The Perfect Husband (18 page)

“Better?” she asked and couldn’t help but
smile.

“Not quite.”

With that, he pulled off his boxers and
threw them to the floor. His hands framed her hips and slid her
panties down. He stared at her while he did it and she couldn’t
look away. The desire in his eyes was hypnotic. She’d never
experienced anything quite so erotic.

He stretched out beside her, now naked from
head to toe and pulled her into his arms. Once again, she gasped
from the wonder of it. His erection strained thick and hard against
her belly and need stirred deep in her core. She’d been told over
and over she was frigid, and it had been so long since she’d felt
desire, she barely recognized it.

He lifted himself up above her, his face
still and taut with need. “I want you so much, Belle, but I’m
sorry, I don’t have a condom. I should have thought of it sooner,
but this was the furthest thing from my mind. It’s been so long and
I’ve gotten carried away in the moment and—”

She pressed a fingertip against his lips to
silence him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m on the pill and we’re both
required to take regular blood tests to ensure we’re free from
disease. So…” A tiny grin lifted the corner of her lips. “I’m game
if you are.”

He growled deep in his throat and his lips
found hers in another searing kiss. Her heart thumped and her
breath came fast. Heat centered between her legs. She moved
restlessly against him, wanting him closer still. Not needing any
further encouragement, he found her opening and eased his cock all
the way in.

The feel of him stretching her wide, filling
her, was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She’d been married to
Nigel for nearly a decade and even in their early years of
marriage, sex had never felt so beautiful and intimate.

Mason watched her as he moved slowly and she
clung to him. The tension in his face and shoulders told her all
she needed to know. He was holding himself back until she found her
release. His thoughtfulness brought tears to her eyes.

He noticed and she could tell he was going
to withdraw so she lifted her hips and surged up against him,
taking him by surprise. Picking up his pace, he matched her frantic
rhythm. Higher and higher they climbed until the pinnacle was just
within her reach. And then, with a triumphant cry, she toppled over
the edge. Moments later, Mason followed her to bliss.

She gasped and relaxed into the mattress,
relishing the feel of him pulsing inside her. With a final groan,
he collapsed on top of her. She held him close and was flooded with
tenderness for this oh-so-special man. Tears of regret pricked her
eyes, but not for what they’d just done.

If only she’d made better choices all
those years ago…
As if sensing her melancholy, Mason shifted
his weight onto his elbows and looked down at her.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, not willing to explain.
“Nothing. It was wonderful.
You
were wonderful. Thank
you.”

A shadow passed over his face, but quickly
disappeared. “There’s no need to thank me, Belle. I wanted this and
I enjoyed it as much as you.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, but not
before she caught the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Her
heart ached for him, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t capable
of anything else. She was damaged. He knew that. He’d best get used
to it and accept her response to him for what it was.

Dear Diary,

I can sometimes hear a voice in the
distance. It is sweet and gentle and beautiful. I vaguely remember
hearing this voice from a long, long time ago, but I cannot place
it. I used to have a voice. I used to laugh and sing and feel
beautiful…but that was another lifetime ago. Now, I feel
hideous.

Why would a man want to touch a woman who is
nothing more than a dark and empty shell? Yes, I am expressionless
and blank, no more than a husk; unworthy and most of all,
unlovable.

But the voice calls to me to remember. It
lures me forward with its gentleness. The closer I get, the more I
start to remember that I once did live and more than anything I
want to live again. If only I can figure out how…

* * *

“Mom? Where are you? Mom?”

Mason surged upright, coming instantly
awake. The afternoon sun was warm on the pillow. He glanced at his
watch. It was a little after three. He must have dozed off after
making love to Belle.

The memory of their magical moment of
intimacy was burned forever into his brain. It had been almost all
that he’d hoped for. All that had been missing was the words.
Whenever he’d fantasized about them coming together, it had always
resulted in both of them declaring their undying love.

But one look at the tears rolling silently
down Belle’s cheeks and the words he so desperately wanted to say
were sealed in his mouth. To make matters worse, she’d thanked him;
like she was
grateful
for his attention.

He hadn’t been looking for her gratitude.
People were grateful when someone held open the door for them while
they were laden down with shopping. They were grateful for a nice
meal someone had taken the time to prepare. They weren’t grateful
for someone making love to them. It just wasn’t right.

“Mom! Where are you?” The child’s voice had
gotten more strident and it was enough to wake Isobel at his
side.

“Ben? What’s the matter, honey?” she said,
her voice still clouded with sleep. A minute later, as if becoming
aware of where she was and who she was with, she snapped to
attention and came upright with a gasp. Holding the sheet up to her
chest, she looked at Mason, her eyes wide.

“Oh, my goodness! Ben’s right outside the
door! What was I thinking? Quick! Do something! Get dressed! Get
out of here.”

Mason chuckled, completely unperturbed.
“It’s my bedroom, remember? I’m allowed to be in here.”

“Yes, but not with me and not with the two
of us naked.” She blushed to the roots of her hair and he couldn’t
help but think how adorable she looked. And panicked. Taking pity
on her, he climbed out of bed, collected his clothes off the floor
and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

He heard muffled voices coming from the
other side of the bathroom door and assumed Ben had found his
mother. He wished he was privy to their conversation. It would have
been interesting to hear what explanation she gave her young son
about how she’d found herself in Mason’s bed.

Pulling on the last of his clothing, Mason
cracked open the door. The room had fallen silent and he was
relieved to discover Ben was no longer in the room. Isobel had
thrown the bedcovers aside. She’d pulled on her underwear and was
hastily throwing on her dress.

“Where’s Ben?” he asked as he walked back
into the room.

“He’s in the kitchen. He woke and couldn’t
find me. He got a little panicky.” A guilty expression appeared on
her face.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault, Belle.
What did you say to him?”

