Author's note: I'd be embarrassed to tell you how long I spent deciding how to spell "Boadicea"; eventually settling on the version most used by Americans, since that is the nationality of our main protagonists. If you're unhappy with my choice, please direct all your complaints to the ancient Romans; they started this mess in the first place.

The details of their hike can be found by searching "Borger Dalr geology walk, Borrowdale".

Bonus sex scene (indirectly) courtesy of my poor husband, who is suffering a nasty cold and doesn't want to inflict it on me when we're going away for a week. Remember; skiing trip? See you not very soon. Enjoy. And, thank you, for reading.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Ana startles awake to the shrill, foreign sound of the phone on the nightstand, just before a fully dressed Christian brusquely answers it, "Thank you." Hanging up, he perches on the bed and gently pushes her unruly bed hair from her face as he says, "Sorry, baby. I forgot to cancel the wakeup call. You've got time for a quick shower before breakfast, but don't wash your hair. It's cold enough outside that it might freeze to your head if it's damp."

Capturing his hand and kissing the palm in greeting before releasing it and stretching like a cat, uncaring that her breasts are then revealed, Ana sleepily says, "Morning, husband. How long have you been up?"

Unashamedly ogling her bare breasts, Christian leers, "About two seconds."

An answering passion languidly spreading through her body, her nipples crinkling as if on command, Ana giggles. "Not that sort of 'up'. Did you have a nightmare?"

Suddenly serious, Christian reveals, "No, I…the weather is really bad. I've just been talking to our guide."

"The storm is here early?"

"No; still not due to hit until we're snug in our hotel room tonight. But more snow fell overnight, it's currently raining nonstop, and the wind will be fairly howling up in the hills."

"What does our guide say?"

"That if we don't mind cold, wind, rain and maybe snow, we should be fine."

Hoping to make light of the situation, because she knows that Christian is considering cancelling their hike out of concern for her and Blip, Ana laughs and says, "Did you tell them we're from Seattle?" When he only smiles a little at that, she pleads, "I'm really looking forward to it. I've wanted to go hiking with you since…well, forever, but we never have time at home. And Lea or Nigel will accompany us, right?"

Christian nods and reveals, "Nigel; Bree, too…just in case. Lea will keep an eye on Carla." Finally able to smile, confirming that he's decided to proceed, he jokes, "Dangerous things, pedicures."

Sitting up, Ana plants a grateful kiss on his cheek and says, "Thank you. I will have that shower. Don't wait if breakfast arrives before I'm done." When Christian doesn't move out of her way and his suddenly intense gaze traces the curves of her body like a caress, that smoldering hunger within Ana's body becomes a roaring fire and she eagerly asks, "Not having a shower just yet?"

Suddenly standing and shedding clothes like Clark Kent changing into Superman, Christian says, "Not alone." He's only removed his sweater and t-shirt when Ana leaps out of bed and rushes past him. Quick as ever, nabbing her wrist, he asks, "Going somewhere, wife?"

Rolling her eyes before she can stop herself, Ana says, "Bathroom? You do remember that I'm pregnant with our child, right?"

Dragging her closer, he runs a hand over her protruding belly and proudly says, "Oh, I remember; such a turn on now that you're showing."

Smiling at his possessive tone, Ana suggests, "Proof of your virility?"

"Something like that, I suspect…maybe evidence of our bond, too. But it feels too deep for words."

Ana smiles and affectionately pronounces, "Caveman." Christian's expression has become more intense and he's drawing her into his embrace when Ana reminds him, "Still need to pee."

Immediately releasing her, Christian pouts, "Fuck, I'll be glad when that's over."

Turning and heading to the bathroom, Ana says, "Not as glad as me. Ow!"

Whirling on him, one hand on her stinging backside, Ana has to laugh when Christian explains, with great satisfaction, "You rolled your eyes."

Not genuinely concerned – she knows that he's playing – Ana says, "And we agreed to wait before resuming Discipline."

Christian shrugs and suggests, one eyebrow raised, "Call it foreplay, then?"

Of course, Christian's hand on her ass, when she was already ablaze with desire, is exactly that; the slight, burning pain further fanning the flame within. As ever, unwilling to concede the point, Ana approaches and trails one fingertip down his bare chest, twice round his navel, down that promising column of hair to the low slung waistband of his jeans. Pouring all her need for him into her voice, she then says, "Why don't you warm up the shower, husband? I'll be with you very soon."

Backing away this time, so he can't regain the upper…palm, Ana is rewarded by Christian's hissed, "Fuck, you're good at this."

