Chapter 16

"We are back at the cottage."

"I figured this would serve as the perfect honeymoon location since you are not able to travel very far. We could be alone together, and you could get some rest. The doctor assured me that she is on call if anything happens."

Pushing open his door, he climbed out, the wind tugging at his long cashmere overcoat as he went to help her out. "We should hurry in. They are calling for snow. Let's get you inside. Take your time darling, there are some loose pebbles right here."

Camelia felt the cushion of his love and protection wrapping all around her, and it felt wonderful.

Opening the door, he ushered her into the cozy warmth of the cottage with the sound and feel of the fire snapping inside the hearth.

"It feels so good here."

Taking her jacket and gloves, he put them away. "I will just go back to grab our stuff. Hungry?"

"For more of that delicious cake, I could have some hot chocolate." She laughed softly. "I know it's piling on the calories–"

"Let's not worry about that," he told her firmly. "You are eating for two and even if you grow as big as an elephant, you have my assurance that I will still love you." His green eyes twinkled with mirth.

"You had better." Lifting her left hand, she wriggled her fingers so that the light from the fire caught the diamond and sent prisms of colors shooting all over the room. "This says we are together until death."

"It does." Turning around, he headed for the door. "Go sit by the fire."

Hugging her chest, Camelia walked over to the easy chair by the fire and started taking off her boots. She was married! It seemed so surreal, and she had to keep reminding herself that she was now Mrs. Hayes Marsden. She had no problem letting go of the DeWinter name at all and embracing her husband's. It felt natural.

"Warm enough?" He came back into the room and dumped their things into a corner.

"Yes. I can make hot chocolate," she suggested.

"I don't want you doing anything. There is already a pot on the stove. I instructed Mrs. Granger to take care of everything so we don't have to do any cooking. All I need to do is warm it up."

"Are you trying to win husband of the year?"

"Something like that." He gave her a fleeting smile as he left the room. Stepping into the small kitchen, Hayes took a breath to steady himself before setting about to get the hot chocolate and the slices of their wedding cake.

He was deliberately staying away from her for now. The anticipation of making love to her was making him acutely nervous for some reason. But he knew why that was. She was now his wife, something he had given up hope of ever happening, and it was taking its toll.

Pouring the hot chocolate into two cups, he cut two large slices of cake and put them on a tray before heading out of the kitchen. She had switched from the chair to a double sofa in front of the table.

Placing the tray in front of her, he sat and took off his boots before taking up his cup. "This is nice."

"I think I can find another more appropriate word to describe what this is." Cradling the cup between her hands, she turned so that she could stretch her legs on his lap. "You are my best friend."

His thick brows arched at the sudden change of subject, and she shrugged. "It just hit me that even when we were teenagers, we had tons of friends because we were both so popular.

But you were the one I wanted to confide in, the only one I was not afraid to show my vulnerability to. I could tell you anything and know without a doubt that you were either going to agree with me or tell me bluntly that it was not a good idea.

Telling you stuff, even the painful ones came naturally and it's still the same. I stood next to you exchanging vows and I wondered what I ever did to deserve something so wonderful."

His chest was constricted and for a few seconds he could not say anything. Putting away his cup, he took hers away and held her hands. "It's the same with me," he told her hoarsely.

"When you left, I not only lost my girl, the love of my life, but my best friend as well and that was why it felt so awful, why I couldn't get over you're leaving. When I took over the company, you were the person I wanted to tell, to ask for your idea or what you thought was the best course of action.

I have a full complement of board members, people in key positions who have been with the company for years and I wanted to ask you what you think of such and such." Lifting her hand, he kissed it slowly, his eyes holding hers. "It's always you, always will be and no one else."

"Hayes?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I am not hungry anymore," she whispered suggestively.

"Neither am I. Shall we retire, my sweet wife?"

"Say it again."

