, with one small cracked and dirty window and a dilapidated old door, it took on the proportions of the old cottage in the children’s fable of Hansel and Gretel. This she presumed was the old ranger’s hut Mason had told her about. But…