Delighted that it worked so well, Christian's readiness evident in the prominent bulge in his jeans, Ana laughs as she heads for the en suite. "I learned from an expert."

She hears the shower start while she's in the thankfully private toilet. For some reason quickly cleaning her hands even though she's about to enter the shower, Ana sees that Christian is washing his hair, facing away from her. Joining him as quietly as possible, she warns "Keep your eyes closed, or you'll get shampoo in them," then rests her hands on his hips for the second it takes him to recover from the surprise. Next pressing her palms flat against his back, she comments, "I don't get to do this nearly often enough," as she travels the contours of his sculpted muscles with her eager hands.

"Mmm…I guess not; I'm always indulging my need to enjoy the delights of your body. I forget that you like mine just as much."

Resting her face against him, reaching around to caress his equally well-defined midriff, unmindful of the soapy water flowing over both of them, Ana insists, "More."

Christian chuckles and says, "I seriously doubt that, baby." Then quickly rinsing his hair and turning in her arms, he adds, "Breakfast will be here soon. How about we fuck now, and you can make love to me tonight?"

Shaking her head a little, in an effort to reconcile the suddenly potent feelings these words elicit, Ana reveals, "That's maybe the sexiest thing you've ever said to me."

His eyes gleaming with love and lust, gently forcing her back against the tiles, the cold marble cooling her skin, but not her ardor, Christian secures both her wrists high above her head in one of his hands as he says "I think I'd better test this theory," even as his other hand tweaks a nipple, making her tense in delighted surprise, before caressing down her body, towards her groin.

"Oh, God. Please, Christian."

"Please what, baby?"

"Just please."

One finger teasing at her entrance, even as his thumb deftly flicks across her clitoris, Christian asks, "Because it's all good?"

Already lost in a universe of pleasure, Ana summons a distant memory of how to form words. "Because it's all fucking fantastic."

Without another word, Christian turns Ana, silently guiding her body into a wide stance against the shower wall. His feet placed behind hers, so there is no chance she'll fall, he bends his knees and almost too slowly enters her, savoring the moment with a long, drawn out sigh. With both of them so ready, it doesn't take long before first Ana and then Christian reach their goal; Christian almost lifting Ana off the floor as he slams into her from behind, his fingers entwined in hers where their hands now rest against the wall.

Finally easing out of her, as he leaves a row of grateful kisses along her shoulders, he jokes, "I do love starting the day with a bang." They both hear the knock at the door. "That'll be breakfast." Sticking his head out of the cubicle, Christian yells, "Just a minute!"

Ana has turned to face him, but is leaning against the wall, hands by her sides, palms flat against the tiles; her entire body ever so slightly trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. Perfunctorily rinsing his dick in the still cascading water, Christian asks, "You okay, baby?"

Nodding, so he won't worry, Ana manages, "Trying to remember how to use my body without you telling it what to do."

Beaming his approval of her reply, he quickly kisses her and exits as he reiterates, "Mine."

Summoning the strength to move into the steady stream of water and reach for the body wash, Ana watches her gorgeous husband wrap a towel around his waist and leave the en suite, apparently uncaring of the droplets of water still cascading down his body and thinks that, if he returned and insisted on another round, she'd be more than happy to oblige.

Their three hour hike, beginning in the village of Grange, Borrowdale, starts just after dawn under almost black storm clouds, in a harsh rain that feels on the very cusp of freezing, that gets progressively worse as they head up into the hills around the valley; the relentless wind soon blowing the biting droplets sideways into what little of their faces are exposed to the elements. Still, they're dressed for the hostile conditions, so Ana has a wonderful time. And, of course, that's enough to ensure that Christian is also sporting a fierce grin every time she smiles at him. They hold hands – well, gloves – where the trail permits, and take turns extolling the beauty of the wilderness around them when not listening to their personable and knowledgeable guide. When they reach Castle Crag, site of an Iron Age fort high above the valley, Ana's feet are drawn, as if with a will of their own, towards a narrow outcrop extending out over the pastureland below, until Christian's concerned "Ana," stops her.

Feeling, in some undefinable way, a sudden and powerful kinship with her ancestors, who may well have stood on this very spot – cold rain stinging their cheeks as they stared out at what was then a large lake – Ana looks to their guide, who says, "It's stable enough, but obviously risky if you go close to the edge."

Christian has heard, so Ana smiles reassuringly at him and instructs, "You can stay as close behind me as you like, but please don't touch me." When his only answer is a twitch of his clenched jaw, she promises, "I'll be careful."

