Authors: Sara Craven
‘So why are you in my head so much?’
‘I am?’
‘Even when I’m in tough board meetings,’ he confirmed.
She stared at him incredulously. ‘Heavens!’ she said faintly.
‘Several times I’ve had to control the urge to come and see you,’ he surprised her by admitting. ‘Just to check you were settled in all right—not for any other reason, obviously.’
‘Why else?’ she managed chokily.
‘So I had mixed feelings when you wrote about your inheritance. At least it gave me a bona fide reason to call and see you.’
‘Oh!’ escaped her, but she was still too stunned to do more than sit tight—and hope.
‘I decided I wouldn’t come and see you again,’ Silas revealed. Hope took on a dull sheen. ‘But you were in my head so much,’ he went on, to shoot her up to the high end of the
see-saw she was on. ‘Even when I landed up in hospital you were in my head,’ he owned. ‘Then I opened my eyes one day and there you were.’ He paused, and suddenly the question she had once avoided was there again. ‘Why did you come?’ he asked.
‘I—er…’ She felt a great need to be honest with him. Silas appeared to be sharing the same piece of shaky ground, so whatever it might cost her, she felt an overwhelming urge to meet him halfway. ‘The paper—the report in the paper said you were gravely ill.’ She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then, while her nerve held out, she plunged. ‘And I’d begun to care for you too.’
‘Sweetheart!’ Silas breathed, and, his head coming closer, he gently kissed her. For ageless seconds they just stared at each other. Then Silas was saying, ‘I have to confess that when I decided to leave hospital I did try to fight against the compulsion to ask you to come and stay at my place overnight.’
‘Because…’
‘Because I knew I was falling for you,’ he admitted openly.
Did caring for her and falling for her mean that he loved her a little? She had no way, no experience, of knowing. The look in his eyes was warm, even tender, but…She started to feel a little scared. She decided to stick with that which she did know. ‘But you did ask me to come. You phoned and—’
‘And blamed my illness for my weakness. Had I been physically stronger I would not have been so otherwise weak.’
‘You—um—gave in…?’
‘I gave in,’ he took up. ‘And found I enjoyed having you tinkering about my apartment. That,’ he added with a self-deprecating look, ‘bothered me.’
‘You were a bit of a snarly brute at times,’ she said with a smile.
‘Why wouldn’t I be? I found I didn’t want you to leave. Yet I wasn’t ready to face what was happening to me.’
Colly looked solemnly at him. His caring for her, did he
mean? ‘You sent me flowers,’ she recalled, trying hard to keep her head together.
‘I should have phoned to thank you,’ he apologised. ‘But I was a bit narked that you’d left without saying goodbye. I suppose to send you some “bread-and-butter” thank-you flowers was my bright idea of stamping “The End” on it.’ He smiled then, a smile that made her heart turn over. ‘Only it wasn’t the end,’ he said softly. ‘The next time I saw you, you were having dinner with Andrews and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying his company.’
Colly stared at Silas in amazement. As he had picked up that note of jealousy in her voice, so she thought she detected something similar in his. ‘You—were—jealous?’ she asked in wonderment.
‘There wasn’t any shade of green that didn’t bombard me,’ he admitted. ‘Oh, I fought against you, Colly Livingstone,’ he went on, to thrill her some more. ‘Even the next evening, when I was phoning you and asking you to have dinner with me, I fought against you.’
‘Against your—caring for me?’
‘Absolutely. Time and again I reminded myself that ours was a purely business arrangement, and that was the way it must be. And that while I might feel I should like to get to know you better, what would be the point? I did not want to be
married-married.’
He squeezed her hand and disclosed, ‘I again made up my mind not to contact you again. I would resist all temptation to phone or see you again.’ His eyes caressed her. ‘Then you, my dear, dear, Colly, rang me,’ he said, with such a tender look in his eyes for her that she had to swallow hard before she could find her voice.
‘I rang to confess I’d done something terrible.’
‘Poor love,’ he breathed. ‘And I knew that night, when I experienced feelings of such murderous rage when I imagined that Andrews had assaulted you, that I was in love with you.’
Her mouth fell open. His caring—was love! ‘Oh, Silas!’ she cried tremulously.
‘It—doesn’t—upset you that I feel so deeply for you?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no, not a bit,’ she whispered. ‘You’re sure?’ She could not believe it.
