The Purest of Diamonds?

by Susan Stephens

  ‘You haven’t lost Tyr, and you haven’t lost me, Leila. I could never reach you when I rang, and I tried I don’t know how many times.’

  She thought about this for a moment. ‘Eva must have told Reception not to put you through. It’s the type of thing she does when she’s trying to protect me and doesn’t realise she’s only making things worse. But you’re right. I should have tried harder— I should have found some way to tell you—’

  ‘No. I’m just as much to blame,’ he agreed. ‘Now, show me what you’ve got behind your back.’

  She handed him an envelope.

  ‘What’s this?’ His guts twisted as he remembered the last time he’d read a letter from Leila.

  ‘I started to write to you, then realised that was about as pointless as putting a letter up the chimney for Santa. And if I sent it to the office, I didn’t want it lying forgotten on your desk. It’s too important for that. Why don’t you open it, Raffa? Please...’

  Opening the envelope, he pulled out a small black-and-white photograph. He stared at it in silence. It was an image from the latest scan. Twins. Two little people...one blowing bubbles, while the other sucked his or her thumb.

  ‘Our babies, Raffa,’ Leila said gently. ‘Your children...and mine.’

  Wave after wave of emotion crashed over him. Feelings he’d bottled up for years ran riot inside him. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he had never cried. He could never have predicted that seeing his children would affect him like this.

  ‘Raffa...’

  He couldn’t speak yet. He couldn’t think coherently. All he wanted to do was to stare at the image on the tiny piece of paper.

  ‘Please don’t disappear again, Raffa. I was so frightened for you.’

  Still holding the scan, he turned slowly to look at Leila. He doubted he could ever bear to be parted from this small piece of evidence, let alone give it back to her.

  ‘Raffa?’ she said again.

  Shaking himself round, he went to kneel at her feet, and, taking her hands in his, he held them tightly. ‘Leila... Look at me. I’m so sorry. I should never have left you. I should never have listened to you and your ridiculous notion that you needed space, or to my own stubborn belief that who I am is cast in stone. We’re both far too stubborn, you and I.’

  A small smile crept onto her face. ‘How could I have contacted you if I needed you? Never do that to me again, Raffa. We’re not alone any more. We have these two to think about.’

  As she spoke Leila stroked her hand over the curve of her belly, and as his grip tightened on the scan he knew his life had changed for ever. And for the better by far.

  She laughed softly. ‘It would probably be more convenient for everyone if I were still Leila the peacemaker, the sister who goes along with what everyone else wants for the sake of a quiet life—’

  ‘Strange. I’ve never seen you like that, Leila—’

  She huffed with amusement. ‘Whether you have or not, I can’t be like that ever again, because I’m going to be a mother and I’ve got these two to think about.’ Her face lit up. ‘Two babies at one time! Who’d have thought it?’

  ‘I would. And you’ve never been the mouse you think you are. Your sisters always turn to you for advice—can’t you see that? They trust you to be cool and calm when you consider a problem.’

  ‘Like now?’ she said dryly.

  ‘There’s a difference between keeping your voice down, and being quiet and retiring, and the fact you don’t shout the odds as loudly as your sisters doesn’t mean you can’t be heard. In fact, yours is the voice we all remember.’

  Wrapping his arms around her, he drew Leila close so he could rest his face against her belly. His heart filled with love the moment he felt movement beneath him. It made him laugh; it made him smile. It was a miracle and he was part of it. Even more of a miracle was the fact that the babies and Leila had allowed him to feel after so many years of denying that pleasure. Thanks to them he could let loose his emotions and experience every life-changing moment to the full from now on. Reaching up, he drew Leila into his arms and kissed her, but what began as a tender expression of his love for Leila, and for their children, soon grew in passion. ‘I’ll never leave you again,’ he pledged fiercely.

  ‘Even if I want you to?’ she challenged with a smile against his mouth.

  ‘Even then.’

  ‘Except for when you have to be away on business,’ she guessed.

  ‘I’ve only got a couple of appointments before Christmas and then I’m going to devote myself to you and the babies.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Give me your shopping list,’ Raffa murmured.

  ‘Most of what I want can be found right here,’ she whispered. ‘But if you’re serious...’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  She could taste her tears on Raffa’s mouth, but she could see her happiness reflected in his eyes. Like him, she had smothered her emotions, fearing them, but they had freed each other and she felt a settling and a peace inside her that she had never known before.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like this,’ Raffa said as she sniffed and laughed.

  ‘You’ve never seen me this pregnant before.’

  Raffa’s sexy mouth slanted in a smile that warmed her through. ‘I must admit two babies does account for some extra hormonal activity.’

  Leila was just content to relish the strength of his arms and the sense of being safe.

  ‘It’s so good to be home finally, Leila.’

  ‘And so surprising to want both the man and the baby,’ she teased Raffa gently as he rested his brow against hers.

  ‘Babies,’ he reminded her wryly. ‘What?’ he queried lazily, brushing her lips with his.

  ‘I thought we were going to have something to eat?’

