Contents

Cover
AbouttheBook
AbouttheAuthor
Title
Copyright
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5

AbouttheBook

Likeafairy-tale,itshouldhavebeensowonderful:afterayearofmarriage,
GraceHuntingtonstillexperiencesundreamt-ofpassionatebliss.Butstubborn
doubtskeepeatingawayather.Despitethemanyhappymomentswhenshefeels
closetoJonathan,sometimesheseemsjustasinscrutableashedidatthestart.
Andnowshehassomethingtoconfess,somethingsheknowswillputanenormous
strainontheirrelationship.

UnleashedisthethirdpartoftheColoursofLoveseries

ColoursofLove
Unbound
Uncovered
Unleashed

AbouttheAuthor

KathrynTaylorhasbeenawritersincechildhood—publishingherfirststorywhen
shewaselevenyearsold.Fromthenon,sheknewthatshewantedtobea
professionalauthoroneday.Afterafewcareerdetoursandahappyendinginher
personallife,herdreamhasfinallycometrue:COLOURSOFLOVEisherfirst
novel.

KathrynTaylor

Unleashed

COLOURS

OF

LOVE

BASTEIENTERTAINMENT

Digitaloriginaledition

BasteiEntertainmentisanimprintofBasteiLübbeAG

Copyright©2015byBasteiLübbeAG,Schanzenstraße6-20,51063Cologne,Germany

WrittenbyKathrynTaylor

TranslatedbyIonaItalia

EditedbySonyaDiehn

Coverdesign:JeannineSchmelzerandSandraTaufer,Munich,featuringimagesfrom©shutterstock:fuyuliu

E-bookproduction:Urban

SatzKonzept

,Düsseldorf

ISBN978-3-7325-0419-0

www.bastei-entertainment.com

ForR.,

whohasneverletmedown.

1

MyeyesaretightlyclosedandItakeadeepbreath.OK,Grace,comeon,youcan
doit,Ithink—butmyheartisinmymouth,andIhesitateforamoment.There’s
nothingtobedone,Ihavetoknow.

Icarefullyslitopenmyeyesandblinkatthewhiteplasticstickinmyhand,

withitsclearwindow,whichI’vebeengrippingtightlythiswholetime.Onthe
packet,itsaysyoushouldwaitafewminutes.Thattimehaslongsinceelapsed,so
I’mprettysureI’llbeabletoknowtheresults.

AndIcan.There’sathickbluelinethroughthemiddleofthewindow.Exactly

asIfeared.“Pregnant.”Isayitoutloudbecause,althoughIsuspectedasmuch,I
simplycan’tbelieveit.

JonathanandIaregoingtohaveababy.
Upuntilnow,Ididn’tknowthatyoucanfeelutterjoyandcompletehorrorat

thesametime.Butclearly,itispossible,becauserightnowthecombinationof
bothfeelingsiscausingsuchadizzyingchaosinsidemethatIhavetoholdonto
thesinktonotfalldown.

Athousandthoughtsareflashingthroughmymindatonce.Achild.How

wonderful!Buthowisitpossible,whenwe’vealwaysusedcontraception?And
nowofalltimes.AndwhatwillJonathansay?Willhewantit?

Iliftmyheadandlookintothemirror.Mygreeneyesareshiningalmost

feverishly,andmyfaceissopalethatitformsaglaringlystarkcontrasttomy
strawberryblondehair.

OK,Grace—onethingatatime,Ichidemyself,andtrytogothroughitpoint

bypoint.

HowcanIbepregnant,whenI’monthePill?Everythingwasfine,everything

wasthesameasusual,Ididn’tforgettotakeit,anditwasnodifferentfrom…
Damnit,Ithinksuddenly.Thatterriblestomachfluwhichcaughtmeoffguardlast
month.Iwascompletelyknockedoutforthreedays,Icouldhardlymove—andI
couldhardlykeepanythingdown.Maybethatinterferedwithitsefficiency?It
didn’tevenoccurtome;IthoughtthePillwasthemostreliableformof
contraceptionofallofthem,aslongasyoutakeitregularly.Ikickmyself,because
that’ssotypicalofme.

Butattheendoftheday,itdoesn’tmatterhowithappened.Ididn’tdoiton

purpose—andit’scomeatthemostinconvenienttimepossible,becauseababy
isthelastthingIwanted.

Imean,I’monlytwenty-four,andI’vebeenmarriedtothemostexcitingman

inthewholeofEnglandforjustayearnow,andI’mactuallybusydedicating
myselftomycareer.I’mjustbeginningtoreallysettleintomyroleasproject
manageratJonathan’scompany:Ienjoymywork,Ifeelcomfortablethere,and
I’veachievedalot.IfI’mpregnant,it’sgoingtocompletelymessupmyplans.

NotthatJonathanwon’tbeabletofindasolution.Healwaysdoes,actually

—that’swhyI’msurehe’llbeabletofindawaytodealwiththis—ifhewants
to.It’salsopossiblethathe’llbetotallyhorrifiedwhenhefindsout.Becausethe
lasttimewediscussedit—anduptillnow,theonlytime—hecategorically
refusedtoeverhavechildren.

“Mrs.Huntington?”Icanhearthesoundofourhousekeeper’svoicethrough

thebedroomdoor.Idropthetestintothesink,andhurriedlywalkthroughthe
adjoiningbedroomtothedoor.Mrs.Matthewswouldnevercomeinuninvited—
butIstillfeelasthoughI’vebeencaughtred-handed,somehow.

“What’sup?”IaskasIopenthedoor,smilingtotrytoconcealmyagitation.
“IjustwantedtoaskifIshouldpreparesomefoodforyouandyoursister-in-

law,”Mrs.Matthewsexplains.She’sstillwearinganapron.“Youhaven’thad
breakfastyetandIthoughtthatperhapsyou’dlikesomethingwhenMrs.Norton
arrives—someeggswithbacon,perhaps?”

Sarah,Ithinkwithastart,kickingmyselfagain.That’sright.Shewantedto

comebythismorning.ButIwassoworriedaboutthetestthatIcompletelyforgot.

“Oh,thatwouldbelovely.Butnobacon,please.”Theverythoughtofthe

smellsuddenlymakesmefeelsick.“Justacoupleofeggs.Ifit’snottoomuch
trouble?”

“Ofcoursenot.It’smypleasure,”sheassuresmeanddisappears,smiling.
Mrs.MatthewshasbeenworkingforJonathanforaprettylongtime.Shewas

herebeforeIbecamepartofhislife.LuckilyI’vehadagoodrelationshipwithher
rightfromthestart—andsinceI’vebeenmarriedtohimnow,it’sbeenalmost
touching,thewayshe’slookedafterme.Ithinkshejustenjoysbeingableto
indulgeherculinaryskills.Because—unlikeJonathan—I’macompletefailure
inthekitchen.OrIwas—becauseI’velearnedalot,thankstothetwoofthem.
Buttoday,I’mgratefulforherofferallthesame,becauseinmycurrentstateI’dbe
certaintoevenburnscrambledeggs.

Ihurrybacktothebathroomandgetridofthepregnancytestbyputtingitback

intoitspackagingandthenintotheplasticbagIbroughtitin,tyingthebagfirmly
inaknot,andthenstuffingitintotheverybottomofthebathroomtrashcan.Idon’t

wantJonathantodiscoverit.Heneedstohearthisfromme,eventhoughIhaveno
ideahowhe’sgoingtoreacttothenews.

Ireturntothebedroomwithabeatingheartandpickoutsomethingtowear.

WhileI’mstillbuttoningtheblouseIpickedtogowithmyjeans,mymobilephone
rings.It’sonthenightstand.

It’sJonathan—Icanseehispicturelightuponthedisplayandmyheartstarts

beatingwhatmustbeamilliontimesfasterthanbefore.

“Grace.”Hisdeepvoiceissofamiliarandyetapleasantshiverrunsthrough

meeverytime,atthesoundofit.Icanimmediatelyvisualisehisface:the
attractive,angularfeaturesthatcaptivatedmefromthemomentIfirstmethim,the
longishblackhair,andthesparklingblueeyes,whichdon’tmissatrick.

“Whereareyou?”
“StillinParis,”hesays,andIcantellthathesoundstired.“ButI’maboutto

flyback.”

Iclosemyeyes,becauseIstillfindithardtobeseparatedfromhim.Atthe

beginningofourmarriageitsimplyneverhappened,butlatelyhe’shadtogoaway
alot.There’sbeentroubleatthecompany—infact,therehavebeensomepretty
seriousupheavals,whichhe’shadtodealwithpersonallyandwhichhavekept
himontenterhooksforawhilenow.

“Areyougoingtocomestraighthomethen?”It’sSundaytoday,sohedoesn’t

havetogointotheofficeandIsuddenlyfeelafiercelongingforhim.Heseemsso
farawaysomehow—andnotjustgeographically.AndafterthediscoveryI’ve
justmade,it’smakingmeuneasy.SomehowthefactthatI’mgoingtohaveababy
ismakingmequestioneverythingthat’shappened.Ijustneedtoknowforsurethat
helovesmeandthatwe’regoingtogetthroughthisunexpectedturnofevents
together.

ButJonathandisappointsme.
“No,IhavetodealwithsomethingwhenIgettoLondon.Idon’tthinkI’llget

hometillearlyevening.”

“Whatdoyouhavetodealwith?”Iinsist.
“Grace,I’msorrybutthepilotishere.Weneedtogo.I’llseeyoulater.”
BeforeIcansayanythingelse,hehangsup.He’llbeflyinginthecompany

LearjetandIknowthattheyalwayshavetocomplystrictlywiththeirdeparture
schedule,butitstillseemstomelikeaveryabruptwaytosaygoodbye.Doeshe
notwantmetoknowhisplans?

Anuneasyfeelingiscreepinguponme,becausewhenIthinkitoverIrealise

thatlatelyhe’stoldmeverylittleaboutwhat’shappeningatthecompanylately.I
justdidn’tnoticeuptillnowbecauseIwassobusywithmyownproject,whichis

reallyprettyimportant.But,asfarasworkisconcerned,he’sbeenactingvery
reservedtowardme.

Apleasantgongechoesthroughthehouse,interruptingmymusings.Iquickly

sliponmyshoesandmakemywaydowntothediningroom.Mrs.Matthewshas
alreadyshownSarahin.

“Hello,Grace!”Jonathan’ssisterhugsmewarmlyanddropsintooneofthe

chairswithasigh.Herblackhair,whichisnowalmostdowntohershoulders,is
gleamingwetlyandshelooksgenerallyprettymuchfrozensolid.