His expression warring between concern and curiosity, Christian does Ana the courtesy of trusting her enough to nod, even as he issues a silent command to Nigel. Mindful of her footing on the loose rocks near the edge of the cliff, Ana cautiously proceeds until Christian gruffly begs, "Enough."

Nodding her comprehension of his limits, Ana then pushes back the hood of her raincoat, removes her beanie and scarf, and stows them, along with her gloves, inside the ample pockets of her coat. Face open to the tempestuous sky, she needs both hands to tame her instantly damp, windswept hair as she silently celebrates feeling this close to nature. It takes only seconds to appease this need in her, that she hadn't even been aware of until just now. Then reaching blindly behind her, she turns only when Christian's firm grip on her wrist will ensure her safe retreat to more stable ground. As she again wraps up against the cold, she can't quite discern the thought behind his stare and asks, "What?" When he can only shake his head in wonder at her antics, she moves into his embrace and offers him a grateful kiss before whispering, for his ears only, "I know; I kind of want to fuck you, too."

Christian laughs and kisses her, lingering this time, then lovingly pronounces, "You're insane."

They're about to head off again when Bree says, "Sir?"

Glancing at her, to see that she's proffering her compact camera, Christian accepts it and shields it from the rain as he looks at the selected photo; Ana in profile as she stands on the cliff, flanked by Nigel and Christian, as if they're her servants, her hands rising towards her wild, auburn locks, looking for all the world as if she's beseeching some unseen force. Mesmerized by the tiny image, he stares at it for several seconds and then asks Bree, even as he hands the camera to Ana, "Can you send it to me?"

"Of course, sir. I'll do so tonight."

Ana also looks at it for several seconds, then returns the camera to its owner as she says, "Thanks. Doesn't even really look like me, does it?"

Christian and their amateur photographer nurse exchange a knowing glance, then he says, "Baby, it is you; brave, strong and powerful." With a wink at Bree, he adds, "Also, sexy as hell."

Blushing at such high praise, especially in company, Ana ineffectually slaps his arm as she says, "Stop kidding around."

Laughing at little at her modesty, Christian insists, "I'm not. Bree?"

Smiling, Bree says, "I'm afraid he's right, Ana. I am in the fortunate position of being able to choose my clients. When the agency contacted me, I checked you out. So I knew that you were incredibly brave and very strong even before we met." With a cheeky grin, she concludes, "But only on meeting you did I understand that you also wield great power."

Remembering that she first met Bree when the poor woman was enduring one of Christian's tirades, which she stopped merely with her presence, Ana laughs and says, "Fair enough. Can we move on before I get really embarrassed?"

The rest of their hike is completed without Ana once again channeling Boadicea, much to Christian's relief, and they stop at a café in the village for a hot drink by an open fire, plus a fortifying snack. Back at the Cranleigh, a suitably pampered Carla is ready and waiting, so they freshen up and head straight to the marina, accompanied only by Nigel. On seeing the name of the luxury motor yacht waiting for them, Ana laughs and asks, "Mistress?"

Holding his hands up in defense, Christian jokes, "Not mine, I swear." Then gesturing to the craft, he adds, his eyes gleaming with covetous delight, "She's a beauty though, isn't she?"

Happier than she can express, at his boyish enthusiasm, Ana says, "I thought you preferred sail or electric power?"

Of course bypassing the waiting crew member, to personally help Ana aboard, Christian says, "Oh, I do, baby. But this is a fifty foot Sealine T50; most men would fall prey to her charms."

Moving into his embrace as he joins her on deck, temporarily shielded from the weather by fitted clear vinyl walls, Ana means something else entirely when she smiles and says, "But you're a one boat kind of guy?"

His ready grin confirming that he's understood, Christian teases, "Well, one at a time, anyway."

He's still wearing too many layers for Ana to exact a punishment on his ticklish ribs, so she leans close and whispers, "You'll be sorry for that, later."

Embracing her, Christian murmurs "Well, that sounds promising," before his lips descend to hers.

They break apart only when Carla stage whispers to Nigel, "Do they ever stop?"

Glancing at her mom, Ana sees that, despite her "complaint", Carla is clearly glad of her daughter's happiness; her face bright with shared joy. Caressing the bulge in her coat that represents her son, Ana jokes, "Hey, this little guy is going to seriously mess with our love life for a while when he's born, so we need to make the most of our time, now." When the light goes out of Carla's eyes, like the flick of a switch, Ana guesses that it's because of another young wife, with a babe in arms, and no man to hold her. As if she's commanded it, Christian suddenly releases her and Ana moves to put an arm around her mother's shoulders as she murmurs, "God, I'm sorry, Mom."

