by J. KRAMER
“You’ll always stay with me?”
“Of course. Honey, I don’t think your past is anything to be afraid of from what Lucien told us. You have loving parents, a brother, and finally you’ll know everything there is to know about your life prior to your abduction. Don’t be afraid. I’m here for you. I always will be.”
Her naked body blended with his. He felt the baby kick against his abdomen and smiled wondering how a woman could sleep at all with such an active infant inside her body. Becky fell asleep in his arms, his name still on her lips. He cradled her buttocks with his hand and said softly, “My love, destiny has a way of catching up to us. Maybe it wasn’t your destiny after all to marry me. Perhaps destiny has finally found you.” Though he knew the words to be true, they slashed at his heart. The pain grew so fierce that he could hardly stand it. “Becky…” he said hoarsely, “Becky, my love—I love you…” But she didn’t answer him. Silently he fought the fears, the insecurities and the thoughts of losing her while holding her tightly in his arms as if this were the last night they’d be together.
***
Becky woke up. She could hardly believe she’d slept so soundly all night. Usually the baby’s kicking woke her up, but not this time. Charles’ arms were still around her. Carefully she lifted his arm off her body and slid to the side of the bed. They’d slept much later than usual, the clock told her. “Charles, honey, don’t you have a meeting this morning? It’s half past ten,” she said and reached out to shake him gently.
When he didn’t stir, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Charles—Charles, wake up.” The weight of her body against him caused Charles to roll onto his back. His eyes remained closed. “Charles?” “Honey?” Becky shook him once more then realized there was something wrong. Frantic now, she screamed, “Charles, wake up! Charles!” She shook him harder, with no results. “Oh my God. Noooo,” she screamed while her ear descended to his chest. She heard nothing. The loud familiar heartbeat was gone. Her heart hammered, her head ached. “Charles—oh no,” she whispered while great sobs shook her body.
“Maria! Maria!”
Maria came running into the room. “What’s wrong? The baby?” she asked, panting from the exertion of running.
“It’s Charles. He won’t wake up and I can’t—I—I can’t hear his heart,” sobbed Becky.
Maria muttered angrily while she hastened to the phone. “Stupid old fool. Had to make believe he was a young man again and now he’s paying for it.”
Within minutes the ambulance arrived. Becky stood against the wall hugging her robe around her body watching anxiously as the paramedics tried to revive Charles.
“He’s gone,” said one of the paramedics.
The words seemed to come from far away. “He’s not gone. He can’t be! You have to do something,” she shouted while covering her ears not wanting to hear their negative reply.
Slowly, Becky sank to the floor. “Charles is gone?” she asked sounding like a pitiful child. “He’s left me all alone?”
Maria rushed to her side and put her arms around Becky. “Hush, child, don’t cry so. It’s not good for your baby. Let me take you to your room,” she said as she tried to help Becky up.
“No. I have to go with Charles. I can’t let him go to the hospital by himself,” said Becky and she scrambled up and tried to follow the paramedics out the door. A sheet covered Charles’ face. “Dead?” she asked softly. “He’s really gone?” The next moment everything went black before her eyes and she fell to the floor.
The paramedics tried to bring Becky out of her faint but couldn’t. After pulling back her eyelids and checking her pupils, one of them said, “She’s in shock. We’d better take her to the hospital too. We’ll back for her in a moment, Ma’am. Can you accompany her to the hospital? Perhaps she has family you can contact? She’ll need support when she comes out of it.”
“Family? They’re far away. They’ll be here in a few days,” said Maria nervously wringing her hands. “I’ll go with her.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Voices.
They were all around her. Her father’s voice, her mother’s screams, Lucien’s voice. Faces drifted through her troubled dreams. She reached out to them, tried to run toward them but they faded into the distance, their shapes obscured by a heavy fog.
