Perhaps she should have been feeling guilty and disloyal to her husband’s memory, but she didn’t. She had done everything she could to be a good wife while her husband was alive. Now that he was gone, she saw no reason to feel guilty for living. After all, it’s not as if she had gone in search of a man to become her lover. She and Aidan had been thrown together by chance. They couldn’t help that they had felt an instant attraction for one another.
Naomi’s late husband had been as different from Aidan as night was from day. She had met Richard when she was seventeen, and she had been instantly smitten with his handsome face and charming wit. She had been full of girlish dreams of having a husband and family of her own.
Naomi had been an only child, orphaned at the age of twelve. Having a big, happy family of her own had always been important to her. Her parents had died in a house fire, and she had been left homeless and alone. An aged aunt had taken her in out of obligation, but she always let Naomi know that she was not really welcome in her aunt’s home.
Her parents had left Naomi a small inheritance. She knew it was more than enough to compensate her aunt for her upkeep. However, her aunt always made Naomi feel that she was a burden and that she was unwanted. Her aunt had a knack for making Naomi feel insecure and dreadfully flawed.
During the five years that she lived with her aunt, Naomi nurtured her dreams of making a life for herself with a loving husband and children she could cherish. When she met Richard, she had felt certain that he was the right man to fulfill her dreams.
However, at forty years of age, Richard had been more than twice her age. He barely noticed Naomi at first. To him, she had seemed little more than a child.
Naomi had worshipped him from the start, and she had made up her mind that he would become her husband some day. She had been dedicated to making him see her as a woman and winning his affection.
Naomi had begun dressing in styles that were quite mature for her age. She had begun circulating with women who were older and already married. Soon, she was being invited to many of the same dinner parties and social engagements as Richard. As several of his friends began to notice her, Richard took notice too. Naomi flourished beneath his attention, growing ever more confident and mature.
It hadn’t taken long for Richard to become enchanted by Naomi’s beauty and sweet disposition. She was the center of attention for the eligible men of their social circle. Richard began to view her as a possible wife. The more other men vied for her attentions, especially his good friend Dr. Morton, the more determined Richard grew to have her for his own.
Even her aunt approved of Richard, and she told Naomi that she was incredibly lucky that he was interested in her. Her aunt admonished her not to let him get away, since it was unlikely any other man would want her.
The day he proposed marriage, it seemed that all her dreams were coming true. Richard swore that her agreement to become his wife had made him the luckiest man alive.
Their wedding was a lavish affair, with the best of San Francisco society in attendance. Naomi felt like a princess in a fairy tale, and she was convinced she had found her prince.
Richard was a caring husband, even if he was often distracted by his business interests. He was a gentle lover, and he treated Naomi almost as if she were a fragile doll.
When he came to her bed, it was always in the dark of night. They made love only beneath the covers, and neither of them ever undressed. Richard sometimes caressed her breasts or felt between her thighs, but his touch was brief and perfunctory. Then, he would press into her body gently, thrust his hips for a few brief moments and then moan in satisfaction.
Naomi had always been left feeling bewildered, restless and unsatisfied, but she had assumed those feelings were normal. Other wives seemed to feel similarly. They spoke of “wifely duties” as an ordeal … something to be endured and tolerated rather than something to enjoy. They reassured her that once she had a few children, her husband would make less frequent demands on her.
Naomi was too embarrassed to explain that she actually wished Richard would spend more time with her in bed. She hungered for something, even though she didn’t understand exactly what she was missing. She thought that there must be something wrong with her to have such unseemly desires. Since Richard was so good to her in other ways, Naomi never questioned him about their relationship in bed. She assumed he knew best.
In fact, Richard ran every aspect of their lives. If he was sometimes a bit high handed, impatient or dismissive, she attributed his behavior to the difference in their ages and the fact that he was always busy with running his business. She was content to let him steer their relationship. She felt honored that he had chosen her for his wife, and she assumed that all was well.
For a time, Naomi blossomed as his wife. It seemed for the first year that their marriage was nearly perfect. Richard was a prosperous businessman in San Francisco. He provided Naomi with a lovely home, lavish clothes, and fine furnishings. He mentored her as she grew into a mature young woman, and he took pride in her acceptance among his friends. His family became her family. His friends became her friends. She built her entire world around her husband, and her life seemed happy and full. She was no longer alone. She no longer felt unloved or unwanted.
Their life together had indeed seemed perfect, except for one very important thing. The one thing Richard asked of her, she had not been able to give him. In all the time they were married, Naomi never became pregnant.
They hadn’t worried about it at first. In fact, during their first few months together, Richard teased her that they would simply have to try harder. He began to come to her bed every night rather than only once or twice a week. Despite her growing sexual frustration, Naomi didn’t complain about his nightly demands. She was desperate to have Richard’s child. He reassured her, confident that she would soon conceive.
They shrugged off the comments of family and friends who kept asking when they were going to have children. Over time, the comments stopped, to be replaced by pitying glances. It was obvious that everyone thought Naomi was less than a perfect wife. She was a disappointment. She was a failure.
