Winter's End (24 page)

In the evening, he
sat with his grandmother explaining his need to leave so urgently. He told her
about another movie project which would occupy his hours for the next three
months. She had nodded her head sadly as he kissed her on the cheeks.

Somehow later that
evening, he found himself in the children’s bedroom. He spent a few hours with
them as they played. A sadness filled his heart when he looked at their cheery
faces. He was going to miss them and the adoring way in which they called him
“Papa”.

“You will come back,
right?” said Hannah, as she lay in her bed.

“For you, I will,” he
replied, rubbing her nose with his. “I always will.” He tucked the covers
around her tightly.

“I missed you at
dinner,” she said, sleepily. Her eyes fluttered, trying to keep awake.

He smiled and turned
the lights out.

In the darkness, he
tossed and turned in his bed, his memory torturing him with a replay of the
jealousy he felt
 
when he had seen Emma
and Richard together. He realised then that he would never be able to tolerate seeing
her in the arms of another man. Yielding to his insomnia, he rose out of his
bed and pulled on a pair of pants and a cotton vest. He noticed lights
streaming through his windows. It was one of those spring Skye nights of aurora
borealis, where the sky would be beautifully painted with a multitude of
colourful fluorescent shades.

He strode to the
library. He felt a sudden breeze as he entered and noticed the doors to the
balcony was open. When he reached it, he saw her standing in the corner, her
eyes focused on the dazzling mat of lights in the horizon.

He stopped, holding
his breath for a second. She was beautiful. Her long hair fell down to her
hips. Her nightdress was so soft and thin, he could see her nipples erect against
it. His eyes ran down the length of her, imagining the shape of her exquisite naked
body under it. A breeze fluttered again, lifting the strands of her hair off
her shoulders revealing her ivory skin.

His felt a stir in
his loins. If he didn’t say anything, he’d grow crazy with the desire he was
feeling for her.

“You’ve never seen an
aurora before?”

She was surprised to
see him. “I have,” she smiled. “But each time I look at it, it’s like I’m
seeing it for the first time. Like palm prints. Each is different.”

She raised her hand
to the night sky. “If only we could touch it,” she whispered.

Mesmerised, he walked
over to her slowly. Standing behind her, he put his palm over hers. They
stroked the aurora softly in unison. He caressed her arm and laid it gently at
his nape. He traced the underside of her arm, softly down her body until he
reached her breasts. He inhaled a sharp breath as he leaned closer to her. He
trailed her neck with his lips as his hands cupped her breasts. He heard her
whimper.

She felt him hard against
her. Her eyes closed, she felt his lips against her skin, his hands tracing the
length of her body.

When he turned her
around to kiss her, her lips parted, his tongue unknotting the desires within
her. She was hot at her core and her legs trembled under her.

He picked her up in
his arms and walked to his bedroom, kissing her as he did.

Inside, he gently
pulled off her dress and laid her on his bed. She kissed him as he let her
undress him.

He leant towards her
and took her hard, erect nipples in his mouth. He cupped her buttocks pulling
her closer to him. He rubbed his chest against her breasts as he tasted her creamy
skin. And when she couldn’t take it anymore, he tormented her further by
tracing her body with his lips down to her navel and to her core. Finally, he
stepped astride her and entered her gently. A moan escaped her lips and she
closed her eyes to feel him even more.

He felt her fingers
clasp his back tightly, as he fell further and further into her. Rocking
gently, she moved rhythmically with him and when they became one, she cried
softly.

*****

It was still dark
outside but the aurora was long gone. Chris looked over at the woman sleeping
beside him. He gently brushed away her hair so he could see her face. His
fingers traced her eyes and lips and down her naked side. But when she stirred,
he stopped. She looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to wake her.

He dressed himself
quietly and left the bedroom. Outside, Theodore was waiting for him to take him
to the
Ashaig
airfield as they had planned the night
before.

They drove solemnly
through the dark road until they reached
Ashaig
. At
the airstrip, a helicopter whirred, waiting to fly him out of the Isle of Skye.

“Theodore,” he said,
before the butler could leave. “Wait.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out
a credit card. He handed it over to him. “I forgot to give this to Emma. Tell
her she can use it however she pleases. It’s unlimited.”

Theodore looked at it
hesitantly and then took it. He nodded and placed it into his pocket.

“Thanks, Theodore,”
said Chris.

Theodore sullenly watched
his young master, step inside the helicopter and fly into the twilight of the
morning sky.

*****

Chris tried calling
Emma for two weeks but she refused to speak to him each time. He was puzzled at
first, but this gradually grew into anger. She had used him. She got what she
wanted. His money. She had disconnected her mobile and there was no way in
which he could personally get in touch with her.

Fuming, he called his
manager. “Carl, he said, angrily into the phone. “It’s me, Chris. I want you to
cancel an account for me. Stop all transactions. Declare that the card’s lost
if you have to.”

“Why?” asked Carl,
anxiously. “Did you really lose the card? How much did you have on it?”

He paused. “Unlimited,”
he said. “Could you do me a favour and check how much is withdrawn
 
from it?”

“Give me a second,”
said Carl. He pulled out the details onto his screen. “Nothing, man. It’s
clean, thank god.” He breathed out a sigh of relief.

Chris grew quiet.

“Hey, Chris, you there?”
he heard Carl say on the phone.

“Yeah,” he replied
slowly.