‘I’m very sure,’ he replied tenderly. ‘I knew that night that I could fight it no longer. While I wasn’t sure then what it was I did want—it was all new, too shattering—what I
was
sure about, without having to think about it, was that I would not mind the world knowing that you and I were married.’
‘You wouldn’t…?’
‘I wouldn’t.’ He took a moment out to gently kiss her, but pulled back to ask, ‘How do you feel about me, Colly?’
Looking at him, she felt nervous, and too shy to say those words she had never spoken before.
‘You said that you care for me,’ he said, when she did not answer, ‘and I’m trying hard to go at a pace you’re comfortable with. But I really would like to know something of the extent of you caring, little love.’
‘I—er…’ Colly gave a small cough to clear her choked throat. ‘Oh, Silas Livingstone,’ she managed, and, her voice strengthening, ‘I’ve cried tonight because I thought my…the way I felt about you was hopeless. I…’
‘Some of your tears were over me?’
‘More than some, I think,’ she acknowledged.
‘My darling,’ he breathed, and just had to tenderly kiss her, a loving hand stroking tenderly down the side of her face. ‘Go on,’ he urged gently, after some moments of just looking at her.
‘I promise you I’m not someone who gives way to tears easily.’ She obeyed, with what voice she could find. ‘But as I drove away on our wedding day I could have burst into tears. I knew then that for all, as you’d remarked, we were not emotionally involved you were having a most peculiar effect on me.’
‘Do you think it was the start of you—caring—for me?’ Silas wanted to know.
‘I tried to deny any such nonsense,’ she replied with a
tender smile. ‘But when I read in the paper about you being gravely ill, and I saw you in hospital, when, as exhausted as you were, you laughed at my “widow” comment—I knew then that I was very much in love with you.’
‘Oh, Colly,’ he groaned, and reached for her. And for seconds, wonderful long-short seconds, he held her in his arms. ‘You’re sure?’ He leaned back to question her, as if he, like her, could not believe his hearing.
‘I love you,’ she answered huskily, a little self-consciously, and was drawn close up to him again.
For long blissful minutes they held each other, pulling back occasionally to tenderly kiss, then to break apart and, rejoicing, hold each other once more. ‘I love you so very much, my beautiful wife,’ Silas breathed against her ear.
‘I love you so,’ she replied. ‘I never knew I could feel like this.’
‘Sweetheart,’ he said softly, and kissed her long and lingeringly before, breaking his kiss, he leaned away, his expression never more serious. ‘Every hour since I parted from you yesterday has been pure torment.’
‘Has it?’ she asked softly, sympathetically. She had been there, and knew all about that torment.
‘I never want to spend another torturous night like last night,’ he said, smiling now at her, then going seriously on, ‘I knew I would know no rest until I had seen you. That I would have to make contact with you this evening—then Naomi phoned and delayed me. When I saw you with Rupert—’ Colly stiffened in his arms and he broke off. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘Was it—?’
‘Naomi?’ Having revealed so much of her feelings, Colly saw no point in holding back now.
‘What about her?’ he asked, seeming mystified.
‘Your date tonight…?’
‘
Date!
She wasn’t my…! Oh, Lord, didn’t I say?’ He did a fast backtrack over his remarks with regard to Naomi. Then, with a groan, ‘I didn’t!’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh, my love, I’ve been so stewed up over you. So scared of frightening you
away should I get to talk of love with you, that I completely forgot. I’m so sorry,’ he apologised, but went quickly on to enlighten her, ‘Naomi is Kit’s wife.’
‘Kit? Your cousin Kit?’
‘One and the same. But let me explain. I had a meeting in Lisbon today—I was scheduled to stay over and return in the morning, but I was anxious to see you.’ Already Colly was feeling dreadful about her jealousy. Poor darling, he must be tired out. He had declined to stay in Portugal because he had wanted to see her!
‘You don’t have to explain,’ she told him hurriedly.
But he was not having that. ‘I think I do,’ he contradicted softly. ‘I don’t want any misunderstandings between us,’ he said, going on, ‘I’d barely got home, and was wondering whether to phone first or just call on you, when Naomi rang sounding extremely upset and asking if I would meet her to discuss a problem. It seemed churlish to say no. Kit being family makes Naomi family. I said I’d meet her for a coffee somewhere—anything more would take too long. She suggested an establishment that was close to her. “Our” hotel. I would have preferred somewhere else, but she seemed under enough pressure without me giving her further problems.’
‘Were you able to help her?’
