Ever Man
By Kathryn Allen
Copyright 2011-2012 Kathryn Allen
rev 1
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover design by Kerry Duff
Acknowledgements
I want to acknowledge everyone who has supported me in my writing over the years and on this book specifically. In particular I’d like to thank my husband John, my sisters Tracey and Kerry and all the people who read the various drafts and gave me feedback and picked up my typos. I won’t list you all, you know who you are.
'If this is a dream, I want to sleep forever' used with the kind permission of Todd Smith.
And to the girls of the Gorgeous Girls Book Club, here it is finally! Thank you for everything!
Kathryn Allen
PROLOGUE
Stepping carefully onto the rocky ledge Itain edged his bare back against the grainy, pitted surface of the stone and felt the magic in the rock flow through him like adrenalin in his blood. High above him the moon hung as a sliver of brilliant light in the empty blackness of the night sky. Despite the slenderness of the moon’s presence it seemed to effortlessly outshine the stars. Taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool night air he leant away from the rocky outcrop and looked out over the valley. Mist gathered in the lowest reaches of the valley which stretched almost from the foot of the outcrop to the edge of the western horizon laying between two spectacular sweeps of volcanic cliffs. Within three paces of where he stood the rocky ledge ended abruptly, dropping almost five hundred feet to the valley floor to an ancient pile of shaley rubble. Soon winter would start to creep down from the mountains above him and coat the hillsides in snow and ice would close the rivers which the tribe relied on for its survival. Sooner still the Trial would be held to weed out the old men who were no longer strong enough in their magic to be of use to the tribe. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about it but it was constantly in his mind.
"Itain."
He turned his head at the sound of the voice and sharpened his sight so he could see the person half hidden in shadow of the outcrop. It was Ralia, an Elder, one of the strongest and most respected people in the tribe. The woman stepped out of the gloom and stood at the edge of the ledge.
"I hope you were not intending to throw yourself down there." She said with a vague wave at the drop. "You know it’s forbidden."
"I wasn’t thinking anything like that. I was just enjoying the night." He assured her.
"Hmm. We’ll be moving south soon and I don’t think we’ll return to this place, Itain. The summers and springs are growing colder and winter comes earlier each year. So. Enjoy the night but don’t stay too long. There is much to be done at the camp."
As she left, Itain felt her optimism that he would even be around to care where they went the following season was misplaced. He knew he was not as strong as he used to be. His tribe-mate Emerlie had been questioning his worth for some time even without the weakening of age. It had never helped that she was much younger than he or that the man she had hoped the tribe would have chosen for her mate had been his brother. He sighed deeply and turned to go, tracing his hand along the gritty stone surface so that the magic of the earth tingled in his fingertips. Abruptly he stopped. He could hear the Elder arguing with another man and an instant later, he recognised the other voice. Folet. He extended his hearing to clarify the words and discovered that Folet was continuing his campaign to be chosen as an Elder when the vacancy arose. The man in question was not expected to live for more than another two seasons at the most but the choosing of an Elder was a mysterious affair, explicable only to other Elders and it was considered extremely rude to put oneself forth as an option. Such rules rarely deterred Folet who was determined to become Chief Elder even though the path to that rank was even more obscure than that of becoming an Elder. Itain didn’t know why Folet was still trying after all these years, after all he was only a few years younger than Itain and soon his own powers would be fading as well. The argument was ended by a few sharp words from the Elder and Itain could feel the fury and frustration heating Folet’s vicious mind. That would not be the last of the matter, he was sure.
CHAPTER ONE
Dingli Cliffs, Malta - 1980
Beth Ellison edged forward to try to get a better view down to the ocean without tumbling down into it. The stones beneath her booted feet shifted slightly and she hurriedly stepped back. She looked to her right along the Malta coastline. From where she stood she could see a tower of some sort with a domed roof on one headland. A lighthouse maybe? She looked down at the ocean again. There didn’t seem to be a reef, the mass of the sea just switched straight to those incredible cliffs. It was astoundingly beautiful. Shifting her gaze again she saw the stone edged terraces the local farmers had built over the years to force arable land from the slopes. It was so different from her suburban London life she could have been on another planet. She grinned as she thought about that. Here she was in Malta, the first overseas trip on a very long wish list of destinations and she was almost thrumming with the excitement of it. She wondered if it was a hereditary thing. Hoped it was in a way. She’d grown up on stories of her great grandmother who spent less than two months together at her home for more than forty years. Apparently she came home to bear her children in an English hospital before traipsing off again with the new child slung from her shoulders. Four children were brought up this way. According to family legend she’d even managed to sneak into the Forbidden City in the days when the Last Emperor of China came to the throne. Beth loved the thought of that sort of life filled with adventure and stories. She looked up and down the coast line again and then glanced back at the group of strangers who had also booked this hiking tour. This was the first step. All she needed was someone to share it with.
London – spring 1982
It was this memory that inexplicably struck her as she stood next to the man she loved, looking at a clockmaker’s stand at the Camden Markets. She shook the thought away and lifted one of the clocks which had been carved into a sinuous semi-teardrop shape.