“ThisbloodyFebruaryweathercanreallytakeitoutofyou,”shecomplains.

“Atleastit’snotsnowinghereyet,likeitisontheContinent.But,ifthe
temperaturedropsanylower,itwon’tbelongnow.”

“I’mjustmakingMrs.Huntingtonsomescrambledeggsforbreakfast.Would

youlikesome?”Mrs.Matthewsenquires.

“Oh,thatwouldwonderful,Mrs.Matthews,thankyouverymuch!”Sarah

says,andnods.Thesmilehasreturnedtoherfaceandshe’spositivelybeamingas
shefetchesaflatpackagewrappedinbrownpaperfromherpurse.“Here,takea
look.”Shepassesittome.“SophiegotitformeforAlex’sbirthday.”

“SophieConroy—thegalleryowner?”Iask,asIcarefullyunwrapthe

package.

“She’snotagalleryowner,Grace,sheworksatanauctionhouse—and

knowsalotaboutoldthings,”Sarahcorrectsme,waitinganxiouslyformy
reactionasIexaminethebookemergingfromthepaper—aparticularlylovely
leather-boundeditionof…

“OliverTwist?”IfurrowmybrowasIlookatSarah.“DoesAlexanderread

thingslikethat?”

"It’shisfavouritebook,actually.Hesayshe’salwaysidentifiedwiththepoor

orphanboybecausehedidn’thavemuchwhenhewasyoungeither.Hisparents
wouldneverhavebeenabletoaffordtosendhimtoWinchesterCollege,but
luckily,hegotascholarship.Justimagine,ifhehadn’tbeensoincrediblyclever
evenasachild,hewouldn’thavemadefriendswithJonatschoolandIwould
probablyneverhavemethim.”

Inod.AlexanderisJonathan’sbusinesspartnerandbestfriend,andsincehe

marriedSarahhe’sbecomemyclosefriend,too.Aparticularlyimportantfriend,
infact,becausehisbackground—justlikemine—iscompletelydifferentfrom
JonathanandSarah’s.AstheEarlofLockwood’schildren,theyweremanorborn
andneverhadmoneyworriesintheirlives.AlexandI,bycontrast,comefrom
humblebackgrounds.SoheunderstandswhenIsometimesfeelalittle
overwhelmedbyallthewealthsurroundingme.

“Thatwasverysweetofyou,”ItellSarah,handingherbackthebook.I’m

doingmybesttosoundasnormalaspossible.ButI’mclearlynotsucceeding,
sinceshe’sscrutinisingmeattentivelyasMrs.Matthewsservesuseachaplateof
scrambledeggsontoastandacupoftea.

Oncetheolderladyhasleftusonourown,Sarahleansforward.
“OK,spititout,Grace.What’swrong?”
Ilowermyeyes.She’sgotme.“Isitsoobviousthatsomething’swrong?”
“Well,Icantell,atleast,”shesays.“You’realwaysalittleonthepaleside,

buttodayyou’rewhiteasasheet.Andyoudon’tusuallylookasthoughyou’re
abouttoburstintotearsatanymoment.So,what’swrong?”

WhenSarahsaysitoutloud,Isuddenlyrealisethatit’strue:Ifeelsotorn

betweenhappinessanddespairthatI’dreallyliketocry.

Ihesitateforamoment,becauseJonathanreallyoughttobethefirsttoknow.

ButIsimplycan’tkeepittomyselfanylonger.

“I’mpregnant.”
Sarahsinksbackintoherchair.“Wow.Well,that’s…asurprise.”Shetakesa

secondtodigestthenews,andthenshebeamsatmeandreachesacrossthetable
totakemyhandsandsqueezethemtight.“Butthat’sfantastic!Congratulations,I’m
sohappyforyou!”

Imakeaface.“I’mstillnotsurehowIfeelaboutit.”
“Itwasn’tintentionalthen?”Sarahenquirescarefully,andIshakemyhead.
“No.Itwasmoreof…anaccident,”Iconfess,shruggingmyshouldersalmost

apologetically.

Withinasplitsecond,Sarah’sexpressionturnsserious.“DoesJonknowyet?”

Ishakemyheadunhappily.“No.Ijustdidoneofthosetestsandfoundout.AndI
don’tknowhowtotellhim,either.Youknowwhathethinksaboutchildren.Do
youthinkhe’llbeatallhappyaboutthis?”

Ilookatherdoubtfully,hopingthatshewilldispelmyfears.Butshejustleans

backinherchair,withaseriouslookonherface,andremainssilentforamoment.

“Iwouldlovetobeabletoreassureyouthathe’llbethrilled—becauseit

oughttobethemostnormalreactionintheworld.Oughttobe.But,tobequite
honest,Ijustdon’tknow,”sheexplainsand,althoughithurtsthatshecan’toffer
meanyreassurance,Ivalueherhonesty.”Childrenhavealwaysbeenacompletely
taboosubjectforhim,perhapsbecauseDadusedtonaghimaboutitsomuch.Has
Jonsaidanythingelseonthesubjectrecently?”

“No.”Isigh.“Actually,weonlytalkedaboutitonce,rightatthestartofour

relationship,wheneverythingwasstillbrandnew.Buthewasquiteemphatic
aboutitthen.Hemadeitclearthatheneverwantstobeafather.’Childrenare

monsters,’that’showheputitatthetime.Hetoldmethathewascompletely
unsuitedtobeingafather.Youshouldhaveseenhim.Hewasdeadserious.”

“Hmm.Andyou’venevertalkedaboutitwithhimsincethen?”Sarahseemsto

findthatpuzzling.

“Ididn’twanttobringitupagain,theconversationreallyupsethim.Andit

didn’tseemthatimportant.Imean,Ithoughttherewouldbeplentyoftimeforthat,
youknowwhatImean,right?Atleastfiveorsixyearsorsomething.Butthen,it
wassosudden…”Iclosemyeyesandfeelmyheartcontract.“Whatifhereally
doesn’twantthechild?”

It’simpossibletoignorethefearinmyvoice,soSarahimmediatelyreaches

acrossthetable,andplacesherhandsovermine,pressingthemreassuringlythis
time.

“Nonsense.Jonlovesyouandsinceyou’vebeentogetherhe’scompletely

changed.Perhapshewon’tbeoverthemoonaboutitrightaway,buteverything
willworkoutintheend.He’llendupbeingashappyaboutthebabyasyouare.”

Iwouldlovetobeabletobelieveher,butIcanseetheuncertaintyinher

eyes.She’snotsure,Ithink,dismayed,andIsuddenlygetalumpinmythroat.

“Buthe’sbeensostrangelately,Sarah.Sowithdrawn.Hedoesn’ttellme

everythinganymore.Somehow,IalmostgetthefeelingthattheoldJonathanis
back,thewayhewasbeforewegottogether.DoyouknowwhatImean?
SometimesIcan’treallygetthroughtohimanymore.”

Thistimetoo,IhopeSarahwillreassureme.Butsheobviouslycan’t,because

shesighsdeeplybeforeanswering.

“I’mafraidIgetthatimpressiontoo.I’vebeentryingtopersuademyselfthat

I’mmistaken,whichiswhyIdidn’tsayanything.Butifyou’venoticedittoo…“
Shedoesn’tfinishhersentenceandwelookateachother,discerningtheanxietyin
eachother’seyes.

ItwouldbeawfulifJonathanweretobecomeasunapproachableashewas

whenwemet.Backthen,Ithoughtitwasjustbecausewecamefromcompletely
differentworlds:Iwasayoung,inexperienced,Americangirl,visitingEnglandto
doaninternshipathiscompany—andhewasawealthyandverysuccessful
businessman,whowasalsoamemberoftheEnglisharistocracy.Butitwasn’tjust
that.Jonathan’sunapproachabilityalsohadtodowiththefactthathecouldn’tor
didn’twanttoallowhimselftofeelanything.ButsomehowImanagedtobreak
throughtheshellhehadbuiltaroundhimselfandchaseawaytheshadows
burdeninghissoul.We’vebeenhappytogethereversince,soIthoughtitwould
alwaysstaythatway—ifonlybecauseIcannolongerimaginelifewithouthim.
Butifevenhissister,who’sknownhimmuchlongerthanIhave,isafraidthat
mightslipbackintohisoldpatternsofbehaviour,thenthat’sworrying.Very

worrying,infact.Anditdoesn’texactlyinfusemewithconfidencewhenIthinkof
whatI’llsoonhavetoconfess.

“WhatshouldIdonow,Sarah?”
She’ssilentforamoment,considering.“WhenisJoncomingback?”She

knowsthatJonathanisinFranceonabusinesstripandItellheraboutourphone
call.“OK,sowehavealittlebitoftime,then,”shetellsme.

“Todowhat?”Iask,confused,butSarahisalreadystandingup.Shefetches

herpurseandgetsouthermobilephone.“I’mmakinganappointmentwiththe
gynaecologistforyou.YouseeDrWatkins,right?”Shedoesn’twaitformy
answer.“Afterall,youonlydidsomefunnytest,whoknowsifit’sevenreliable.
We’regoingtogetyouexaminednow,andthenwe’llthinkaboutwhattodonext.”

“ButSarah,it’sSunday,”Iprotest,whichonlymakeshersmile.“DrWatkins

doesn’tworktoday.”

“Ithinkhe’llstillhavetimeforus,”shesayswithawink,withhermobile

phoneatherear.Ismileinvoluntarilybecauseshesoundssoself-assured.And
rightlyso,becauseit’snotthatunlikely.Theextremelybusyprivatephysicianwho
isusuallycompletelybookedupmightwellopenhispracticeoutsideofhisusual
clinichours,iftheEarlofLockwood’sdaughteraskshimto.Jonathan’sfamilyis
influentialandverywell-connected,andI’veoftendiscoveredthatthingswhich
wouldbeimpossiblefornormalmortalsarepossibleforthem.AndeventhoughI
don’tusuallyliketoreceivespecialtreatment,rightnowIwouldbeveryhappyif
shecouldgetmeanappointment,fast.BecauseIneedtobesure.

Perhapsthetestwasafalsepositive,Ithink,aquarterofanhourlater,aswe

setoffforChelsea,whereDrWatkins’practiceislocated.Ireallyclingtothe
thought,repeatingitlikeamantra.Because,iftheresultreallywerecorrect,the
changesinstoreformesuddenlyseemprettyscary.

2

“Grace?”Jonathanpopshisheadaroundthebedroomdoorandlooksatmein
astonishmentwhenhediscoversmeinbed.“Whatareyoudoinguphere
already?”

