by Jillian Dagg
"We're nearly there," she told Richard. He woke up and stretched his cramped limbs.
"Are we really?" he grinned, and leaned over her to look out of the window, his hand warm on her shoulder. He seemed happy to be returning home.
"Did you ever mind giving up England?" Tanya asked watching the vast country spread beneath her.
"Not really. Will you mind?" His breath fanned her hair against her neck.
"I don't think so." She reached out blindly and took hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice.
* * * *
The terminal at Toronto Airport was crowded, mostly with charter flights, but they got through quite easily.
"Where's the car?" she asked, as they stood waiting for their luggage to come through. Richard had sent the Ferrari ahead of them a few days so that it would be waiting on their arrival.
"It should be here," he told her.
She fiddled with the strap of her leather handbag, feeling crumpled and travel-worn in her green pantsuit. Richard looked as cool as he had before the flight. Tanya noticed several women openly admiring him. He's mine, she thought.
The idea made her feel weak at the knees.
Finally their luggage came. Richard got someone to take it upstairs to where the car was parked. She looked at him questioningly, wondering how the Ferrari could have possibly got there so quickly.
"They're used to me," he told her, putting some of the luggage in the trunk, and some in the small storage space behind the two front seats. "Let's get out of this place."
He took her to a hotel not far from the airport terminal.
"My place is a long way up north," he explained. "I couldn't have made it today, besides I have to visit my doctor tomorrow before I go."
"I see," she said, feeling guilty because she'd forgotten for a minute how ill he was.
They left the elevator and found the room he'd reserved.
He inserted the key in the lock and, putting his hand against her back, pushed her into a luxurious suite.
Tanya looked around in astonishment. "It's huge. Like a flat."
He smiled, "Much more comfortable than a cramped room.
And, don't forget, this is a honeymoon of sorts."
She glanced down at her finger and twisted the gold band around. He moved around restlessly. They were both relieved by a tap on the door.
"Probably the bags." He answered the knock and tipped the man who brought their luggage in to the room.
When the man had gone, Tanya went to the window and looked out, pulling aside the heavy white drapes. Outside she could see the airport, silver planes with maple leaves on their tails, and somewhere a Union Jack stood out on a British
Airways jumbo jet. Traffic was steady on a network of freeways. The grassy landscaping between the concrete jungle was brown with only the slightest tinge of green.
"It's not the best view," Richard said taking off his jacket and throwing it over one of the sofas, "but there's a good restaurant in this hotel and the beds are comfortable. If you want a shower, just go ahead, you can be first."
She turned around to face him, realizing that she'd now have to share everything with this man. "I think I will," she said. "I feel a bit worn out."
"Of course. You can have whichever room you want."
So he didn't want her body, just her presence. The thought that there might be no physical involvement should have pleased her, but she felt a stab of pain. She picked up her small overnight bag and, choosing the room with the view of the airport she entered and closed the door.
She stayed in the shower a long time enjoying the feel of the water cascading upon her body. She washed her hair, shampooing it vigorously to clean the travel dirt out of it.
Then she went back to the bedroom and opened her bag and took out a silky floor-length robe. Her clothes were in the larger suitcases in the lounge. Clutching the robe around her, she went to the door. Richard was standing staring out of the window. He started when he sensed her presence.
"Finished?"
"I need some clean clothes," she told him shyly, indicating the suitcases on the floor.
He limped over to pick up her two cases and took them into her bedroom, placing them down on the white bedspread.
"Are you sure you should carry those?" she asked, worried.
"Why don't you leave that to me?" he said curtly, but she noticed that he put a hand to his back as he straightened.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it hurts," he told her, and left her room closing the door behind him.
She shrugged, wondering at the tumult of emotions that she'd experienced since she'd first met Richard. It was like being on a roller coaster, but she couldn't see herself stopping it and getting off. He wasn't even acting like a husband, more like an affectionate brother. Would he come to her tonight? She looked at the shiny gold band once again.
She had burned all her bridges now.
She dressed in a brown silk dress splashed with golden flowers. With it she wore brown suede high-heeled shoes, another of the purchases she'd made with Cheryle in London.
She was brushing her hair when she heard the shower running and Richard moving around in the bathroom. My husband, she thought and took a deep, steadying breath, thinking of him so close, water cascading over his muscular body. All she had to do was walk into the bathroom from her side.
What would he say? How would he react? Her blood raced.
