Chapter 8

She could hear the shower running. Hot water, she guessed. Steam always clouded the mirror each time Christian left the bathroom. She imagined the spray of the shower cascading over his naked form, the bare body she had watched the night before as they stood at opposite ends of the shower.

Lying awake in bed, Ana spied sunshine pouring through the slits of the window blinds. Christian must be so pleased that it's a nice day, Ana mused. He had anticipated this day for weeks. She was so excited for him. He was probably grinning in the shower, most likely unable to wash the smile from his lips. Ana loved seeing Christian happy, and as of last night, she realised that she enjoyed seeing and feeling him naked, too.

She glanced over at the clock. Nine thirty-two, the bold numerals read. They were late. Housekeeping was in half an hour.

At least she didn't have to shower, she thought as she scrambled out of bed in a panic. She hated showering in the morning, the weather was cold and it always took too long to dry and style her hair. Her hair had grown longer, and whether it really was or wasn't, Ana was certain it was healthier. Surely she could go without styling it for one day. It would be windy at The Causeway, there was no point. She didn't have time to think about her hair.

The water was still running.

She couldn't find her skinny-legged jeans. Ana flipped through her neatly folded clothes in her suitcase. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn them. At the Blarney Stone. She'd worn them at the Blarney Stone when they sat on the dirty ground. They had needed washing. Christian had done a load of washing at their bed and breakfast in Shannon. The washing was in Christian's bag.

The water stopped running.

She sorted through his messy suitcase, hoping that her jeans weren't creased. When she spotted black denim, she pulled them from the pile. Making a mental note to rearrange Christian's disordered suitcase, Ana pulled her tight jeans over her calves. She froze.

There, on the ground, was a ring box.

Ana pulled her jeans to her hips and reached down for the fallen box that had toppled from Christian's bag in Ana's haste to find her jeans.

She contemplated opening the jewellery box. But when she saw the branded label on the top, she couldn't stop herself. Waterford Crystal. Christian had bought Susannah jewellery. Expensive jewellery.

When she flipped the lid quietly, anger flared in her blood. Her grandmother's ring. For Susannah.

The bathroom door opened, and a fully-clothed Christian stepped out, towel drying his brown, wet curls.

When he looked up, his eyes widened. Ana's lips parted, and her eyes filled with tears.

"You bought my grandmother's ring for Susannah!" she gasped, her tone creased with disappointment.

Christian swallowed. "What?"

Her nimble fingers slammed the box shut, and it snapped in her hand. "I found it in your suitcase!"

He shook his head. "That ring is for you!"

Her eyes widened. "What?"

Christian's tone was calm, but his heart raced with embarrassment, so he cleared his throat. "It's your ring, not Susanna's."

It was silly. Christian cursed himself for not hiding the ring box between folded socks. She had thought her ring was for Susannah. She was hurt, bruised. She wanted a future, and everything a ring promised. She wanted a gift that spoke about generosity and selflessness. She wanted it all from Christian. And she looked absolutely crestfallen. Christian's heart soared.

"Why would you buy me a ring?" she asked sarcastically, disbelieving Christian's story.

Because I love you.

"Because we both know that this is it for us, Ana," he tried so honestly. "I'm going to marry you and you're going to marry me."

Her eyes widened, and she could feel her limbs shaking. Faintness consumed her.

"You don't know that!" she remarked quietly. Her head was clouded with possession. The ring is mine. It's all mine.

He nodded, and a gentle smile played at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I do."

Her throat was tight. She hated confrontation. "Maybe I don't want to be married again..." Ana whispered softly.

Christian paused for a moment. She was lying. She wanted it all.

"Please, this whole trip, you've just loved playing this game," he retorted as he took her in. Why did she have to be so cute? She was so different in Ireland. Relaxed. Darker. "You're infatuated with the idea of marriage," Christian professed.

Ana drew in a breath. It was too early in the day. "I am not!"

He nodded with certainty. "You are." From across the room, she could read his dark eyes as they glared at her. Knowing her so well. "And I'm infatuated with the idea of us."

She hesitated, searching for a retaliation to remove the blame from her part. "Well, I've told you that I'm ready!"

"No you haven't!" he hissed.

Her breathing was erratic. "I make it...I make it so darn obvious!" she stuttered. "I said I'd move in with you and I assume we're going to be sleeping in the same bed." Her voice was shrill. "So why won't you make a move?"

He brought his palm to his chest and covered his heart. "Because it's you, and you're special, and you deserve my patience."