“IneedtogothroughtheWentworthProjectdocumentsagainandIthoughtI

wouldmakemyselfcomfortableatthesametime,”Iexplain.Mysmileisalittle
tentative;Icantellthatmyself,eventhoughmyheartisbeatingfasteratthesight
ofhim,asitalwaysdoes.

Ihearhimcomingupthestairs,butIfeeldifferentfromusualtoday:alittle

self-conscious.SoIstayseatedandwaitforhim,insteadofgoinguptogreethim¸
asIusuallydo.Itwouldhavebeendifficulttogetupanyway,becauseI’vespread
thepapersIbroughtfromtheofficeoutallaroundme,so,infact,Ican’tmovea
musclewithoutgettingeverythingalljumbledup.

Jonathanentersthebedroomwithapuzzledfrownonhisface.Hecomesover

tobed.

“Youdon’tusuallyworkinbed,”hesays,astonished,andIswallow,torn

betweentheneedtotellhimthenewsrightawayandthefearwhichisholdingme
back.

“There’salwaysafirsttime,”Ireply,consciousofthestatement’sdouble

meaning.

Becausethetestwasnotafalsepositive.DrWatkinsconfirmedtheresults:I

reallyampregnant,sevenweeks.Hetookanultrasoundandexaminedme
thoroughly,andthenheexplainedthateverythingisjustasitshouldbeatthispoint
inthepregnancy.Thatreassuredmealot,eventhoughI’mstillprettyshakenup.

UntilIsawthetinyspeckontheultrasoundmonitor,thetinylivingcreature

thatisgrowingthereinsideme,Iwasn’tsuremyselfhowIwouldfeelabout
havingachild.Butsincethen,I’vefeltcompletelydifferentinsideanditeven
outweighsthefearofhowJonathanwillreact.

Iwantthischild,eventhoughitseemscompletelyabstractrightnow.Ican’t

quiteimaginethatthespeckisgoingtoturnintoareallivebaby.It’smychildwith
Jonathan,partofmeandpartofhim,andIcouldneverharmthat.Onthecontrary,
Ifeelaverystrongprotectiveinstincttowardit;Ifeeltheneedtomakesurethat
nothinghappenstoit.

ButIreallydon’tknowhowI’mgoingtobreakittoJonathan,andwhenhe

sitsdownontheedgeofthebed—carefully,soasnottomessupthepapers—I
hughimalittletighterthanusualandkisshimalmostguiltilybecauseitfeelsso
strangetobekeepingasecretfromhim.Andhenoticesrightaway,becausehe
frowns.

“IseverythingOK?”
Heknowsmefartoowell,Ithink,asImeltintothebrightblueeyeswhichare

regardingmesopenetratingly.

“Idon’tknow,youtellme,”Ireply,totaketheattentionoffme,strokinghis

chestandlovingthefeelingofhispowerfulmusclesbeneaththefabricofhis
blackshirt,whichhe’swearingopenattheneck,withoutatie,asalways.“Did
yougetanyfurtherwiththingsinParis?”

HewasinFrancetomeetabusinessassociatewhoapparentlyhadsome

informationaboutthetroublemakerwho’sbeencausingHuntingtonVenturesso
manyproblemslatelyandsabotagingmanyimportantprojects.Ittookawhilefor
Jonathantofindoutthatitwasn’tjustaseriesofcoincidences,butrather
deliberate,plannedattemptstodamagethecompany.Sincethen,he’sbeen
investigatingwhattheyhaveincommon—andsearchingfortheculprit.

“Yesandno.Bernièrereallydidhavesomeinterestingleads,butitwilltakea

whileformetoevaluatethemall,”Jonathanexplainsanditsoundsperfectly
normal.Butheavoidsmyeyes,forjustamoment,andinaflashIgetthefeeling
he’shidingsomething.Butthat’sridiculous.Orisit?

“Andwhattookyousolongtogethome?”Iask,anditcomesoutmore

reproachfullythanIintended.Becausehewasgoingtobeherebyearlyevening,
whichislongpast.It’salmosteighto’clock.

Heshrugshisshoulders.“ItwassnowingsohardinParisthatwehadtotake

offlaterthanplanned.Andthingsattheofficealsotookalittlelonger.”

“Attheoffice?Ithoughtyouhadanappointmentelsewhere?”Atleast,that’s

whatIunderstoodwhenhesaidhestillhadsomethingtotakecareof.

“No.IhadtogooverafewthingswithCatherine,”hereplies,avoidingmy

gazeagain.Ifeelapainfulstabbecausethisincreasesmyfearthathe’skeeping
somethingfromme.“Ididn’tknowyoursecretaryworkedtoday,”Isay,crossing
myarmsinfrontofmychestandstaringathimsternly.

“Iaskedhertocomeintotheoffice.Itwasurgent,”Jonathanexplains,visibly

astonishedbymyirritatedtone.“Grace,what’swrongwithyou?Irunan
internationalorganisation.ThatmeansthatIcan’talwaystakebankholidaysoff,
youknowthatfullwell.”

Yes,Iknow,Ithink,feelingsuddenlyhelplessandalittleoutofmydepth.I

suspecthimofkeepingsomethingfromme—butisitonlybecauseI’mnotbeing

completelyopenwithhimmyself?

“I’msorry,I…wouldhavelikedyoutohavebeenherejustnow.Wehaveso

littletimeforeachotheratthemoment,”Iinterrupt.Jonathansmiles,whichstill
makesmemeltinside,evenafterayearofmarriage.

Somehow,Ihopethathe’llkissmenowandmakemeforgetthatthingsmight

getverydifficultbetweenusifhehasn’tyetchangedhismindaboutchildren.But
hegetsupfromthebedagain,goesovertothecloset,andhangsuphisjacket.It’s
black,likehisshirtandhispants—hejustlovesthatcolouranditreallysuits
him,whichiswhyI’venevermadeaseriousattempttochangehiswayof
dressing.

“Andwhatdidyoudotoday?”heasks.Luckily,he’sstandingwithhisbackto

me.BecauseotherwiseI’mprettysurehe’dbeabletotellthatsomethingisn’t
right.Tellhim,Grace,Iattempttourgemyself.You’llhavetodoitatsomepoint,
soyoumightaswellgetitoveranddonewith.Butthenheseemssotense,Ithink,
andsuddenlyI’mafraidthatitmightbeabadtime.Ifthereisagoodtimetotell
himapieceofnewsofthiskind.

JonathanturnsaroundtowardmebecauseI’vebeensilentforsolong.He

raiseshiseyebrowsquestioningly.

“Sarahwashere,”Iexplaintohimhurriedly.“Andwe…wentintotown.”

That’smoreorlesstrue,butit’sstillalie,andI’malittleashamedbecauseI
don’thavethegutstotellhimthetruth.

MaybeIwouldhave,ifhe’dbeenbehavingnormally.Buthe’sdealingwith

somethinghimself,Icanfeelit,andthatmakesmenervous.Welookateachother
foramoment,eachtryingtointerprettheother’slook.

“AreyoureallyOK,Grace?Youlooksopale,”Jonathansays,indicatingthe

papersspreadoutaroundme.“IftheWentworthProjectistoomuchforyou,Ican
transferanassistanttotheproject.”

“Noway.”Ishakemyheadvigorously,offendedthathedoesn’ttrustmetodo

itmyself.“IfeelfantasticandI’vegoteverythingundercontrol.”Asiftoproveit,
Isweepthepaperstogetheragain.Ican’tconcentrateonthemanymoreanyway.

Jonathancomesbackovertome,sitsdownontheedgeofthebedagain,and

placeshishandonmycheek,strokingmylipswithhisthumb—agestureIlove.
Itsendsashudderofpleasuredownmyspine.

“WhatcanIdoforyouthen?”heasksandIhavetosmiledespitemyself

becausetheanswerisprettysimple.

“Kissme,”Isay,andhebendsforwardanddoes.Asalways,assoonashis

lipstouchmine,everythoughtiserasedfrommyhead.Workseverytime.And
suddenlythat’sexactlywhatIneed.Idefinitelydon’twanttothinkanymore,I
don’twanttoworry.SoIreturnhiskiss,surrenderingmyselftoitcompletely,and

whenIthrowmyarmsaroundhisnecktopullhimdownontothebedwithme,the
papersslidedownoffmylap.

ButatthatmomentIcouldn’tcareless,IjustwantJonathanclosetome.Itug

athisshirtandimpatientlytrytoundohispants.Hehelpsme,getsridofthe
annoyinggarment,andundressesmetoo—he’sanoldhandatthat.Thenhetakes
meinhisarmsagainandkissesmemoreintensely.Butthewayhedoessois
almosttootenderforme,tooconsiderate.Ineedmore,soItakethelead,thrusting
myhanddownward,andgraspinghisbulgingmember,whichmakeshimpant.

Iholdittightly,smiling,andatthesametimeItracealineoflittlekissesover

hishard,muscularstomachandthenIslipmylegontopofhis,gettingmyselfinto
positionsothatIcancrouchontopofhimandtouchthebroadtipofhispenis
withmylips,asitstrainsuptowardme,greedily.

“Grace,”Jonathangroansinarawvoice.Hiscockistwitchingexpectantly

andIsmileandthenencloseitfirmlyinmymouthandbegintosuckinaslow
rhythm.Hisearthy,masculinescentisintoxicatingandfamiliaratonce,andIfeel
myselfgettingwetasIslidemytongueoverhimgently,tastingthefirstsaltydrops
ofhissemen.

Hewasagoodteacher,soIknowexactlywhathelikes.Iholdhisscrotum

andupthetempountilIfeelhishandsonthebackofmyheadandfeelhimmoving
towardmeinsmallthrusts.

I’msurethatthisisanincredibleturn-onforhim;Icanfeelitinhistense

muscles.Buthe’sstillincontrolofhimself,hewon’tletgo,almostasifhe’s
fightingagainsthisfeelings—whichIfindprettyfrustrating.

WhenIpauseforamoment,Jonathanimmediatelytakestheopportunitytopull

meuptowardhim,turnontohissidewithmeandtakecontrol.Hekissesmeagain
inthatseductivelyintimatewaythatwe’veonlybeenabletodosincewe
confessedourfeelingsforeachother—gentlyandunhurriedly.And,ofcourse,I
enjoythattoo.ButnowIsimplyneedtofeelthatIcandrivehimcrazy,thathecan
losehimselfcompletelyinme.MaybethenIcangetthroughtohimagain,Ithink,
returninghiskissfiercely,unsatisfiedwithwhathe’sofferingme.

