WIFE BY AGREEMENT

by Lauren Repeta

  'Ethan?' Hannah said blankly. There appeared to be some sort of conspiracy which prevented her hearing his name. Not that her memory needed jogging—-he was constantly in her troubled thoughts. She still hadn't come to terms with his astonishing announcement.

  'You're probably cursing me—apparently he's been giving them a hell of a lot of freebie legal advice at the moment, with the big legal wrangle. It's a test case, so it means a lot.' A frown gathered on her face as she looked at Hannah. 'You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?' She looked astonished and a little em­barrassed. 'I just assumed that you'd know... I didn't mean to speak out of turn,' she said uncomfortably.

  'Ethan's involved with this charity, professionally?'

  'He did some research about them when he was look­ing for somewhere for me to go, and he must have liked what he found out. He's been giving them free legal advice since, and that's not something to sneeze at. Have you any idea how much a top barrister like him costs? Are you all right, Hannah?' she asked anxiously.

  'I'm stupid.'

  "The way I remember it, you were always the bright one at school—the teachers all wanted you to go to col­lege.' The smile died from her lips as she saw the dis­tress on Hannah's face. She planted her elbows squarely on the table and regarded her friend with frowning con­cern. 'Can I do anything? Do you want to talk about it?'

  Hannah's distracted glance was darting and Helen gained the impression that she wasn't actually hearing what she was saying.

  'I've been so terrible to him.'

  'To who? Ethan?'

  'It's probably too late.' Hannah pressed her hand to her quivering lips. What have I done? I love him and I hurt him. I rejected what he was offering. I threw it back in his face. The strong clasp of Helen's hand concen­trated her scattered thoughts.

  'You could always say you're sorry,' Helen suggested softly.

  A tentative smile curved Hannah's lips and a deter­mined light entered her eyes. 'I could, couldn't I?' she said, her mouth setting in a firm line. Sorry wasn't enough, but it was all she had. 'Thank you, thank you so much, Helen.' She pulled a note from her purse and, without even looking at the denomination, flung it on the table. She left the startled young woman staring after her in astonishment.

  All she had to do was convince him that she hadn't meant the things she'd said. All! Ethan had been an in­nocent scapegoat for her grief and anger. Since the ac­cident she'd felt as if they'd been slipping further and further apart. The distance that had already developed beforehand had expanded in the emotional, hothouse atmosphere of the accident's aftermath until all she could see was a stranger. Not the man who'd fathered her child, the man she loved.

  It was as if seeing Ethan from Helen's perspective had reminded her of all the things that had been right be­tween them. She'd spent so long morbidly examining the negative aspects that she'd forgotten what a warm, strong, loving man he was. Ethan wasn't perfect but he came as a package, good points and bad. I'm no bargain myself, she thought wryly.

  Did he really say he loved me? she wondered. A sense of wondering disbelief made her almost fall beneath the wheels of a bus. She smilingly brushed away the concern of a passer-by and took several deep breaths. That had been close! Once might be careless, but twice! She'd better be more careful. It would be the ultimate in bad timing to get killed before she'd told him she loved him—especially considering how long she'd been sitting on this particular piece of information.

  She'd been walking for ten minutes before it occurred to her that she was on the opposite side of the city to Ethan's chambers. She flagged down a taxi and gave him the address.

  'Can I help you?' she was asked on her arrival.

  Hannah wasn't in the mood to be intimidated by a superior attitude.

  'Yes.'

  'Do you have an appointment?' The guardian of the inner sanctum fingered the leather-bound appointment book as if it were sacred.

  'No.'

  Tm afraid—'

  Td like to see my husband.'

  'Who exactly is your husband, madam?'

  'Ethan Kemp.'

  The shift from patronising to deferential was achieved in the space of a single breath. 'I'm afraid Mr Kemp doesn't want to be disturbed today. No exceptions. He refused to see—'

  'He'll want to see me.' Hannah picked up the internal phone and held it out. 'Tell him I'm here.' Sometimes pushy worked where nothing else would.

  Will he? she wondered. Will he want to see me? She maintained her confident stance with great difficulty whilst she strained to catch one side of a low-toned con­versation. What will I do if he won't see me?

  She wasn't left in suspense for long; the conversation was brief.

  'I'll show you the way.'

  Hannah wasn't sure why she was feeling relieved— the hard part was yet to come.

  Rich oak panelling, one wall covered with books from floor to ceiling, the affluent antiquity of the furnishings sat cheek by jowl with a top-of-the-range computer and fax which was spilling its information unheeded onto the floor as the door closed behind her. The soft sound made her jump.

  'I didn't know you were planning a visit.'

  'Neither did I,' she confessed.

  Ethan was sitting on the edge of the enormous antique desk. He twirled a pen between his fingers and she found the controlled mechanical movement distracting.

  'Is there a problem at home?'

  'No, not now.' Her reply quelled the brief flare of concern in his eyes. They didn't give anything away now as she screwed up her courage and her nose and thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket

  'You must be wondering why I'm here.'

  Her colour was fluctuating from one extreme of the spectrum to the other, and her ringers were spasmodi­cally clenching and unclenching. 'If you don't tell me soon I'd say there's a strong possibility you'll explode,' he observed quietly.