"My wife." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I am feeling quite broken up about it myself." Removing her legs, he rose and held out his hand for hers. Placing it in his, she allowed him to help her up. He did not let go of her hand until they were in the bedroom where, to her surprise, there were rose petals strewn on the gaily patterned quilt.

"You arranged this?"

He nodded. Turning her around, he unzipped the clingy lime green sweater dress she had changed into after the ceremony.

His breath caught inside his throat as the sheer lace teddy was revealed.

Turning her to face him, he let his eyes wander over the lush flesh, lingering on the plump bosom that had grown more generous since the pregnancy, before going to her stomach where she had started showing slightly.

"It's a good thing I never knew what you were wearing under that dress." His hands spanned her waist, thumbs caressing the slight bulge. "My baby is growing inside you." Lifting his head, he stared at her, eyes luminous with emotions. "I cannot tell you how humbled I am."

"So am I." Lifting her left hand, she cradled his jaw. "And now I would very much like my husband to make love to me."

"I think I am going to need a minute," he teased shakily. Leading her toward the bed, he pressed her down so that she was sitting. Stepping back, he hurriedly took off his clothes before kneeling in front of her. "I want to take my time," he told her hoarsely. "But three weeks–"

"Is a very long time to be without each other physically," she concluded. Her fingers brushed back the lock of thick blonde hair that had fallen on his forehead.

"You are my wife."

"Until death parts us," she repeated the vow she had made before God and their families.

"Nothing will ever be too much that we cannot talk to each other and sort it out."

"Nothing," she agreed, shivering slightly when he ran his hands up her thighs. Sliding off the thin straps, she leaned back on her elbows and waited as he stripped the lace off her.

Her heart contracted at the sheer look of reverence on his handsome face as he stared at her. "You are so beautiful, and you are all mine." he whispered before bending his head to kiss her stomach.

"Hayes."

"Shh." He trailed hot kisses down her stomach, taking little nibbles until sparks of fire were shooting through her entire body. Her fingers curled into the material covering the bed, her body vibrating.

"Hayes." Her fingers dug into the sheet, body lifting toward him at the light touch of his mouth on her sensitive flesh. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, breath fanning the already engorged flesh.

"You won't. Please–" A gasp escaped her when he used the tip of his tongue to enter her slowly. Before she had time to brace herself, he plunged his tongue deep inside her and had her rearing off the bed. "Oh God!"

Clamping his hands on her hips, he held her steady while he relentlessly ravaged her with his tongue and lips. By the time he climbed on top of her, she was trembling, lost in a whirlpool of sensual passion, so powerful it left her senses reeling.

Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he forced himself not to drive into her. He was so hard; it was making it difficult for him to hold onto the control that was rapidly slipping away. The taste of her, the musky scent of her, filled his nostrils and his throat.

"Hayes," she said, her eyes brimming with tears, "please."

"Soon," he promised thickly. "Do you know how you look right now?"

"Hayes-" she gasped, her fingers were digging in his chest, her heart hammering, "I can't–"

"Like an exquisite woman waiting for her lover." Lowering himself slowly, he entered her an inch at a time, his body going stiff when her tightness sheathed him, pulling him in until he was deep inside her.

"I love the feel of you inside me," she told him, hands wandering up and down his muscular back before wrapping around his neck.

"It feels so hot, so unbelievably wonderful that I can't stand it." Her words combined with the dazed look of love on her face and her wrapped around him like a glove was making him weak and he knew it was not long before it would be all over.

"Cammy!" The groan was torn from his chest, and he could not stop himself from driving into her. The moment he did, the climax that had been hovering on the brink exploded inside her body.

Gripping his hair, she brought his lips to hers; the moans swallowed inside his mouth as her body was wracked by a storm, so profound and intense that it had tears streaming down her cheeks.

He tried to ease out, but as if she knew instinctively what he was about, she threw a leg over him, effectively trapping him. His body shuddered, and he felt the tightness of loins indicating that he was about to erupt.

