Christina looked down at Miles and saw that he was gazing up at her, his eyes a reflection of her own, awash with desire and love. Her throat tightened and her heart was clattering as she bent towards him, her mouth anxiously searching out the centre of his passion just as his own had searched for hers a short while before.
He groaned as her mouth made contact with his body. ‘Oh God, Christie, what do you do to me?’
She filled her mouth with his sex, her lips lingering lovingly on him.
Now Miles was truly hers, spread out before her, immobile and breathless, offering himself up to her, a gift of love. And she was possessing the very core of him, his life’s essence, his soul; at that moment he belonged entirely to her.
He ran his fingers through her thick and tumbled hair, and caressed her shoulders, then brought his hands down to clasp hers gently resting on his stomach. He clenched his fingers around hers in a tenacious hold. An aching moan trickled from his throat.
She lifted her eyes and saw a fleeting flash of anguish smudge out the bright blue of his eyes, so that they became dark and flaring.
Suddenly Miles moved, put his hands around her face, lifted it up. He leaned down to her, kissed her sweetly, and then gently pulled her up the bed to him. He said, ‘I want you, Christie, want to be inside you. I must be enveloped in that lovely warmth that is you, my darling.’
Suddenly he was on top of her, floating over her, and she was drowning in the midnight blueness of his eyes. He entered her almost roughly, and she began to quiver as she felt the rock-hard thrust of him. It was as if they ignited each other, moving in a rhythm that soon began to attain great intensity. His passion seemed to spiral up and up, and she met its flight, rising higher and higher with him, at one with him. There was no separation any more.
Miles opened his eyes and looked at her and cried harshly, ‘Oh God! Oh you! Oh I—’ He crushed his mouth on her; devoured her lips, her tongue.
‘I want all of you,’ he whispered against the hollow of her neck. ‘All of your essence, all of your breath, all of you!’ And he began to move against her with a sudden burst of strength.
Christina felt as if he had reached up and touched her heart. And then, as if from a long distance, she heard his name being called. But it was she who was shouting, ‘Miles! Miles! I love you!’
They clung to each other with a kind of desperateness, were welded together in an embrace that was primal and full of need. His mouth sought hers briefly, and as he drew all of her strength into him he rushed headlong into the core of her.
And she heard him cry, ‘Christie! Christie! I love you I love you I can’t live without you don’t ever leave oh my God I’m coming come to me my love.’
***
He lay motionless with his head on her shoulder.
Christina felt dazed. She looked down at his translucent face and her tears welled up. What was it about his face? That face that so moved her, touched some inner spring of memory so poignant it made her want to cry at times.
Miles moved, opened his eyes. ‘What happens to us when we’re together like this?’
‘I don’t know. I think we float off somewhere. At least I do. Haven’t you noticed that in me, Miles?’
‘No, but then I’m wherever it is you are, Christie.’
‘Have you ever been there before? With anyone else?’
‘No.’ He cleared his throat, said softly, ‘I think I know what happens to us, darling… when the sex act is so perfect, as it is with us, then that combination of the most intense physical pleasure and ecstasy along with complete mental and emotional connection makes the experience transcendental. We’re transported to a higher level of consciousness.’
‘Yes, Miles, I think we are.’
He stroked her hair, turned her face to his, murmured, ‘Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm, for love is strong as death—’ He paused and frowned. ‘Now I’ve gone and ruined it because I can’t remember any more.’
‘Jealousy is cruel as the grave,’ Christina supplied.
‘Yes, that’s it. What comes next?’
‘I can’t remember either, but I know a bit of the next verse. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it. You see, I know my Bible too.’
‘Yes…’ Miles was hesitant and then he said, ‘Christie, there’s something I haven’t told you… I did something when you were in New York for your show a couple of weeks ago…’
When he did not finish his sentence and because he sounded so serious, grave, she sat up swiftly, stared at him. ‘What did you do?’