"Wow, how beautiful is this? I mean, just look at the shape of this one. And it’s canarywood, whatever that is." It took Beth a moment to realise that Thomas wasn’t listening to her. She lay the clock back down among its neighbours and turned to Thomas’s examination on another clock. His long fingers ran along the turned timber edge of the clock, over and over as if he was trying to memorise the simple shape.
"Thomas? Hello?" Beth asked after a moment of watching Thomas trace the circular clock. "Thomas Gallaway, are you listening to me?"
He raised his head vaguely.
"What are you thinking?" His interest bewildered her in the face of far more interesting and exotic specimens. The glossily polished free form timber slabs with inlaid ebony numbers were more her style although way beyond her budget.
He laid the clock down alongside the others on the market stall bench without looking at her. "I was thinking how right it seemed that clocks are so often round. Cyclical, you know, like time. Starting and ending, over and over again. Without end."
She frowned at his pensive tone. "Are you okay? I mean, you’ve been a bit…I don’t know…kind of distant I suppose today."
He seemed to pull himself together and managed a smile as he gathered her to him tightly. "I’m sorry, sweet, I don’t mean to be."
Under her cheek Beth felt the soft bumps and hollows of his cable-knit jumper and the hard muscles beneath. Drawing in a breath she smelt the sharp, spicy scent of his aftershave, evoking thoughts of exotic places he had described in such detail that she felt she had been there even as she longed to visit them. He had promised to show them to her next year when he had his leave from the Navy. She drew away to look up at his face. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?"
Thomas’s eyes flickered. "Yes of course I would. Come on, let’s get some lunch."
As he took her hand and led her away she cast a quick glance back at the clocks on the bench but was none the wiser as to what had sparked his odd mood. She wondered suddenly if her mother had said something to him, made some reference to his age maybe that had started to make him think about that. He looked down at her at that moment, his dark eyes devouring her, and squeezed her hand. Forgetting everything else she smiled back feeling supremely warm and loved.
By the time they sat down to lunch in a little café off Camden Road his mood had crept back and Beth found herself tensing as though she was bracing against the wind.
"I don’t mean to worry you." Thomas said suddenly. Beth stared at him in surprise, she didn’t realise her feelings were showing that clearly.
"I didn’t mean to worry." She said with a sheepish smile. She suddenly thought he must think her so child-like to fear one subdued day. So much for the sophistication she was desperately trying to exude.
He reached over the chipped sugar pot and polyester pansies to take her hands. His thumb brushed against the top of her left hand. "One day I’ll tell you about it, I promise."
Her smile faded. "So there is something wrong."
He sighed. "No, nothing wrong, just something from years ago that bothers me sometimes. I shouldn’t have said anything at all."
"No, no, I want you to tell me the truth always. I don’t want any lies between us, ever."
There was a stillness to him then and he was silent for a very long time, so long that she thought she might faint from her held breath. As if in echo the creeping clouds chose that moment to hide the sun and she felt the slight drop in temperature through her light cardigan.
"Then one day I will tell you everything." A brilliant smile appeared on his face as though it had surfaced through the depression in his heart and he released her hands. "There, that’s enough of that. Look, let’s go somewhere nicer than this. Somewhere with matching salt and pepper shakers perhaps."
The condiment accessories did more than match at the next restaurant, they seemed to be designed by the same person who did the crystal glasses with a twist in their elegant stems. Unfazed by the unremarkable exterior Thomas had guided them into a stylish eatery with white linen draped tables and discreetly attentive wait staff.
"Thomas, this is a bit flash for lunch isn’t it?" Beth leant across the table to murmur at him. "I mean, look at the table setting. We don’t have that much cutlery in our kitchen at home."
"Well, I guess it’s just their way of saying we’re okay with you ordering everything on the menu if you want. And that’s what I’m saying too. I saw you looking at the prices."
"Well, did you see them?"
"Yes. And don’t worry about it. My treat."
She did worry of course, although she knew that Thomas was far from struggling when it came to money. She didn’t want to seem like a leech but then she didn’t want to miss any opportunity to experience his life with him either. They had already talked of wide ranging travel, skating across the world’s seas and lands to see it all. Even without concrete plans she felt that welling excitement inside at the thought of standing in places she had never stood before and breathing in a whole new world of air. She had dreamt of travel as a child and she remembered the first time she realised she probably wouldn’t have the time in her life to see every inch of the globe even if she travelled constantly.
"Oh, I got something for you. It’s nothing special though." He dug around in his pocket and handed her a small package carefully wrapped in gold paper. It sat neatly in her palm and her hand dipped slightly at the unexpected weight. Despite his words she found herself having to suppress her excitement as she slid her fingernail under the first fold of the package. It was a gold compact with a message to her engraved on the cover. ‘Dearest Beth, Thinking of you always, Love Thomas.’
"You told me you’d broken your other one."
"Thomas, thank you! That’s so thoughtful. It’s even my brand."
"I know." He leant forward. "I went through your handbag which I know is a very risky thing for any man to do."
"You are keen."
He smiled his slow smile and her heart blossomed. "With you in front of me how could I be anything else?"
A waiter appeared at his elbow and as she watched him discuss the wine menu, Beth felt an incredible sense of pleasure. The inscription said it all really.
When she made a brief stop at home for a change of clothes later in the afternoon, her brother Gary bailed her up in the scullery when she’d gone to hunt out her tights.