"I don't want to be special!" Ana decided. "It hurts to think that you'll never see me the way you saw Susannah, or your wife!" She bit the inside of her lip, and wished she was so much more for him. "You see them as sexy, and I'm just your friend who, if the time was right, you wouldn't say no to."

"That's crazy."

"Is it, Christian?" Ana prompted angrily. "We've been sleeping in the same bed for three weeks and you won't even touch me."

Christian released a heavy breath. "I was trying to be respectful."

"I don't want your respect," she hissed, and tears burnt her eyes. "I just want you to want me." Would they ever be able to move on? "If you don't, then losing my virginity isn't going to be fuelled with passion and promise, it's just going to be something we do because we've built up to it."

His eyelids fluttered. "You want passion?"

She pointed her finger at him, "I want you," she brought her finger to her chest, "...to want me!"

"You know I want you!" he groaned. "You're teasing me Ana!" he blamed, and Ana watched his jaw clench. "But this isn't about want!" he declared. "This is, and always has been, about your fascination with sex."

"It's not." She blinked twice.

"It is," he explained. "We've been in love with each other for too long and we've been dancing around each other so plainly. And it was fun and gentle and what made me fall so deeply in love with you. But now you've out grown that, and what you want is to...to go to bed with me." Her eyes widened. "You want me to touch you."

She shook her head and closed her eyes. Thank goodness they were both soft spoken. She couldn't deal with the people in the room next door listening in. "I don't know what I want when it comes to that!"

"Of course you know what you want!" he accused. "Don't pretend you haven't imagined what it would be like. I know you're not innocent."

"Nobody's ever wanted me enough to show me what it's like, so I wouldn't know!" Ana lied. "And touching my chest isn't exactly going all the way, Christian!"

He shook his head. "Now you're making me angry, Ana." He looked it, too. She liked him angry. Angry led to initiative. She needed his initiative. The burning knot in her abdomen was desperate for Christian's initiative. "That Paul guy wanted you, José wanted you, and I want you." He could feel his ears burning with anger, resentment, arousal and embarrassment. "You and I were in that shower together last night. It wasn't easy for me to see you like that. You weren't blind to...to how...excited I was."

"Why would you want me?" she hissed with immaturity. "I'm just a virgin!"

He brought his hand to cover his lips in irritation, and he watched her run her hand through her hair. "Because you're just so...god, I don't even know what you are. You're beautiful and sweet and you play the innocent act, and at the end of the day, no matter how hard things get, you'll always support me. But...I just know."

Ana scoffed and pulled down on her sweater. "What do you know?"

"I know that you're selfish sometimes, and you'd do anything to have me," he realised. "And I don't mind...because you're so...beautiful."

Ana was shooting daggers. "Really?"

"It's difficult to be so close to someone so stunning, and know that they're craving intimacy, but not be able to do anything about it," Christian confessed as he grasped the top of one of the end bed posts in his fist.

"I know the feeling," she whispered as he stepped around the bed. Closer to her. "What do you think you would do about it, you know, if you could?" she asked softly.

"Hypothetically?" Christian asked with a distinct hint of annoyance.

She nodded. "Yeah, hypothetically."

"Well...I think I'd find a way to make you...her...feel really good." She could almost feel his body heat. "You know, better than other things she's done."

"Would you lie her down on the bed?" Ana seduced.

"Damn it, Ana!" Christian cursed, frustration etched upon his features. "I don't want to play this anymore." He looked tired, and Ana bit her lip guiltily. "You want to ask questions?" he toyed, stepping closer to her. "Then ask me! Don't be a coward!"

"I'm not a coward!" she shrieked as she stepped backwards. "You're the one always saying we can forget the sex stuff!"

"Well I was wrong! We can't!" he whispered so sorrowfully. He was surrendering, his eyes clouded with a desperation that made her sweat.

He made her heart race.

He stood taller. Ana rested against the door and watched him.

He moved closer. Their gazes were deadlocked.

Staring. Gazing. Teasing.

She reached for him, her fingers grasping the cotton of his t-shirt over his abdomen.

His hands fell to her hips, and her body flushed with heat. She could feel his breath on her neck. Was he going to kiss her? Hug her? Hold her?

His fingers quickly worked the button and fly of her jeans, and her hips instinctively pushed into his palm.

The journey his fingers took into her panties barely registered in his mind. Pale skin he had written on a week ago. He had seen her naked in the shower the night before. Her beautiful body. He'd worship her. But he didn't see a thing at that moment, when Ana was pressed up against the door and his hand was down her pants. His eyes were locked on hers, and Christian was oblivious to any colour other than the blue of her wide eyes.

His fingertips touched heat, and Ana sighed. Her body seemed to fall gently against the door, and Christian bit back a groan.

