Where the Heart Chooses (13 page)

“After all, you’ll hardly want to be milked
like a cow!” Mother declared, and I saw no reason to disagree with
her.

If Nigel had insisted otherwise, I wondered,
would she have changed her mind? However, he didn’t object.

I’d do what I had to do, but I almost wished
he had objected. My breasts were so filled with milk they
hurt
, and even the slight weight of my nightgown was
painful.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Nigel asked when he
found me almost in tears. I knew they would do no good, but I felt
so helpless.

I gestured to the front of my nightgown,
which was wet with the milk my breasts were leaking.

“Oh, Portia. What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. I just wish my milk would dry up
already.”

“Sit up.”

I didn’t know why he wanted me to do that,
but I did, and flinched as the damp material snagged my
nipples.

“Now, let’s get this nightgown off you.” He
raised it carefully, avoiding my nipples, and then tugged it over
my head and tossed it to the floor. “Better?”

“A little.”

“How’s this?” His big, gentle hands cupped
my breasts, raising them slightly, and while the coolness of his
touch was a relief, it wasn’t for long.

“I’m sorry, Nigel. I’m being such a baby
about this.”

“You gave birth to our son without a
sound.”

Only because he was at my side. If I had
been alone, I wouldn’t have been able to contain the cries,
especially toward the end, when the doctor kept saying “Just a
little longer.”

“I think you’re entitled to complain now,
but…”

I gasped as I felt the warm moisture of his
tongue sweep up the curve of my breast to my nipple.

“Nigel, what—”

“Let me try to soothe you.” He closed his
lips around my nipple and suckled.

There was a tugging in my womb, and such a
wave of desire broke over me, I had to bite his shoulder to keep
from screaming. He started to pull away, but I wouldn’t let
him.

“No! Please, no! Do the other one!” My
nipples had never been especially sensitive; as a matter of fact,
we’d found it amusing that Nigel’s were more receptive to fondling
than mine. “That feels so good!”

My doctor had told us we couldn’t have sex
for at least six weeks, but Nigel’s mouth on my breasts threw me
from one orgasm to another, and finally I sagged boneless in his
arms, shivering from the aftershocks.

He kissed me, and I tasted my milk on his
lips. “Better?” he asked again.

“Yes.” I sighed, replete. “This won’t help,
though.”

“I’m sorry.” Poor darling sounded so
contrite.

“You’ll just have to come to Arlington Hall
when I call.”

“I will?”

“Won’t you?”

“Of course, darling.”

I started to drift off, but something jolted
me to awareness. “Nigel, you didn’t climax. Let me…”

“You don’t have to—”

No, but I wanted to. He cried out as I took
him in my mouth, and it didn’t take very long before he came.

I licked the last few drops from my lips,
shared his taste with him—after all, turnabout was only fair
play—and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Until Quinton woke at two A.M., demanding to
be fed. Thank God for formula, because I had nothing to give
him.

* * * *

A few months later, my brother Bryan
announced he was getting married to Johanna Collier Harrington, the
widow of a friend of his. He’d even been in their wedding party.
She was a petite woman, an astonishingly beautiful brunette with
striking blue eyes and two young children, which pleased Father. He
wanted a Sebring to carry on the name, and Johanna had proved she
was fertile.

As for what Mother thought of her…well, it
was always difficult to tell what Mother was thinking.

She called to inform me that she was having
a dinner party at Shadow Brook for the engaged couple, and Nigel
and I were not to be late. “And of course you’ll be staying the
weekend.” Before I could object that we didn’t like leaving our son
for that period of time, she continued. “And you’ll bring Quinton
with you. It’s been some time since we’ve seen him.”

“Yes, Mother.” That meant Alyona would be
coming with us as well. “May we bring Gregor also?”

“Who? Oh, the young man who’s staying with
you. Certainly. He’s very polite.” Mother had met him when she and
Father had driven down for Quinton’s christening. “But Portia? Be
careful.”

“Of what?”

“You don’t want to hurt him.”

“Of course I don’t.” Where did this come
from? “Why would you even think I’d do something like that?”

“You wouldn’t, not purposefully, but I’ve
seen the way he looks at you.”