"Going out again, Beth? You’re never home these days."
She grinned. "Got better places to be. Anyway, you can’t talk - you’re going to be going away for months on end when you get posted somewhere."
"True. And so with Thomas."
Her smile disappeared for an instant. "Well, all the more reason to enjoy the time we’ve got now."
"Hmmm. I know you’ve got the hots for Thomas and everything but are you really sure about this? He’s older than you, by a long shot. And I mean he’s usually a bit, I don’t know, a bit tired I guess. Not usually that interested in anything."
She thought of the compact. "Well, he’s interested in me."
Gary seemed unconvinced but didn’t pursue it.
Back at Thomas’s house that evening, the object of their discussions drew her in as though he had not seen her in weeks. In the hall, he helped her from her long, burgundy wool coat – a gift he had given her within days of meeting her – and kissed her soundly. She adored the way he welcomed her in and just the feeling of his strong, warm hands on her arms made her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t felt since her father died.
As Thomas hung her coat beside his tan overcoat and bright red scarf on the polished timber hooks on the wall, she caught sight of herself in the gilt edged mirror above the hall stand. The wind had whipped her long curly hair into a wilder mess than usual and she wished she’d thought to tie it back. All through her childhood she had tried to disguise her copper-red tresses by braiding them into submission but now big curls were in and women were paying enormous sums of money to have the kind of hair she’d loathed since she could remember.
The chill had also brought a flush to her pale cheeks and in the mirror the deep blue eyes looking back at her didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the face. She looked away hurriedly, knowing that if she dwelt on how she looked she would lose all confidence in herself and probably ruin the evening. Turning her attention to Thomas instead was easy. He was an attractive man normally and tonight was wearing a dark blue woollen top with long sleeves which seemed to mould itself to every curve and muscle of his torso. Three deep breaths Beth, she told herself firmly.
Following him through to the kitchen she revelled again in his beautiful house. He had decorated his home lightly with a few choice period pieces, artefacts from across the globe and otherwise with clean lined modern furniture. It exuded warmth and comfort. Although Beth had been there once before, she was flattered that he had gone to extra effort to tidy up and add a few touches he correctly guessed she would like, such as the candles on the table set classically for two and the fire in the hearth as opposed to relying on the central heating. As she put her handbag on the kitchen bench, she heard a glassy sort of click and something fell to the floor.
"What’s this?" she asked, scooping up a crystal pendulum from the tiles before he could even move. She hung it from her long fingers for him to see and its polished facets spun spectrums of colours across the walls. His eyes betrayed a flicker of irritation before he dismissed its presence with a far too casual voice.
"That? It’s just some promotion thing, like a decoration you hang on your wall or something. I got it free when I bought a guide book about Stonehenge when I went there a couple of months ago."
She wondered if his brief annoyance was due to her knocking it off the counter or the fact that he’d been given it in the first place and glanced down at the counter to the battered guidebook on the Stonehenge area laying beside a bowl of fruit. "Oh. I guess it’s more original than an ‘I love Stonehenge’ sticker."
Thomas agreed almost distractedly, then took it from her fingers so swiftly it was almost a snatching movement. He shifted the pendulum and the Stonehenge book into the pantry and when he turned back to her she had the odd impression that he wanted to change the subject. To ease the sudden tension she offered to help him prepare dinner and as he accepted, his mood was so light she wondered briefly if she had imagined the whole thing.
He handed her a punnet of strawberries and a knife and pointed her in the direction of the blender.
Thomas went back to chopping some herbs and she stood still for a moment, feeling the strangeness of being in his kitchen, using his things and being part of the dinner they were preparing together. He hadn’t seemed to notice her confusion, like he had expected her to be comfortable as a participant not just a guest in his home. She moved to the sink and started cleaning the strawberries, acutely aware that only a few steps away one of the most gorgeous men she had even known was making a meal for them to share. Thomas had told her when they first met that he enjoyed cooking and while she had never expected to have the chance to taste it, she had been charmed by the idea.
She thought again of that first meeting only a few weeks ago when she stood by Gary, newly appointed to his ship in the Royal Navy, as he proudly introduced his sister to another officer, Thomas Gallaway. The gorgeous Thomas had extended his hand to hers, shook it and then held it for a moment longer than was strictly polite. When she touched her fingers to her hair to push it away from her face, she felt his warmth still emanating from her skin. She flushed and he smiled at that, his eyes alight with interest and attraction and his mouth curving easily into a smooth smile.
"Beth, was it? Very pleased to meet you, Beth." The sound of her name on his lips was more enchanting than she had ever heard it said. "Please tell me you’re local."
"Well, yes, to London anyway. At the moment I’m still at home with Gary and Mum in Chelsea but," she hesitated, not wanting him to think she was young, "I’m sure I’ll be moving out soon."
"Oh?" His interest had retreated a little in his eyes. "You’ve got plans? Moving in with someone?"
She cocked a playful eyebrow. "And what sort of questions do you ask when you know people for more than five minutes?"
His smile widened and he acknowledged her point with a rueful nod. "I didn’t mean to pry, but I can’t say I’m not interested in knowing the answer."
She was flattered and couldn’t think of a way to hide it so she simply smiled back as she gathered her thoughts. "I’m ready to move out so it’s just a matter of getting a place. I don’t have anyone lined up right at this moment but you never know."