Forcing a smile, Carla reassures her, "It's okay, sweetie; not your fault, and it was a very long time ago. But you never know when things like that will sneak up and bite you. Let's just have fun, okay?"

Still a little concerned, but glad that she's not done lingering harm, Ana returns the smile, with effort, and brightly asks Christian, "Champagne?"

Cheerfully saluting both of them, he says "For Carla? Certainly. For you; fruit juice," and moves to obey.

When he still hasn't returned from the cabin by the time they've settled in, with a perfect view of the lake as the boat gets underway – Nigel, as always, unobtrusively vigilant, and the small crew out of sight – Carla asks, "Is he taking a long time?"

Ana giggles, remembering Jacque once doing the same thing, and says, "He's probably giving us time to chat." Suddenly serious, she asks, "You're really okay?"

Resting a hand on Ana's for a moment, Carla assures, "I'm fine. I'd like to think you have no bad memories. But I'm sure you already know that they reappear every now and then, even if things are going well. I'm mostly happy, I swear. Bob is very good to me."

"I'm glad." Suddenly presented with the perfect opportunity to ask something that has always nagged at her, Ana still hesitates a moment and asks, "Mom…why didn't it work out with Ray?" At Carla's surprise, she quickly adds, "Oh, not suggesting you should get back together. I gave up that wish long ago. And I like Bob; he's good for you. I just…I never understood. Dad is such a good guy."

Carla nods and agrees, "He is; one of the best." With a sigh, she continues, "Good enough to take on a weeping woman and a crying baby, because they had no one else. And I genuinely thought myself in love with him, for a long while. But it was actually gratitude; enough to sustain a friendship, thankfully, but not a marriage."

When she's quiet for a while, Ana nervously says, "I remember you arguing…a lot."

With a grimace, Carla can't quite meet her daughter's eyes to reveal, "Yes. I'm sorry you ever heard that, sweetie. I'm not proud of it, but…as I fell out of love with Ray, I began to resent him for apparently taking advantage of me…of trapping me, when I was vulnerable." When Ana says nothing, Carla finally looks at her to offer a wry grin and admit, "Okay, I'm wholeheartedly ashamed of it."

Glad that she didn't have to say it, Ana agrees, "So you should be. Dad would never do that."

"No, he wouldn't. If I hadn't convinced myself that I was in love with him, he would have remained forever a friend to me and a father figure to you, without asking for more. I think he knew my true feelings even before I did. And, being the gentleman he is, Ray was the one who ended our marriage, even though I suspect he was still in love with me. I remain grateful, to this day, that he didn't let it linger and become something sordid."

Again unsure, having never really been chatty with her mother, Ana nervously suggests, "Sometimes…I think he's still in love with you. He's not had a long-term relationship since. I don't think he even saw anyone while I was living with him."

Carla smiles serenely and says, "Oh, he would have been seeing someone. But I'm glad he was discreet." More serious, she continues, "Yes, I know what you mean…maybe one day; he certainly deserves happiness. I felt guilty about that for a while, too. But he and Bob have helped me see that it's not my fault." Louder, she concludes, "Enough of this introspection. Where's that champagne?"

Right on cue, Christian climbs the few stairs from the cabin, carrying a tray of drinks and protesting, "Hold your horses, it's tricky to pour on a moving boat."

He serves the drinks, a question on his face as he hands Ana hers. Understanding that he's asking if she needs more time, she smiles and pats the seat beside her. As he sits down, she says, "Better turn away, Mom." With an ostentatious groan, Carla does just that. Ana kisses Christian well enough that he'll understand how grateful she is for this chance to get to know her mother a little better. Just in case, she then rests her hand over his heart as she softly breathes, "Thank you."

Acknowledging her gratitude with a slight smile and a small nod, Christian then attracts Carla's attention and asks, "What's the toast today?"

Carla considers for a moment, then holds up her glass and suggests, "Love?"

Beaming his pleasure at the idea, Christian extends his glass and warmly declares, "To love."

Ana joins in and then takes a sip, nearly choking on her apple juice when Nigel, usually silent while on duty, solemnly intones, "Amen."

They finish the cruise under softly falling snow; the driving wind sending each flake into a mad flurry, giving the distinct impression that they never reach the ground; an illusion dispelled by the thin blanket of evidence at their feet. Despite being able to relax while they explored Lake Windermere from the sheltered comfort of "Mistress", and enjoying a sumptuous lunch in the luxurious dining room below decks, Christian's brow is permanently etched with concern as they head back to collect the rest of their party. Ana rubs the back of his hand that is holding hers across the armrest. When that draws his attention, she quietly asks, "Can I do anything?"