Calm down, she told herself. He married you because he felt responsible for you, and, she could not help adding, because he needs you to take care of him. She did not dare think of the expression she had caught in his eyes. Affection? No, he barely knew her, even though they'd been living in the same house this past while. It was probably just male lust that he'd feel for any woman. She had seen the same look on the boy who had taken her to tea. But now, somehow it was different.
Very different. It was not a college boy's flirtation. This virile, experienced man was her husband.
The water stopped running. She heard Richard get out of the shower and leave the bathroom. For a second, Tanya met her green eyes in the mirror, then, squaring her shoulders, she walked out into the lounge. Richard's jacket was flung across the sofa. She picked it up and straightened it, running her hand idly over the smooth leather.
Then the door opened and he came out. Her heart skipped a beat. He had changed into a well-fitted dark suit, and combed back his hair.
"You look lovely," he commented, his eyes appraising. "We should really have some champagne to celebrate."
"It's fine," she said breathlessly, not quite knowing what to say.
He looked concerned. "This isn't much fun for you, is it?"
"Oh, Richard. It's a whole new adventure for me. I've never been out of England before. How can you say it's not fun?"
"No regrets?"
"Oh, no."
He smiled, "Okay, I'll take your word for it. Sit and relax for a few minutes while I make a phone call." He walked over to the phone and picked it up, absently straightening the coiled cord as he waited for the hotel operator to answer.
Then he asked for the number and waited.
"John, it's Richard. I'm back. Not too bad. Why don't you come over and have a drink with me after dinner, I've got a surprise."
"You'll like John," he said, on their way down to dinner.
She hoped she would. After all he was a friend of her husband's. And a wife would want to get to know his friends, wouldn't she?
They ate a quiet dinner. Richard insisted she have a glass of wine with her meal even though he couldn't drink since the accident. Tanya was surprised to find how hungry she was and ate a huge meal and even stretched to a piece of coconut cream pie for dessert.
"I'm going to get fat," she said, sitting back.
"I don't think you ever will," he smiled, his gray eyes appreciatively lingering on her. She lowered her gaze.
"When yo
u left for England a few weeks ago, I suppose you never dreamed that you'd come back with a wife?" she asked.
"Never."
"You asked me if I had any regrets, but what about you?"
He reached across the table, his fingers straying lightly across her left hand until they moved against the shiny new wedding ring. "No, I've no regrets."
When they'd finished their coffee, they went into the cocktail lounge where they where to meet John. They sat at a table not far from the door. At her request Richard ordered a creme de menthe and a club soda for himself. Shortly after, a dark haired man joined them.
"Richard. It's good to see you, you look good." John looked down at Tanya, a questioning look in his dark eyes. He had very black hair and sideburns. Tanya thought that he seemed a few years older than Richard.
"John Laughton, this is my wife Tanya." Richard introduced her.
"'Wife?" John looked dumbfounded.
"We met in England," Richard said briefly. "Why don't you sit down and join us instead of just standing there gawking?"
"Well, you must admit this is quite a surprise!" John laughed. "For this, I need a double scotch." He pulled up a chair and sat down. Tanya winced to see Richard maneuvering himself so awkwardly back into his chair.
"Well, Richard really picked himself a beauty! You are probably just what he needs! I've had him living with me for the past few months, and he's not exactly the easiest person to live with."
"Lies," Richard said coolly.
"It's debatable," John said, smiling at Tanya. "Do you speak, or just look lovely?"
"Of course," Tanya smiled.
"And with an English accent too. Don't be shy with me, I've known Richard since he first came here eleven years ago, and though I admit he's impossible, we've been good friends ever since. He has some good points—"
"You're making me blush with all your compliments," said Richard.
"When did you get married?" John asked Tanya.
"This morning," she told him, glancing at Richard.
"You mean I'm butting in on your wedding night?"
"It's okay," Richard said.
"It wouldn't be okay with me if I had a delicious woman like this for my wife, but then maybe..." he shrugged at a loss for words.
"Maybe you'd better shut up," Richard told him goodnaturedly.
"Maybe I'd better." John drained half his drink. "Tell me how you're feeling?" he asked Richard.
"Not bad," Richard said. "Time changes don't help, but I'm managing."
"He's been pretty sick," John told Tanya, "you have quite a handful."
"I know," Tanya said.
"She'll look after me," Richard told his friend.
"I'm sure she will," John smiled, "I'm sure she will."