Miles also sat, reached for a cigarette on the bedside table, and lit it. He took a long draw, and then looked at her, said slowly, carefully, ‘I did something I vowed I would never do ever again. I went to see Candida. To ask for a divorce.’
‘And?’
‘The answer was no. Many nos were flung at me, along with a variety of threats about creating a scandal if I broach it again.’ He exhaled. ‘I went to see her because I want to marry you, Christie. I don’t want this creeping around corners, being unable to take you out with me. I want you as my wife.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘But it seems that’s not to be.’
‘I don’t care,’ she exclaimed, coming into his arms. ‘It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, Miles, as long as we can be together.’
CHAPTER 49
‘What’s the matter darling?’ Miles asked, walking across the living room of the Walton Street flat. ‘Don’t you like the necklace?’ He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes, trying to ascertain why she appeared to be so upset.
Christina’s hand went up to her neck and she touched the lacy cobweb of delicate gold chains set with diamonds and opals, then lowered her eyes to look at it. ‘Miles, it’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever had. I love it.’
‘Then why such a long face, Christie?’ He lowered himself onto the sofa next to her and took her slender, tapering hand in his. ‘Is it because I can’t spend Christmas with you? Because if it is, I’ll try to do something about cutting the holiday short. Look, I have an idea, I’ll spend the day with you on Christmas Eve,’ he said, improvising rapidly. ‘Then that evening I’ll drive down to Suffolk in order to have dinner with the boys and my parents. I’ll spend Christmas Day with them, come back to town for Boxing Day with you, and—’
‘Miles, no, I won’t let you cut yourself in two like that, or change your plans at this late date. Besides, it would be impossible for me to change mine. My parents would be so unhappy if I didn’t go to Yorkshire, they’ve been looking forward to it, and I haven’t seen much of them lately, you know that.’
‘Candida isn’t going to be there, if that’s what you’re thinking. She really is going to take Monica up to Scotland. They’re to stay at her father’s shooting lodge with him.’ Miles shook his head in puzzlement. ‘I’ll never know why she suddenly said I could have the boys, I really won’t.’
Christina sat staring ahead at the fireplace.
Miles lifted his hand, turned her face to his. ‘That is the God’s honest truth, darling. Candida won’t be at Broxley Hall.’ When she remained silent, he exclaimed, ‘You do believe me, don’t you, Christina?’
She heard the anxiety in his voice and saw the alarm on his face, and she squeezed his hand. ‘Oh Miles, I know very well you’d never lie to me, it’s not in your nature.’
Miles looked deeply into her face. Her emotions were always explicit in her eyes. They usually told him everything. He saw that she was still perturbed but decided not to press her for the moment. They would not be seeing each other for a whole week, the longest they had been apart in the last six months. He had wanted it to be a very special night and he had no intention of spoiling it.
Almost as if he had telegraphed this thought to her, Christina pushed a bright smile onto her face and jumped to her feet. ‘Darling, fling a couple of logs on the fire and open the champagne, and let’s settle in for a really gorgeous evening. I’m going to ge
t your presents… after all, this is our Christmas tonight.’
‘Righto,’ he said, standing, smiling at her. He pulled her to him, kissed the hollow in her neck. ‘I do love you so much.’
She extricated herself gently and ran to the bedroom, turned in the doorway. He was standing watching her intently. She blew him a kiss.
Miles was fiddling with the cork in the champagne bottle when she came floating back into the room, her arms full of packages. ‘Those are not all for me, are they?’
She grinned at him and carried them over to the fireplace. ‘One more trip, and that’s it.’
He shook his head, laughing with her, and his heart was full of love. There was no woman in this world quite like his Christie.
‘You’ve always hankered after this,’ she said, walking towards him, carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. ‘And I especially want you to have it. And it’s with all of my love, my darling.’
He took the parcel, knowing it was one of her paintings. Since he had admired them all he did not know which one this was. He smiled at her. ‘Thank you, Christie. It’s one of your paintings from the shape… which one is it?’