Richard’s parents, anxious for grandchildren, didn’t bother to hide their outright disapproval of Naomi. They remarked on several occasions that a woman who couldn’t bear children was something less than a real woman. It gradually became obvious that Richard felt the same, although he never came right out and said so in words.
As months and then years passed, their lovemaking became a desperate chore. Even Richard no longer took pleasure in their coupling. Each time he came to her, it seemed he was on a mission, finishing his business as quickly as possible and then returning to his own bed to sleep.
Naomi often cried herself to sleep. Each month when she had her courses, his moods would alternate between despair and anger. He never said it in words, but the blame was there in his eyes when he looked at her. After three years of marriage, he stopped coming to her bed at all.
During the fourth and fifth years of their short marriage, Richard began to stay out late, night after night. Sometimes he didn’t come home at all, and he claimed he had slept at the office. Naomi heard rumors that he had a series of mistresses. She didn’t feel that she could confront him, because she felt so guilty about not giving him a child. Instead, she pretended not to know, and they drifted even further apart.
Then, just as quickly as Richard had come into her life, he was gone. One day, he was a strong, vigorous man in the prime of his life, and two weeks later, he was dead. Richard’s illness progressed so quickly that Naomi was caught off guard. She had thought he had a cold or influenza, but he developed a terrible fever, lapsed into a coma and never recovered.
To add to her pain, Dr. Morton, one of Richard’s long time friends and one of the many men who had been interested in marrying her himself, said that Richard had died from syphilis. The doctor insisted that she allow him to examine her lest she also fall ill from the dreadful disease.
Naomi had never liked the doctor, and she didn’t feel comfortable in his company. He always looked at her in a way that made her slightly nervous. However, when he mentioned syphilis and offered to perform the exam for her, she allowed him to do so. He told her it would be easier than having some strange doctor do the exam.
Dr. Morton had instructed her to come to his office late one afternoon, soon after Richard’s death. The doctor had his nurse draw a sample of Naomi’s blood, and then he dismissed the nurse for the rest of the day. Naomi remembered feeling uncomfortable being alone with him, but nonetheless, she had allowed him to continue with the examination. She had no way of knowing just how humiliating the experience would be.
Even now, two years afterward, Naomi shuddered as she remembered the ordeal. The doctor had begun by making her undress completely. She remembered walking out from behind the privacy screen, blushing while she tried to shield her nudity with her hands.
The doctor had pulled her hands down to her sides and had instructed her to stand in the middle of his office while he walked all around her. He had touched and looked at literally every inch of her body. She remembered the feeling of his fingers stroking and exploring her. Not being a physician herself, she had no real idea what he had been looking for, but she had been too mortified at the time to question anything the doctor did.
The doctor had spent an inordinate amount of time examining her breasts. Naomi had fought back shudders of disgust as he arrogantly handled her breasts. Her cheeks had flamed, and she kept her eyes squeezed tightly closed while he cupped her breasts in his hands and pinched and squeezed her nipples. She could swear that she heard him groan with pleasure at one point, but she felt too terrified to confront him. He had explained that he was looking for lesions, rashes or swollen glands. However, in hindsight, she was convinced that he had simply been enjoying himself by humiliating her.
Just when she thought the worst was over, he had instructed her to lay down on a special examination table. To her everlasting shame, he had placed her feet into metal stirrups and brusquely pushed her thighs wide apart. Naomi still remembered the small sound of obvious pleasure he made while he stood looking down at her most private and vulnerable flesh. She had squeezed her eyes tightly shut once again and gripped the edges of the narrow table. His hands made her skin crawl as he stroked and examined her for what seemed like an eternity.
She had protested when he inserted two fingers inside her, but he had insisted he needed to feel for any lesions that might not be visible from the outside. Once again, she had submitted to his will, inwardly cringing with shame. She still remembered the mortifying feeling of his loathsome fingers moving inside her body. It had probably only lasted a minute or two, but the excruciating ordeal was still burned in her memory.
At last, he had finally patted the inside of her thighs, still standing between them so that she couldn’t close her legs. She would never forget what he said to her as he stood there, still staring down at her exposed flesh.
“You’re very lucky, Naomi. I don’t see any signs that you have contracted syphilis. In fact, your body is quite beautiful.” He had leered at her then, and she had felt like vomiting. “After a respectable period of mourning, I hope that you will allow me to court you.”
She had barely been able to speak, and her reply had come out as a mere whisper. “May I get dressed now, please?”
“Yes, of course dear.”
Naomi had nearly died from embarrassment as she jumped down from the table and ran behind the screen to get dressed again. She had been greatly relieved when the doctor pronounced that she did not have the dreaded disease. However, she had been left with the knowledge that Richard’s infidelity had led to his death.
The doctor had informed her that she had been extremely fortunate that Richard stopped coming to her bed once he began consorting with mistresses. Naomi had fled from the doctor’s office, feeling utterly violated. She had firmly resolved to never set eyes on the wretched doctor ever again.