He felt for it; the nub which would make her tense with arousal at just the slightest touch. When he found it, Ana gasped. Her eyes were darkened by hope. Lustful hope.

Their eyes met, and they realised what they were doing. He was touching her in a place so secret he wondered if she had ever touched herself that way.

He pulled his hand from touching her so intimately, and listened as the band of her cotton panties softly slapped her abdomen. She winced in disappointment. But he had more for her.

Christian slipped his hand down between her panties and her jeans, and dared to trail a finger low. Ana moaned. She actually moaned, and Christian watched her expression as her cheeks flushed pink. His fingers worked up, and down, and back up again. Ana shuddered. She whimpered. She struggled to find breath. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her eyelids slipped closed. When she opened them, her pupils were dilated. Her hips bucked into Christian's hand. She bent her knees slightly. She stood taller. Anything. She just wanted more.

"Does it make you feel insane?" he teased.

Ana's head fell back against the wall.

He could feel the sweat on her inner thighs on the skin of his fingers. The back of his hand was burning as it slid against denim, over and over again. His finger madly drew lines between her clothed folds. Up. Down. Up. Circles.

Her nerves were on fire. She was close.

A knock on the door behind her.

"Housekeeping!"

Christian's finger paused between Ana's legs, and they both froze.

Her eyes widened, and their stare was panicked. Christian glanced down to his trapped hand.

He worked his finger crazily over her nub, and Ana bit back a scream. Her flesh was burning in the most delightful way, and her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades.

"Stop..." Ana gasped, and Christian's fingers ceased their exploration immediately.

A knock again. "Housekeeping!"

"One moment," Christian called. It would only take a moment to finish what they had started.

But Ana was already buttoning up her jeans.

When she opened the door and began a conversation with the hostess, Christian stepped into the bathroom to calm down. He hadn't even realised how aroused he had become, but the bulge in his jeans knew too much.

He sighed. The moment was over.

It was going to be a long day.

XXXX

They were both quiet as they drove to The Giant's Causeway.

Ana's heart absolutely throbbed. After their argument, she had finally discovered what he wanted. And with his long fingers in her pants, she realised she wanted the same thing, too.

The day was beautiful; cold, icy, but sunny. And The Causeway; Ana had never seen anything like it.

"It's almost frightening," Ana remarked as they walked the long, steep path down to the edge of the water.

They had seen chapels and cathedrals, hills and lakes. But nothing compared to the natural wonder that was The Giant's Causeway. Never had Christian seen a place so spiritually divine. Columns of basalt rock stood tall against the ocean cliffs in the distance, and below the hill, they both spied smaller columns which were scattered in the shallow water.

Christian finally felt at peace, and he grasped Ana's hand. He wouldn't change a thing. He had thought his dream ended when he lost the opportunity to start his own conpany. He never realised another dream was already made for him, a fantasy that played unknowingly in his heart and not in his mind. Sometimes, Christian realised, dreams aren't meant to be know. Sometimes they have to come to you, so that one day, you can go back to them.

Ana pulled her coat around her body, and tightened the scarf around her neck. The weather was bitter against her soft skin, and she shivered. Christian wrapped an arm around her, and she welcomed the warm weight.

And then he stopped to the side of the path, and pulled her to him.

She felt his warm breath on her cheek before he buried his face in her neck. His firm hands on her back felt comforting. She could never have travelled across the world without him.

"Thank you, Ana."

His whisper was soft. He was more than any other man she had ever known. He was everything she had never imagined. So delicate, so simply sensitive, and so remarkably strong.

She brought her fingers over his back, and held him to her. His woollen beanie scratched her forehead softly.

"It's okay, Christian," she whispered. She could feel the eyes of passing tourists focused on them.

He pulled back and smiled widely.

They explored the spot together, reading signs and their information booklets to grasp an understanding of where they were and why they were there. They stepped over basalt rocks that lay by the seaside, and climbed rock structures with care.

They had walked all day, and by sunset, they found themselves by the shore again. The spot was almost bare of tourists, and those that remained were high on another hill. The place was clear of any nuances for Christian's camera lens. Christian captured the pictures he was so desperate for, and when he was finished, he turned to smile at Ana. But she was in another world.

She was gazing across the ocean, trying to see Scotland from the edge of the sea. The wind had picked up her brown hair, and it flew around her face as her wide blue eyes strained.

"Will you marry me?" Christian whispered.

Ana swivelled on the spot, and gazed up into Christian's eyes. He was so handsome. And he loved her so deeply. At a proposal, for the very first time in her life, Ana didn't ask herself if she could do better. This was what she wanted. In a room full of doctors and lawyers, firemen and celebrities, she'd pick Christian every time.

