§ § § -- September 10, 2003
Christian scrubbed a hand over his face, emerging from the bathroom and giving a long yawn. "I feel as if I could sleep till next month," he murmured.
"You're really that tired?" Leslie asked, watching him from the bed where she sat. She was clad in a light summer nightshift and had been idly paging through a magazine, which she now tossed aside. "It's not that late."
"No, but I think I've been awake too long," he said teasingly and slipped into the bed beside her. "You don't have to go to sleep right away if you don't want to, my Rose, but I don't think I can stay awake much longer. Go ahead and read if you like."
But Leslie had lost interest in the magazine and shrugged. "No, I don't think I'll bother," she murmured. She glanced wistfully at him, watching him turn out the lamp on his nightstand and settle down for some sleep. He caught her at it and paused, peering at her curiously.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She hesitated, he yawned yet again, and she gave up. "No, it's okay," she said softly. "I think maybe I'll go in and play on the computer for awhile or something."
Christian stopped moving altogether and stared at her in surprise. "You will?"
"Is that so strange?" Leslie asked.
Christian chuckled. "Well, I suppose not, but you…I don't know, you look as if something's gone very wrong. Why don't you tell me about it, my darling?"
"Oh, it's really nothing," she insisted, her voice still soft. "Go ahead and get some sleep, my love. I'll be in a little later." She slid out of the bed and started for the library, wondering if she might be able to lose herself in a few mindless games of freecell solitaire.
"Leslie," Christian said from behind her, and she stopped and turned to him. His expression was gently stern. "It's not like you to hold back from me. Something's bothering you, I can see it. Never mind the computer. Come over here and talk to me."
She slowly retraced her steps to the bed and stopped beside it, regarding him. "It's not so much that there's something bothering me," she said finally. "I was just hoping we could make love, but if you're too tired…"
"Oh," he said and grinned. "Is that all? I'll make certain you're too worn out to do anything more than fall asleep right here at my side, before I'm finished with you." He patted the mattress on her side of the bed. "Get in here so I can have my way with you."
Leslie burst into laughter and gladly crawled in beside him, a strange sense of relief sweeping her. "Maybe I'll wear you out first," she teased him.
"We'll see about that," Christian retorted and kissed her before she could find a response. With a happy sigh she surrendered to him, and her last thought was, Maybe this time, before she completely lost herself in him.
September 17, 2003
"…And it was actually the first time I'd been down there since Mr. Roarke swept out the bad elements," Christian was saying, sitting in the bed with his head hanging while Leslie, using a little sandalwood-scented oil, massaged his back. "I couldn't believe how peaceful it is. But the reminders remain. Those computers withstood so much abuse before the big fire, I'm frankly amazed they continue to function, so I can't say I'm really surprised that one of them finally gave up the ghost. It was much like Mr. Roarke's back in March; the thing just defied every solution I had. I have a feeling each of those machines is going to expire of exhaustion, one at a time, over the next few weeks or months, and there I'll be, making trips down there to try to repair them."
"Just like old times," Leslie teased him, finding a particularly tight spot in one of his muscles and determinedly digging her thumbs into it.
Christian laughed. "Exactly so…aj!" He flinched and then groaned aloud. "Ahhhhh, that feels much better suddenly. You're very good at that, my Rose."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that. I've never given anyone else back rubs like this, so maybe I'm just good at doing yours. I think you just had a muscle kink there." She tipped forward and kissed the back of his neck. "Any more trouble spots?"
"Perhaps when you hit one, I'll realize it then," he murmured. "Don't stop."
Leslie slowly smoothed her hands down his back, gently rubbing the oil into his skin. "I like the scent of this stuff. It reminds me of you."
"Oh?" he prompted.
"That soap you like," she said and smiled dreamily. "When I hug you, I can smell the sandalwood under your cologne. I could go blind and deaf and still be able to know you just from the scent of that soap and the cologne."
"Hmm, I see," came his drowsy response. She heard the sleepy note to his tone and frowned slightly, then caressed back up toward his shoulders and smiled faintly to herself when she came across another tight spot. "Oh, there's one," he said and seemed to brace himself, and she laughed.
"You're not supposed to get all tense," she said. "Relax, my love." She pressed her thumbs into the muscle again, and got the same flinch and exclamation before he wilted and groaned with relief. Leslie chuckled and smoothed his skin again, then slipped her arms around him from behind and slowly caressed his chest, laying her cheek on his shoulder.