Ittakesamomentortwobutthen—atlast—IcantellfromthewayJonathan

takesholdofmeandreturnsmykissthathisself-controliscrumbling.Hisfingers
confidentlyfindtheirwaytomyhotslit,whichislongingforhistouch,andI
groanthroatilyashestrokesitpossessivelyandstimulatesmyclit,whileatthe
sametimeenclosingoneofmynipplesinhismouthandsuckingonitfiercelyand
almostpainfully.

“Takeme,Jonathan,”Ibreatheintohisear,stretchingmyarmsabovemyhead

anddeliveringmyselfuptohimcompletely.Ashudderofanticipationrunsthrough
me.“Doanythingyouwantwithme.”

I’mrewardedbyagrowlandtheself-controlhasdisappearedfromhiseyes.

Instead,Icanseeonlyunfeigned,hotlust.Good,Ithink,throwingmyheadback,
exposingmythroat,andmoaning,asherunshistongueupmynecktomyear,
whilehethrustshishandsundermybuttandgrabsmehard,pullingmerightup
againsthim,sothathispenisispressingagainstmytummy,hotandhard.Hekeeps
onkneadingmyfleshandkissingmeasifhewantedtodevourme;tillI’mso
turnedonIcanhardlystandit.“Please,Jonathan.”Ipleadwithhim,asIhave
donesoofteninthepasttwoyears—becauseIdesirethemansomuchitmakes
mehelpless.“Please,fuckme.”

Jonathan’seyeslightupasIspurhimonandIrecognisethewildsparkin

themI’vemissedsomuch.Itmakesmesmilehappily.

“Turnround,”heordersandIdoitwillingly,feelinghimimmediatelylie

downrightbehindme.AndthenthebroadtipofhispenispartsmylabiaandI
pantashepenetratesmewithaslowbutirresistiblypowerfulthrust,stretchingme
inadeliciousway,untilhe’scompletelyinsideme.

Jonathandoesn’tmove,hejustslipshishandbetweenmylegsandtouchesmy

clit,whichsendsanarousingboltoflightningshootingthroughmylowerbody,
makingmeevenwetter.“Canyoufeelme?”Hisvoiceinmyearsoundshoarse
andexcited.

“Yes,”Ibreathe,consciouslyenclosinghimwithmyinternalmuscles,

enjoyingthefeelingashefillsmeupcompletely.He’ssobigandhardandIcan
alreadyfeelthefirsttremorsofdesirerunningthroughmeinanexpectanttremble.

Whenhebeginstomove,thesetremorsgetstrongerandtakeovermywhole

body.Jonathanholdsmetightlyinhisarmsashekeepsonpenetratingmefrom
behind,andeverystrokeisalittledeeper,alittleharderthanthelast.“You’re
mine,Grace.Allmine.Don’tforgetthat.”

HepresseshislipstothenapeofmyneckandIfeelhisteethagainstmyskin

asheupsthetempoandtakesmeaswildlyandunrestrainedlyasI’vealways
wantedhimto.ButwhenIcanalreadyfeeleverythinginsidemecontractingand
announcingthearrivalofapowerfulorgasm,hesuddenlystopsandpullsoutof
meagain.

“No,”Iprotest,groaning,butI’mpowerlesstostophim.SoIlethimturnme

ontomybackandspreadmylegswide.Almostimmediately,he’sinsidemeagain
andIsighwithcontentment,squirmingbeneathhim,becauseIwanthimright
there,becauseIneedhim.Andheneedsmetoo.Hetakesmewithalmostpainful
force.Butit’swhatIwanted,soI’mrejoicinginside,clawingathisshoulders
withmyhands,scratchinghisback,asIarchuptowardhimlasciviously.

“Yes,yes.”MycriesminglewithhisandIfeelhimgrowinginsidemeand

perceivethesignsthathe’sabouttocome.AndthenIlosemyself,pulledunderby

myorgasm,washedawaybyanall-encompassingfeelingofreleasethatmakesme
sobaloud.Jonathanfollowsmewithaloudgroan,pouringhimselfoutintomein
severalpowerfulthrustsand,witheverytwitchofhismember,pullingmefurther
intotheabyssofdesire,prolongingthetremorsthatarerunningthroughmybody
withoutstoppingasweclingtoeachothertightly.Ittakesalongtimetillwecalm
downagainandJonathanreleaseshimselffromme.Hepullsmeintohisarmsand
Isnuggleuptohim,listeningtohisheavybreathingwhich,likemyown,takesa
whiletobecomeregularagain.OurunionwasexactlyasIdreameditwouldbe
—uninhibited,wild,andall-consuming,andIsmilehappilybecauseIfeelclose
tohimagain.It’sallgoingtobeOK,Ithink,tocalmmyself,andI’mjustaboutto
tellhimaboutthebaby.

ButJonathananticipatesme.
“Wecouldinviteyourfamilytostaywithusagain,”hesaysintothesilence,

andIraisemyheadinsurpriseandstareathim.

“Why?TheywerejusthereatChristmas—barelyfiveweeksago.”
Heshrugshisshoulders.“Ijustthoughtthatperhapsyoumissedthem,”he

explains,whichIfindprettyconfusing.

Ofcourse,I’dlovetohavemyfamilyhereoften,especiallymysisterHope.

RightnowIcouldreallyuseheradvice.Butshewouldn’thavetimetomakethe
longjourneyfromAmericatoEnglandagainsosoon.

“Whatmakesyousaythat?”Iask,becauseIreallyamconfused,andhe

smiles,almostapologetically.

“Theywereabigpartofyourlifebeforeyoucamehere.Itwouldn’tsurprise

meifyoumissedthemalot,”hesays.

IletmyheadsinkontohischestpensivelyandlookatthewallbecauseI’ve

suddenlythoughtofsomethingandIdon’tlikeitatall.

“Doyoumissyouroldlife?”Iaskcarefully.Afterall,alotofthingshave

changedforhim,too,sinceourwedding.

“Iwastalkingaboutyou,notaboutme,”hesays,kissingmebrieflywhenI

lookupathim.Thenheswingshimselfoutofbedandgetsup.“HowaboutImake
usaquicksnack?Ihaven’thadachancetoeat,andIcouldreallydowith
somethingrightnow.”He’salreadyonhiswaytothebathroombuthestopsatthe
doorandlooksatmequestioningly,becauseIstillhaven’tansweredhim.

“Yes,thatwouldbegreat,”Isay,smiling.ButIgrowseriousagainassoonas

hehasclosedthedoorbehindhim.Isinkbackdownontothepillowswithasigh.

Thatwasaclearno,Ithink,feelinganewanxietygrowinginsideme.

Jonathanwasmuchfreerwithoutmeandhemadefulluseofthosefreedoms
beforewemet.That’schangedsincewe’vebeentogether,anduntilrecentlyIwas
prettysurehedidn’tregrethavinggivenallthatup—becausehenevergaveme

reasontodoubtit.And,infact,Ican’treallyimagineitevennow,notrightafter
makinglovetoeachothersopassionately.Buthehasbeenbehavingdifferently
fromusualsomehow,anditmakesmeuneasytothinkthatnow,ofalltimes,my
pregnancymightbeabouttoputourrelationshiptothetest.

It’sgonnabeOK,Itellmyself,tryingtoignorethefearcreepingupinmewith

icyfingers,asIstareattheceiling.BecausethethoughtthatImightloseJonathan
issimplytooterribletoimagine.

3

It’salwaysverybusyatlunchtimeatthe“Globe,”thecosypubveryclosetothe
HuntingtonVenturesBuildinginLondonWall.ButIspotmyfather-in-lawalmost
immediately.He’ssittingatatableinthecorner,staringintotheglassofScotchin
frontofhim.“Hello,Arthur,”IgreethimwhenIgettothetable,andhejumps,
becausehe’sonlyjustnoticedme.Hewasclearlycompletelylostinthought.

“Grace!”Hegetsupimmediatelyandhugsmewarmly.He’salmostastallas

Jonathan,andoncemoreIamawarethatfatherandsonareveryalikeinposture
andmanner.Buttheydodresscompletelydifferently:Arthurisextremely
conservative,preferringtweedblazersandcheckeredfabrics.Buttheysuithim
somehow,andhe’salsoquitetheold-fashionedgentleman,offeringmeaseatand
drawingoutachairforme.

“Hownicethatyouwereabletocome,”hesayswhenwe’rebothsitting

downagain.Butthat’sexactlywhatIfoundsurprising.“Whydidyouwanttomeet
mehere?Youcouldhavejustcomebytheoffice.Jonathanwouldsurelyhave
beenpleasedtoseeyou.”

That’ssomethingthatcouldnotalwayshavebeentakenforgranted.Foralong

time,theEarlofLockwoodandhissoncouldhardlyexchangeawordwithout
fighting.But,luckily,that’sovernow,andsincemyfather-in-lawreallyenjoysthe
newharmonybetweenthem—asdoI—hetendstotakeanyopportunitytovisit.
Whenhecalledearlier,however,heinsistedonmycomingtothe“Globe,”and
nowthatIseehisanxiousface,Ifeelagrowinguneasinessinside.

“Hassomethinghappened?”
Arthurlooksatmeforamomentortwobeforeheanswers,asifheneedsto

weighhiswordscarefully.

“YuutoisinLondonagain,”hesays,andIfeeladulltuginmystomach,asif

someonehadhitmetherewithallhisstrength.

“Areyousure?”YuutoNagakoismoreorlessmybiggestpersonalnightmare.

TheJapanesemanisasuccessfulbusinessman,andforanumberofyearshewas
Jonathan’smentorandamajorinfluenceonhim.Andnotforthebetter—I’ve
seldomcomeacrossanicierperson.FeelingsareaforeignlanguagetoYuuto,and
Jonathanadoptedthatattitudeforalongtime,too.That’schangednow,since
we’veknowneachother.Afterthetwoofthempartedonbadterms,theJapanese

manmoreorlessdisappearedfromourlives.Ifhe’sbacknow,itcan’tbeagood
sign.“Howdoyouknow?”IaskArthur.

„HenryStainthorpetoldme,”heexplains.“He’sinLondonatthemoment,and

hesawYuutoattheSavoy.”

Helooksatmepenetratingly,almostpleadingly.“Hashealreadytriedto

contactJonathan?”

“No,”Isay,althoughIdon’tknowthatforsure.Oncemore,I’mpainfully

consciousthatJonathanhasbeenverysecretiveabouthisappointmentslately.But
hewouldhavetoldmeifhewasgoingtomeetYuuto,wouldn’the?

“You’vegottostophim,Grace.”Arthurisquiteworkedup.“Yuutomustn’t

forcehiswayintoJonathan’slifeagain.Notunderanycircumstances!”