At this signal that the flirting had begun, Gary excused himself with an embarrassed expression and scuttled off. Beth barely noticed he was gone and had spent the next two and a half hours wrapped up in Thomas’s company asking and answering questions that she would never have imagined verbalising so quickly to a stranger. She found herself telling him about her father's death, her confusion about what she was going to do as a career in comparison to some of her friends who had high powered jobs in mind and weirdly about some of the men, boys really, she had dated over her teenage years. He was a most attentive listener although she much preferred to hear him speak. His voice was deep and warm like hot chocolate and he could make the most banal thing sound sexy and inviting.
"I don't know why I even went out with Steve." She admitted, having just confessed about a particularly embarrassing incident with a date who managed to get himself evicted from a restaurant for drunkenness. "Must have been getting desperate."
"Ah, so you're not desperate now? That's a pity." Thomas sighed a little theatrically.
"Are you saying you like desperate women?" she asked. "From my point of view that's not a good sign."
"Well, I'm afraid when you get to my age you have to take every opportunity."
"Your age?" she raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask what that might be?"
"Dare away."
At her tilted head invitation, he leant towards her and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Forty."
Beth couldn't hide the surprise on her face and could tell from his eyes that he had read it as well. She had known he was older than her but had not suspected by that much. Still, after the initial shock had receded she discovered that she didn't care that he was twice her age. She liked the look of him and he clearly liked the look of her. Her normal caution was thrown deliberately to the wind and she returned his patient smile.
"Well, I have to say, you look very good for your age." She said, feeling the blush rise from the base of her throat at her boldness.
His smile widened and his eyes warmed. "Thank you, Beth. I rather think I could get used to this sort of conversation."
By the end of the night, Beth had lined up a number of other get togethers with Thomas of which this dinner was just one.
She grinned to herself at the memory and was still smiling when she turned away from the counter with two parfait glasses filled with a strawberry and champagne blend and found Thomas watching her with an intense, questioning expression. She stopped, her smile fading, and waited for some signal as to what she had done. Was he reconsidering having her here, had she missed something he had said while she was thinking about their first meeting? Please say something, she pleaded mentally. He seemed to hear her entreaty because his expression softened to something like hopeful uncertainty.
"Beth, I was thinking. Would you like to meet my parents next weekend? I’d love to share you with them."
She almost cheered with relief, nothing was wrong. Things were better in fact. "Of course, I’d love to. Are they doing okay?" she asked. He had told her that his parents, Robert and Myfanwy, were getting on in age and in health too.
"Mam’s fine at the moment. Dad’s not so well." Thomas told her as he sprinkled a little of the chopped herbs over the pasta dishes in front of him. "Every so often he gets all belligerent about being sick and refuses to take his medication."
"Well, I know it’s not good for him but I can’t say I blame him. The novelty of having to take tablets every day would’ve had to have worn off years ago." She said. Even though she’d only been on the Pill for five years, she was already thoroughly sick of the daily routine and felt she could completely understand his father’s attitude.
After slotting the finished parfait glasses in the freezer she followed Thomas over to the table where he set down the plates and then pulled out the chair so she could sit down, as though he was the waiter in a classy restaurant. It was a sweet gesture and very natural coming from him. The last three men she dated probably would have wanted to race her to the table and probably elbow her out of the way if necessary to get to the food. Thomas was so very different.
"You know, I hope your parents like me." She said, feeling a bit silly for admitting to it. She caught his considering look across the candles.
"Beth, of course they’ll like you; they’ll love you. Just be yourself. That’s all you can be." That seemed to make him think of something else because he stiffened for a moment then sort of twitched his head like he was flinging away a thought. She watched this strangeness in silence and when he refocussed on her a moment later he carried on as though nothing had happened.
"I want to take you to their place, it’s nothing flash but it’s where I grew up in London. I have some wonderful memories of it. And some not so good, of course. They moved there just after my older brother died after a bad bout of pneumonia. I think he was three or four. My family has never been very healthy unfortunately."
"I’m sorry, I didn’t know." She said softly. "You’re okay, aren’t you?"
"So far. Mam and Dad have had a pretty hard time of it and you know I went travelling for almost ten years off and on before I went into the Navy so I haven’t really been around for them, as much as I probably should have anyway."
She was touched by his consideration to his parents. His sensitivity added to his charm and she adored him completely.
After dinner they talked for a while as they ate the deserts she had made, sitting close together on his bright red couch before the fire. When Beth turned her head to look at him, she saw the orange of the firelight glance off the streaks of grey in Thomas’s otherwise glossy black hair. It was not a flaw though, more of an accent feature than anything else. His age didn’t bother her at all, even though he had lived twice the time of her life.
"What are you looking at?" he asked her curiously. She quickly shifted her gaze down to his dark eyes.
"Just you."
"And do you like what you see?"
"Yes." She smiled. "Actually I do." The strawberry and champagne parfaits that she had made were a lot stronger than she had expected but she was more excited than concerned about what it might give her the courage to do. It was a strange feeling to be this close to such a gorgeous man in his house and having her whole body almost tingle with pins and needles.
