Ria was a little feverish that evening. The time she had spent in the outdoor pool despite being asked to come in, had made her catch a chill and she had been sneezing at dinnertime as well. She had a small slice of pie which was unusual enough for her. Having forced her to have some broth that I had fixed for her, I stood, worriedly, fussing over her when Gaston entered for dinner.
Scrambling down from her seat, she trundled over to him and clasped his knees.
I felt a pang of jealousy.
How soon she had accepted him in her life, I thought.
Gaston picked her up immediately and frowned across at me,
' She's burning. She has a fever, woman!.' He was almost yelling at me, his eyes hot embers of fury.
Good grief, I thought crossly, I had been a veteran of colds and coughs and fevers with the kids when we were in Bhutan, struggling all alone. One sneeze and the man was behaving like he was being decapitated!
Hands on my hips, I pursed my lips.
'Yes, I answered crossly. 'She spent too much time in the pool.'
"I did not, Mumma you are sneaky.'
She cried, nestling her face in her father's broad shoulder.
Then clinging to him she went on in a sweet voice,
"Pappa, please read me my bedtime story.'
I watched Gaston.
He was tired, the lines of fatigue and worry on his face were intensified and I felt a deep sense of sadness. How I longed to kiss that forehead, that firm mouth, the square chin...
He turned and surprised the look of longing on my face.
A flash of hunger on his face which was quickly hidden made me tense.
Perhaps Schwartz had been right after all I mused.
"Ria, let your Pappa have his dinner, sweetheart,' I said soothingly, going across to the father-daughter duo.
Gaston was kissing the little girl's blonde curls, his expression soft.
"No,' wailed Ria as Piers watched in alarm, "No, I want my Pappa...!!!"
Gaston's eyes met my flustered gaze.
"I'll read your story to you, sweetheart,' he murmured and limped out, carrying her as I stood staring after them in surprise.
Same time later, I went over to the children's bedroom and stopped a little in the doorway.
My lover, large and powerful, was reading a story about a frog to his daughter who lay in his arms, clutching him. He gently lowered her to the bed as one of the maids who was standing by, stepped forward. Motioning to them to move away, I watched the tender way he pulled the covers over her, stooping to place a loving kiss on her forehead.
My eyes were too full for me to see straight and I stumbled backward, stuffing my fist into my mouth.
'I felt him coming up behind me. Sensed his big body close to me but I refused to turn to look at him.
Gaston did not see me as I hurried away, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I thought of how beautiful they looked together, my lover and my daughter.
If only, I thought, if only...
***
That night, like many other nights before that, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I had sent my presentation to the Study Center, had made my study notes, and was trying desperately to sleep. Soon my pyjamas were damp with perspiration and finally, I waddled over to the shower. Standing under it made me calmer.
I had been dreaming of Gaston, the way he used to make love to me, his powerful corded arms, the muscular torso, the hairy chest with the flat, dark nipples which I used to lick, to suck and get him aroused without any difficulty...the hardness of his large, thick manhood and the way I was helpless with arousal beneath him...
It made me wet and I knew that I needed him, I wanted my lover so badly it was like a physical ache.
***
Drying my hair, I looked for a night suit to replace the one I had tossed into the laundry. Instead, as I stood in the walk-in wardrobe, rifling through my now extensive array of clothes, I came across a shirt of his,
It had been there for a while and there had been days when I had hugged it to myself when I slept, thinking of him.
Instinctively, I pulled it on. I knew that the security men in the house would not be around, they had strict instructions to stay and patrol on the grounds at night; so, leaving out my underwear (I was heading to bed anyway, I reasoned) I climbed back between the sheets. I preferred to sleep naked to avoid feeling hot.
***
But a rumble in my stomach made me want to eat; the thought of the delicious chocolate ice cream that Gaston had supposedly got for the children last night, seemed to swim tantalizingly before my eyes.
Finally, giving up, I scrambled out of bed and crept downstairs.
It was almost three in the morning. As I crossed to the kitchen, creeping all the way, I imagined that I heard Gaston's voice coming from his study.
We had been avoiding each other like polite strangers, tiptoeing around each other carefully although it was very obvious that we were only too aware of each other. This evening had been strange, one of the rare occasions when we had come close to having a conversation.
I made it a point to stay away from him when he was at dinner
Occasionally, I had looked up to find him staring at me, his heavy-lidded gaze broodingly fixed on me. I merely ignored him.
***
I had succeeded in involving myself with my Study Center, my children, and the cooking and baking which I loved. Besides, my work and my course took up my free time. My twins needed me and the baby I was carrying was important for me, all of it kept me occupied
I lived in Gaston's house, I was carrying his child but we never spoke to each other directly.
Yet I had managed to carve out a comfortable niche for myself.
Strangely enough, I felt comfortable.
I focused on the NOW.
It had made a change.
Except for the nights when I longed to turn around and feel his big warm body beside me on my huge, empty bed...
***
That night was different though.
But my craving for ice cream was too great.
He'll be at work, anyways, I told myself as I scampered across to the huge kitchen and attacked the ice cream like one who was starved.
***
The kitchen light was on, thought Gaston, as he walked to the elevator that would take him straight to his rooms. Frowning, he walked across and stopped in the doorway.