“The card’s made out
in your wife’s name. You still want to cancel it?”F

Chris paused briefly.
“No. Leave it for now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Hey, Chris,” said
Carl. “Are you going back to Skye anytime soon?”

Chris stood at his
window thinking, his eyes on the tall structures grazing the LA skies. “Yes,”
he said.

“Do you mind getting
an autograph from your wife? My girlfriend’s been bugging me about it ever
since she’s found out you married her favourite author.”

“I don’t understand,”
said Chris, puzzled.

“Your wife, Emma
Abbott is the author, Amelia Priestley. That’s her pen name. Beats me how
Natasha found out but she did. As far as I know, it’s so hush
hush
, very few people know that. Did you?”

A muscle throbbed in
his temples as he realised there was still a lot he didn’t know about his wife.
“I did,” he lied. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He ended the call and
dialled the Kinnaird Mansion.

Theodore picked it
up.

“Did you give her the
card, Theodore?” he asked.

“I did,” he replied.
“But she refused to take it. I left it in the top drawer of your bedroom
dresser.”

Chris paused. “How is
she doing?” he asked.

Theodore was quiet
and for a moment, he thought he had lost him. “Theodore?” he said into the
phone.

“Yes, sir,” Theodore
answered, slowly. “She is doing fine. She’s not here though. She’s back in her
house. She’s been there this past week.”

The conversation grew
silent as both men paused.

“Mr. Cameron,” said Theodore,
at last. “Mr. Ethan Wells called by her home. She will be going out with him to
a charity dinner tonight. So you might not be able to reach her at all today.”

His heart clamped.
“Perhaps, tomorrow then,” said Chris.

“Tomorrow, sir,”
replied Theodore.

*****

She was running. Her
breath deepened as she stumbled into the dark forest. She felt the bruises on
her body. She felt the hurt in her heart. She didn’t know what it was, but she
knew it was there following her.

She saw Robert in the
distance and ran towards him. But he turned away, like he usually did in her
dreams.

“Richard!” she called
out, seeing him standing behind Robert. “Help me!”But the faster he ran to him,
the further he moved away.

She felt her predator
draw closer. Her heart raced. She held out her hand in desperation but Richard
would not take it. “Please, Richard,” she cried. “Help me!”

Her predator caught
her arm and swung her to him.

It was then she saw
his familiar, grey eyes. They were puzzled and hurt.

“It’s just me,” he
said. “Chris.”

She awoke with a
start. A strange feeling of peace and contentment enveloped her. She was alone
in her house. The children were still asleep in their beds at the Kinnaird
Mansion. She arose from her bed and picked up her clock. She saw that it was
only a few minutes past five in the morning.

The sun was still yet
to fully rise in the horizon. However it’s amber rays was already lighting up the
twilight sky.

She pulled out a
shawl and draped it over her shoulders. Outside, the morning mist was rising
off the cold, Skye meadows. The wild flowers had still yet to open its petals
as it waited eagerly for the warmth of the spring season to set in. She heard
the calls of birds arousing each other from their sleep.

Aside from her, there
was very little she saw that was awake so early. She rubbed her hands together,
as she stepped out into the misty, cold morning and headed toward the Kinnaird
Mansion as she had done for the past week.

The hems of her long
skirt dampened while she traipsed through the meadow. She stepped over the
broken fence that divided the two properties. She smiled as she walked by the
tree at which she had first called Ethel by her name. Her eyes involuntary
wandered to where she had seen her first Kinnaird royal deer. And there through
the mist she saw him coming towards her.

She stilled,
wondering if she was hallucinating from the early, cold spring morning. But
when he came closer, she saw his cold breath entwining into the mist, telling
her he was real. He didn’t stall but kept walking closer until his hands
reached for her slim waist, drawing her into his arms to kiss her. His lips crushing
against hers, nipping them, his tongue thrusting deeply and fiercely into the
depths of her mouth.

“I love you,” he panted
through his kisses.

She cupped his face
as she kissed him back. His hands slid to the small of her back, pulling her
tightly against him. She felt him harden against her and she flushed.

“Were you running?”
she asked.

“All the way from
LA,” he said, smiling.

“Why did you come
back?”

“I forgot to take you
and Hannah on a yacht ride,” he teased. He peered at her, his breath raspy
against her face. “I thought I had lost you,” he added seriously.

“Well, you haven’t,”
she smiled, searching into his eyes.

“When I heard you’d
gone out with Ethan Wells, I didn’t know what to think…”

“Wait,” she said,
pulling back. “What? I didn’t go out with Ethan Wells.”

“But Theodore said…”

“I could never. I
wouldn’t touch him even if he was the last man alive. Weren’t you the one to
tell me to stay away from him?”

“You listened,” he
said.

She smiled. “What
else did Theodore say?”

“That a soul
recognises its mate long before the eyes does.”

“He told me that
too,” she said softly, hypnotised as she traced his face with her fingers. “You’re
my Rebecca.”

He leant forward and
kissed her again. He picked her up into his arms and started walking down the
hill.

“Where are we going?”
she asked puzzled. “The mansion isn’t this way.”

“No,” he smiled. “I’m
taking you to the boathouse. It’s the closest. With the way I’m feeling now,
I’d be damned if I took you back to the mansion.”

She let out a small
laugh. “My house is closer, I think.”

“Over that baneful fence?
No way. I wouldn’t risk your precious neck. Besides, someone told me that a
man’s efforts does something to the female hormones.”

“What?” she kissed
his neck.