‘Open it and see for yourself.’ She stood with her back to the fire watching him as he carried the package to the sofa and tore off the paper. When he had the painting in his hands he held it up and exclaimed, ‘Oh Christie, Lily at Hadley… oh Christie, how generous of you to give me this particular one. I know it’s your favourite. Thank you.’ He put the painting against the sofa, came over and hugged her tightly.
Christina saw he was pleased, and this pleased her. She said, ‘It only became my favourite after we met at Hadley Court… and that’s why I want you to have it, because it will always remind you of me.’
His smile slipped, and he frowned at her. ‘Are you going away?’
‘No, silly. Why do you ask that?’
‘It was the way you said remind me of you… as if I’d need reminding of you when you’re always going to be with me, by my side, come what may.’
‘Of course I am, Miles. You just took it the wrong way. Now how about a glass of champagne before you open the rest of your presents.’
‘Coming right up.’ He went to pour the drinks, remarking, ‘I had a Christmas card and a scribbled note from Ralph and Dulcie. I understand they’re going to stay in New York for a while, what with that picture coming up in Hollywood and the possibility of a Broadway play. And what have you heard from Jane lately?’
‘She was grumbling about the little monsters going over to New York for Christmas when she called me yesterday at the office. But otherwise she doesn’t have much news. She’s going to do the costumes for the new Hal Prince play on Broadway and she said she’d be staying on for another six months.’
‘Good for her. Jane’s a talented girl.’ Miles brought their drinks and they clinked glasses. ‘Happy Christmas, my sweet.’
‘Happy Christmas, Miles.’
They sat in front of the fire, slowly demolishing the bottle of Dom Pérignon whilst Miles opened his gifts one by one, thanking her profusely, exclaiming over the books and jazz records, the ties and the silk dressing gown.
But it was the pair of sapphire cuff links that stunned him. ‘They’re quite extraordinary,’ he exclaimed at last, holding them in his hand, admiring them. ‘You’re far too extravagant.’
‘Listen who’s talking,’ she said, coming to kneel next to his chair, looking up at him adoringly. ‘Do you really like them?’
‘You know I do.’
‘So do I… they match your eyes.’
He smiled and put his hand in his pocket, brought out a small gift-wrapped box. ‘And this is another Christmas present from me.’
It was a ring: a large opal ring surrounded by diamonds. It matched the necklace he had given her earlier, and the ring was just as exquisite.
‘Thank you so much, Miles. How lovely it is.’ She slipped it on her right hand, held her hand out, looking at it.
Miles said, ‘Wrong hand, darling.’ He pulled the ring off and put it on her left hand. ‘Let’s just say I prefer to see it there—’ He broke off, staring at her. Tears swam in her lovely grey eyes and her lip trembled. ‘Christie, whatever is it?’
She shook her head, brushed her eyes with her hand, swallowed. ‘Miles…’
‘Yes, darling, what is it? Whatever’s wrong?’
Christina looked at him carefully. Her eyes held his. ‘I’m pregnant.’
She saw the instant flash of happiness and pride in his eyes, the sudden delighted smile he couldn’t suppress and which revealed so much. And then his face was wiped clean like an empty slate. ‘Oh Christie,’ he said and shook his head slowly. ‘Oh Christie…’
And she could not fail to miss the dismal tone, the misery in his eyes, the worry which was now enveloping him. She knew him far too well. ‘But you were pleased a second ago!’ she cried, taking his hand. ‘I know you were!’
‘Of course I was, but—’ He was unable to continue. Miles swallowed, and deep within himself he knew that he had never loved her so much as he did at this moment.
She said, ‘I wasn’t going to tell you tonight. If you hadn’t taken the ring off my right hand and put it on the other, I wouldn’t have.’
‘I’m glad you did… we’re in this together. You can’t carry such a burden all alone, Christie.’
‘I didn’t want to worry you, not with Christmas just around the corner. I didn’t want to spoil it for you… you don’t get to see the boys enough as it is.’