  ‘We are,’ he confirmed. ‘But not yet.’

  ‘How am I supposed to resist you?’

  ‘You’re not.’

  She held him off for a moment with both hands flat against his chest. ‘Seriously. How can it ever work between us, Raffa, when we’re worlds apart?’

  ‘We’re worlds colliding,’ he argued, still teasing her lips with his.

  ‘Why won’t you admit I’m right?’

  ‘Because I’m always right.’

  She gave a small growl of warning to this, which made him smile. Leila was a passionate mother-to-be, high on hormones, which made her more beautiful than ever to him. She was like a lioness that, having tested her boundaries, had found them infinite, and had made the leap to freedom from a self-imposed cage. Quiet Leila had been temptation enough for him, but this new, bold version of the same woman was more than enough for him.

  ‘You’ll be a wonderful mother, Leila, but right now that’s not uppermost in my mind.’

  ‘How can you want me when I’m heavily pregnant, wearing my brother’s cast-off work shirt?’

  Her mention of Tyr threw him for a moment, and he longed to put her mind at rest, but a pledge was a pledge, and his honour was non-negotiable too.

  ‘On you it could only be high fashion,’ he teased, drawing a veil over the confidence he had sworn to keep for Tyr.

  His body ached for Leila, and when he kissed her he felt a tremor of need run through her. Drawing back, he tested his theory. ‘Still mad for sex?’

  ‘What sort of question is that, Raffa? Of course I am.’

  Losing no more time, he swung Leila into his arms. ‘Your bedroom?’

  ‘Under the eaves.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  It was perfect. Leila’s bedroom was a warm, safe nest. If only he’d been able to think of her here while he’d been away, he wouldn’t have worried about her half as much. No wonder she had wanted to come home to Skavanga. With the snow tumbling down outside the big windows
that framed the lake, the mountains and the heavily snow-laden trees, it was paradise outside, and paradise inside. This was one haven he would never want to leave.

  ‘Watch out! The room’s too small for you,’ she exclaimed as he ducked his head to avoid a beam.

  ‘The room’s perfect for me, Leila,’ he said as he lowered her carefully onto the bed, kicked off his boots and lay down beside her.

  ‘Mind reading’s never been one of my many skills, but I do have others,’ she said, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

  ‘I remember them well,’ he said as he started to undress her.

  ‘Why are you smiling as you kiss me, Raffa?’

  ‘You taste so good.’

  ‘Anxiety and pregnancy taste good to you?’

  ‘What are you anxious about, Leila?’

  ‘That I can still do this—I mean, with this mega-sized bump.’

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ he promised, kissing his way from her neck to her breasts. ‘I was right—no anxiety here,’ he confirmed, circling her nipples with his tongue before tugging on them gently.

  ‘They’re bigger.’

  ‘They’re lush and full and beautiful. Every part of you—’

  ‘Is pregnant,’ she said.

  ‘Like I haven’t noticed?’ he murmured contentedly, kissing his way down to her belly.

  ‘Will you stop that? I’m ugly—’

  ‘A pregnant woman could never be called ugly. And you are particularly beautiful,’ he insisted, nudging his way between her thighs.

  ‘You can’t—’

  ‘I think you’ll find I can...’

  ‘Oh, yes... Oh, Raffa... Please—’

  ‘Don’t stop?’ he queried with amusement, lifting his head. ‘I’ve got no intention of stopping. You taste too good to stop—’

  ‘Oh... I— Now! I can’t hold on,’ she wailed, lacing her fingers through his hair to keep him close.

  ‘Let it go, baby— Just let it go—’ He held her firmly. His tongue did the rest.

  ‘That was amazing,’ she managed, still convulsing as he kept her going with his hand.

  ‘More?’ he suggested.

  ‘A lot more...’

  ‘You’ve been missing this, I think,’ he murmured, turning her so that now Leila had her back to him.

  ‘So much—’

  He laughed as he curled his body round her. ‘Hang on,’ he whispered, lifting her leg over his.

  ‘How long do I have to hold on?’ She gasped as he found her with his hand. ‘I’m not sure I can—’

  ‘Any time you like—’

  She screamed her next release before he had even finished the sentence. He was gentle as he entered her—so gentle. It was good for him this way—like all the best sensations in the world woven together. Leila had curled up to allow him the best possible access and she was so ready for him—so warm, so tight, so wet. ‘Tell me if I’m hurting you.’

  ‘I’ll tell you if you stop,’ she growled.

  He laughed softly, while Leila gasped out loud. He rocked into her gently, at the same time sheathing himself completely, maintaining the same steady rhythm with his hand while she thrust backwards onto him, dictating both the pace and force he was using. It wasn’t long before she was on the edge again. He could feel the sudden tensing in her body—the awareness shimmering through her—the realisation that pleasure was on its way.

  ‘Enjoy, baby,’ he murmured. The slightest adjustment to the pressure and speed at which his finger was working was all it took to make it impossible for her to hold on, and as she let go with a series of wild cries of relief he increased the force and pace of his thrusts to prolong her pleasure for as long as he could.