  The breath she'd hoarded up escaped her lungs in one audible gasp. 'I came to say sorry and I love you!' She couldn't look at him, but she had to—one eye closed, but the other remaining fixed with anticipation on his face.

  Ethan didn't move, but the expensive pen slipped from his fingers. 'You're sorry that you love me?'

  "The sorry was for being cruel and mean and despi­cable to you.* The mingled bronze and green in her eyes misted over emotionally as she opened her eyes earnestly wide in an effort to convince him of her sincerity.

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. She saw his chest lift as a deep sigh vibrated through his big body. When he lifted Ms head again some of the tension seemed to have dissolved.

  'Family are there so you can be despicable when you're in pain.'

  'Am I your family, Ethan?' she whispered huskily, hardly daring to believe what his warm, firm voice was telling her.

  'Do you want me to be?'

  'I want you to be my heart and soul and...' she began, her voice throbbing passionately. She gave up. Some things words just couldn't express, and, with a sob, she walked into his arms, which opened wide and closed firmly around her. I’m so, so sorry...' she murmured as he stroked her hair. 'I've always loved you. I never stopped, even when I was hurting you. I could feel your pain as well as my own, but I couldn't stop all those awful things coming out of my mouth.'

  'I've said my share of awful things,' he said, pressing his mouth against the glossy top of her head. 'It's like conkers,' he mused, breathing in the fragrance of the slippery, clean tresses. 'I should have been able to stop your pain and I couldn't. He took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. 'I did an unkind, selfish thing when I married you, Hannah. It's probably the thing I'm most ashamed of in my life, but, my God, I can't regret it because it's led me here to you.'

  His warm lips were strong and tender as they pressed firmly against her own. 'I can't tell you the exact instant I knew I loved you, or the first time I knew how bleak my life would be without you in it. I've lived through an earthquake, but it was nothing compared with the im
pact of realising I loved you. I've been sitting here...' He gestured towards the leather swivel chair and then shook his head. 'Actually I couldn't sit still. I've been pacing back and forth, trying to compose a winning ar­gument that would convince you to give me a chance. I couldn't do it!' he confessed. 'All I could see was the pain and reproach in your eyes and I knew I was re­sponsible for putting it there.'

  Hannah pressed her hands to either side of his head. 'Don't say that!' she said urgently. She couldn't bear to see the dark shadow slip back into his eyes.

  She'd been blind to the toll the past days had taken on him up until now, but seeing the dark circles around his eyes, and the deep scoring of the lines between his mouth and nose, made her appreciate that she hadn't been hurting alone. Normally he was the epitome of the sleek, sophisticated professional, but today the designer suit was creased, and a cut which looked suspiciously like a razor cut marred the olive clarity of his cheek.

  It was an accident, Ethan. I shouldn't have blamed you. I know that now. I wanted your baby so badly, but I thought you would be angry after the way you regretted making love to me in the first place.'

  With a groan Ethan gathered her close; she could feel the thud of his heartbeat. 'I never regretted making love to you—how could I?' he asked hoarsely. 'I thought you regretted it—after all, I did coax, cajole and bully you into my bed. I was mad to believe Alexa and I was blind not to see how jealous her grief over Catherine had made her.' Ethan felt her body stiffen defensively. He stepped back and held her at arm's length.

  'It might make you understand better if I tell you a few things about Catherine and myself. No,' he said gently, placing a finger over her lips to stifle her instinc­tive objections, 'I think you should know. Catherine was beautiful and talented, and at first our marriage was ex­actly what it appeared. The cracks started appearing when she was pregnant with Emma—she accused me of rushing her into things before she was ready. Her busi­ness was flourishing and so was her riding. We got a nanny as soon as Emma was born and things calmed down, but they were never the way they had been. You see, Catherine never really wanted a family, and she re­sented the fact that I did. Then she discovered she was pregnant with Tom. It wasn't planned and I found out by accident. She'd already booked herself into a clinic,' he recalled, taking a deep, painful breath.

  'An abortion?' Hannah tried to compose her features to disguise her shock. Knowing how Ethan felt about his children, she could imagine how devastating that dis­covery must have been.

  Ethan nodded, his eyes desolate as he relived the memory. 'She accused me of engineering the pregnancy deliberately, which, considering she was taking the pill, was an impossibility. I begged her to reconsider, give herself time to think about the consequences of what she was doing. Whatever else it might have been, it wasn't going to be the quick-fix solution she wanted. I knew Catherine, and I honestly didn't think she could have lived with the guilt. She only got as far as the clinic door; she never went inside. Maybe what I said swung it, or maybe she would never have gone through with it anyway.'

  'And after Tom was born?'

  'She didn't even hold him. She refused to accept pro­fessional counselling, and we continued to present the facade of one big happy family!' The bitterness in his voice made Hannah long to comfort him, but she knew he hadn't finished yet, and she instinctively knew he needed to expose what he saw as his shortcomings.

  'If Catherine had married someone else she'd proba­bly still be alive now. Someone who hadn't coaxed away her doubts about starting a family. When she kept put­ting it off I said there was never a perfect time to start.'