They went on to talk about politics and England. John mentioned something about racing although he didn't pursue the subject.
"I'm going to go," he told them a little later in the evening,
"this is your honeymoon night after all."
Tanya didn't want him to go because she knew that once she was alone with Richard again she wouldn't know what to say to him. It was as though he were a complete stranger.
Richard stood up and so did Tanya.
They all walked to the door of the cocktail lounge.
After saying good-night to John, Tanya and Richard went up to their suite. Once inside, Richard shed his jacket and tie and turned on the television. He then settled himself on the sofa.
"What did you think of John?" he asked.
"He's nice," Tanya sat down beside him.
"You'll probably see a lot of him. He's a special friend."
"Did you race with him?" she asked.
"We were sponsored on the same team before the accident."
"Does he still race?"
"Not so much this season."
He changed the television channel to a movie.
Tanya sat quietly beside him, forcing interest in the screen. It was close to midnight when the movie finally ended. Richard stood up, stretched and reached out a hand for Tanya. She clasped his warm fingers. He looked strained.
Tanya wondered if the pain was bothering him. She felt he would be too proud to tell her if she asked. He had gone out of his way to give her a pleasant evening and she was sure he did not want to talk about his own problems.
Richard looked down at her small hand lying in his larger one, and drew her toward him. She could hear the movement of his heart through the thin cotton of his shirt. She felt his mouth moving against her hair. He lifted her hair from her neck and placed warm lips against her smooth skin.
She trembled so violently that she would have fallen, had it not been for his supporting arm. Tentatively, she put her arms around his waist, her fingers shyly caressing the warmth of his back.
His lips moved across her cheek and burned against her trembling mouth as his hands wandered down her back to rest on her spine. Newfound desires and emotions touched, disturbed and frightened her. Instinctively, she put her hands against his chest and pulled away, her breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath the thin silk of her dress.
"Richard," she said raggedly, wanting to give herself to him, but not sure of what was involved. If it meant producing the sensations to her body that she'd just experienced, she wasn't sure that she would be able to handle them.
He pulled her close to him again and stroked her hair, "I didn't realize you'd be so inexperienced," he said huskily.
"I'm sorry," she said. Maybe if they loved each other, things would be better, then it wouldn't be such a purely physical thing.
He held her away from him, his eyes dark and softened by lovemaking. "You'd better get to bed, we have to get up early in the morning. I have to see the doctor and then there's quite a long drive."
She nodded and he let her go.
"Good-night," she said.
"Good-night, sleep well," he whispered.
"Tanya?" She turned around, her hand on the door handle.
"When you feel you need me, that'll be soon enough," he said. "Now get to bed."
When she was in the room, she walked to the window and looked out at the flickering lights and cars moving along the freeway. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and her legs felt weak and shaky. She did need him.
She unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. She put on a pale green silk nightgown that she had bought in London. She sighed as she remembered the excitement she had felt wondering if Richard would like her in it. He was still walking about in the other room. Should she go and find out? Her mouth felt dry. No. Better not to push it. They were both tired. Turning off the light, she crawled into bed and drew the covers up to her neck. The sheets felt cool against her hot body.
For some time she could not get to sleep. Tossing restlessly, she relived her frustrating evening. Why had she pushed Richard away so firmly? She remembered his gray eyes darkened by passion, the feel of his hard body against hers. Eventually she drifted off into fitful slumber.
Much later, she was awakened by Richard flicking off the light next door. Reading the luminous dial of her little wristwatch, she could see that it was after three o'clock.
Chapter Five
Tanya woke in the morning feeling as if she were suffering a hangover. She showered, hoping it would revive her, but still felt the dull pounding around her temples. She dressed in brown slacks and a cream shirt, tying her hair back with a printed silk scarf.
Richard was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper. He looked up and smiled at her. "Hi, did you have a good sleep?"
"Fine," she lied, then blushed. Sometimes she had the feeling that he could see right through her.
"Ready for breakfast?" he said.
The thought of food was nauseating but she nodded in agreement and they went downstairs. She managed a glass of orange juice, a slice of toast and a cup of black coffee and felt better. What a wedding night, she thought. This morning should have been one of the happiest times of their liv
es. Did Richard care? She stole a glance at him, Apparently not. He was enjoying his breakfast and talked to her cheerily.
They drove into Toronto. Richard went to the doctor, leaving her to wander through the shops on Yonge Street.