“Lucien! Mom! Dad!” she screamed and waking at the sound of her own screams opened her eyes. Dazed she looked around her. An IV dripped fluid steadily into her veins. A monitor next to the bed beeped softly, its beeps fast, matching the rhythm of her heart.
The door opened and a nurse entered the room. “What happened to me?” asked Becky. “Why am I in the hospital?”
“Well, I see the patient is awake,” said the nurse while checking the IV. “I’ll call the doctor.”
Becky tried to sit up but fell back onto the pillow as a wave of dizziness attacked her. Closing her eyes to fight off the spinning sensation, she was suddenly aware of a sharp kick inside her belly. “The baby,” she said softly to herself. “Oh my God, Charles—Charles had a heart attack. He’s gone and I’m all alone again.” Tears escaped from under her closed lids. The dizzy attack was over. She turned onto her side and curled up into a fetal position sobbing softly for the man who had rescued her and was kindness personified.
“Good morning, Becky.”
Becky opened her tear-laden eyes and through their film looked up at the doctor. “Charles—he’s really gone?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry. He was a good man.”
“He was,” said Becky softly while wiping her eyes. “Now I’m all alone again.”
“But you’re not. There’s a young man waiting anxiously to see you. Would you like me to get him?”
“Young man? Gavin? No way in hell I want to see that man.”
“No, I believe his name is Lucien Moore.”
Becky fought to clear her mind of the grief that now overwhelmed her thoughts. “Moore? Lucien?” Suddenly, she struggled to sit and looked up at the doctor wonderingly. “Lucien, oh my God. I remember. I know everything now. Yes! Oh, yes, I want to see him!”
“So the trauma of Charles’ death has restored your memory. That’s good,” smiled the doctor. “I’ll go and tell Mr. Moore you’re ready to see him. I’ll raise the bed a little. You still need to rest after the shock you experienced. Please lie down.”
Now that she remembered, her mind was flooded with so many memories and information that it caused her head to throb as if a sledgehammer pounded it without mercy. One thought repeatedly overshadowing all else, causing a wave of gladness to wash through her, the baby isn’t Gavin’s…
“I’ll be back later to check on you and the baby,” said the doctor and left the room.
A few moments later the door opened and Lucien walked in, his face a mask of concern. Becky looked at the face she loved more than life itself, his worried brown eyes, the familiar long hair now tied back into a ponytail and she felt her heart run over with love. Lucien had not given up on her, he’d searched and his love had led him to her. His eyes were filled with worry and questions as he slowly approached the bed. Becky held her arms out. Her heart’s strings tugged, the internal harp singing its song, and her grief was overshadowed by joy. “Lucien—my love…” she whispered softly and watched hope flare up in his eyes.
“Becky? You remember?”
“Oh, yes—hold me, Lucien?”
Lucien took one big last step toward the bed and gathered her into his arms holding her as if she were made of porcelain. He couldn’t speak because his throat felt as if it had a rock stuck in it. He swallowed hard as a sob tore from deep within his soul, and another—they were sobs of utter relief. His Becky was back.
It was as if the sea air still clung to his hair, the scent of the island, of their love. Becky cried softly against his chest, wanting him, needing him more than ever now. “Take me home, Lucien? Please?” she whispered.
He could barely speak, his heart overflowed with emotion, h
is throat as if it had a rock stuck in it. “Soon, baby, soon,” he whispered hoarsely.
They held each other for a long time, without speaking, words being unnecessary, until the doctor interrupted their moment of tranquility.
Doctor Turner cleared his throat. “If you wouldn’t mind leaving the room for a few minutes, Mr. Moore, I’d like to examine the patient now.”
Reluctantly, Lucien released Becky. She clung to him. Gently, he lowered her to the pillows. “I’ll wait outside,” he said, his throat still aching.
“Lucien?” said Becky, her voice tremulous.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, honey. Let the doctor do his job.” He kissed her on the forehead and left the room.
Becky waited impatiently while Doctor Turner examined her. Finally, he pulled the sheet over her belly. “The baby? Is he okay?” she asked.