She averted her gaze. “I told him I was
tired and I’d fallen asleep in the wrong bed.”

“Did he wonder why you were naked?”

A wave of crimson traveled up from her neck
and spread across her cheeks. “He didn’t say anything. I kept the
covers pulled right up. I don’t think he noticed.”

Mason ignored her embarrassment. Moving
closer, he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “I’ll go and rustle up
something to eat. I skipped lunch and I’m starving.” He turned
toward the door.

“Mason, about what happened…”

Now it was his turn to panic.
Was she
about to express her gratitude again, or worse, tell him they’d
made a mistake?

“It’s all right, Belle. We don’t need to
talk about it. I understand what you’ve been through. Throwing
yourself into another relationship’s the last thing you want to do.
And it probably isn’t the wisest course of action, either,” he
forced himself to add.

The tension in her face eased and he
clenched his jaw tight against the pain. She didn’t deny it. And by
that she wasn’t reinforcing anything he didn’t already know—but
dammit, why did it have to hurt so much? He’d waited for her his
entire life and still the timing wasn’t right. He couldn’t help but
wonder if it ever would.

No, he refused to go there.
He
wouldn’t let negative thoughts intrude. He loved her with
everything that he was. He had to have faith that one day she might
feel the same.

“I appreciate your understanding,” she said
quietly. “My life feels like it’s been through a tumble dryer,
tossing me from side to side. I’m not yet convinced I’ll survive
the ordeal or that when I emerge there’ll be anything left of me to
give. You deserve so much better than that, Mason. You deserve so
much better than
me
.”

Tenderness and love flooded through him and
he couldn’t help but reach for her and pull her into his arms. She
offered no resistance and leaned her head against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Mason,” she whispered. “I’m so
sorry. I’m broken beyond repair. You need to get over me and find
someone else who can love you like you deserve. I’m not that woman.
I have nothing to offer you. I can’t imagine ever trusting a man
completely again.”

He heard the emotion in her voice and could
tell she was close to tears. He tightened his arms around her and
leaned his chin on her head. Her hair was soft and clean and
smelled of some kind of berry shampoo. She fit so well against him.
He refused to believe the two of them weren’t meant to be
together.

“Let’s just take one day at a time, okay? No
pressure. I’ll give you all the time you need. We’ll find a
reputable therapist. Someone who specializes in this kind of thing.
I’m sure it will help. And if and when it’s time, and you want me
to, I’ll come along too. And I’ll also ask around for a good
lawyer. The sooner you talk to someone about putting things in
motion with regard to the kids and your marriage, the better.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him,
her expression telling him she remained unconvinced it would be
that simple, but to his relief, she didn’t argue. Instead, she
thanked him once again.

“Would you please stop thanking me?” he
said, doing his best to curb his irritation. “You asked me for
help. I gave it willingly, like anyone would. I’m no one special.
I’m just a guy who cares for you and who wants to see you safe and
happy.”

She shook her head slowly back and forth.
“You’re wrong, Mason Alexander.”

He frowned. “About what?”

“You’re more than special. You’re kind and
generous and caring and I’m—” Her voice caught on the emotion
behind her words. She cleared her throat. “And I’m proud and so
very lucky to be able to call you my friend.”

Friends.
That’s all they were? Too
bad he wanted her friendship even less than he wanted her
gratitude, but he did his best to accept her offer gracefully.
After all, she was still in his arms, wasn’t she? As long as he
could keep her close, there was hope.

As if reading his thoughts, she extricated
herself and moved away from him. Reaching up, she ran her fingers
through her hair in an effort to restore it to some form of order.
“I need to go and check on the kids.”

He nodded. The moment was gone. With a quiet
sigh, he opened the door and headed toward the kitchen.

* * *

Isobel plastered a smile on her face and
hurried into the open-concept kitchen and living room. Since
arriving at Mason’s apartment the day before, she hadn’t really had
time to explore or to appreciate the simple beauty of his home.
Classic pieces of furniture filled the small but comfortable
space.

She smoothed her hand over the square dining
table with four chairs that stood off to one side, opposite the
breakfast bar. On the other side of the room, a modular couch the
color of pale butter was positioned opposite a flat screen TV that
was mounted on the wall. A coffee table squatted in the middle of a
large square of white carpet with an assortment of fishing and
boating magazines spread across its polished wood surface.

She crossed the living room to the double
sliding doors leading to the balcony. All of a sudden, looking at
her reflection in the glass, she remembered the vitriolic message
from Nigel and just like that, her fear returned.

Was he still furious with her? Would he
hunt her down, like he promised?
Of course he was and of course
he would.

The Nigel she knew didn’t give up easily and
was immensely possessive of his things. And that’s what she was to
him. A possession. Something he claimed. Something he controlled. A
shiver ran down her spine and she quickly turned away to find Mason
watching her from the kitchen, a frown of concern on his face.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, in deference
to Sophie and Ben who sat at the table nearby.

She shook her head, as much to dislodge the
disquieting thoughts as to respond to him. “It’s nothing. I’m
fine.” Forcing a smile, she turned to her children. “So, who’s
ready for an afternoon treat?”

“Me! Me!” they called in unison, with
identical grins. She smiled back at them and sent a silent prayer
of thanks heavenward that they didn’t seem affected by recent
events, despite the trauma they’d both been through.

She’d taken the time to explain to them
earlier when they’d arrived back at Mason’s about what was
happening and why their dad was so upset. She tried to keep it
light and simple, but the fact was, Ben had seen Nigel hit her and
both children had witnessed the awful scene outside their house.
Coupled with the presence of a police officer, it was obvious,
especially to Ben, things had deteriorated to a level far more
frightening than he’d ever guessed.