Thomas took the empty parfait glasses back into the kitchen and when he returned, he dropped back onto the couch next to her. His fingers slid down one side of her face and she could feel her heart trip straight to hammer. If she were more experienced she’d know how to react she thought and her old insecurities flooded back.
"You don’t know what’s going to happen next, do you? And that worries you." he said softly.
God, am I that transparent, she thought embarrassed and opened her mouth only to have him lay his fingers over her lips.
"Don’t say anything, you don’t have to explain. I’m rushing you."
He wasn’t really but she didn’t know whether she was ready for the next step just yet. She was worried that he would find her too boring and inexperienced if they actually did make love. She had only had one other real sexual partner before and he had been as unsure as her so the whole experience had been rather unsatisfying. Somehow she knew that Thomas would be different but she was not certain that she would be.
"I guess I should go." she said reluctantly.
Thomas watched her in silence for a moment then nodded. "If that’s what you want."
Her spirits sank. It wasn’t but she didn’t know how to verbalise what she did want essentially because she didn’t really know herself. He followed her to the hallway where she was putting on her coat and didn’t speak at all as she walked towards the door. She wanted him to call her back or say something but she guessed he was trying not to influence her. His respect for her and her choices made her feel very adult. She put her hand on the doorknob and the other on the architrave beside the door and felt the strangely patterned wood under her fingers. Oddly the feeling of the wood against her skin distracted her and she stopped moving. She didn’t want to leave and go back to her cold bed in her own home. In a fluid movement she turned on the spot so that her back was against the door.
Thomas had not moved, he simply watched her with his intense, dark eyes. She stepped away from the door, slipped off her coat, let it fall unnoticed to the floor and walked down the hallway to where Thomas stood.
"If you stay, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to show restraint." He warned her, his voice a little rough in the stillness of the hallway.
"Maybe you won’t have to." She whispered then flushed at how forward that sounded. She felt strange, like she was on the edge of something and kind of thrilled and anxious at the same time.
He extended his hand to her, palm upwards in offering. For a moment a tiny voice in her mind argued against what she knew she was going to do then she did it anyway. She placed her hand in his and felt the long fingers close around hers and the next minute she was standing in front of him, almost touching his body less than a hand span away. Straight in front of her eyes was his throat and she could see his quick heart beat in the pulse on the side of his neck.
Knowing that she affected him as much as he did her made her feel sexy and she enjoyed his tremor when she reached out with her free hand and traced his skin from the edge of his sharp jaw to the collar of his woollen top. Beneath the fabric she could feel the bump of a necklace.
He laid a hand on each side of her face, his eyes devouring her features as though he was never going to see her again. Very slowly, still watching her intensely he dipped his head until his lips were a breath away from hers.
"Tell me to stop if you don’t want this." He murmured. Stop? She thought muzzily, you can’t be serious. "No, don’t stop." she managed, when she realised he was waiting for a response. He smiled slightly and crossed the slight space between them in achingly slow motion. As his lips touched hers, she felt every nerve ending tingle and a flood of heat enveloped her. Almost as much to keep on her feet as to touch him, her hands caught handfuls of his shirt, her fingers burying deep into the soft fabric. Her touch, even through the shirt, made him shudder and almost groan in the midst of their kiss. He drew back from her, taking deep breaths to try to steady the rapid movement of his chest. She wondered if she looked as flushed as he did and guessed, if anything with her complexion, she’d look worse. When he dropped his hands from her face to her hands, her cheeks felt strangely cold despite the heat of her body.
"Come here." He led her closer to the fire, to where a rug of funky modern design overlay the carpet. As she stood there he sank to his knees and ran his hands down her legs to her shoes which he slipped from her feet. "Come down here with me."
Such an offer she had no desire to refuse. As they kissed again she snuck one hand up underneath his shirt to run her fingers against the hard muscles of his torso. His moan gave her the encouragement she wanted and her other hand crept up to join the other before she tugged the shirt up over his head. The sight of him sitting in front of her half naked, muscles bathed in the glow of the nearby fire made her almost faint. She saw then the necklace that she had felt under his top and it was like a thumbnail sized version of the architraves around the front door. He seemed to realise her attention to it and quickly unfastened it and tossed it on the couch. She promptly forgot about it and reached out to trace a line from the centre of his chest to the point where his skin met the button of his jeans while he watched with a glint in his eyes and a slight smile on his lips. Then he took the investigating hand in his and brought it to his lips where he kissed each fingertip lingeringly one after the other.
By this time she was shaking and he seemed to enjoy her reaction. Unable to bear the sensation on her over sensitive fingertips any longer she replaced her hand with her lips and for a while all they could do was cling to each other as they kissed. Eventually though Thomas moved his mouth to her throat as his hands moved to unbutton her shirt. Before she was even aware of it his hands were caressing her back beneath her shirt.
In a matter of moments they were both naked, Beth stunned at the speed of it all but she had no desire to slow it down. Before her, wrapped around her, was an impossibly gorgeous man and for once she felt self aware as opposed to self conscious. His obvious desire for her killed off her normal doubts and insecurities and in that flickering golden light she felt sensual and powerful as she never had before. Then he reached for her again and she couldn’t think at all. The lovemaking went on all night between pockets of sleep then one or the other would start up again and neither argued.