“And how is that?”

“Let me just say, he’d like nothing better
than to catch you under the mistletoe.”

“It’s May, Mother.”

“Don’t be facetious. That was simply a
figure of speech.”

“Be that as it may, you’ve got it wrong.
Gregor worships Nigel, and he’s very good with Quinton, but he
barely says two words to me. And please don’t tell me it’s because
he’s struck dumb by my beauty.”

“Your looks have nothing to do with it.
Remember, he’s a man.”

“He’s twelve years my junior!”

“Nevertheless, I’d strongly advise you not
to hang any mistletoe.”

“Yes, Mother.” When she was like this, it
didn’t pay to get into an argument with her. “What time would you
like us to arrive?”

“Come as early as you can. You’ll want to
get settled in and freshen up before dinner.”

* * * *

As it turned out, it was just the four of us
who drove to Shadow Brook. When I mentioned the weekend, Alyona
gave a brisk nod. “I go pack for baby Quinton.”

Gregor, on the other hand, went to Nigel and
said he couldn’t go because he had to study with friends.

“Does he really?” I asked Nigel.

“No. He’s got a girlfriend, and I don’t
think he wants to leave her.”

There! I
knew
Mother was imagining
things!
“Have you spoken to him about taking precautions?”

He wrapped an arm around me and dropped a
kiss at the corner of my mouth. “Both our mothers would have a
heart attack to hear you speak like that!”

“I don’t know about Ada, but Mother would
have preferred the heart attack to having an unwed, pregnant
daughter.”

“Actually, Ada would refuse to even consider
the possibility of sex outside of marriage.”

“Oh dear. What did she think of us?”

“Do you honestly think I’d share something
as beautiful and intimate as what we did with that woman? Thank God
she had no girl children.”

“And speaking of girl children, would you
like one?”

“Darling, is this a clever way of telling me
we’re expecting again?”

“No.” I pinched his chin. “I’d like to wait
a few years—you know there are five years between each of my
brothers and me—but when Quinton is three or four?”

“Whatever you say, whenever you say.”

What a truly wonderful man! “Now, to get
back to Gregor…?”

“Yes, Portia. I had ‘the talk’ with him and
even provided him with some condoms. I know that isn’t exactly the
thing to tell him, but it’s just not to prevent pregnancy. His
girlfriend might be the sweetest thing, but I want him to avoid the
possibility of venereal disease.”

I leaned into him. “I chose the perfect man
to be my son’s father.”

He cleared his throat. “Do…er…do we have
time to hang some pictures?”

“Always, darling.” That wasn’t the non
sequitur it sounded like.

We were in the midst of furnishing our home.
I was wearing slacks and one of Nigel’s older shirts, which I’d
tied around my midriff. I had a nail in my mouth and a hammer in my
waistband. That photograph I’d purchased in The Best of Times was
propped against a dresser, but not for long. I’d found the perfect
spot for it between the windows that looked out onto the side yard.
It would be the first thing we saw as we entered our bedroom.

I took the nail from my mouth and was about
to hammer it into the wall when Nigel strolled in, looking at his
watch. “Darling, Bobby and Ethel are expecting us shortly.”

“
Just a second. I’m almost done.”

He sucked in a breath, and the next thing I
knew, the hammer went flying in one direction, the nail flew in
another, and I was under him on the bed. He tore frantically at my
slacks, paused only long enough to unzip his trousers, and then he
was in me.

Afterward, we apologized for being late,
telling our host and hostess we’d been hanging pictures and had
lost track of time.

And that became our code for making
love.

Which we did now, and of course, once again,
we were late.

Alyona simply smiled and murmured, “I change
baby’s diaper, then we go.”

Gregor blushed, unable to meet our eyes, and
I felt badly about that. “I…uh…I have to get to my friend’s house.
I promise not to screw—” His blush darkened. “Sorry. I’ll keep an
eye on everything.”

“It’s all right, Greg.” Nigel patted his
shoulder. “We trust you.”

Gregor blew out a breath. “Have a great
time!” And he grabbed up his books, made sure he had his key, and
bolted from the house.

