After The Loving

‘Of course I’m coming in, Bryna,’ his voice was huskily soft, as he pushed the door open for her to precede him inside and closed the door firmly behind him.

Bryna felt nervous in his company, as if this were their first date and they were only a couple of inexperienced teenagers, her hands shaking slightly as she faced him across the lounge. ‘Rosemary will be waiting for you——’

‘No one is waiting for me,’ he told her gruffly, noiselessly crossing the lounge to stand in front of her. ‘It’s you I want, Bryna.’

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. ‘No—you can’t mean——’

‘I need your fire and passion tonight, Bryna,’ he groaned as his head lowered to hers.

‘But earlier——’

‘I was angry,’ he dismissed. ‘But I’m not angry any more. Now I just want to feel your silken legs wrapped about me while I bury myself in you!’

Their lovemaking was always different, sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle, sometimes so slow it drove the two of them insane, other times fiercely out of control. And tonight she knew Raff wanted it to be the latter, for both of them to be mindlessly lost in their passion for each other. And she wasn’t sure, after what had happened earlier, that she could give him the response he seemed to need.

She swallowed hard. ‘Raff, I don’t know if I can. I don’t——’

‘Of course you can.’ He melded his body against hers, moving against her provocatively.

Yes, she could, because this would be their farewell. She couldn’t go through the pain he had made her endure earlier again, and so they would have this one last night together and then she would tell him it was over between them.

‘All right, Raff,’ her arms curved up about his neck as she relaxed against him, ‘make love to me.’

Asking Raff to make love to her was like standing in the way of a tidal wave, knowing it would knock her completely off her feet, cloud her brain until she couldn’t think or feel anything but him!

He was a man who rarely, if ever, lost control, and it took her breath away when he began to throw off their clothes as they stood together in her lounge. Usually they both had a leisurely shower, either apart or together, and then they would go to bed together. She had never known this wildness from him before.

But if he felt differently about their lovemaking tonight so did she, the child inside her, and the knowledge that this would be their last time together, making her own responses as wild as his.

He had a magnificent body, strong and lithe, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh anywhere. And as he stripped off the last of his clothing Bryna was able to see he was already fully aroused.

His hands entangled in her hair as he kissed her deeply, and she squirmed with delight as one of those hands moved to cup the fullness of one of her breasts. She had wondered at the increased sensitivity of her breasts in recent weeks, but now she knew they were making ready for her baby, and as Raff’s dark head moved down to allow him to capture one aching nipple into the moist cavern of his mouth she felt as if her child already suckled there.

But the flicking of his tongue and the sharp sting of his teeth were not the movements of a child nourishing, and her legs buckled weakly beneath her, drawing the two of them down on to the carpeted floor.

‘Don’t move,’ Raff instructed gruffly as she would have caressed him.

What followed was the most erotic and tortuous experience of her entire life. Raff kissed her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, discovering pleasure spots that took her again and again to the edge of the sensual abyss he refused to let her enter, always drawing her back before she could attain release.

Finally she could stand no more, moving above him to take them both over the edge as she moved her body in rhythm with his, her nipples knowing the tug of his teeth as she bent above him.

The explosion inside her was greater than anything she had ever known before, and for a brief moment she felt blackness enshroud her, still feeling dizzy as Raff stood up to carry her through to her bedroom.

‘That was for us,’ he murmured as he gently laid her down between the covers. ‘Now this is for you.’

She had barely recovered from the previous onslaught when she felt him intent on arousing her a second time.

He was trying to drive her insane, she decided minutes later, her body writhing and sweat-dampened as she silently begged him to release her from the tortuous frenzy he remorselessly drove her to.

He poised above her, his expression fierce. ‘Now do you believe I want you?’ he rasped.

‘Yes,’ she almost sobbed. ‘But please, please, Raff,’ she let out a shuddering breath of need.

She had been made for him, she decided for what had to be the hundredth time, knowing even as the silken length of him thrust inside her that he would fit perfectly, that he always had.

And then she couldn’t think at all, her hips arching to meet his throbbing rhythm, groaning her own shuddering release at the exact moment she felt his warmth inside her.

As partings went, it had to be one of the most soul-shattering on record!

Raff was already in the bathroom showering and shaving when Bryna woke the next morning, falling back against the pillows with a relieved groan as she realised it was Saturday, and her flight wasn’t scheduled until later that morning.

Last night had been frightening in its intensity, Raff taking her once more before he allowed her to sleep, and her rest finally that of the almost unconscious, and this morning her body ached from the force of those fierce caresses.

Last night they had been closer than ever before, and Bryna dreaded having to tell Raff she thought it best if they didn’t see each other any more. But what real choice did she have?

He was smiling when he came out of the bathroom, freshly shaved, wearing only the black trousers to his suit, although they were a little creased from where they had been left forgotten on the lounge floor all night. His chest was bare and golden, the dark hair there sprinkled even more liberally with grey than at his temples.

He sat on the side of the bed, smoothing back her ice-gold tangle of hair. ‘I thought you were going to sleep all day,’ he teased indulgently.

She longed to turn her face into that hand, to shower kisses over his palm, to tell him how much she loved him, of his child that she carried inside her. Instead she drew back from him. ‘I’m going up to Scotland today to stay the rest of the weekend with my parents.’ It was an effort to keep her gaze on a level with him when his darkened angrily. ‘I think we should take that time to accept that it’s over between us,’ she added in a rush of emotion.