The climax flooded his body and left him breathless. Tearing his mouth from hers, he increased the pace, until he was driving into her, his seed flooding the mouth of her womb. Leaning against her weakly, he waited a few seconds before shifting to the side and taking her with him.

He held her close, one hand splayed possessively across her stomach, the other running up and down her back slowly as he fought to get his breathing under control.

Burying her face in his chest, she breathed in his spicy cologne and closed her eyes. The intensity of their lovemaking had always frightened her, and it had taken her a long time to accept it and even then, she had not completely accomplished that.

"Darling?" Tilting his head, he searched for her face. "Tell me."

"Nothing."

He merely cocked a brow and waited. "I don't think I will ever get used to it."

"You said the same thing when we were teenagers."

"I never thought it could get more intense." She was still feeling the tremors racking her body.

"Is that a bad thing?" He was far from sated but was going to wait until she rested a little before going a second time.

"I don't know. I want to say it's not, but it is a lot."

Using a finger, he trailed it down her cheek, his touch light. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I am not saying I do."

"Then what exactly are you saying?"

"It's a lot."

"Hmm." They were still intimately joined to each other, and he had no intention of being otherwise. Being inside his wife was simply magical.

His wife. The two words had a potent effect on him, so much so that he felt like whispering it over and over again.

"Hayes?"

"Darling?" Shaking his head, he returned her gaze, smiling at the puzzled look on her face.

"What is it?"

"I was just thinking we should have some cake." He grinned at her narrow-eyed look. "And that I should feed it to you."

*****

They had one bad moment on the third day of their honeymoon. She had insisted on them going for a walk, even though the snow the night before had made the weather very icy and the path leading into the woods slightly treacherous.

They had walked for a mile when he noticed that she had started shivering even though he had made certain she was properly dressed and insisted that they return.

It was later that night; she woke him up when she brushed against him, and he felt the heat radiating from her skin and realized that she was running temperature. A very high one. And they were in the middle of nowhere.

"I shouldn't have listened to you," he said tensely. Rolling out of bed, he rushed to the bathroom to fill the bath with tepid water. Before he could rush back to get her, she was already leaning against the door jamb, her thin silk nightie already soaked.

"Are you ever going to listen to me?" Turning off the tap, he came to take her by the hand. Stripping off the nightgown, he guided her into the tub and used a sponge to run it over her skin.

"That feels good." she told him, rolling her eyes at the anger on his face. "I suppose I should apologize for insisting on us going for that walk."

"You think?"

"You cannot stay angry with me; this is our honeymoon."

"Which is spoiled by me having to worry about you." Sighing softly, he ran the sponge over her forehead and at the back of her neck. "Come on, let's get you out."

*****

Hayes lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck in an unconsciously weary gesture. He had taken a break because he could not stand to be in the room any longer. Besides, the doctor told him that he should go and walk for a few minutes.

"Your anxiety, although cloaked, is transmitted to your wife, because she can pick up the slightest nuance of your emotions." They had firmly guided him from the room. It had been ten hours since she had woken him up with contractions.

They had been mild, but he had not wanted to take any chances. He had called the doctor and his mother and had rushed her to the hospital. That had been ten hours ago, and he was scared spitless.

She had been watched diligently by him and his mother and had been monitored by her doctor, and the duration of the pregnancy had lulled them into thinking that everything was all right. Now he was not certain.

They were having a son. The news had filled them both with acute joy and they had settled on the name—Mark Johnathon, much to his mother's delight.

The nursery was decorated in a swirl of blue-green and Hayes' crib had been unearthed from the storage and cleaned up along with several of the priceless antique furnishings that had been his as a baby.

"Darling, I brought you a cup of coffee." Hillary hurried into the private waiting room, a look of anxiety on her face. "You really should eat something." she admonished as she pressed the steaming cup of coffee into his hands.

"I am not hungry," he told her abruptly. "And I really should get back in there."

"I am sure she will be alright."