Christian hummed softly with enjoyment and slipped a hand under her calf, slowly stroking up and down. "I must admit, that was an excellent idea you had about the back rub. Remind me to do that for you sometime."
"Hmm, I will," she said, smiling to herself and then beginning to trail kisses along his shoulder. "You smell so good…"
Christian stilled, though he was smiling slightly. "Oh?" he murmured. "Should I start wearing this oil instead of my cologne, then?"
"Hm?" she murmured dreamily, now nuzzling his neck.
She wasn't at all aware of it, but Christian had begun to wonder what was happening to Leslie. For the last two weeks there hadn't been one night they'd failed to make love when they were both at home, and he found that just a little odd, even for the two of them. The thing that really struck him about it was that, every single time, it had been at Leslie's urging. Most of the time he was the one who initiated the act, and for a while he'd found it stimulating to have her making the first move. Now he wondered if something was amiss, and finally gave in to the urge to ask. "Leslie, tell me something. What's behind the nightly lovemaking? I don't think you've missed a single night since I returned from London."
She went still and lifted her head. "Do you want to stop?"
"I didn't say that," he assured her, hearing the faint undertone of hurt in her voice, wondering why that was there, too. "I'm just surprised that you're so eager. There isn't something bothering you, is there? Something you'd like to talk about?"
"Of course not, everything's fine," Leslie said, her hands slowly moving over his chest again. "I guess I must have missed you so much while we were apart that I'm trying to make up for lost time."
"I'd say you made up for it and then some," Christian observed lightly. "It's as if you expect us to be apart again and you're storing up."
Leslie moved in closer to him so that she was pressed flush against his back. "Don't you realize what you do to me? I can't resist you, Christian, my love. Somehow I can't seem to get enough of you. I love you so much I can't stay away from you."
He suddenly realized how foolish he must sound. Christian Enstad, you idiot, you're asking your wife why she wants to make love with you? How many other men would kill to have their wives as eager as yours? It's a gift—accept it! Something still nagged at him, in the back of his mind somewhere, but he shut a mental door on it and took her hand, pressing it against him so that she was fully aware of his own state of arousal. It surprised even him; she'd managed to seduce him somehow without his being aware of it, and he was wryly amused at himself. "It seems you've convinced me," he teased her gently, hearing her soft indrawn breath.
"I think you're right," she agreed and slowly, gently, started to massage. It was all she needed to sweep his mind completely clean of any concerns. When he could no longer endure the sweet torture, he lifted himself just enough to turn and face her, then gently pushed her back down onto her pillow. Her soft sigh echoed in his ear and he kissed her, no longer able to hold back. Who cares why she wants to make love. She does, and that's good enough. Besides, I can't resist her either. Christian let himself get drunk on her and forgot everything for the rest of the night.
§ § § -- September 20, 2003
It was a rare Saturday night when all the men were able to get together without their wives. They'd gathered at the Miyamotos' townhouse for this one: Katsumi was working late at the teahouse, holding a ceremony for some visiting Japanese politicians from several prefectures who'd decided to have some business discussions on Fantasy Island, for whatever reasons; 13-year-old Haruko and 5½-year-old Chikako were with her, helping her. So Kazuo, having promised Katsumi that he'd be certain to clean up afterward, had suggested the men watch a late-season soccer match that had been taped in Europe earlier that day for later broadcasting. Kazuo and Christian understood it better than the other men, except perhaps Fernando, who admitted to preferring baseball. Grady, Brian, Nick and Jimmy were football fans, as it turned out, but found they liked soccer enough for the match to hold their interest.
Kazuo had laid in a supply of beer from around the world, and Christian was enjoying an obscure German brand that he'd long ago learned to like in Lilla Jordsö. Kazuo had a bottle of Tsingtao and Fernando had introduced Grady to Dos Equis, from Mexico; the others were drinking American beers. During the less exciting moments in the match—and admittedly, there were many such—the men were talking about one thing and another, and inevitably the conversation included their wives. "I still can't get Camille to make love," Jimmy was complaining with a groan, making the other men look at one another with surprised half-grins. "Ever since Robin was born she claims she gained fifty pounds and has to get rid of it, and she won't let me see her without plenty of clothes on. What is it with women and their obsession with weight?"
"Hey," said Fernando, "weight gain is normal during pregnancy, and the girls are all, what, 38 now? It's harder to lose it the older a woman gets when she has a baby. For that matter, it's harder to lose weight the older you get, baby or no baby, man or woman."