In the vague light of morning Beth stirred and half rolled over to find Thomas propped up on one elbow watching her. She gazed at him for a moment from under heavy lids then laid her hand against his face and he closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch.
"If this is a dream, I want to sleep forever." She murmured as though she was quoting.
His eyes opened slowly. "What’s that?" he asked quietly.
"I used to go to school with a boy who did poetry. It’s a line from something he wrote. I thought it was very romantic."
"It is." He agreed and hesitated as he opened his mouth. She smiled at him and waited for him to say whatever was on his mind but it seemed that he decided to keep it to himself. If she was more awake she would have asked him about it but instead she just rolled back over, snuggling down into the bed clothes.
It was late when Beth woke again. Beside her, with one arm laid out forming her pillow was Thomas, his dark eyes shielded by his closed lids and long lashes. She knew all she had to do was brush her thumb against his lips to wake him and his desire again but she was exhausted and a little stiff from the night-long loving. She was also starvingly hungry. Her slight movement as she sat up didn’t wake him and she took the opportunity to examine him. He really was gorgeous and naked, doubly so. Remembering the intimacy of the night before she flushed but didn’t try to put the memory out of her head. As she sat there considering him, he opened one eye and then the other and smiled his slow grin.
"Good morning, beautiful." He said softly. "Did you sleep well?"
"On and off." She smiled.
"Ah. I quite enjoyed the off parts." He grinned and her flush heightened.
Thomas made Beth a belated breakfast of toast, soft boiled eggs and fragrant Earl Grey tea and watching him potter around his neat kitchen, preparing and serving food just for her, Beth’s heart nearly burst out of her chest. He was absolutely perfect.
When he collected her dishes to wash them she wandered off into the hallway meaning to pick up her coat from where she had dropped it last night. Standing at the end of the hallway she was surprised to see it already hanging on the polished timber hooks by the doorway. She didn’t remember Thomas going in there, in fact he hadn’t been out of her sight since they woke up and she certainly didn’t remember hanging it up. But of course it was on the wall so someone must have done it and if it wasn’t her, then logically it must have been Thomas.
"Thomas, did you hang up my coat?" she asked, despite her commonsense mental explanation. There was a pause before he answered.
"Yeah, I picked it up last night. Why’s that?"
"Nothing, I just must have forgotten that." She wondered why she wasn’t convinced. Was it just that she hadn’t realised he had left her long enough during the night to come down stairs to hang up her coat? Why did it matter? Thomas poked his head around the corner of the kitchen doorway and looked at her quizzically. She gave him an embarrassed smile and headed back into the kitchen.
Later, after they had finally dragged themselves out of the house, they went back to the Camden markets in search of a birthday present for Beth’s best friend Janina. As they walked together around the stalls, Thomas’s arm was often draped comfortably around Beth’s shoulders. Despite her 176 centimetre height he was marginally taller which Beth was sure was part of the attraction. The other men she had dated tended to be slightly shorter than her and it accentuated any childlike behaviour they exhibited. Thomas was so unlike any of them. None of the others would have agreed willingly to the trip to the markets, let alone taken an active interest in the stalls. None would have been as helpful either to the elderly couple they came across just beyond the first stall.
She had been surprised when Thomas had disengaged himself from her hand and wandered over to the Asian couple who were looking very lost, clutching a crumpled London map. Surprise had turned to astonishment when she heard him engage them in their own tongue which she only knew as something Asian but he told her later was Burmese. He had overheard them fretting about how they would find their way back to their son’s house, having only arrived in the country the day before. In their language he gave them directions, even drawing the easier route for them on their map. When he returned to her, she expressed amazement at his unexpected gift but he just shrugged.
"I picked up a bit in my travels." He explained briefly, seeming uninterested in what she considered an impressive skill. Although she didn’t know exactly the level of his knowledge, she guessed that it was pretty high considering he had not only understood what the couple were saying but had apparently spoken their language fluently. She had seen that his house was highlighted with treasures from around the world but he had never mentioned collecting languages as well.
They had almost passed a stall selling old fashioned breads, pies and other baked goods when Thomas stopped and guided her back to it.
"God, look at this." He said, apparently very pleased with his discovery.
The stallholder, who to Beth’s amused eye appeared to be dressed as Maid Marion, rose to her feet at Thomas’s attention. "All made like they did way back before the Middle Ages, without machines of any kind. No additives, or chemicals or anything like that."
To Beth’s surprise Thomas picked up one of the misshapen loafs and broke it apart. A strong yeasty smell rose into the air. Beside her, she felt him grow still.
"What’s the matter?" she asked touching him lightly on the arm after a moment. He turned to her vaguely like a man coming out of a pleasant dream.
"Nothing really. It’s just that I haven’t smelt this sort of bread for a very long time and it brought back some memories."
She looked down at the bread in his hands and wondered where he had been to smell and probably taste such roughly ground bread.
"Will you tell me about what you were thinking of?" she asked, feeling suddenly excluded. He had been to many places without her, travelled widely and experienced things then that she would never really be a part of even if they went again together. She wished that she had been older and met him earlier so she could have been there in his memory too when the bread awakened it. He seemed to guess what she was thinking and smiled warmly at her.