Ishakemyheaddefensively.“Ican’tstophim,Arthur.ButIdon’tthinkit’llbe

necessaryanyway.Afterall,Jonathanisperfectlycapableofmakinghisown
decisions.IfwewantedtomeetwithYuuto,hecouldhavedonesolongago.But
he’snotinterestedinmeetingwithhim.Idon’tthinkthat’schanged.”

AtleastIhopenot,Ithink,smilingatmyfather-in-lawtotrytodispelthe

anxietyIcanseeinhiseyes.Butit’snoteasy,becausesuddenlytheredoubtsare
eatingawayatme,too.

“Idon’tknow,”Arthurinsists.Myargumentsclearlyhaven’treassuredhim.

“I’vegotabadfeelingaboutthis.Whyhasthefellowsuddenlyappearedagain,
afterturninghisbacktoEnglandforsolong?It’sgotsomethingtodowith
Jonathan,Iknowithas.Andthatmeanstrouble.IknowYuuto,he’svindictive.
He’lldamageJonathanifhecan—alongwithyouandme,I’mquitesureofit.”

“Nonsense,Arthur,”Ipacifyhim.“ThefightbetweenhimandJonathanwas

almosttwoyearsagonow.HecouldhaveahundredreasonsforbeinginLondon
rightnow.”

“But…”
“Jonathanwillsortitout,”IinterruptArthur’sprotest.
“Youdon’tneedtoworryaboutitatall,I’msureitwillallbe…“
Suddenly,withoutwarning,myfieldofvisionnarrowstoasmalldotina

blackcircleandIfeelmyselfgettingdizzy.Ihurriedlytakeholdoftheedgeofthe
tableandtrytocalmmybreathing.

“Grace!IseverythingOK?”Arthurtakesholdofmyupperarmandlooksat

me,shocked.“Areyouunwell?”

“It’spassednow.My…bloodpressurehasbeenabitlowlately,”Iexplain,

andimmediatelyfeelguiltyaboutnottellinghimthetruth.BecauseArthurwould
becompletelythrilledbytheimminentprospectofagrandchild—andanheir.
He’swantedthatforalongtime.I’msurehewouldbeoverthemoon.ButIhave
tocomecleanwithJonathanbeforehisfatherfindsout—andIhaven’tdonethat

yet,eventhoughI’veknownforalmostaweeknow.Sometimes,I’msohappyI
feelI’mgoingtoburst,andothertimesI’mfrozenwithfear.ButIthinkit’s
incrediblyimportanttofindjusttherightmoment—whichhasn’tpresenteditself
yet.Jonathanhashadverylittletimeformethesepastfewdays:he’sbeenrushing
aroundallthetime,andworkinglonghours.

Althoughnow,I’mbeginningtoaskmyselfifthat’sreallywhathe’sbeen

doing.Whatifhe’sbeenmeetingwithYuutoinstead?Whatifhereallyhasbeen
thinkingofreturningtohisoldlife?Suddenlyhisstrangebehaviourmakesakind
ofperversesense.Isthatwhyhewantedmyfamilytocome?No,that’sabsurd.
WhatwouldJonathanwantwiththeJapanesemanafterallthistime?There’sgot
tobeanotherexplanation,Ithink,butIdecidetofindoutwhetherthetwoofthem
areintouchwitheachotheragainasquicklyaspossible.

“Maybeyououghttoeatsomething;it’llmakeyoufeelbetter.You’refartoo

pale,”Arthursays,stillworriedaboutmydizzyspell.Hereachesforthemenu,
butIwaveitaway.

“Don’ttakeitpersonally,butI’vegotalottodoatthemoment.Ifit’sOKwith

you,I’mgoingtogetgoingagain.”Beforehecanprotest,Igetupandhughim
goodbye.But,asI’mabouttoleave,heholdsontomyarmandlooksatme
penetratingly.

“Atleasttry,Grace,won’tyou?TrytokeepYuutoawayfromJonathan.I

don’twanttolosehimagain.”Hisvoicesoundshusky.Hereallyisafraidthathis
soncouldbecomeestrangedfromhim,likehewasbefore.AndIcanunderstand
hisfear.

“Thatwon’thappen,Arthur.Don’tworryaboutit,”Ireassurehimoncemore,

smilingathim.

ButthesmilediesonmylipsassoonIturnawayand,whilewalking,Itake

mymobilephoneoutofmypocketandhurriedlydialJonathan’scell.

ThecallgoesthroughjustasI’mpushingopenthedoorandsteppingoutinto

thestreet.Butitonlyringstwice,andthenIsuddenlyheartheengagedsignal.I
stopandstareatthedisplay.

Jonathan’sneverhunguponmebeforewhenI’vecalledhim,andthefactthat

he’sjustdoneitnowofalltimesmakestheknotinmystomacheventighterthan
before.Iquicklysetoffagain—it’snotveryfarfromthe“Globe“tothe
HuntingtonVenturesbuilding,justashortwalk—andinsteadofhiscell,Idialthe
extensionnumberforhisoffice.Buthedoesn’tpickuphimself.Instead,Catherine
Shepardanswersinthatvoiceofherswhichalwayssoundssoprimandproper.
SheusuallytakesJonathan’scallsforhimwhenhe’sinameeting,andIfindthat
almostreassuring.Butit’sstilloddthatheignoredmycall.

“Catherine,it’sGracehere,”Isay,andIcanalmostseethesmileon

Jonathan’ssecretary’sprettyfaceturningintoafrozengrimace.She’snevertried
tohidethefactthatshecan’tstandmeandthinkI’mnotworthyofJonathan’slove
—Ithinkshe’soneofmanyfemaleHuntingtonVenturesemployeeswhohadsome
aspirationsoftheirownwherehe’sconcerned-,butshe’shadtopullherself
togethereversincethetimeJonathanputherinherplaceinnouncertainterms.
Shewouldn’tletherguardslipenoughtoopenlysnubme,especiallysinceI’ve
becomeJonathan’swife.Butherfundamentalattitudetowardmestillhasn’t
changed,Iknowthat.

“WhatcanIdoforyou?”sheasks,almosttooamicably.
“I’mtryingtoreachJonathan.Ishethere?”
“Yes,heis.Buthehasavisitorwithhimrightnowanddoesn’twishtobe

disturbed,”sheexplains.

“Whodoeshehavewithhim?”Iwanttoknow.
Shehesitatesforamoment.“Mr.Nagako,”shesaysandIimagineIcandetect

anoteoftriumphinhervoice.“MayItakeamessageforyourhusband?”

“No,thatwon’tbenecessary.Thankyou,”Imanagetopronounce,andthenI

hurriedlyhangup.

Soit’strue,Ithink,andIhavetoholdontoanearbylamppostbecausethe

groundbeneathmyfeetisthreateningtogivewayagain.Yuuto’sback.And
Jonathanisnotonlymeetingwithhim,butit’sclearlysoimportantthathewould
rejectmycallanddoesn’twantanyonetodisturbhim.

Ittakesamomentformydizzinesstosubside.ButonceI’mabletocarryon

walking,Icanfeelmyfightingspiritreturn,accompaniedbyafierceanger,a
muchmorewelcomeemotionthanthedespairwhichalmostgotthebetterofme.

OK,Grace,therearevariousoptionsnow,Iexplaintomyself,onehandonmy

purse,theotherballedintoafist.Eitheryouendyourdaythewayyouplannedby
askingJonathanforanexplanationthisevening—oryougooverthereandclear
thisuprightnow.Thefirstoptionwouldprobablybethemoresensibleone—
afterall,IhavenoideawhatJonathanandYuutoarediscussing.Itcouldbea
businessmatter,ortheJapaneseman’sattempttomakethingsupwithJonathan
afterallthistime.Idoubtit—YuutoNagakoistoounforgivingforthat—butit’s
apossibility,allthesame,anditwouldbeveryembarrassingifIburstinthere
andmadeascene.He’snotafanofthatkindofbehaviour—andrightlyso.

ButwhenIthinkaboutit,Iknowthere’snowayIcanholdoutuntilthis

evening.I’vegottoknowwhat’sgoingonandwhyJonathanliedtome.Right
now.

IalmostrunthelastfewstepstotheHuntingtonBuilding,onlyreducingmy

speedonceI’mwithinsightofthereceptionistdowninthefoyer.Ismileather.I

couldn’tcarelesswhatCatherinesays,Ithink,asIridetheelevatoralltheway
uptoJonathan’sofficeonthemanagementfloor.I’mgoingtogoinandinterrupt
theirdiscussion—I’mJonathan’swife,afterall.Shecan’tstopme,andI’mnot
goingtoletanyonestopme.Butluckyforme,whenIarrive,Catherine’snotather
deskbetweentheentrancestoJonathanandAlexander’stwooffices.

AfterahastyglanceatAlexander’sdoor—he’snotthere,andIremember

thatyesterdayJonathanmentionedhewasgoingonabusinesstripforafewdays
—ImakemywaystraighttoJonathan’sdoorandpushdownthehandlebeforeI
losemynerve.

Thedoorisheavyandopensquietly,almosthoveringabovethethick

carpetingthatcoverstheflooreverywhereuphere,sothatthetwomenrightatthe
backofthespaciousofficedon’tevennoticemyentrance.

Yuutoissittingwithhisbacktome,inthevisitor’schairinfrontofJonathan’s

desk,sohecan’tseeme—andJonathanisstandinginfrontofthefloor-to-ceiling
windows,lookingoutattheimpressiveLondonskyline.

“AsIalreadytoldyou—itwasamistake,”Ihearhimsay,justasI’mabout

toentertheroom.Athiswords,Ifreeze.Aice-coldfistgripsmyheart,andthe
ragewhichbroughtmehereleavesmeinaflash,becausesuddenlyI’mcertain
thathe’sreferringtoourmarriage.

IsuddenlydecidethatIdon’twantthemtonoticeI’mthere,soIquicklyshut

thedooragain—leavingitopenacrack.Ican’tseethetwomenanymore,only
hearthem.“Itwasthebiggestmistakeofmylife,infact,”Jonathancontinues,and
hisvoicesoundsdifferentfromusual.Icecold.Furious.Ihaven’thearditlikethat
foralongtime,andIcanfeelmyheartsuddenlypoundingpainfullyhardagainst
myribs.“ButI’mintheprocessofcorrectingit.”

“Really?,”Yuutoresponds,andashudderrunsdownmyspineatthesoundof

hisvoice.“Isn’tittoolateforthat?”

“No,itisn’t,”Jonathaninsists.“Icanandwilldoit.Iwon’tletitruin

everythingforme.”Hisvoiceisgettingcloser;he’sclearlywalkingthroughhis
officetowardthedoor.Thatrousesmefrommyfrozenstatewithajolt.

