The Secret Love-Child

But nothing he could say would console her. She wept on and on, as though her very soul was shattered. In the end he didn't believe her pain was just because the test was negative. He believed it was caused by the buildup of all the disappointments in her life so far, culminating in this last most distressing disappointment.

When she virtually collapsed in his arms, he picked her up and carried her to bed. He didn't bother to undress her, just pulled back the covers and tipped her gently onto the mattress. Though he did yank off her joggers before covering her up with the quilt.

'Don't leave me,' she cried as he tucked her in.

'I won't,' he promised. 'I'll just go make you a hot drink.'

'No, no, I don't want a drink. I just want you. Hold me, Rafe. I feel safe when you hold me.'

He sighed at the thought. How could he stop at just holding her? Yet, at the same time, how could he refuse her? She needed him. Not as a lover, but as a friend.

Kicking off his own shoes, he climbed in beside her with the rest of his clothes on, hoping that would help. And it did. For a while. But, in the end, neither of them was content with such a platonic embrace. Yet it was Isabel who started the touching and the undressing, Isabel who decided she needed him as women had been needing the men they loved since the Garden of Eden.

Rafe could not resist her overtures and, strangely, their lovemaking turned out totally different from anything they'd shared before. It was truly lovemaking. Soft. Slow. And so sweet.

Nothing but the simplest of foreplay, just face-stroking and the most innocent of kisses. Rafe's hands were gentle on her breasts and hers caressing on his back. And when the yearning to become one overwhelmed them both they merely fused together, Rafe on top, Isabel gazing adoringly up at him. They took a long time in coming, but when they did it was with such feeling, waves of rapturous pleasure rippling through their bodies, bringing with them the most amazing peace and contentment.

'I do love you,' she murmured as she lay in his arms afterwards.

Rafe sighed and stroked her hair. 'Good.'

'And I will many you,' she added. 'If you still want me to.'

'Even better.'

'But I don't want to wait till we're married before we try again for a baby. Can we try again next month, like you said?'

'I'm putty in your hands, Isabel.'

When she hugged him even more tightly, Rafe was startled to feel tears pricking at his eyes. But that was how much he loved her, and how much her loving him meant to him. At that moment, his cup indeed runneth over.

He lay thinking about their future for a long time after she was fast asleep.

* * * * *

'I want you to come to lunch with my mother tomorrow,' he told her the following morning over breakfast. Isabel pushed her hair out of her face as she glanced up at him. 'Oh, dear. Do you think she'll like me?'

'She's going to adore you.'

'You really think so? Mothers worry me a bit. She's had you all to herself all these years. I'll bet you're the apple of her eye.'

Rafe had to laugh. His mother had always found him a very difficult child. And an even more difficult teenager. He'd been one-eyed and extremely focused, determined to be a famous photographer, and even more determined never to be poor, as they'd been for many years after his father had died. At sixteen, he'd used money he'd saved from various after-school jobs to convert their single garage into a darkroom, consigning his mother's car to the street.

She'd been thrilled when he'd finally moved out of home. He believed the only reason she was fanatical about his getting married was because she was paranoid that one day fate would step in and he'd have to come home for some reason.

'Trust me, Isabel,' he said. 'My mother is not one of those mothers. She has her own life, with her own friends, pleasures and pastimes. She just wants me settled and safely married because she doesn't want to worry about me any more. Of course, she would love a grandchild or two. I won't deny that. By the way, any sign of that missing period yet?'

'No. I can't imagine where it is. I'm never late.'

'You don't think that test could have been wrong, do you?'

Isabel's stomach fluttered. She hadn't thought of that. 'I...I'm sure I followed the instructions correctly.'

'Yes, but you're not all that late yet. How far along do you have to be for it to be a reliable test?'

'It's supposed to work from two weeks.'

'Yes, but you would have only been two weeks and a day at best: yesterday, Isabel. That's borderline. Perhaps we should buy another test and try again in a couple of days' time.'

Isabel recoiled at the idea. She didn't want to build up her hopes only to have them dashed again. Her emotions had been such a mess last night after Rafe arrived and made all his most amazing confessions. She'd swung from distress to delight to despair, all in the space of an hour.

She hadn't cried like that ever in her life, not even when she'd found out Hal had been a drug-dealer. Still, crying her heart out in Rafe's arms had been a deeply cleansing experience, and their lovemaking later had filled her with such hope and joy for the future that she didn't need to be pregnant now to make her happy. She was already happy just being with Rafe and knowing that he really loved her. They'd have a baby eventually. It had been silly of her to be so disappointed. And it would be silly to torture herself with another test. Better to just calmly wait for her period to arrive, then make plans for trying again during her next cycle.