  They slept wrapped in each other’s arms. Their discussion did not continue, as Leila had insisted it must do, straight after lovemaking—not that night, nor the next morning, or the next.

  They lived the dream—the dream for both of them. Closeness without complications—without thought for the future. They were pushing difficult decisions aside, like where to live, and how to combine their two very different lives. They were together and that was all that mattered. They were getting to know each other better too. They were growing closer because of the sex, whereas in the past, sex had been an end in itself.

  They padded around barefoot—sometimes even naked. Leila would cook something on the stove while he stood behind her with his hands loosely linked around her belly. Her calm essence healed him, while the food she cooked fuelled their lust. They took meals to bed—left others forgotten to grow cold as they feasted on each other.

  He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever been so happy, or so relaxed. And he couldn’t bear to let this go. He couldn’t envisage a time without Leila. He wasn’t prepared to contemplate a future without her. But this timeless idyll had to end. They both knew it. He still had business commitments to fit in before everything closed down for Christmas, while Leila had insisted on working until the very last minute, and so, with less than a week to go before Christmas Day, he dropped her off at the mining museum on his way to the airport.

  ‘We’ll talk when I get back from New York. There’s plenty of time,’ he said confidently. ‘The babies aren’t due yet, so—’

  ‘Plenty of time,’ Leila confirmed, standing on tiptoe to kiss him goodbye.

  If this past week of indulging themselves had achieved anything, it was to establish a new level of trust between them. They could do this. They were both strong individuals who could handle a long-distance relationship, and they would make sure their children didn’t suffer because of it.

  At least that was how he felt until he woke up one morning in an anonymous hotel somewhere in the world to find it was snowing, which reminded him of Skavanga. He could have been anywhere in the world. A luxury hotel was a luxury hotel and when he was away from Leila everywhere looked the same to him. He found himself longing for a small wood cabin on the shores of a lake, and a woman who for him had no equal. His meetings were over and all he could think about was Leila facing the run-up to their twins’ birth on her own. It didn’t have to be this way—for either of them.

  He’d never had so much fun shopping. He’d never had fun shopping. It wasn’t the type of thing he did, but today was different, and wherever he went his happiness was infectious. He had discounts pushed on him, encouraging him to buy ten times more than he had intended. He got back to the hotel, filed a flight plan for Skavanga and was airborne by late afternoon. He rented a Jeep at the airport and drove out to the cabin. He hadn’t called Leila. He hadn’t warned her he was coming back. The feelings inside him didn’t allow for half measures. This was either the biggest surprise she’d ever had or it was a dud.

  She heard the engine and was hanging out of an upstairs window when he arrived. ‘Raffa?’ She sounded ecstatic. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Visiting a friend,’ he called up, holding his feelings of elation on the shortest rein. ‘I hope that friend hasn’t been up a stepladder, decorating?’ He tried and failed to adopt a stern tone. He was just so excited to see her—to hold her—to kiss her again.

  ‘Your friend’s been getting the nursery ready. What do you think?’ She glanced over her shoulder, where he could see a set of ladders with tins of paint jostling for position on the top step.

  ‘I think I’ll have to paddle her backside, if that’s what my friend’s been up to—’

  ‘Excellent,’ she called down. ‘Can’t wait. The door’s open—let yourself in.’

  ‘You don’t even lock the door round here?’

  ‘I don’t have too many barbarians calling—you’re the first.’

  She flew into his arms before he even had chance to step inside the house. ‘Did you run down those stairs?’ he demanded sternly, holding Leila at arm’s length
so he could stare into her eyes.

  ‘No, I waddled down them—’

  He didn’t care how she got down the stairs, just that she had got down them safely and was in his arms again. Dragging her close, he kissed her. If this was what it felt like to come home, he was coming home every day from now on.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she exclaimed, searching his eyes as she gripped him as if her life depended on it.

  ‘I’ve only been away a few days—’

  ‘Too long,’ she interrupted him fiercely, resting her cheek against his heavy jacket.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, wrapping her inside the jacket. ‘Let’s go inside before you catch cold. It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘You think?’ she demanded cheekily, staring up at him. ‘I’m really hot.’

  ‘So you are.’ He acted surprised, and then dragged her close as he ushered the woman he loved into the house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘NO. YOU DON’T do anything, Leila. This is a time for you to rest, so I do it all,’ he insisted, having stripped down to his top and jeans after bringing all his booty into the open-plan living room.

  ‘You do it all?’ Leila demanded cheekily as he rifled through the bags. ‘Haven’t we been here before?’

  ‘But never at the cooker—’

  She laughed. ‘Can you cook?’ she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

  ‘I can,’ he said as he slammed a cookery book written by a hot chef on the scrubbed pine table. ‘All I have to be able to do is read and keep a handle on the time.’

  ‘Multitasking?’ She looked dubious.

  ‘I’m not your typical man—remember?’

  She laughed. ‘So you’re definitely promising something more than tins and fries?’

  ‘No tins. No fries,’ he confirmed. ‘Just really great organic food direct from the market for the mother-to-be—’