Page 65 of Richard

Her smile flashed alluringly. “I thought we would have all night.”

“I shouldn’t– we shouldn’t–”

He stopped the flow of words effectively by wrapping her fingers around the thick length of his arousal.

*****

Their honeymoon was magical. He took her to places where he had invested in real estate. They went to the Bahamas and then Hawaii. St. Vincent was their next destination, and they spent two weeks basking in the warmth of the islands.

He treated her like a queen. As soon as the press found out about their nuptials, they went crazy and, of course, it was brought to the public’s attention about her past. By that time, Collette did not care.

She went to every function with him, and they were frequently photographed together. Their obvious intimacy was commented on. Richard McBride was in love, and it showed.

What was even more astounding was the fact that his bride was not someone from his society. But then again, it was also noted that most of the members of the Elite Club had fallen for women of color; most of those women had been ordinary members of society. It had become a pattern, as one reporter commented.

Christmas came and went, with him taking her skiing in Switzerland, where they stayed at his chateau and could not believe she did not know how to ski. He remedied that, and after several failed attempts with her landing flat on her backside, shebecame a fairly decent student.

He argued with his fleet of expensive lawyers who insisted on her signing a post nuptial agreement. Richard’s holdings were vast, and they had been dismayed to learn that he had gotten married without consulting them on the legalities of it.

He had told them to go to hell. But Collette had insisted on signing the agreement. She didn’t care about his money; all she wanted was the man. He spoiled her. She would arrive home to see something else he ordered for her.

She had more clothes than she could possibly wear and when she remarked on that, he had reminded her that they were required to entertain frequently. “I never minded this before, hon, but people will be watching to see what you are wearing.”

And he was right. The question: “Who are you wearing, Collette,” was shouted at her more times than she could count.

She was deliriously happy, and so was her sister. Janice andLenny had formed an attachment, something she had been wary about. But Lenny had assured her that it was real.

“My best friend married my best gal, so I have to settle for second best," he told her teasingly before sobering. “She is good for me, darling. We bonded at your wedding reception and found something in each other.

She makes me happy, and she told me everything that happened between the two of you. I was prepared to hate her for hurting you, but the opposite happened.”

They had been married a month when Richard came home to darkness and an absence of her in the living room or kitchen waiting for him.

He had called her at the agency and was told that she left early, and tried her on her cell, but it had gone straight to voicemail. He had left a message, telling her he was running late as he was going to be in the studio.

A frown touched his brow as he went through the downstairs rooms, including the library and the gym, before venturing upstairs.

Stepping into their suite, he noticed in alarm that she was curled up on the bed, wearing the same clothes she had worn to work this morning. And the room was in complete darkness, except for the sliver of light from the moon shining through the floor-to-ceiling window.

Fear had him bridging the distance until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. And when he saw the tears, it escalated to new heights.

“Oh Richard!” He caught her in his arms when she hurled herself against him and started sobbing. He went stiff with apprehension, and every debilitating illness flashed through his mind. She was sick.

When he could not get her, she must have gone to the doctor. And the diagnosis was bad. He had prayed and asked God for sixty years at least so that he could make up for the time he had lost with her. He was in his mid-forties, and that was not enough.

God had not granted his wish. He was going to lose her to some incurable illness. He was too happy and, in his estimation, whenever one was that happy and he was delirious with it! When one was so happy there were bound to be repercussions.

He had to know, no matter how awful it was, he had to know what was going on. Clamping his hands on her shoulders, he eased her away from him, expression bleak.

“What’s wrong?” he could barely form the words.

“I am not pregnant.”

Of all the things he expected to hear, it was certainly not that. “What?”

“I am not pregnant.” She whispered hoarsely. “My periods came this afternoon while I was at work. Oh Richard, I had so hoped–”She started crying again, and he crushed her against him, his relief so palpable, he could scarcely breathe. She was not dying! Thank Christ! She was not dying.

“Baby, stop.” He shook her firmly. “It’s hardly the end of the world, and certainly no cause for you to be getting so upset.”