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*****
“Darling, youare just getting in from the office?”
“No. I had arun to make.” He forced a smile to his lips as he walked overto kiss her. He also managed to mask his annoyance at being waylaidby his mother. He wanted to be alone and was not in the mood for aconversation. But she was in the living room, curled up in front ofthe fire with a glass of wine.
“You look tiredand sad. What is it?”
“Nothing.”Turning around, he went to the liquor cabinet and poured a half glassof scotch.
“Darling, Iknow my son, and something is bothering you. I know I pushed you inat the deep end, and you just got back-”
“Mother,work is fine. I happen to know what I am doing.”
“Then if it’snot work, what is it?”
“Leave italone.”
“One of themain things I love about our relationship is the ability to talk toeach other. I have always been impressed by that. You could come tome and tell me anything, and I will try to fix it. That has notchanged. I know you are an adult and have been for a long time, butyou are still my son, and I love you more than anything.”
His expressionsoftened. Pulling the chair across from her, he took her hand in his.“I know.”
“Good.”
“And there aresome things I must do alone.”
“Without helpfrom your dear mother.”
“Yes.” Herubbed a thumb over the sapphire ring on her index finger. “Ihave been away for almost a year, and during that time, I havemanaged to make my own decisions.”
She looked at him fondly.“You are so handsome; sometimes, I find it hard to believe youare my son.”
He smiled at that.“You are not such an ogre yourself.”
She laughed, and hehad to smile. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it softly. “Youhave always been there for me, mother; that is something I appreciateand will never take for granted.”
“But you do notneed your mama with whatever you are struggling with.”
“No.”Letting go of her hand, he tossed back the liquor and rose. “Iam off to bed. How was the meeting?”
“Productive. Iam reminding you of the dinner party.”
“How couldI forget? Good night, mother.”
She watched himleave, a tall, lean figure with thick, dense blonde hair and broadshoulders. An imposing figure - her very handsome son. He was notlike Bart, his father, and for that, she was grateful. He was sweetand would not dream of deliberately hurting anyone. Her husband hadnot cared about that.
He had been carelesswith his feelings. She had never loved him because he had made thatextremely difficult. But he had not wanted her love, just a son tocarry on his name, and had considered that the extent of his duties.And her on his arm whenever he had to attend a function.
Now, he was gone, andshe was relieved. The scandal had marred her and changed her. Beingmarried to him had changed her and forced her to grow up and to do itquickly. His death, the entire nasty deal, had also forced her toclimb out of her misery to take charge, and she had found her niche.She was extremely good at what she did.
Her son was home withher, and she was in charge of a successful company. Her sex life wasexciting, even if Allan tended to get on her nerves. She felt herbody stirring to life at the thought of his lean body and hisimpressive sex. The heat flooded her being, making her gasp. Reachingfor the phone, she brought up his number.
“I need you.”She told him without preamble. “Right now.” Withoutwaiting for him to agree or object, she hung up with the certaintythat he would not refuse her.
*****
He could not sleep.He had taken a cold shower wrapped in his warm terry cloth robe. Hewas sitting and staring into the mesmerizing flames, his handsclasped loosely between his thighs. He was hot for her. He had toldher he would not consummate the relationship until his ring was onher finger, and she wondered if he was out of his mind.
He had her in thebackseat of his car, and it would have been a simple matter for himto just unzip and sink himself into her. But for some reason, hewanted to wait for them to get married.