He touched her cheek. ‘You’re always so thoughtful, my lovely Christie.’ He sat back in the chair, then said, ‘Well, this does present us with a problem, doesn’t it, darling?’
She nodded. ‘Miles, I don’t want to have… an abortion, I just don’t. I realize a baby would be difficult for you to handle, but I was thinking—’
‘Christie, a baby wouldn’t be difficult it would be impossible. I don’t want you to have an abortion either.’ His brow furrowed. ‘I just don’t know what the solution is right at this minute.’
‘Why couldn’t I have the baby, Miles? Who would know it was yours. Only you and I… I’m healthy financially, I can take care of everything, and—’
‘I’m not sure that would work,’ he interrupted swiftly. ‘What if something leaked out… my political career…’
‘Yes, I know, there are so many things to consider, aren’t there?’
‘When did you find out?’
‘Four days ago.’
‘You should have told me before. I can’t bear to think how dreadfully worried you must have been, Christie. It was wrong of you not to confide in me.’
‘I didn’t want to upset you before Christmas. And now I suppose I have.’
‘Not at all. How pregnant are you?’
‘Six weeks.’
He brought her into his arms and held her close, stroked her head. ‘We’ll think of the proper solution,’ Miles murmured. ‘Try not to worry, darling. We’ll cope with everything after the holidays.’
CHAPTER 50
Although Miles had told her not to worry, Christina did little else for the next twenty-four hours as she prepared to go to Yorkshire to spend Christmas with her parents.
She worried about Miles. She worried about herself. She worried about the baby. Or more precisely, she worried about what to do about the baby.
Christina knew Miles Sutherland loved her with all of his heart and that he did not want her to have an abortion. She also knew deep within herself that he wanted the baby, wanted their child. Yet she was too pragmatic a woman not to understand that there was his political career looming over their heads.
He had once said to her, not in the heat of passion, but quietly on one of their long walks in the country: ‘You’re my life, Christie.’ But this was not strictly true. His political career was his life. And she could never ask him to give it up for her. To live openly with her. To have their baby.
If she did ask
him, he would consider it, might even do it. But one day he would regret it, and she would regret it even more. To ask this man whom she loved so desperately to sacrifice his career would mean that she did not love him at all.
Politics and Miles Sutherland were too intertwined ever to be separated. Miles would wither away and die without his constituency, his political cronies, the House of Commons and his life in that combative and exciting arena. Winston Churchill had once said he was a child of the House of Commons. So was Miles Sutherland.
And I am on the horns of a dilemma, I really am, Christina thought the following evening as she walked in from the Bruton Street fashion house at eight o’clock. Miles had left for Broxley Hall in Suffolk that morning, as loving and as warm and as concerned as he had been when she had broken the news. She had finished her Christmas shopping and then gone to her office to sign cheques, give out Christmas gifts, and to attend the Christmas party Giselle had given for the staff.
Now here she was with nothing to do but worry until tomorrow morning, when she was taking the Pullman to Leeds. After hanging up her coat, she went and put a match to the fire that Mrs Green, the char, had laid earlier, then hurried into the kitchen. She was not particularly hungry but she knew she ought to eat something, so she opened a can of tomato soup. As she waited for it to heat on the gas ring, she made herself a smoked salmon sandwich from the remnants left over from last night’s dinner.
Ten minutes later Christina took her light supper into the living room, and ate it in front of the now blazing fire. Her mind turned over various possibilities. She could have the baby and perhaps risk losing Miles. She could have an abortion. She could disappear into oblivion, move to a foreign country, have the baby and live abroad for the rest of her life. Miles could visit her from time to time.
She jumped up and began to walk up and down the room. How stupid I am, she thought. None of those possibilities would work. There is only one solution. Miles has to force Candida to give him a divorce so that we can be married. Of course! Why hadn’t she and Miles thought of it last night. Only because they were now both brain-washed into believing there never would be a divorce. But perhaps something could be worked out after all. Christina returned to the chair by the fireside and relaxed for the first time in several days.
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