“He’s fine. You’ve had quite a shock, young lady. What you need now is lots of rest. I’ll sign the release papers but I want you to promise me that you’ll take it easy.”
“Charles…”
“Yes. I’m so sorry but Charles had a bad heart. He didn’t tell you?”
“No. He seemed healthy enough.”
“Charles was a very proud man. He refused to accept his condition. Bypass surgery could have saved him but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“If only I’d have known,” said Becky, but then realizing that Charles’ passing had set her free. If Charles had lived, what would she have done? Divorced that kind, gentle, man? “Doctor, my memory has come back fully. I know everything about my past.”
“Now that’s great news. It’s sad you had to regain your memory through such a terrible loss. I presume the young man was part of your life before you met Charles?”
“Yes, he was and will be again. Charles told me that destiny would inevitably make its path clear. Destiny is strange, isn’t it, Doctor?”
“So it is. I’ll go and tell your friend that you can go home. Would you like a nurse to help you dress?”
Becky smiled. “No, thank you. I can manage.”
After Becky had dressed, she waited impatiently for Lucien to come back. When he finally knocked on the door, she frowned. Why would Lucien knock? “Come in,” she called out.
When Lucien walked into the room she ran to him. His arms felt safe around her body, she felt home.
“I guess you’ll need to go back to Charles’ house,” said Lucien wistfully. “You need to take care of funeral arrangements.”
“Yes,” she whispered. For the moment his statement clouded her happiness. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course. Your parents and Paul are on their way. They’ll arrive in San Francisco late tonight.”
“Lucien, what am I going to tell them?”
“The truth. What else can you tell them?”
“There are things I don’t want them to know about.”
“And you can leave those out. Just tell them what you feel is right, Becky.”
A nurse, pushing a wheelchair, came into the room. “Your taxi, Ma’am,” she joked.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The house seemed empty without Charles. Silent. Any moment she expected to hear his deep voice calling for her—his footsteps on the stairs, his arms cradling her. But he was gone, forever.
“Lucien, what would have happened if Charles had lived and I’d not remembered anything?” she asked softly while leading him into the living room.
“Lord knows. It broke my heart finally finding you and you couldn’t remember our love.”
“But I did feel something. That day, when you walked towards me, I felt something tugging at my soul and felt that my body longed for you. I felt wanton as I was consumed by lust to have you make love to me. I think I sexed Charles to death that evening. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
Lucien pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault.”
“But it was you I was thinking about when Charles and I made love. I betrayed him, if not in body, I betrayed him in spirit.”
“Honey, but I was a big part of your life and your subconscious told you so. Don’t feel guilty. I’m sure, if angels exist, Charles will be smiling down on you now and wishing you nothing but happiness.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I think so.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips. “I’ll help you arrange everything, Becky. And after the funeral, we’ll go home.”
“My parents—Paul—I thought they were dead.”
“No. Those two men who burglarized your home, fired shots to frighten them into revealing hidden riches. Your mother caught a bullet in the shoulder. Then, when your parents and Paul wouldn’t talk, they knocked them unconscious.”
“O my God! But they’re okay now?”
“Yes. They’re fine and those two men are behind bars.”
“I heard those men talk. They planned other things for me, Lucien. Like rape. Thinking my parents and Paul were dead, I ran away. There was no escape except to throw the dinghy into the water and get into it.”
“Perhaps that was destiny, too. We may never have met otherwise.”
“But what about the house? I’m sure I saw flames as the sea carried me away.”
“They burned down the barn and a couple of sheds. Maybe they planned to torch the house later on, who knows. If your father hadn’t come to and phoned the police, anything could have happened. At least they’re locked away for a long time.”
“I wonder where Maria is?”
“I see a note on the table.”
Becky reluctantly stepped away from Lucien and picked up the note. It said, ‘Becky, if you come home while I’m gone, I’ll be back tomorrow. My niece is having a baby. Maria.’