* * * *

I hoped Johanna and I would become friends.
In a family comprised almost entirely of men, it would be nice to
have a sister.

Alyona took Quinton to the nursery on third
floor, and Nigel and I went to greet Father.

We found him and Bryan in the study, and I
wasn’t surprised Mother and Johanna weren’t there. This was where
business was discussed.

“Sorry we’re late, Father. Did we miss
anything important?”

“No. Bryan and I have concluded our
conversation. Portia, is that a—Never mind.” He kissed my forehead
before turning to Nigel. “Mann.”

“Mr. Sebring.” They shook hands.

Bryan drew me aside and whispered. “You’ve
got a love bite on your throat.”

“Really?” I asked coolly. I didn’t raise my
hand to the spot where I knew it was, and the corner of his mouth
quirked in a grin. “Where’s Tony?”

“Anthony won’t be joining us.” Father was
altogether too casual. “Something came up at the NSA.”

I stared at Father thoughtfully. Had he
forgotten I was back in the office? Tony hadn’t mentioned anything
when I’d left for the weekend yesterday.

“Bryan…” For a second it seemed as if there
was pain in Bryan’s eyes, but I must have been mistaken, because I
blinked, and there was nothing of the kind there.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll get
together one day soon. Mother is showing Johanna her rose gardens.
I’ll introduce you at dinner. I think you’ll—”

“Yes, yes, that will be fine.” Abruptly,
Father changed the subject. “Mann, I want to talk to you.”

“I thought you said your conversation was
finished, Father.”

“With your brother. Now I’d like to have one
with Mann. Bryan, why don’t you and your sister find something to
do to amuse yourselves?”

“Father.” I gave him a warning glance.

He scowled me. “You should know by now your
husband doesn’t need protection from anyone.”

Nigel came to me and kissed my temple. “Go
ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“All right. I haven’t ridden Penelope in
some time. Bryan, would you care to join me?”

“I’d been planning to ride with Johanna
tomorrow.”

“And you can’t ride today?”

His grin was lopsided. “Do you know, you’re
right? Give me fifteen minutes to change, and I’ll meet you at the
stable.”

“You’d better give me half an hour. It’s
time Quinton began his equestrian education, and he’ll need to have
his diaper changed and be dressed as well.”

“Is that a good idea, darling? He’s so
young.” Nigel was truly worried, which I found very sweet.
Unnecessary, but sweet.

I kissed his chin. “We were all on horses at
his age. I’ll have him up in front of me, and he’ll be fine.”

“No need to worry, Mann,” Father said. “You
should know by now my daughter is an accomplished horsewoman.”

He gave Father a tight grin. “You’ll allow
me to be concerned for my wife and my son.”

“I won’t go faster than a walk to start
with, I promise, Nigel.”

He touched my hair. “I trust you to keep
both of you safe.”

“Penelope won’t throw me. She’s a very
steady mount. She even let me post to a trot after one of Bryan’s
idiot friends put a burr under her saddle as a practical joke.” I’d
known something was wrong by her distressed whickers and nervous
sweat, and had immediately dismounted.

“And he wasn’t a friend for long after I
learned what that a-idiot did.” Bryan still looked upset that
someone he’d allowed to become close to him would resort to an
action that could have resulted in injury to both me and my
horse.

“Why would he do something like that?” Nigel
demanded. “It strikes me as outright cruel.”

“I objected to him trying to kiss me.”

“So he thought he could retaliate in that
manner? Who is he?”

“You don’t know him, darling, and he’s long
since left this coast.” I’d never seen my husband so coldly
furious.

“You could have been killed!”

“No, I—”

“Portia, I don’t often do this, but in this
instance I have no choice but to insist you tell me—
who is
he?
”

“Let it go, Mann.” Father seemed
unconcerned, and I knew what that meant.

I rested my hand against Nigel’s cheek and
leaned close to whisper in his ear, “Later.”

His own hand covered mine. “If something had
happened to you…”

“I know. But nothing did.”

“Portia, Bryan, you both have my permission
to leave.”

Bryan and I exchanged glances.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, Father.” I kissed Nigel’s cheek.

As Bryan and I left the study, I heard
Father say, “This affection you show Portia…”