Banishing the frown, Christian forces a weak smile and says, "Sorry, baby. We're heading for York and the roads will be hell."

"Well, can we stay here another night?"

With a sad smile, Christian reveals, "They'll be much worse tomorrow. We'll stay in York a couple of nights; give things a chance to settle down." Nodding towards Nigel, he adds, "He's a better driver even than Taylor, and used to these conditions. It'll be fine."

Since there's nothing she can do, Ana tries to make light of the situation. "Your life would be so much easier if you could just control the weather, wouldn't it?"

Christian manages a laugh and raises her hand to his lips before teasing, "Maybe I should try it; the weather would probably give me less trouble than you do. I can't believe you did that…or that I let you."

Almost out of her seat to look back at them, Carla asks, "Did what?"

In a disapproving tone, Christian replies, "Stand on a cliff like a madwoman during our hike this morning. Bree has a photo of it."

Smiling at Ana with obvious pride, Carla reveals, "She was never afraid of heights. Ray used to throw her high up in the air and catch her, nearly stopping my heart every time; both of them laughing like crazy. Do you remember, Annie, that time you were wearing bib and brace overalls and the straps broke?"

Ana remembers only that it was sometimes mentioned in her parents' arguments for years after the event, so knows enough to say, "Uh, I'm not sure Christian will like this story, Mom."

As if these words are a request for more, Carla looks at Christian to explain, "Ray was left hanging onto the overalls, but no child." Adding a flamboyant hand gesture, she continues, "Ana zipped along the floorboards like a bowling ball, banged her head against the wall and leapt to her feet, yelling, 'Again, Daddy!'" Then shaking her head and smiling, Carla concludes, "I'd never seen him look scared before. He was trembling and had to sit down. I don't think they ever played that game again."

The lightness of his tone proving that he's not very upset, Christian chides, "Ana's right; I don't like that story."

Clearly still unafraid of him, Carla flashes a cheeky grin and says, "Sorry. I won't tell you how she got her fractures, then."

Christian's gaze snaps to Ana as he asks, "Fractures…plural?"

Remembering that she told him only about her broken collarbone, Ana blushes as she confesses, "I, uh, cracked a bone in my foot jumping off the roof." When Christian's jaw drops open in shock, she shrugs, adding, "It was a low roof."

"Why on earth…?"

Smiling, Carla reveals, "To see if she could fly, like some boy in a story. That was the sort of thing that happened when I made her close whatever book she was reading and go outside; she'd just move the fantasy outdoors." At Christian's obvious distress, she gently adds, "I'm not saying I wouldn't have stopped that particular escapade, but letting them takes risks is the hardest thing we'll do for our children. It's also an essential part of growing up."

Proving that he's understood the message, Christian settles his earnest gaze on Carla to say, "I'm working on it. But can you go a little easy on me? I'm already picturing this car in a snowy ditch before the day is over."

With a kind smile, Carla nods and says, "I can do that." Suddenly brightening, she shuffles in her chair a little and asks, "Do these things turn? We could play cards or something while we're stuck in traffic. I brought a deck. I'm sure Bree will want in on the action."

Worried that face time with his mother-in-law and their plucky nurse will not improve Christian's mood, Ana is opening her mouth to protest when he says, "They do, indeed; just the thing to take my mind of this British weather."

The torrential rain, gale force winds and occasional snowfall mean that progress is slow for the passengers (now facing each other) cocooned inside the luxury Range Rover; giving Ana time to learn that she can actually bluff Christian, setting his expression in an almost permanent pout, until she's fighting the urge not to laugh at his petulance. The other women are no match for either of them, so their friendly Texas Hold'em tournament puts most of the British pence in Ana's pockets. Nigel transports them safely to Haworth, though they only have time to visit the Bronte Parsonage, where that talented family lived for a time, before continuing to York. On seeing the name of their hotel, Ana laughs and asks Christian, "Grays Court? A little narcissistic, don't you think?"

Unperturbed, Christian shrugs and says, "It just happens to offer some of the finest accommodation and dining in the city." Pointing to the nearby cathedral, magnificent even in this fading light, he adds, "Plus, it's right next to York Minster, so we'll have something to do even if we get snowed in overnight." Smiling at Carla and Bree, still facing them, he adds, "Unless you'd like to stay in and play cards?"

Carla huffs her indignation and Bree exclaims, "Not bloody likely."