Despite knowing that Richard’s affairs had brought about his own death, Naomi was filled with guilt and grief. If only she had given Richard a child, she was convinced he would never have strayed from their marriage bed. She felt like the worst kind of failure, and she sank into a pit of despair.
At first, her friends gathered around her, supporting her through her grief. They visited her often, trying to comfort her. When her prescribed period of mourning was over, they seemed to think she should carry on with her life, meet someone new and remarry. She had several offers, including one from the lecherous doctor. However, Naomi was not the least bit interested in remarrying. She declined the many offers and ignored the advice of her friends to “move on with her life”.
Over time, the visits became less frequent, and finally, they stopped altogether. Naomi was once again alone. She lived alone in her dead husband’s house, with only a handful of servants for company. At the age of twenty two, she had felt as if her life was over.
As far as Naomi was concerned, a second marriage was out of the question. Knowing she could never have a real family of her own, she preferred to remain a widow. In the two years following Richard’s death, not a single man had stirred her emotions or inspired even a hint of desire in her.
The idea of being some man’s wife left her feeling completely disinterested. In fact, after her experience in the doctor’s office, the thought of a man touching her again had been completely repugnant.
Naomi spent two years feeling depressed. She barely ate, and very rarely left the house. She had gone from being the center of the party to being a hermit. There was no sparkle in her eyes, no smile to brighten her face. She felt like her life was utterly pointless, without any purpose or goal.
Then, one day, fate stepped in to dally in her life once more. One of the maids gave notice that she would be leaving Naomi’s employment because she was getting married and moving to Oregon with her new husband. Naomi began to dream about what it might be like to go to a new place, where no one knew her or pitied her or disapproved of her. She could be alone and not have to worry about the opinions of others. She was sick of being told what she should and should not do. She was tired of being judged.
Naomi began to read about Oregon. She began going to the library, tracking down old newspapers and maps of the area. It sounded like a land of opportunity, a place for new beginnings. It sounded like the place she wanted to be. When she came across a newspaper notice of a farm that was for sale in the Willamette valley, it sounded like it was heaven sent, just for her. It sounded like this farm in Oregon might hold some tiny bit of purpose for her life.
She had a small bit of wealth from her husband’s estate. Without a second thought, Naomi put in a bid on the farm. When she found out that her bid had been successful, she sold her house and furnishings. She raised just over two thousand dollars, enough to finance her move and see her through the first few years while she made a fresh start. Without any explanations to anyone, she packed her things and left. She told no one where she was going. She didn’t want any reminders of her old life to follow her.
She hadn’t been looking for a man. She had only been looking for peace and solitude. For years, she had believed that any possibility of someday finding sexual satisfaction had died with Richard.
Meeting Aidan had changed her entire perspective. She had been astonished to realize that not only were her passions alive and well, they were stronger than ever before. The desire she felt for Aidan was not the girlish infatuation she had felt for her husband, but the full-bodied, overwhelming, mature desire of a twenty four year old woman. In fact, the passion she felt for Aidan was an all-consuming need that she had never felt before.
Naomi knew she should probably be feeling ashamed or guilty. She had not only seduced Aidan, she had encouraged him to totally ravish her. Yet shame and guilt were not among the emotions she was feeling. She felt invigorated, amazed, incredibly feminine and desirable, and surprisingly read
y to repeat the experience. She had thought that making love with Aidan would satisfy her hunger, and it had … beyond her wildest dreams. However, she was surprised to realize that she was ravenous for more.
Aidan stirred behind her, and his hand tightened reflexively on her breast. Naomi shivered, moaning softly as she pressed the mound against his palm and rubbed the back of his hand in encouragement.
He came awake with a start, lifting his head to stare at her in amazement. She wasn’t just a fantasy, the result of his lewd imaginings. Naomi was actually lying naked and thoroughly tempting in his arms. The sight of her nubile body writhing sensuously against him shook the last few cobwebs from his brain.
Naomi turned in his arms to face him and feathered inviting little kisses along the strong line of his jaw. “Hello again,” she purred. She began unbuttoning his shirt, trailing kisses down his throat and chest as she exposed more and more of his flesh. “I thought you would never wake up.”
She felt like a child in a candy store. She was suddenly eager to explore Aidan’s body, and she rushed to open all the buttons.
At her prompting, Aidan shrugged out of his shirt, somewhat in a daze. This was not what he had planned. From the first day they had met, which was only two days prior, he had known he wanted a relationship with Naomi. However, he had been thinking along the lines of courtship and marriage. He hadn’t intended to seduce her or take her as his lover, and he was struggling to comprehend how things had progressed so suddenly and where they now found themselves.
Naomi pressed lightly on his shoulder, and he fell onto his back. She traced his chest and abdomen, a look of fascination on her beautiful face. She began exploring his chest with her soft lips, nipping and suckling his nipples and running her fingers through the sparse smattering of hair. He gripped the sides of her head and lifted her face until she met his eyes.
Second Chances: Aidan's Bride (The McKenzie Series #1) Page 6