Silas shook his head. ‘I doubt it. She may feel better for having sounded off about Kit’s misdemeanours—she’s fairly certain he’s having an affair—but, while I’ll have a word with him, I doubt anything I can say will make the smallest difference. But that’s enough about a marriage that’s going wrong. I’d prefer to talk about a marriage that I dearly hope will from now on start to go right.’
Oh, heavens! Colly wished she knew more of what he meant. She gave herself a mental shake. For goodness’ sake, this was a man who, after what she knew would have been a full day of business, had dashed back to London because he was anxious to see
her
!
‘
Our
—marriage?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Don’t be scared, love,’ Silas said gently. ‘I mean our mar
riage. If you need more time, I’ll wait. If you still want a career, that’s fine. But I have to tell you that I love you so much it is my dearest wish that we make our marriage a permanent and a proper marriage.’
She looked at him, her heart thundering away. ‘By ppermanent and proper, you mean…’ Her voice faded.
Silas looked back at her steadily. ‘By permanent and proper I mean I want you to come and live with me and be my wife,’ he answered quietly. And when, with roaring in her ears, Colly stared at him speechlessly, ‘I want you to be my wife—’ He broke off, then, his eyes holding hers, added, ‘In every sense of the word, Colly.’
She had an idea she had gone a touch pink, but his eyes were still quietly holding hers. ‘But—but you don’t want to do anything that in the long term will bind us together. You said so. On Saturday.’ She clearly remembered. ‘When we first went to our room, you said—’
‘I lied,’ he cut in.
‘You—lied?’ she queried, and just had to burst out laughing.
But Silas did not laugh. ‘You’re all right about that side of marriage?’ he asked carefully. ‘I won’t rush you. If you…’
A light all at once started to dawn. ‘Without wishing to sound too forward, I believe I’m very all right with—um—that side,’ she murmured, wondering, after her response to him yesterday, how he could doubt it. ‘I love you,’ she told him solemnly. And, when he held her that little bit closer, yet still seemed a tiny bit unsure, ‘I love you so much, Silas. I want you with my heart, with my mind, and with my body.’
He stared at her for ageless moments, then drew her yet closer up to him. He kissed her then, and it was a wonderful kiss, a kiss that was vastly different from the gentle tender kisses they had shared that evening.
Her heart was racing furiously when with gently seeking fingers his hand found its way inside the light wrap she wore, and as gently he cupped her breast in his hand.
‘Oh, Silas!’ she whispered, on a small gulp of breath.
He stilled. ‘Oh, Silas, yes? Or, Oh, Silas, no?’ he asked gently.
She looked at him, puzzled. But as he wanted no misunderstandings between them, neither did she. ‘Yes,’ she murmured shyly.
‘Darling,’ he said softly, and a little raggedly. ‘I feel as if I’m treading on eggshells here—you said no yesterday…’
‘No, I didn’t,’ she denied. Silas pulled back from her, taking his hand away from her breast and drawing the edges of her wrap together. ‘When did I?’ she asked. Her memory of it was…
‘When I—’
‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, as all at once she recalled his fingers on the material of her nightdress.
‘Oh?’
She went a little pink again. ‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m new to all of this.’ But, determined as he, her dear love, to have no misunderstandings, she overcame her feeling of shyness to own, ‘I wasn’t saying no, I didn’t want to—er—make love with you.’ His words ‘I don’t want to worry or upset you’ and ‘I’m doing my best to be restrained, here’ took on a new meaning, ‘Oh, Silas. You said something about me not needing my nightie. I’ve never been naked in front of a man before. I couldn’t hack it.’ She coughed self-consciously. ‘I seem to have a bit of a hang-up…I just couldn’t…B-but otherwise…That’s what I meant! Not…’ She felt very warm all at once.
‘Oh, my sweet love,’ Silas burst in. ‘What an insensitive clod I am!’ he grieved. ‘Forgive me. I should have realised…’
‘It doesn’t matter. Not now,’ she assured him. How could anything matter any more? Silas loved her and she loved him. Silas loved her, loved
her.
‘We won’t make it matter,’ he decreed. ‘It’s a minor obstacle that will pass as we get to know each other.’ He smiled then, a wonderful smile. And then asked, ‘Are you going to marry me, Mrs Livingstone? Are you going to live with me, and love with me, and stay—permanently—married to me?’
She smiled a beautiful smile; she had never been so happy. ‘I’m so glad you came back from Lisbon,’ she replied, love shining from her eyes. ‘The answer, Mr Livingstone, is yes.’