Hecan’tcatchmehereand,besides,I’vegottogetawaybeforeCatherine

Shepardgetsback—thefirstthingshe’ddoistellJonathanIwasthere.SoIturn
around,abouttowalkbacktotheelevator.ButI’msoupsetandshakythatIrun
intoCatherine’sdeskwithallmyforce.Mykneehitsthetableleghard,andasI
trytopreventafallwithmyhands,Iaccidentallypullastackofpapersoffthetop
ofthetable,andtheyfluttertothegroundineverydirection.Ihurryontowardthe
elevator,almostpanickingnow.Luckilythedoorsarestillopen,becausenoone
hascalleditsinceitbroughtmeuphere.Ipressabuttonatrandom,togetthe
doorstocloseasquicklyaspossible,which,luckily,theydo—atthevery

momentthatJonathan’sofficedooropens.Icatchaverybriefglimpseofhimand
thenthedoorscloseandtheelevatorstartsmovingdownward.

Idon’tthinkhesawwhocreatedthathugemessinhisreceptionarea,andI

sinkbackagainstthewalloftheelevatorinrelief.Iwouldsurelyhavediedof
shameifhehadcaughtmeeavesdropping.AndI’mgoingtoneedtimetodigest
whatIjustheard.

Istillcan’tbelieveit.IcanfeelhottearswellingupinmyeyesasIrecall

Jonathan’swords.DoeshereallythinkI’mthebiggestmistakeofhislife?That’s
prettyextreme.Buthemusthavemeantit,becauseIknowJonathan—hesounds
differentwhenhe’stalkingbusiness,muchmorerelaxed.No,whathetoldYuuto
waspersonal.Itwasabouthim,andhesoundedfurious.Andverydetermined.

Whentheelevatordoorsopenagain,IcanseethatIclearlyhappenedtopush

thebuttonfortheinvestmentdepartment.Iwastransferredtotheplanning
departmentagesago,butI’mfamiliarwiththisdepartmenttoo.Istartedouthere
whenIwasstillanintern—andmyfriendAnnieworkshere.

Annie.
Isuddenlyfeelanurgentneedtoruntoher.SheknowsJonathanandshe

knowsme.MaybeshealsoknowswhatIshoulddonow.

“Hi,Grace,towhatdoIowethehonour?”Annieisdressedinverystylish,

vintageclothes,asalways,andbeamswhenIappearatherofficedoor.Shegrows
seriousagainrightaway,though,whensheseeshowupsetIam.

“CanItalktoyouforamoment?,”Iask,feelingmylowerliptremble.Ireally

don’twanttoloseitinfrontofAnnie’scolleague,ShadrachAlani.Butthatwas
oneshocktoomanyformejustnow,soIdon’tknowhowlongI’llbeabletohold
ittogether.

Luckily,Annierecogniseswhat’shappeningandrespondsatonce.
“Ofcourse,”shesays,alreadygettingupandpushingmebackintothe

hallway.“Comeon,let’sgointothekitchen.”

Amomentlater,we’restandinginthesmallkitchenette,justlikeweusedtoso

often,whenIfirststartedworkhere.Theroomwasoursanctuarywhenwe
wantedtotalkinpeace,andrightnowit’stheperfectplacetofinallygivespace
tomyfeelings.

“IthinkJonathanisgoingtoleaveme,”Isay,forcingoutthewordsinlittle

burstsandfeelingthefirsttearsofhelplessnessrunningdownmycheeksasI
speakmygreatestfearaloud.

Annie’seyeswiden.“What?Whatgivesyouthatidea?”
Itakeadeepbreathandwipethetearsfrommycheeks.“I…overheardit.He

toldYuutojustnow,upinhisoffice.”

“Yuuto’shere?”Annieclearlyfindsthispieceofinformationconfusing.“I

thoughttheguydidn’twanttohaveanythingmoretodowithHuntingtonVentures.”

“SodidI,”Isay.“That’sjustit.Yuuto’shereagain,Annie.AndIhappenedto

overhearJonathantellinghimthathemadeabigmistake,whichnowhewantsto
putright.”Ishrugmyshouldersunhappily.“Ithinkhemeantme.”

Anniestretchesoutherarms,pullsmetowardher,andholdsmereallytight.It

reallydoesmegood.

“Ohsweetie,that’scompletenonsense!Jonathanlovesyouandhewouldn’t

dreamofleavingyou.Themaniscrazyaboutyou!”

Ireleasemyselffromherarmsandshakemyhead.
“No,heisn’t.Notanymore.He’schanged,Annie—Ijustdidn’tknowwhatto

makeofitall.But,nowthatYuutoishereagain,itallmakessense.Jonathan
probablyfeelsIdon’tgivehimenoughspace.And,atthelatest,whenhefindsout
thatI,I…”IpausebecauseIdidn’tactuallymeantobringupthesubject.

“Thatyouwhat?”Annieinsists,lookingatmeinawaythatsaysthatshe’snot

goingtoletmeoffthateasily.

“ThatI’mpregnant,”Ifinishmysentenceandwaitforherreaction.Sheraises

hereyebrows.

“But—that’swonderful,isn’tit?”sheasks,visiblysurprised.
“No,itisn’t.Atleast,notforJonathan,”Iexplain,feelingthetearswellingup

inmyeyesagain.“Hedoesn’twantanychildren,Annie.AndnowI’mscaredthat
he’lluseitasareasontoendourrela…“

AnnieandIbothwhiproundwhenthedoorsuddenlyopens.Webothstare

open-mouthedatJonathan,who’sstandinginthedoorway.

4

“Annie,wouldyoumindleavingGraceandmealoneforamoment,”hesaysin
thatcalmbutverydeterminedvoicewhichbrooksnocontradiction,holdingmy
gazeashespeaks.Hisblueeyesaresparkling,butthat’snotangerthatIcansee
insidethem.IleastIdon’tthinkso,becauseactuallyI’mfartooconfusedtobe
abletothinkstraightatall.

Idon’twantAnnietoleave,butIcan’tstopher.Shejustsqueezesmyhand

brieflyoncemore,smilesencouraginglyatme,andthenwalkspastJonathantothe
door,closingitbehindheragain.

Foramoment,JonathanandIstandfacingeachotherinthesmallroom,which

suddenlyfeelswaytoocramped.MyheartisbeatingwildlyandIcanfeel
everythingdrawingmetowardhim—thewayIalwaysfeel.Thatwillprobably
neverchange.ButIcrossmyarmsinfrontofmychestandresisttheurgetogoto
him,asInormallywould.BecauseaftereverythingIjustheard,itseemsasthough
that’sexactlywhathenolongerwants.

“Whatwereyoudoingupstairsjustnow?”heasks,andhisblueeyesfixmeso

penetratinglythatIswallow.Sohesawmeafterall.Ishouldhaveknownit
wouldn’tescapehisnotice.

“Iwantedtocomeseeyou,”Isay,becauseit’strue.
“Andwhydidyourunawayagain?”
“Doyoureallyneedtoask?”ThedespairI’vebeenfeelingflipsoverinto

angeragain.“You’vebeenmeetingYuutobehindmyback,whichisalreadybad
enough.AndthenIhearyoutellinghimthatmarryingmewasabigmistakewhich
youwanttosetright.”IswallowasIsayit,andfreshtearsarestingingmyeyes.
ButIholdhisgaze,Idon’twanthimtoseethatit’stearingmeapartinside.“Now
atleastIknowtheworst,”Icontinue.“Ijustwishyou’dbeenhonestwithmeand
toldmeyourselfthatyou’dhadenoughofme.ThenatleastIwouldhavehadthe
chanceto…“

Jonathanreachesmeintwosteps,takesmeinhisarms,coversmymouthwith

akiss,andwon’tletmefinishspeaking.TheworlddisappearsforamomentasI
completelyabandonmyselftothedesireheawakensinme.Thenhereleasesmy
lips.Buthegoesonholdingmetight,whichisagoodthingbecausemyknees
havegoneweakandI’mfinallywaytooconfusedtoputupanyresistance.

“Grace,youcompletelymisunderstoodthesituation.WhenIsaidI’dmadea

verybigmistake,Iwasn’ttalkingaboutyou;Iwastalkingaboutthecompany.I
wasangrythatIhadn’tbeenpayingmoreattention,hadn’tnoticedearlierjusthow
criticalthesituationhadbecome.That’swhatIwanttoputright—notmy
marriagetoyou.”

Thenewscompletelytakesthewindoutofmysails,andmyangervanishes

intothinair.Ilookathiminsurprise.“AndwhyareyoumeetingwithYuuto
again?”

„BecauseIthinkhe’sbehindallthis.IwantedtoseeifIcouldgetanythingout

ofhim,becauseIcan’tproveit.Buthe’sactingasthoughhehadnothingtodo
withit.”

“Youshouldhavetoldme!I’myourwife.Ifyou’rehavingproblemswiththe

companyIwanttoknow—andIwanttoknowifyou’remeetingwithYuuto
again!”Icomplain.

Jonathanreleasesmeagainandrunshishandthroughhishair.
“Ididn’twanttoupsetyou.Yuuto’sdoneenoughdamagealready.Ijust

wantedtokeephimawayfromyou.Ididn’twantyoutohavetoworryabouthim
again.”

Thatwasprettychivalrousofhim,it’strue,andIfeelawarmfuzzyfeeling

spreadinginsidemewhenitregistersoncemorejusthowmuchIlovehim.ButI
definitelycan’tjustletthisonego.“ButIdidworry.BecauseInoticedsomething
waswrong,andIsimplycouldn’tworkoutwhatwastroublingyousomuch.”

Jonathansmilesandputshisarmsaroundmeagain,pullingmetowardhim.

“AndtheonlyexplanationyoucouldcomeupwithisthatIdidn’tloveyou
anymore?”Heshakeshisheadandkissesme.“Youmusthavealotoffaithinme.”

Ilookathimindignantly,eventhoughI’veactuallylongsinceforgivenhim.
“Thennexttime,justtellmethetruthrightaway—soIdon’thavetocomeup

withanyfunnyideas,”Iscoldhim.“Ifyouhadn’tkeptthisbusinesswithYuutoa
secret,allthiswouldneverhaveoccurredtome.”

Igetupontomytiptoesandtrytokisshim,butheplacesafingertomylips.

He’slookingmeatmeearnestlynow.