"Yeah…you know, you have a point there," Jimmy admitted, patting his own gut. "I think I've been drinking a little too much of this." He examined his beer bottle, and the others laughed in appreciation. "Must be time for me to start climbing the stairs at the hotel, instead of using the elevator all the time."
There was a commotion on the television set and their attention shifted to that for a moment. "Herregud, he actually scored," Christian said and laughed. "I thought he'd never get anything past that goalie."
"Yeah, the goalie's good, isn't he?" Kazuo agreed. "You must have played a good bit of soccer in your time, Christian—you don't look like you need to worry about a beer gut."
"I never did," Christian said. "but my nephew Rudolf was on a team for several years as a teenager, and when he was fifteen someone accidentally collided with him and his leg was broken. His mother immediately barred him from ever playing again, but my brother talked her around, and he spent three more years playing. Amalia fretted until I suggested we look for some chain mail for him, and that got her so much teasing that she finally stopped complaining."
The other men broke into laughter. "They're putting a team together at the high school, from what I hear," Jimmy remarked. "David wants to play next year."
"I'm sure Camille loves that," Grady said. "Oh, by the way, Brian, how's it feel knowing you're finally going to be a father?"
"What?" said Christian, sitting up in astonishment.
Brian stared at him in surprise. "I thought for sure Leslie would've told you—cripes, she knew before I did, for crying out loud. Lauren's pregnant—almost three months along already. Healthier than a horse, too. I gotta tell you, it was a helluva surprise, her getting pregnant after all this time. I mean, we've been married eight years. We figured we were just gonna be one of those couples that never had kids. Not so much by choice…" He paused, thought that over and then grinned. "Well, it was her choice actually. She just didn't want to get pregnant. Must've heard too many stories about morning sickness and bloated ankles and living in the bathroom." They all laughed again, Christian a little faintly, and Brian's attention refocused on him. "So Leslie didn't mention it?"
"No, she didn't," Christian said slowly, frowning slightly. A moment later he grew aware of the silence and quickly masked his emotions, looking up at Brian, grinning and offering his hand. "Congratulations, then. So are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"
"I'm just hoping for a baby," Brian said, "preferably singular. None of this twins stuff or anything." He shook Christian's hand on the laughter. "In a way I'm a little envious that you and Leslie are still just a couple. Once the kid gets here, Lauren'll be out of commission for a while, and I've almost got more business than I can handle. Might have to take on a couple of temps till the baby gets old enough to bring aboard the boat."
"Then you can have the kid steer the thing while you and Lauren relax," kidded Nick, setting off more chuckling.
"You know," Brian said suddenly, "Lauren told me she ran into Leslie at the hospital the other day. She was waiting for her first prenatal checkup, and in walks Leslie, right out of the blue. Hope she was okay, Christian."
Christian stared at him again. "I…thought she was. That is, she never said a word about going to the doctor."
This time his friends stared back, looking surprised. "You and Leslie okay?" Nick asked. "I mean, we know you two are really tight—can't imagine her not telling you."
"It was probably nothing much," Christian said with a shrug. "She'd mentioned it was time for her annual examination in any case. Mr. Roarke makes certain she goes for one every year about this time, after she collapsed of exhaustion once from working nonstop for several years. It's not as if that would be a surprise."
"True," came agreement from various sources, and the conversation moved along to other subjects, punctuated now and then by some climactic moment in the soccer game. But Christian contributed only occasionally to the talk, slowly swirling what was left of his beer in its bottle, wondering. Leslie hadn't told him about Lauren's pregnancy; she had asked to make love with him just about every night since his return from London; and she had never let him know she had a doctor's appointment. And she'd insisted everything was fine when he'd asked her if she was all right. Something didn't add up here, and he resolved to get her to talk to him once and for all. A nagging suspicion tapped on his brain, and he thought, I don't suppose she's…no, I think she would have said something. Leslie never made a secret of worrying about being barren; I know she wants a baby. Why would she hide that from me? Whether it's that or something else, I really need to get her to talk, before this turns into something harmful to our marriage. He tilted back the beer bottle and stared at the soccer game without quite seeing it.
§ § § -- September 22, 2003
Christian had just picked up Leslie at the main house and they were on their way to the post office and then the grocery store before going home. He was still wondering at her unusual reticence; he hadn't slept too well on Saturday night after returning from the Miyamotos', and only a walk-in customer with a major computer repair had kept him focused at work on Sunday. Leslie had told him about the weekend, and he'd tried to listen, but some of what she'd said had slipped through the cracks because of the issue on his mind. Now he was silent, drumming his fingers on the wheel now and then, before at last giving up and asking straight out, "Leslie, how was that doctor's appointment you had the other day?"
