It's been so nice to finally get back to these two again. A big thankyou to all who have read and reviewed, and if you happen to stumble over this in the future I'd love to hear from you!
Here's the final instalment …
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Epilogue: Two Years Later
It was a cloudless day in late June and a gentle breeze fluttered the curtains as Sophie gazed longingly out of the window and down towards the distant ocean. Maybe she and Alexander could enjoy an evening stroll after dinner that night, it was weeks since she'd been allowed out of the house. Seating herself at her dressing table she gazed at her reflection, pleased to see that her eyes were bright and her colour had returned. Brushing her hair slowly she allowed herself a little secret smile. After the doctor's visit earlier she had rather more important plans for her husband first.
There was a gentle tap at the door and then the man in question entered, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror anxiously. His hair was tousled by the breeze and he wore only a waistcoat and an open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead and the exposed 'V' of his chest. He was the picture of masculine vitality, his commanding presence filling the room as though he were still in charge of a ship, and she wondered idly if he'd been chopping wood again.
A wave of desire washed over her as she thought back to that day the previous September when she'd gazed out of the window, unable to tear her eyes away from the vision before her. Stripped to the waist, the muscles bunching in his powerful shoulders each time he slammed the axe down, he was a sight to behold. When he'd finally taken a pause, rubbing the back of his hand over his damp forehead while she enjoyed an uninterrupted view of his naked, tanned torso she hadn't been able to resist any longer, dragging him into the woodshed to have her wicked way with him. Not that he'd made much in the way of complaint, immediately entering into the spirit of things, and she'd found herself pregnant again shortly afterwards.
As he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders something akin to static electricity ran down her arms. His silver blue eyes searched hers for reassurance.
"How do you do, wife?"
She smiled at his reflection and reached up to squeeze his fingers.
"I do very well thank you, husband. In fact the doctor has declared me fully recovered." A shadow crossed her face. "But it seems there will be no more children, Alexander. I'm so sorry …"
To her great surprise he closed his eyes and gazed heavenwards, his voice gruff with emotion.
"Thank God …"
He took two steps backwards and sat down heavily on the bed, his head in his hands, and she swivelled in her chair to face him.
"You are truly not upset?"
He raised his head again to look at her and the relief was written clearly in his face.
"Sweetheart, I have two beautiful healthy children and a wife I adore, a wife whom I very nearly lost. I consider myself extremely well blessed under the circumstances."
He gazed at her like a starving man confronted with a plate of the most delicious food and she pressed her thighs together, aware of a desperate aching need for his touch. Running a hand distractedly through his hair, he shook his head as though he couldn't quite believe the news.
"I thought I might never be able to be a proper husband to you again, and I didn't know how I was going to bear it."
"I don't understand …"
She furrowed her brows in confusion and he sighed heavily.
"I could never have been responsible for getting you with child again, love. We couldn't take that risk."
Suddenly many things began to make a lot more sense, and her heart leapt.
"So that's why you haven't touched me all this time? I thought … well, never mind what I thought, it doesn't matter now." She grinned wickedly at him. "So have you and your right hand become well acquainted again, husband mine?"
He snorted.
"Indeed we have. And let me tell you it is a poor substitute for marital relations, lass."
She got to her feet, smiling seductively as she shed her robe and stood in front of him wearing only her white cotton nightdress, the outline of her body clearly visible through the thin fabric. His eyes darkened and he licked his lips as his gaze roamed over her, taking in the erect nipples and the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs.
"Sophie, you look as beautiful as you did that first night you came to me."
Her smile widened as she took two paces towards him.
"The doctor tells me I can resume my wifely duties as of now …"
He pulled her down into his lap and kissed her thoroughly for the first time in many weeks before his mouth moved lower, nuzzling her throat and pressing hot kisses along her collarbone. She sighed with pleasure as her fingers threaded through his hair, feeling him already hard against her hip.
" ... so you may demand your conjugal rights as often as you like from now on, husband."
He raised his head and the fire burning in his eyes caused a rush of moisture between her thighs.
"How long have we got, sweetheart?"
She smirked down at him, twisting a lock of his hair teasingly round a finger.
"Sally has taken the children out for a nice long walk. It's such a lovely afternoon I asked her not to hurry back …"
"Oh good." He waggled his eyebrows at her, a smile tugging at his lips. "In that case, permission to come aboard, wife."
She giggled, but it swiftly turned into a throaty moan as his hot mouth closed over a straining nipple through the fabric of her nightdress.
"Mmmm … Alex …"
One hand slipped under the hem of the offending garment and his fingers slid slowly up her naked thigh until his thumb brushed its intended target and began to rub gently. She squirmed in his lap, consumed now by a desperate need.
"Permission … oh God … well and truly … don't stop … granted!"
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Phil in period costume – it just works so well, doesn't it? Rumour has it he'll be appearing in an episode of Poirot in the near future. Bring it on!
Meanwhile, I hope you enjoyed. If so, please take the time to let me know.