“Andwhatsecretshaveyoubeenkeepingfromme?”
Istareathim,shocked.
“Grace,I’mnotblind.Somethingisbotheringyou.Atfirst,Ithoughtyouwere

missingyourfamily,butthatdoesn’tseemtobeit,doesit?”Hiseyesarefixedon
mineandIseethesameuncertaintyinthemthatIfeltwhenInoticedthathewas
keepingsecretsfromme.Itendangeredourrelationship,soit’sgottostopnow,I
think.

“No,it’ssomethingelse,”Iconfess.“Somethingyouprobablywon’tlike.”

Jonathansighs.Deeply.“Whateveritis,Grace,aslongasitdoesn’tchange

anythingbetweenus,Icanlivewithit.”“ButI’mafraidsomethingisgoingto
change,”Isayandhisgazedarkens.ButIcarryonspeaking.“I’mpregnant,
Jonathan.”

Ittakeshimawhiletograspthenews,andIdon’ttakemyeyesoffhisface,

watchingashisexpressionchangesfromshocktoastonishmentto—relief.

“Ididn’tplanit,itjusthappened,”Iexplain.“Andsinceyoudon’twantto

haveanychildren,Ididn’tknowhowtotellyou.Iwasafraidyouwouldhave
troublegettingusedtotheidea.”

Jonathansmilesalittlewryly.
“Well,yes,thethoughtdoestakesomegettingusedto,”hesays.“ButIthink

we’llmanagesomehow.”

“Thenyoudon’tmind?”Ican’tquitegraspthefactthathe’stakingitsolightly.
“Believeitornot,Grace,I’mnotthesamemanwhotoldyouchildrenwere

outofthequestionforme.You’reright,itwasunthinkabletomeforalongtime
—butsoweremanyotherthings,beforeImetyou.Nowtheonlythingthat
matterstomeisthatyou’rehappy,andifyouwantthischild,Iwantit,too.”He
sighs.“Justpromisemethateverything’sOK,andnothingbadishappening.And
you’llhavetobepatientwithme.Ireallydon’tbelieveI’llbeaparticularlygood
father.”

AbroadgrinspreadsacrossmyfaceasIfeeltheweightofthepastfewdays

finallyfallingoffmyshoulders.

“You’llbethebestfather.You’realwaysthebestateverything,afterall!”I

reassurehim.Whenwekisseachother,myheartfeelslighterthanithasinalong
time.

Butthere’sjustoneproblem.
“So,whatarewegoingtodoaboutYuuto?”
Jonathanshrugshisshoulders.“Noidea.I’minabitofabind.I’mcertain

he’sbehindtheattacksonHuntingtonVentures,but,asIsaid,Idon’thaveany
proof.That’swhyIsummonedhim.IactedasthoughIwantedhisadvice;because
Ithoughthemightgivemeaclueastowhatkindofagamehe’splaying,whathe’s
uptowithme.Buthewascoolasacucumber,andactedlikeitwasnoneofhis
concern.ButwhenIlookedintohiseyes,Icouldseehelookedtriumphant.And
rightlyso—hereallyisdamagingus,andifIdon’tfindoutsoonwhetherhetruly
isbehindthisandwhathe’splanningtodo,we’regoingtohaveaproblemonour
hands.”

It’sworryinghim,Icanseethat,andnowIunderstandwhyhe’sbeensobusy

thesepastfewweeks.Itmusthavebeenquiteablowtohim,thattheJapaneseman

wasabletotrickhimlikethat.SinceIbelieveIwaspartlyresponsible—after
all,Ioftendistractedhim-,IalsofeellikeIhavearesponsibilitytohelphim.

“Maybeyou’vejustbeengoingaboutthisthewrongway,”Isay,smilingat

him,ashelooksatmeinsurprise.

“Whatdoyoumean?”
“IthinkaquitedifferentapproachmightworkwithYuuto,”Iexplain.“And

I’vealreadygotanideaastowhatyoucoulddo.”

IpullJonathandowntowardmewithamischievoussmile,tolethiminonthe

planthat’sbeginningtotakeshapeinmymind.

5

CatherineShepardsticksherheadaroundthedoor.

“Mr.Nagakoisonhiswayupnow,”sheinformsme,andInodtoherfrommy

seatatJonathan’sdesk.Ican’tmanageasmile;I’mtooworkedupforthat.

WhenIconfidedmyplantoJonathaninthekitchenyesterday,itallsoundedso

simple.ButnowthatI’msittinghere,waitingforthearrivalofamanwhois
definitelyoneofthecreepiestpeopleI’veevermet,itdoesn’tseemsoeasy.My
palmsaresweatyandIcanfeelhowhotmycheeksare—signsofmynerves,
whicharegettingworsebythemoment.SoI’mhappywhen,soonafterwards,
there’saknockatthedoorandCatherineletstheJapanesemanin.

He’shardlychangedsinceIlastsawhim.He’sgreyingatthetemplesabit

more,buthe’sstillprettyimpressive—tall,dark,andstrangelyimpassive.
Somehowcold,atleastatfirstsight.BecauseIrecogniseanangrygleaminhis
eyeswhenhespotsmesittingatthedesk.Hewasn’texpectingthat—whichisa
goodthing.

“Pleasesitdown,Mr.Nagako,”Isay,indicatingthevisitor’schairwithatight

smileandwaitingforhimtoapproach,whichhefinallydoes,afteralittle
hesitation.Butthenhefixesmewithhisdarkalmondeyessuspiciously.

“What’sgoingon?,”heasks,visiblyangry.“Where’sJonathan?”
Ismileoncemore,hopinghewon’tnoticehowdifficultI’mfindingthis.“He

sentmeinhisplace.I’mhiswife,afterall.Youdon’tmind,doyou?”

Yuuto’slipsshriveltoanarrowwhitelineandhehastroublesuppressinghis

angerattheaffront.

“Thisisoutrageous.IhadanappointmentwithJonathan.”Hiseyesare

shootingoutboltsoflightning,andhegetsupagain,abouttoleave.“Bringhim
here.Iwanttospeaktohim,nottoyou.”

IleanbackinJonathan’schair,whichisactuallyfartoobigforme,andkeep

onsmiling.“Well,I’mafraidyou’llhavetosettleforme.Hedoesn’thavetimefor
yourightnow,”Iexplain,watchinghislipsnarrowevenmore—ifthat’seven
possible.“Ashiswife,Ihavealotofinfluenceoverhim.AndsinceIhavea
problemwithyoushowinguphere,he’snotgoingtomeetwithyouanymore.I’m
sosorry.”

Yuutoscruncheshishandsupintofists.He’sallbutfoamingatthemouthnow;

Icanseethat,soIaddinsulttoinjurybyindicatingthedoor.

“That’sallIwishtosaytoyou.Itwasnicetalkingtoyou.Catherinewillbe

happytoescortyoudownstairs.Haveanicelife,Mr.Nagako.”

“Whodoyouthinkyouare!”heroarsatme.“Doyouthinkyoucanjustdecide

whetherJonathancanseeme?Ithinkyou’reseriouslyoverestimatingwhatyou
meantohim.”

“No,Ithink,you’reseriouslyoverestimatingwhatyoumeantohim,”Ireply

coolly.“Jonathandoesn’twantanythingmoretodowithyou.”

Yuutocoversthetwostepswhichseparatehimfromthedeskandbendsalong

wayforwardoverit,tillhisfaceisveryclosetomine.He’stryingtointimidate
me,Iknow,butIstanduptohim.Ilookathimchallengingly.

“Oh,really?”There’sgenuineangerinhiseyes.“Buthe’sgoingtohaveto

dealwithme.DidyouthinkI’dforgottenhowmuchhehumiliatedmebackthen?
Hemademeloseface,andhe’sgoingtopayforit.”

WestareateachforamomentortwoandIhaveflashbacksofthescenesat

PrimroseHillalmosttwoyearsago.Yuutocalledmeuglynames,evenhitme,and
Jonathanwentforhimandbeathimup—adisgracewhichtheJapanesemanstill
hasn’tgottenover.SoArthur’sfearthathemightstillbeoutforrevengewas
completelyjustified.“Youcan’thurtJonathan,”Isay,smilingasmockinglyasI
can.Whichisn’tdifficultwithYuuto,becauseIdespisethemanfromthebottomof
myheart.“Hehasnopersonalorbusinessdealingswithyouwhatsoever.He’scut
yououtofhislife.Withoutareplacement,bytheway.”

NowYuutoispositivelyseeingred,andIcantellhe’sabouttolosecontrol.
“Buthewon’tbeabletocutmeoutofhislife,onceI’vetakenoverpartofhis

company,”hegrowls,withoutalteringhisthreateningposture.“Andthat’sjustthe
beginning.He’llsoonfindoutthatIhavealotofinfluence.”

“Youcan’tdothat,”Isay,shrinkingbackfromhimalittleandlookingathim

wide-eyed.“NoonecantakeJonathan’scompanyawayfromhim.”Yuutolaughs,
clearlyverypleasedtohavefinallyapparentlyintimidatedme.

“Itwasn’teasytogettohim,Ihavetoadmit.Ihadtowaitalongtime,solong

thathewasnolongerexpectingmetobeabletodohimanydamage.Buthe’ll
soonfindout.Youdon’tattackYuutoNagakoandgetawaywithit.”

Ibendforwardalittlemore.
“AndwhatifItellJonathanallthis?”
TheangerinYuuto’seyescoolsmarkedlyasheworksoutthathe’sgiven

awayalotmorethanheintendedto.Buthepullshimselftogether.“Goahead.It’s
toolateanyway.Bythetimeheunderstandswhat’shappened,I’llhavelongsince
carriedoutmyplan—andwon.”

“Ornot.”Jonathan’svoiceringsoutbehindus,makingYuutowhipround.
He’sstandingwithhisarmscrossed,leaningagainstthedoortothesmall

bedroomthatadjoinshisoffice,wherehelistenedinonmyconversationwith
Yuuto.Ifindhimunbelievablysexy,inhisdarkclotheswiththatself-confident
smileonhislips.Everythingwentaccordingtoplan,Ithink,andIcanseethat
YuutohashadthelightningrealisationthatIgothimtobetrayhimselfonpurpose.

“Iwasn’tcompletelysurewhetheryouwerebehindtheattemptstoweaken

partsofmycompany.ButI’lltellyouonething—nowIknowit’syou,Ialso
knowhowtopreventanyfurtherattacks.”Hereleasesthedoorframeandslowly
goesuptoYuuto.Hestopsrightinfrontofhimandthetwomenstareeachother
down.“IcouldgoevenfurtherthanthatandlaunchanattackonNagako
Enterprisesinretaliation,”Jonathancontinues.“HuntingtonVenturesislargeand
flourishingenoughtobeabletoriskahostiletakeover,ifitcametothat.Ifmy
calculationsarecorrect,we’dbeabletosuccessfullyclosethedeal.”