He felt an odd, uneasy jolt when she jerked her head around and stared at him with wide-eyed surprise. "How did you—I mean…" She turned red suddenly.
"I know," said Christian, "you didn't tell me. Why not?"
"It wasn't anything," Leslie said, shrugging. "Just the annual exam." After a moment's pause, she added a little tentatively, "I did ask Dr. Lambert to do a couple of extra tests, but it's not a really big issue."
"It could have been," Christian said a little coolly.
He knew she heard the note of withdrawal in his voice; she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, my love," she said softly, her head drooping. "I just didn't want to bother you with it…it was just a routine thing, and I do it every year. I thought you had enough to think about."
Christian parked the car in front of the post office and killed the engine before turning to her. "Leslie," he said, waited till she turned to him, and continued, "You should know perfectly well by now that you're the most important thing in my life. Whatever else is going on, whether it's work or the house or the family in Lilla Jordsö, none of that means as much to me as you do. I want to know what's happening, and I especially want to know when it's a medical issue. I've told you before that I worry about you." He reached out and ran one finger along the line of her jaw, watching her blush with regret. "Please, my Rose, don't ever hold back anything like that from me. I know you say it was only a routine exam, but how am I to know that unless you tell me so?"
Leslie had gone so red by now that this in itself almost worried him. "I'm really sorry, my love," she said again, very softly. "I should have told you. Dr. Lambert gave me a clean bill of health, if that helps any. She was glad to hear I spent the whole month of July in London with you."
Christian leaned over and gently kissed her. "Good," he said and smiled a little. "It does help. Now, what about those extra tests?"
"Just for some things I had noticed," Leslie said. "Primarily having to do with my period…I'm kind of irregular sometimes." She suddenly scowled fiercely, surprising him. "She mentioned my going on the Pill to regulate it, but I said no. Absolutely not."
"And why not?" he asked.
"Because it doesn't affect my overall health," said Leslie. "I see no reason to fix something that isn't really broken." Her voice caught slightly on the last word and she shrugged again, then met his gaze. "I really am sorry, Christian, believe me. I should have told you on Thursday evening when we both got home from work. How did you find out?"
"I heard accidentally at Kazuo and Katsumi's home Saturday evening. Brian said that Lauren had mentioned seeing you at the hospital. I also found out then that Lauren is pregnant…something else you didn't tell me. Not that it was important, but that surprises me as well." She reddened again and he chuckled softly. "Let's consider it forgotten, my darling, and get things done. Just, please, don't leave me out of matters like that, all right?" She nodded and he dropped another kiss on her lips. "Then it's settled. Come on."
They picked up their mail and bought the groceries they needed, then returned home and put things away. Christian flipped through the mail as she finished straightening up the kitchen, and was opening a bill when she slipped her arms around him from behind and hugged gently. "I missed you this weekend," Leslie said softly.
He smiled. "I missed you as well," he said, extracting the contents of the envelope and frowning down at them. "Ach, herregud, this one's bigger than usual."
"How much bigger?" she asked absently, and he felt her fingers sifting through his hair. "We could forget all about that for a while…"
Once more Christian tensed, and curiosity—tinged with the faintest edge of frustration—overcame him utterly. "All right, Leslie," he said, dropping the bill on the table and turning in her arms, "why? Why is it so urgent that we make love?"
Leslie's eyes went wide with astonishment, and her mouth fell open a little. Was that a trace of fear he saw, too? "I…you—you're asking why?" she said faintly, clearly completely stunned. "Christian, my darling, are you feeling all right?"
"I'm perfectly fine," he said, "just extremely puzzled. You seem very single-minded about it. What about you? Are you certain Dr. Lambert found nothing wrong?"
"Of course, my love," she said, staring up at him. "I'm in good health, that's what she told me." Her eyes changed and she smiled suggestively. "I just want to make both of us feel even better." Before he could say anything, she pulled his head down and kissed him.
As always, that did him in. His mind clouded and he fell under her spell again, wrapping his arms around her and indulging himself in her. He didn't even remember taking her up to the bedroom; he knew only her warmth and her love, and when they lay together in each other's arms, his only thought was how lucky he was to have this woman he'd searched for for so long.