"Yes," she breathed. "I'll marry you."

He swallowed. "I don't have the ring with me."

She shook her head and her chin quivered with happiness. "That's okay, I-"

"Will you marry me right now?" he rephrased hastily.

Her eyes widened, and she turned to look for some sort of set up. Nobody was there. Just Christian. Christian with his watchful and hopeful gaze. To be his wife at that moment? Was it too much to ask?

"I married a man last year on a crazy impulse, and-"

Christian chuckled. "I don't have a priest or papers, Ana." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "It's obviously not legal, or a wedding." Ana read his eyes. There was so much more to know. "We've done the wedding separately. Can we have the marriage together?" She seemed to float out of her body. He kept her grounded. "Will you let me be your husband?" he whispered above the wind.

She left his gaze for a moment and glanced across the sea. Across water and nothingness. Everything was standing beside her.

She turned her head and looked into his eyes.

"I vow to love you forever," Ana promised, as her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I promise to be faithful to you, Ana." He reached for her hand. "I'll only ever want you." Words seemed to escape her. She parted her lips. She closed them again.

"Do you have anything else to add?" Christian chuckled, and Ana's heart soared.

She blushed and glanced down. "I'm going to kiss you now," Christian grinned.

His warm palm rested on her cold cheek, and when his lips touched hers, she felt life breathed into her.

Her lips parted against his, and his murmur of "I love you" was met with hers. She could feel his flesh against her own, and it warmed her blood. He tasted like coffee and butterscotch. Delicious. She wanted more. She always wanted more. And now she would be able to tell him, because he was her husband, and she never wanted any secrets in their marriage.

He ran his tongue along hers. Wet. Warm. So easy. They had everything. They didn't need to be scared. When they arrived home, he'd marry her legally. A wedding with his parents and hers, his brother and sister, and Avery. None of it mattered. They were bound together. He'd just married the love of his life where it all ended and began.

Ana gasped, and searched for words. "Please don't stop kissing me," she whispered, desperately afraid of deprivation.

His fingers raked into her hair, her brown waves that allowed him to spot her from a distance. Hair that had haunted many of his dreams.

He curled her body into him, and wished to feel her heartbeat against his. But their heavy coats kept them apart. Soon, Christian thought. Soon you'll get to feel her heartbeat against yours. Her small breasts pressed against your chest. It will be so warm when you're together.

Their kissing soon ceased, and lightness began to seep away into night. They made their way back to the top of the cliff, and giddily drove to the bed and breakfast. They were shy with each other, the enormity of what had happened not quite sinking in. They had married. Silly, perhaps. But so romantic and more profound than the certainty that any law could determine. A promise. And that's what marriage was, wasn't it? She was somebody's wife again. She was Christian's wife for the very first time. And he was her husband.

They ate dinner at the bed and breakfast, and blushed over the dim lighting of the small restaurant. It was a lovely home cooked meal, and they held hands as they picked at carrots and potatoes.

And then Ana realised.

It was her wedding night. Well, there hadn't been a wedding as such. But it was her first night as Christian's bride. Their relationship was irrevocably altered. Would they consummate their promise in the rackety brass bed upstairs? She panicked with trepid excitement.

Christian hadn't thought about it. All he could think was that there was a ring upstairs with her name on it, a distinct resemblance to her grandmother's ring. He wanted to put it on her finger. He wanted to see the small circle shining from her hand. The same hand that had held his all night.

They were married.

XXXX

When he followed her up the carpeted stairs after dinner, she felt his eyes lingering on her body. Three steps behind, and his gaze was fixated on her behind, the way her hips swayed in the tight black denim.

He carried her coat for her, and pushed open their bedroom door after she unlocked it.

The wind was wild against the frosted glass of the window. Howling. Smashing against the stubborn glass. A lamp flickered in the corner of the room. Ana stood, and took it all in. Our very own love nest.

When she turned, Christian was unzipping his suitcase. The ring, she realised. He's going to put the ring on my finger and then it's decided. There's no turning back. Not that there is now.

He stood nervously, and opened the ring box. He peered inside, and his expression was one of surprise, as though he hadn't expected to find the pearl encased in white gold. The box wasn't empty.

She gazed lovingly at his expression. So hopeful. In love. Peaceful, calm Christian. She hoped she'd never break his heart.

When he looked up, he met her stare.

His eyes were on fire.

XXXX

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who reviews!

There's two chapters left! But I have another old story, that I have to edit, and I'll be posting it soon! Let me know if you want to read another one :)