"Of course. But none of it was as good as being here with you now. Let’s have more of a look around." He slid the bread into the bag the stall holder offered him, paid the woman and took Beth’s hand as they moved away. It was only later that Beth realised that he had evaded rather than answered her question.
As they dined together a week later in a tastefully crowded upmarket restaurant in the city Beth and Thomas reflected on the very successful introduction of Beth to Thomas’s parents that morning. Myfanwy welcomed her as though Thomas had never brought a woman home before and Robert, while reserved seemed pleased with his son’s choice. The visit had been squeezed in with other activities as Myfanwy and Robert were leaving soon for a three month holiday in the remoter islands of the Pacific. Thomas had told Beth that they were taking the opportunity to go while their health still permitted it and she had sensed his fear that he would soon lose them both. Myfanwy had seemed in good spirits though, and Beth had been amused by the older woman’s reaction to her.
"Hadn’t your mum ever seen you with a girl before?" Beth teased.
He grinned at her and then made a show of looking thoughtful. "Well, I usually take them to my house, you know, rather than Mam and Dad’s. I mean, they cramp my style." She laughed at him and shook her head. He was watching her again, she noticed as she lifted her wine glass, with his steady, almost adoring gaze that made her feel bizarrely like she was being worshipped. She remembered Myfanwy taking her hands and whispering to her that it’d been a long time since Thomas had had such a taste for life. When she placed the glass back on the ivory damask tablecloth, he straightened his back and seemed to come to a decision. He touched his jacket pocket briefly and although he caught her eye, he apparently chose to pretend he didn’t see her curiosity. She wondered if he was going to explain it but when he didn’t, wasn’t sure if she should ask.
"Anyway," he continued in a more serious tone, "I don’t fall for just anybody. I’ve known all sorts of women but none have been anything like you. You take me for what I am, who I am." He stopped as though he had brushed something painful then carefully carried on. "And with you, it was just instantaneous, like we’d known each other forever," that strange pause again, "and yet everything’s so exciting. I want it to be like that always."
To her astonishment he suddenly slid out of his chair and sank to one knee before her.
"Beth, I know this is sudden but will you marry me?"
She stared at him for a long moment, completely unaware of the attention and murmurs of the nearby diners who had caught what he had said.
"I don’t have a ring to offer you but if you say yes, it can be the first thing we do together tomorrow." He added, almost as though he had to say something to hide her silence.
"Yes, Thomas, of course." She blurted out and flung herself out of the chair and into his arms. She didn’t hear it but there was a soft patter of clapping by those that witnessed the exchange.
A day later Beth Ellison looked down again at the glittering diamond secured to the ring finger of her left hand by a delicately twisted and curved band of shining gold. It had been barely thirty days since she had first met Thomas Gallaway and now she was engaged to marry him. At twenty (and a half!) it was a surprising and extraordinary thing to find herself doing especially when he was another twenty years her senior but she could not imagine waiting a moment longer to begin living her life with him. From the moment they had been introduced they had spent every available moment together and just last night he had done the formal thing, bent one knee in the midst of the restaurant and asked her to marry him. She had been ecstatic and she still was, despite the guarded congratulations conferred on her by her brother, her friends and by her mother in her brave ‘well, dear if you’re sure’ comment. Myfanwy was predictably more fulsome and made up for Robert’s characteristically reserved reaction. Beth’s father had passed on some years before and as such could not convey either his blessings or displeasure. Beth though liked to think he would have simply wanted her to be happy.
They stood now in a tiny jeweller’s shop tucked away in an arcade jammed between a second hand book store and a dentist’s surgery after they had visited any number of jewellery stores that morning. The jeweller had designed an exquisite solitaire diamond ring apparently on Thomas’s instruction barely a week ago and although she loved it she never thought for an instant that Thomas would pay the exorbitant price he was asked for it. But he had and now the most expensive thing she had ever owned weighted her hand, bringing her eyes involuntarily to it whenever she moved.
She wished her father was still alive to share her joy. He had always adored her and she was sure he would have accepted Thomas instantly, simply because she loved him. She was sure he could have explained Thomas’s occasional conversational oddities as only another older man could. It had been a blow to lose her father after a short and unexpectedly unsuccessful confrontation with throat cancer although it had brought together a family beginning to fracture in the face of two self-preoccupied teenagers. While they had been close as children, Beth and her brother found themselves at odds more often than not as they grew up and apart. Their father’s death and their mother’s anguish reduced their differences to the petty details they were and the remaining family drew close again. The family home was once more regularly full of people and noise and the distraction proved therapeutic for Beth’s mother, as much as for the children.
On her way to work the following Monday, Beth, her mind full of Thomas, physically bumped into Alistair, a rather handsome man in an English duke kind of way. He was a few years older than her. She had met him through friends and had recently taken a persistent interest in her.
"Sorry Al, I was a million miles away." She apologised as she accepted his greeting kiss on the cheek. A moment later she stepped away from the hands lingering on her arms.
"I’ll forgive you, others wouldn’t but you know me. I let beautiful women get away with murder." He smiled slyly, his eyes sliding up and down her body suggestively.
"Well, thanks." She was uncomfortable and wondered where in the conversation she should mention she was going to get married. Last time they had met, she had just been introduced to Thomas and she had been full of talk about him when Al joined her and Janina at the pub. He hadn’t seemed to be put off by her obvious interest in the man she had just met.