Raff drew in a harsh breath, his hand dropping back to his side. ‘What do you mean, it’s over?’ he rasped abruptly.

Bryna sighed. ‘We’ve both known it for weeks, Raff, so why fool ourselves any longer?’

He stood up forcefully, grey eyes blazing. ‘When did you decide this?’ he demanded.

She shrugged, sitting up against the pillows. ‘I’ve realised for some time——’

‘I meant, when did you decide to visit your parents?’ he ground out.

‘I telephoned them yesterday afternoon and made the arrangements——’

‘So you knew when we met to go out last night?’ he accused.

She blinked. ‘Yes. But——’

‘Then what was last night all about?’ His voice rose angrily.

Bryna swallowed hard. ‘Goodbye?’

‘Good——?’ His face darkened thunderously as he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her up to him so that her face was only inches away from him. ‘Look at me and tell me you don’t want me any more,’ he ordered harshly.

For the sake of her pride she had to do it; she knew she would never be able to face their child if she allowed their relationship to deteriorate to the stage where they were no longer equal but she was just someone Raff came to when he wanted a willing woman in his arms.

She met his gaze steadily. ‘I no longer want you,’ she lied.

‘Damn you!’ he grated forcefully, releasing her so suddenly she fell back on the pillows, watching numbly as he pulled on his clothes. ‘Damn you,’ he said again before slamming out of the apartment.

With a shuddering sob Bryna’s body began to heave in racking waves of agony.

CHAPTER THREE

‘ARE you sure, darling?’ her mother choked through her tears of happiness. ‘The doctors seemed so sure——’

‘Mine is just as sure I’m pregnant,’ Bryna told her laughingly. Her parents’ reaction to her news, the one she had expected from them, had been pure joy! At last she had been able to tell someone, and the happiness of sharing her child with them was all she had thought it would be.

‘It’s just so incredible!’ Her father hugged her, tears in his own deep blue eyes. He was tall and muscular, with hair that was grey now but that had once been the same colour as Bryna’s.

‘I know,’ she laughed again. ‘Yesterday I was still too shocked by the news to be able to take it in myself, but before I left this morning I called my doctor and asked him if he could be absolutely certain I was pregnant. I mean, he knows my medical history as well as I do! But he’s almost certain the doctors told you there was always the possibility I could conceive, even if that possibility was a remote one.’ She looked at them questioningly.

Her mother frowned thoughtfully. ‘They seemed pretty convinced you wouldn’t——’

‘Well, he also said that they know more nowadays than they did then, and that perhaps they really did believe I couldn’t conceive. But they were wrong,’ she told them happily. ‘Because my doctor also told me I should start thinking of names!’

‘Oh, darling!’ Her mother was crying in earnest now, small and dark, with a plump figure Bryna’s father had always maintained was cuddly!

Bryna had only arrived half an hour earlier, but she had been too excited to contain her news until after they had all eaten. She came home to see her parents regularly in the home she had known all her life. Her father owned and ran a ski-school in this lovely part of north-east Scotland.

‘No more tears,’ she instructed briskly, her face glowing. ‘Let’s have dinner before it spoils.’

‘We should have some wine to celebrate,’ her father decided, hesitating suddenly. ‘Can you drink wine?’ he asked curiously.

‘One glass occasionally,’ she nodded, smiling. ‘And I think this is definitely an “occasion"!’

By the time they were halfway through the meal her father was discussing which schools her unborn child should attend! Bryna just smiled at him indulgently, knowing how much he was enjoying himself in his role of grandfather.

‘Really, James,’ her mother admonished lightly. ‘That will be for Bryna and Mr Gallagher to decide.’

A shadow darkened Bryna’s eyes to purple. ‘Raff and I are no longer together,’ she announced flatly.

She had told her parents all about Raff and the part he played in her life after their first week together, never having kept secrets from them, and knowing they respected the fact that she was old enough to make her own decisions—and her own mistakes, if need be.

Her father frowned. ‘I’m not old-fashioned enough to believe, or imply, that the two of you should get married because you’re pregnant, but surely he’ll want to take some interest in his own child?’

‘It’s my child, Dad——’

‘You haven’t told him,’ he reproved gently. ‘Isn’t that a little selfish, lass?’

She blushed. ‘He already has two children, why should he want mine?’

‘Because——’

‘Now, James, this isn’t the night for an argument,’ her mother cut in determinedly. ‘I’m sure Bryna knows what she’s doing.’

‘But, Mary——’

‘Not tonight, James!’ her mother bit out, her brown eyes flashing warningly. She might be small and cuddly, but when the occasion warranted it she had a fiery temper that even her husband was in awe of!

Bryna gave a rueful smile, as her father, almost twice her mother’s size, subsided into silence.

She hadn’t meant to cause any friction between her parents, but she didn’t want to talk of Raff this weekend, not when she had managed to avoid thinking of him since setting out for Scotland this morning.

It was a pleasant evening for all of them, making plans, laughingly suggesting the most outrageous names they could think of. A boy’s name was already decided in her mind—Rafferty James, after its father and grandfather, but a girl’s name was a little harder to decide upon. Maybe because she was already convinced she carried Raff’s son.

Once she was alone in the single bed in the room that had remained hers, even though she had left so long ago, it was impossible to banish Raff from her mind any longer, and she allowed the tears of desolation to fall unheeded down her heated cheeks.

Was he with Rosemary, or someone like her, tonight, having put from his mind and his life the woman who had dared to end their affair?

God, how she would love his child, she vowed protectively.

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