The Determined Husband. Lee Wilkinson
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he eased the light duvet free and pulled it over her. But instead of getting back into bed, as she’d hoped, he began to put on his clothes.
As he shrugged into his shirt, she asked, ‘Do you have to go?’
Keir heard the sudden desolation and, coming back to sit on the edge of the bed, he stroked her cheek with a gentle finger. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘But why?’
‘Because I shouldn’t have let this happen. The time isn’t right. If it was just a casual affair, with no commitment on either side, it wouldn’t be a problem. But it isn’t. And it’s too soon.
‘At the moment I need every single minute, and every scrap of energy and concentration I can muster.’ Then, with a sigh he added, ‘I can only ask you to be patient.’
Sera nodded wordlessly. She could, and would, do anything Keir wanted her to do.
‘That’s my girl.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, switched off the light and, a second later, she heard the door close quietly behind him.
Lying staring blindly into the darkness, she thought long and deeply about Keir’s reaction to their lovemaking, while any remaining euphoria faded slowly away.
She couldn’t regret what had happened, it had been so beautiful, so right…
Only Keir hadn’t thought so; he hadn’t really wanted it to happen. And, with hindsight, she could see that he’d been a reluctant lover. She had sensed his attempt to hold back.
Afterwards he’d said he was happy, but his words had lacked conviction. Perhaps he’d only said it because she’d pressed him…
But he had wanted her. Inexperienced though she was, there had been no mistaking his hunger and need. And he did love her. She felt for the ring he’d placed on her finger, and was reassured.
All it amounted to, she told herself firmly, was that, with the amount of work he was trying to get done, there was no time at the present for a wife and a family.
As he himself had said, it was too soon.
But for a man who was as much of a workaholic as he was, would there ever be time?
No, she mustn’t think like that. If she was patient as he’d asked, surely everything would come right?
Sunday was a long, lonely day, and by ten-thirty that evening Sera had given up all hope of Keir coming. She had cleaned her teeth and put on a thin cotton nightdress, when there was the lightest of taps at the door.
Hurrying over, she threw it open.
‘Hi.’ He smiled at her. ‘I wondered if you might be asleep.’
Her relief and pleasure at seeing him was so great that, for a moment, she was speechless.
Then, because she couldn’t say all the things she felt, she asked mundanely, ‘Are you coming in for a coffee?’
He shook his head. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’
Anxious not to pressure him, she said brightly, ‘I’m fine.’
Her reward was a light kiss on the cheek. ‘Then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at six-thirty. We’ll have a walk in the park, weather permitting. If it’s raining—’
Afraid of what he was going to say, she broke in hurriedly, ‘If it’s raining, I’ll cook you some breakfast.’
Grinning, he said, ‘When I say my prayers, I’ll pray for rain.’
Back on their former footing, snatching whatever time together he could manage, the next couple of weeks were happy ones for Sera.
Though Keir never made any attempt to make love to her, and kept the relationship light, there was a warmth about him, a caring that spoke volumes.
At odd times, when he looked at her, she saw desire flare in those long, heavy-lidded eyes.
Desire that lit an answering flame.
Had he made the slightest move, she would have gone to him willingly, eagerly. But, always with a will-power she could only marvel at, he beat it down.
The fact that he refused to take what she would happily have given, served only to deepen her feelings for him.
Love, as a poet once said, is hard to hide, and there was a glow about her that lit up the office.
Returning from a business trip, Cheryl Rothwell noticed that radiance, and remarked to her PA, ‘You look as if life’s giving you a treat.’ Then, shrewdly she added, ‘Which means a man. What’s his name?’
Taken by surprise, Sera found herself admitting, ‘Keir Sutherlands.’
‘Keir Sutherlands?’ Cheryl sounded startled, and none too pleased. ‘Some man!’
Though she smiled, Sera could sense the unspoken envy.
Her expression interested, Cheryl observed, ‘I met him a couple of weeks ago when Martin and he had some business to discuss…’
All at once she paused, her attention caught by the silver ring Sera wore. But after a moment’s scrutiny, clearly dismissing it as of no importance, she went on, ‘Though I wouldn’t call him film-star handsome, he’s an attractive devil, and his sex appeal hits you like a sock on the jaw.’
Then, sharply, she asked, ‘Where did you meet him? Was it here?’
‘No. He has an apartment next door to mine.’
Cheryl frowned. ‘What’s a man who owns Sutherlands doing living in some run-down apartment building?’
Sera, who had never considered the question, shook her head.
‘Do you know how long he’s lived there?’ Cheryl pursued.
‘Only for a short time, I gather.’
‘Odd… Perhaps I’ll ask him about it when he comes to the party on Thursday night…’
Anglo American did a great deal of corporate entertaining. Like Keir, Martin Rothwell considered that more opportunities presented themselves and more real business was done in a relaxed, social atmosphere than over an office desk.
Her light blue eyes on her PA’s face, Cheryl added casually, ‘I suppose you’ll be coming?’
Well aware that it wasn’t the answer the other woman was hoping for, Sera said steadily, ‘Yes, Keir said he’d take me.’
But, sounding more like herself, Cheryl exclaimed, ‘Lucky you! I can’t say I’m not jealous.’
When Keir finally knocked at Sera’s door on Thursday evening he was well over an hour late, and she had practically given him up.
Brushing his apology aside, she assured him, ‘It doesn’t matter. Honestly. Posh parties really aren’t my thing.’
‘How many have you been to?’
‘None,’ she admitted.
‘Then I’ll do my best to see you enjoy this one.’
He was looking devastatingly attractive in well-cut evening clothes and, knowing this gathering was certain to be a lavish affair, she asked a shade hesitantly, ‘Will I do?’
She had splashed out on a new dress, and with only a limited amount to spend had gone for simplicity, choosing a slim-fitting ankle-length sheath in muted shades of green and dull silver.
‘Not everyone can wear this kind of thing,’ the sales girl had remarked, ‘but you sure have the figure for it.’
Sera’s only reservation had been the scooped neckline, which revealed the soft swell of her breasts and more than a glimpse of cleavage.
She was wearing her only piece of jewellery, a long, thin, silver chain that looped