"If anything happens to her–"

"Nothing will." Hillary touched his arm lightly and wished fervently that she could ease his anxiety. But she was feeling more than a little anxious herself. It was the first baby and usually the delivery and labor take forever, but Camelia had a history of miscarriage.

If, for some reason, the baby was stillborn, neither her son nor his wife was going to get through it. She had stopped in at the chapel and spent ten minutes, beseeching divine intervention. She wanted to see her grandson.

He had taken a few sips of coffee when a nurse hurried into the room.

"What is it?" he asked her tautly, shoving the cup into his mother's hand.

"Your wife is asking for you. The head is crowning," she said with a smile.

"Oh, thank God!" Hillary exclaimed fervently. "Go, darling."

*****

"You should be resting," he chided gently as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She had been through so much that he was determined to treat her with kid's gloves.

After the interminably long labor, she had suffered a tear when their son was being delivered, which had led to some discomfort and bleeding. Fortunately, the baby was pronounced healthy, and both of them were discharged two days later.

"He is so perfect," she breathed, leaning back against him, her voice clogged with tears. "He has your nose and chin." Tearing her gaze from the beautiful baby they had made together, she looked up at her husband, love shimmering in her eyes. "We did it honey."

"Mostly you," he admitted with a solemn smile. "He is sleeping, sweetheart, and Mother is going to be doing first watch—in case he wakes up. Can I persuade you to go to bed?"

"Just a little bit more. I cannot stop staring at him. There were days I would think that it was not going to happen."

"And here he is." Hayes kissed the top of her head. "Come with me. I have something to give you."

"No," she told him with a breathless laugh. "You already gave me a boat, a car, tons of clothing, and a safe filled with jewelry. What's left?"

"A small jet?" he teased.

"Hayes Marsden, don't you dare," she whispered, allowing him to lead her from the room.

"You'll love it," he promised as they made their way into their bedroom. Leading her over to the bed, he made her sit before hurrying toward the massive walk-through closet to retrieve something from a drawer.

She waited, a puzzled look on her face, when he came out with what looked like a painting wrapped in brown paper.

"Rembrandt?" she guessed.

"Something much better. I commissioned Jackson to do a portrait, and after many protests, he finally gave in. I wanted to give you something that was priceless and came up with this."

Sitting on the bed next to her, he tore into the protective covering and waited for her to react. The shocked look of pleasure on her exquisite face was enough for him.

"Hayes," she whispered, reaching for the painting. "Oh my." She ran reverent fingers over the canvas, feeling a jolt as she stared at the amazing likeness. It was her, nine months pregnant and seated on a blanket beneath the cherry blossoms in the private park owned by Marsden Airlines.

She had on a floral blue and pink dress, with a high waist and scooped neckline. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, and she was laughing. He had taken her picture and told her she was the most beautiful pregnant woman he had ever seen.

"Read the caption," he commanded huskily.

"'Beauty in perfect bloom,'" she read aloud. Tearing her eyes away from the likeness, she stared at him, the love in her heart threatening to overflow. For a few seconds, she could not find the words and even when she did, it was too inadequate.

"You saved me," she whispered achingly, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I thought it was all over, that I was going to spend the rest of my life existing in the past and you changed that."

Taking the portrait from her, he drew her to him, cradling her head on his shoulder. He too was overcome and had been since she was pregnant. Hell, since the day he met her. "I believe you have it backward, darling," he whispered hoarsely.

"You saved me." Cupping her face between his palms, he let his eyes wander over each exquisite feature. She had complained good-naturedly about her increased weight due to the pregnancy, but he had seen her blossom and grow even more beautiful as she sheltered their son.

"There is nothing in the world I would not do for you. I hope you understand that."

She did. He had been there for her every step of the way, and she could not have asked for a better husband or lifelong mate. "The feeling is mutual darling," she whispered as she drew his head down, her lips seeking his in a kiss of pure, undiluted love.

The end…