  It felt strange, feeling pity for someone she'd envied for so long, but Hannah did. 'Lots of women fit families into successful careers, Ethan.'

  'Because they want to. I convinced myself that deep down she wanted all the things that I did, but she didn't. With Emma, I think it was just a matter of getting it over with as far as she was concerned. Oh, she loved her, but she was never demonstrative. I suppose I re­sented all the times Emma got pushed into the back- ground. That's why I overreacted when I thought you'd forgotten about Emma—Catherine forgot about Emma all the time.' The bleak way he said it brought tears to Hannah's eyes. 'I tried to compensate, and then Catherine would accuse me of spoiling the child. It was an impossible situation.'

  1 think it's likely Catherine was conforming with so­ciety's expectations rather than yours when she decided to have a child, Ethan. Women are expected to want children.'

  'Are you trying to make me feel better about myself, my love?'

  'Am I your love, Ethan?' she asked softly, winding her arms about his neck.

  'Do you still want me? I'm a bit of a flawed hero, and you haven't heard the worst yet.'

  'You can't get rid of me so easily.' She'd banish the torment from his voice and heart if it took her for ever. She and Ethan had for ever now; the knowledge made her heart soar. 'You'll never get rid of me.' Her body vibrated with the deep sincerity of her words. He could save the worst for later—right now the priority was to show him exactly how much she loved him.

  'You have no idea how much I've missed holding you, touching you,' he breathed as his lips slid down the side of her neck.

  'When I agreed to marry you I never thought you'd love me. I thought I could be satisfied with just being close.'

  'And were you?'

  'Not once you'd kissed me. Could you kiss me again, Ethan?' she whispered.

  'Whilst he willingly obliged, Hannah's fingers were busy flicking open the buttons on his shirt. 'What are you doing?' he gasped throatily when her busy fingers didn't stop there.

  Hannah gave a voluptuous sigh and buried her face in the soft hair that was sprinkled over his chest. I’ve not worked out the details yet,' she admitted frankly as she pushed his shirt firmly out of the way, 'but it sort of goes like this...'

  Ethan watched through half-closed eyes as she slid to her knees. A harsh, guttural groan was wrenched from the depths of his chest as her mouth touched him.

  'Hannah!'

  'I thought I'd work out the details as I go along.' It was a liberating feeling, being shameless.

  His fingers brushed the top of her glossy head before tangling deep into the soft waves as she became more engrossed in her self-appointed task to drive him insane. 'What are you trying to do to me?'

  Her head fell back against his circling hands and she gazed up at him with hot-eyed, sultry provocation. I’d have thought that was obvious,' she challenged huskily.

  His thumbs were locked at the back of her head. She turned to one side and took one of his fingers inside her mourn, suckling slowly and luxuriously. She felt the muscles in his thighs bunch and tighten as if the rela­tively innocent action was just as stimulating as the in­timacy of seconds before.

  'Don't!' she protested weakly as he drew her to her feet. Her legs could hardly bear her weight. Under the light covering of sweat, her body burnt. The burning continued inside too, in the aching hunger that writhed deep in her belly. 'I thought you liked...' Her voice trailed off under the impact of his molten gaze. The pu­pils had expanded to obliterate almost all of the light grey of his eyes. The driving, almost mindless need she saw there killed off any sudden nagging doubts she'd begun to nourish about offending him. 'Why?'

  'I don't want to be the only one who is satisfied.' He'd been tempted by her obvious willingness to set aside her own needs; what man wouldn't have been? 'I want to feel your pleasure too.' He ran a hand that wasn't quite steady down the curve of her cheek. His fingers trailed across her chin before touching the pink outline of her lips. His chest expanded rapidly as her tongue darted out and the sound that emerged from his throat was one of pain.

  Hannah could empathise—the pleasure did bring pain, the wrenching pain of anticipation and need. 'It was pleasure,' she assured him throatily. 'You're pleasure, touching you., .tasting you. I didn't know just seeing you aroused and knowing I can make you...' She shook her head, still stunned by the
discovery that to give pleasure could be just as erotic as receiving it. 'I've fantasised about...' Bands of hot colour flared across her cheek­bones but she didn't remove her luminous eyes from his. 'I didn't know it would feel like—that I would feel like that.' A voluptuous shiver ran through her body and, despite the heat she was generating, goosebumps broke out over the slick surface of her skin.

  'Dear God, Hannah!' His mouth devoured the ripe fullness of her soft lips. The raw hunger in him nearly suffocated her with pleasure as his tongue drove with frenzied fervour into the warm moistness of her mouth, and his teeth nipped and bit at the swollen outline of her parted lips. 'Shall I tell you what I've fantasised about?' She wouldn't like it—it might make her hate him—but he had to unburden his guilt.

  Hannah's reply was lost in Ethan's hot mouth as he lifted her up and carried her over to the leather chaise longue. The material of her sweater peeled away under the rough eagerness of his hands. Very deliberately he untied the three ribbons that held the thin camisole she wore beneath. There was a taut stillness in him as he looked down at the pale outline of her slender body.