“We’re alone, Lucien,” said Becky softly. “Maria won’t be back until tomorrow.”
Lucien was beside her with two big steps and scooped her into his arms. “You’re twice as heavy now,” he joked as he carried her up the stairs. “Which one of these doors?”
“That one,” Becky pointed at the guestroom. She didn’t want to be in the room where Charles had died.
Lucien carried her inside and before lowering her onto the bed claimed her lips. Becky felt his tongue enter, probing, gently exploring the crevices of her mouth, almost as if he were reaching deep inside to touch her soul. Her heart almost exploded within her chest as without letting go of her he lowered her onto the bed and cradled her tightly in his arms. “Make love to me, Lucien?” she whispered against his hot lips. “I need you more than ever right now.”
His hands were urgent as he tugged at the maternity top and pulled it over her head. Becky fumbled with the pants. Her fingers felt like butter as she pulled the elastic waist down. They trembled so much from the desire that now raged within her, a desire she’d felt in the last months but couldn’t place. A lust that needed to be satisfied. Now.
Lucien’s hands were on her breasts. His lips trailed hot kisses down her neck, her chest, to her aching nipples. Suddenly, he stopped. Becky opened her eyes to see him staring down at her breasts. “Lucien, don’t stop?”
“Becky, it doesn’t seem right. Charles is barely dead and here we are making love. The baby—I’ll raise him as my own son and will love him because he’s part of you.” He drew circles around her nipples with his forefinger. “They’ve changed,” he murmured. “And your breasts are so much larger. Pregnancy has enhanced your beauty. I already have a portrait in mind of you this way. And what’s with the diamond studs? I must say they’re rather intoxicating the way they glitter against the darkness of the aureole.”
Up till now she hadn’t thought about the baby or how he had been conceived. Lucien’s words jolted her into awareness. “Lucien, the baby can’t be anyone’s but yours.”
His eyes locked with hers. They were filled with questions. “How? But, Gavin…”
“Gavin never made love to me completely. He’d masturbate and stuff like that, but he never came inside me. He w
as waiting for that until I was better and we were home, he told me.”
Wonderingly, his hands traveled to her belly. He stroked the taut skin, played with her protruding bellybutton then kissed her belly all over. “Mine?” he whispered softly. “You’re carrying my son?”
“Or daughter,” Becky smiled feeling utter relief now that the baby couldn’t be Gavin’s.
Up till then Lucien had not removed his jeans. But now he was filled with such wonder, such desire, that his penis strained to break free and all thought of Charles was forgotten. He quickly undid his belt, the buttons and wriggled out of the jeans. Before anything else, he moved up to cradle Becky’s naked body in his arms. He lay on his side and pulled her against him, cupping her buttocks with his hands. His cock poked between her legs. He moved it slowly back and forth aching for that familiar place, the warm velvet tunnel he knew, his cock knew so well. “Becky, you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world,” he whispered in her neck while his hand stole between her legs. “Is it safe? Sex won’t hurt the baby?”
“No, silly. It’s just a little awkward.” She undid the band that held his hair and grabbed a handful, yanking him downward to her breasts. She rolled onto her back and opened her legs for him. When his fingers parted the folds and ran up and down her cleft, she sighed with longing. Everything between her legs throbbed for the want of him. His teeth nibbled her nipples while his other hand kneaded her engorged breasts. No words were necessary now as the urgency of their desire overtook everything else.
Lucien knelt between her legs. Gently he pulled her toward him and raised her buttocks. He gazed down at her cleft, the flesh now swollen, changed. Suddenly he noticed the tattoos. “Becky? What is this?”
“What?” she murmured resenting the intrusion of his words into her moment of ecstasy.
“The tattoos.”
“Gavin insisted I had those done. Thinking he was my husband at the time, I thought to please him.”
“They look rather exotic,” Lucien murmured, “but I wish I were the one who’d asked you to have those done.”