"Hey, I know how you can make it up to me. How about we have lunch today? I’d love to catch up with you. Or maybe dinner would be better. You know that way we could have a few drinks, relax, enjoy each other’s company." He grinned at her. "You never know what might happen."
Damn, she thought, now what do I say? "Um, I’m sorry Al, I’m flattered and everything but I really can’t." She held out her left hand in explanation. "I’m engaged."
His reaction was undisguised. "Engaged? What?" Then comprehension dawned. "To that Thomas guy?" At her nod. "But you’ve only known him, what, a month maybe? You can’t be serious."
As if it wasn’t awkward enough rejecting the guy, Beth thought, embarrassed. "Well, I know it sounds rushed and everything but we are. I mean, we may not have been together long but we’re very sure about this."
Al muttered something under his breath then spoke louder. "Forget I ever said anything, then. Maybe I’ll catch you later or something."
He stomped away and while Beth knew she’d done the right thing, the only thing really, she still felt a little guilty and wished that she’d known the right way to let him down. The discomfort the episode sparked within her lingered with her for the rest of the day.
As soon as Beth stepped out into the street from the florist that afternoon and into Thomas’s waiting arms, he seemed to guess there was something wrong with her.
"Are you okay?" he asked her gently.
"Mostly. It’s just that I ran into Al today, you know that man I told you about and well, he asked me out."
Thomas stood back to look at her properly. "And what did you say?"
"No, of course, what did you think I was going to say? But I guess I just didn’t know how to say it so it wasn’t awkward or anything. I mean I see him socially all the time."
"I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s a grown up, he’ll cope."
"I know but I just want to avoid him for a while."
Thomas pulled her into his embrace again and she could feel his jaw move against her temple as he spoke: "That’s fine by me. I don’t want to share you with anyone anyway."
She closed her eyes, just enjoying the warmth and security of his arms and silently agreed with him. She didn’t want to share either.
The ongoing talk of war in the Falkland Islands, a tiny island group Beth didn’t even know existed and certainly not where it was until she consulted an atlas, dragged at Thomas and took a little of the edge of their joy.
"It looks like I’ll have to go." He had told her one night as they snuggled together watching the news on the situation in the Falklands. "Gary too, probably."
While she was not pleased about the news, he had seemed surprisingly down about it even though he had been in the Navy since his return from his world travels in his late twenties. Apparently having no other real career plan, his nationalistic father happily guided him into a career serving his country. When she had first met him Thomas had been in uniform and he had seemed so suited for it that she didn’t recognise him immediately the first time she saw him in civilian clothes. But since then whenever she had seen him talk about or watch anything to do with war, he seemed to be a more peace-loving person that she would have expected considering his job. Which was good of course, she didn’t want to be marrying some vicious, vengeful man but it just seemed strange in the face of his life long career.
Like many other things they hadn’t discussed it but she wondered if he intended to stay in the Navy long after they were married given the extensive time demands of that career. There was certainly something unresolved there. Maybe it was his career but then maybe it was something else. Although she felt like she’d known Thomas forever, and like everything before him had happened to someone else, she sensed that there was something he hadn’t told her. She’d had that sensation since she first met him but he had never behaved suspiciously or like he was trying to keep anything from her necessarily and she simply put that aside in case it disturbed the perfectness of the relationship. On one level she knew she was just avoiding something which would probably have to be faced at some point but she didn’t want that point to be now. They’d have plenty of time to deal with whatever it was later.
When she arrived at the Excelsior for dinner on Friday night, he was leaning against the pillar closest to the stairs as she looked up from paying the cab driver. She swallowed at his burning eyed invitation and began to climb the stone stairs. Every step she took was like a jolt through her soul. When she finally reached him, he had straightened up, looking tall, dark and very sexy, attracting the lingering gazes of passing women.
"Hello, beautiful." Thomas said quietly, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She smiled but for a moment could not find her voice to reply. He reached out a hand and took a curl of her hair in his fingers in a warmly intimate gesture. "You’ve coloured your hair, it looks good."
"Thank you." She managed to murmur, deliciously aware of the scent of him standing so close to her. It didn’t surprise her that he noticed, he had always seemed to pick up anything special she’d done, whether it was colouring her hair or changing her perfume. He inclined his head at her breathy tone and his sexy smile widened. He released the tendril of hair he had twisted around his finger and laid his hand on her upper arm briefly before gesturing towards the doorway of the building.
"Do you want to go in?"
She nodded, wondering if she would ever get over being so in love with him and hoping that she never did. She had managed to hold together numerous, variously-lengthed relationships since she was about fourteen but she didn’t remember feeling this excited at any point over the years. Love like this was exhilarating and she wanted it to pump through her veins forever.
As they were directed to the table, Beth noticed again the sidelong looks and outright stares her partner was receiving. Usually he just ignored them but to her surprise tonight he responded to these with brief stares of his own, usually causing the watcher to look away in embarrassment. Usually. A couple of women though did not follow the pattern and continued to eye him off even after his silent confrontation. He touched her arm when they reached the table by the full wall window, to guide her to the chair with the best view. Even as they ordered wine she could still feel the warmth on her arm where his palm had rested.