Thathithome,becauseamuscleistwitchinginYuuto’sotherwiseimpassive

face.

“But,tobehonest,I’mnotspoilingforafight,”Jonathanqualifies.“Ihaveno

interestingainingtheupperhandoveryou,oryourcompany.Onthecontrary.I
thinkwecouldbothprofitfromapeacefulcoexistence.SoI’mwillingtoforgo
anysuchaction,ifyou’repreparedtoceaseanyfurtherattemptstodamage
HuntingtonVentures,withimmediateeffect,andnevertointerfereinmywife’s
andmypersonallifeagain.”

It’sapeaceoffering,andIreallyadmireJonathanforit,andevenYuutoseems

impressed.Atleast,theexpressionofhatredfadesfromhiseyesandsomeofthe
tensionleaveshisbody.

“Youleavemenochoice,”hestates—butJonathanshakeshishead.
“Onealwayshasachoice,Yuuto.Wecangoonbeingatwarwitheachother

—butI’dchoosepeaceifIwereyou.”

TheJapanesemanissilentforamoment,andthenhenods.“Awisechoice.

Wiserthanmine,”hesays.HeturnsaroundabruptlyandwalkspastJonathan
towardthedoor,whileJonathancomesovertome,behindthedesk.

WebothwaitforthedoortoclosebehindtheJapanesemanagain,andwhenit

doesIsighwithreliefandleanagainstJonathan,buryingmyfaceagainsthischest.
“Isincerelyhopethat’sthelastwe’llseeofhim!”

“Well,Idon’tthinkhe’llbotherusagain—forawhile,atleast.”Heplacesa

handundermychinandforcesmyfaceupsoIamlookingathim.“Thankstomy
utterlyingeniouswife.Infuriatinghimlikethatwasabrilliantidea,”headds,
givingmeakiss,whichIhappilyreturn.I’monlysemi-consciousofhimliftingme
upandcarryingmeovertothesmallbedroom,whilehegoesonkissingmeandI

happilyletithappen.Hesetsmedownagaininfrontofthebed,andlocksthe
door.

“IthoughtYuutowouldn’tbeabletoresistboastingabouthowhecouldhurt

you,”Isay,asJonathantakesmeinhisarmsagain.“I’venevermetamore
conceitedandegotisticalman.Andthefactthathe’ssoeasytowindupactually
madeitsimpler.”Asuddenthoughtgivesmepause.“Doyouthinkhe’lltryagain
sometime?”Jonathanshrugshisshoulders.

“Ihavenoidea.Perhaps.Butifhedoes,I’mforewarned.Iwascarelessonce,

butIwon’tletithappenagain.AndIbelievethatevenYuutowillgettiredof
carryingouthisrevengeplans,aslongaswedon’tgivehimanyfurtherreasonto
doso.”

Iundoafewmorebuttonsofhisshirt,andwhenI’mdoneIslidemyhand

overhissmooth,muscularchest,smiling.“Sodoyouthinkhe’lleverstophating
you?”

Jonathannods.“Idon’tknowwhetherhehatesme—butIreallyinsultedhim

backthen,andyouknowhowimportantitisforaJapanesemannottoloseface.
SoItriedtogivehimachancetowithdrawwithhisdignitymoreorlessintact.If
we’relucky,he’llcalmdownnowandfinallyputthethingtorest.Ifnot,I’mgoing
totakedifferentmeasures.”

Ipressakissontohischestwithasigh,asIsliphisshirtoverhisshoulders.

“Ithinkheneverreallyunderstood.”

Jonathanraiseshiseyebrows.“Understoodwhat?”
“Whyyouchosemeofallpeople,”Isay,realizingthatmyanxietyafter

yesterday’smisunderstandinghasnotcompletelydissipatedyet.“Afterall,you
couldhavehadanywomanyouwanted.”Jonathanplaceshishandsonmybutt
withanamusedsmile,pullingmeevenclosertowardhim.

“ButIonlywantedyou,”hecontradictsme.“AndIcanproveittoyou.”
Hekissesmeagain,muchmorepassionatelythistime,conqueringmymouth

withhistongueuntilI’mmeltingwithdesireandI’veforgottenthatwewereever
divided.Withhurriedmotions,weundresseachotherandjustsecondslaterwe’re
lyingbesideeachotherinbed.ThenJonathanbeginstopleasuremewithhis
handsandlips,lettingthemslidehotlyovermyskin.

“IwantyoubecauseIlovethewayyoufeel—sosoftandperfect,”hesays.

“Iloveknowingeverycornerofyourbody—everyvalleyandeveryhilland
knowingwhereyoulikeitthemost—whereyouwanttobetouched.”

Hegivestheplaceshementionedverythoroughattentionandwithinminutes

I’maflamewithdesireandbreathingheavily,whichmakeshimsmile
triumphantly.“Butthat’snotall,”hecontinues,strokingthevalleybetweenmy
breastswithhisnose.“There’salsoyourseductivescent.Nootherwomansmells

likeyou,sofreshandflowery,likeasummermeadowthatIcouldliedowninto
lookupatthesky.”Heletshismouthwanderfurtherdown,priesmylegsapart
beforeIcanopenthemforhimwillingly,andmakesmemoanwithdesireashe
touchesmyswollen,erectclitwithhistongue.“Andnoonetastesasintoxicating
asyou.I’maddictedtoyournectar,addictedtodrinkingitupwhileyousquirm
withpleasureandI’mtheonegivingyouthatpleasure.”

“Jonathan!”Isquirmbeneaththetouchesofhislipsandhistongueuntil

powerfulshuddersrunthroughmybodyandI’mabouttoclimax.Onlythendoes
hereleaseme,returningtomewhenIstretchmyarmsouttowardhim.Whenour
lipsmeet,IcantastemyownessenceandImoanbecauseIneedhimso
desperately.

“Butthat’snotall,”hesaysinarawvoice,pressinghimselfontopofmeand

enteringmedeeplywithasinglefirmthrust,thenstayingthere,lookingintomy
eyes.“Thebestthingofallisthefeelingofbeinginsideyouandfeelingyou
surroundingme,allhotandtight.Icouldhaveiteverydayandstillneverget
enough.”Heholdsmygazeashebeginstomove,strokingmylipsgently.“Icould
sleepwithotherwomen,butI’dneverbeabletolosemyselfinthem,asIcanwith
you.Itwouldn’tbethesame,Grace.Itwouldneverbeevenremotelythesame—
becauseIloveyou.AndIneedyou.Onlyyou.Icouldnevergiveyouup.”

HiskissturnsmoredemandingandIwrapmyarmsaroundhisneck,

completelyconsumedbythefeelingthatwereallydobelongtogether.Without
trying,wefallintoarhythmwhichtakesushigherandhigher.

Iknowexactlywhenhe’sgoingtocome,Icanseethereleaseinhisfaceashe

letshimselffallintothewhirlpoolofpassion,andIcryoutashepullsmealong
withhim,becauseIlovegoingunderwithhimsomuch.It’sintense,likean
earthquake,intimateandyetviolent.Itmakesmeloseallsenseoftimeandspace.
There’sonlyJonathanandme,Ilosemyselfcompletelyinthedepthsofhisblue
eyes,whichdon’tstoplookingatmeforasecond.Ishudderagainandagain,
alongwithhim,untilwe’refinallystilloncemore.Idon’tletgoofhim,even
whenhewithdrawsfrommeatsomepointandrollsontohisside.Istayinhis
arms,theonlyplaceIwanttobe.

“Itwon’thurtthebaby,ifwehavesex,willit?,”Jonathanasks,oncehe’s

breathingcalmlyagain,lookingatmesoanxiouslythatIsmileathimin
amusement.

“No,itdefinitelywon’t,”Iassurehim.
Hehesitatesforamomentandthenheplaceshishandonmytummyand,

afterwards,whenhelooksintomyeyes,Ihavetoblinkbacktearsofemotion
becausehe’strulyacceptedit.Icanseeitinhiseyes.It’snolongerjustmychild,
it’shischild,ourchild—andtheprospectofthefutureholdsnofearsforme

anymore.Alotofthingsaregoingtochange—butI’mnotafraid,becauseInow
knowthatwe’llbeabletogetthroughthistogether.“Dad’sgoingtobeoverthe
moonwhenhefindsoutaboutthebaby,”Jonathansayswithawrysmile.

“AnheirtoLockwoodHouse,atlast.”
“Oranheiress,”Iremindhim.“Whatifit’sagirl?”Jonathanletshimselffall

backontothepillowsandpullsmebackintohisarms.“ThenIguesstherewillbe
twowomentowhomIwon’tbeabletodenyanythinginthewholeworld,”he
says,kissingme.“Speakingofwhich—I’vegotsomethingforyou.”Hereleases
me,standsup,slipsintohispants,anddisappearsbrieflyintotheadjoiningoffice.
Maybehedoesn’twantCatherinetocatchhimbutt-naked,ifshehappenedtowalk
intotheofficeatthatmoment,Ithink.Butthatwouldhavebeenratherunlikely
sincehereturnsonlyafewmomentslater—withasmallboxinhishand,tied
witharibbon.

“What’sthat?”Iask,takingitfromhimandamalreadypullingattheribbon

whileJonathanliesdownbesidemeagain.IgaspwithastonishmentwhenIopen
itandseetheringinside.

“That’sbeautiful!”Icry,delighted,takingitoutoftheboxandadmiringit

fromeveryangle.It’smadeofplatinumandit’sratheramodern,simpleshape,set
withalarge,square-cutemerald.“YourValentine’sDaypresent—alittlein
advance,butIthinkyouearnedittoday,”Jonathanexplains.Nowthathementions
it,IrememberwithajoltthatitreallyisthefourteenthofFebruarytomorrow.
Jonathantakestheringandputsitonme.Itfitsmylittlefingerperfectly,andI
don’tknowwhichofusisbeamingmoreradiantly—meortheemerald—which
makeshimsmile.“Thegreenremindedmeofyoureyes,andthedesignisas
originalandbeautifulanduniqueasyouare,soIsimplyhadtobuyit.”

“Thankyou!”Ihughim,onlytoletgoofhimamomentlater.“ButIdon’thave

anythingforyou!I’vebeensowrappedupinthenewsthatweweregoingtohave
achildthatIcompletelyforgotaboutValentine’sDay.”

Jonathanjustlaughs.“Don’tworryaboutit.I’vealreadyhadmypresent,”he

says,pullingmebackintohisarmsandkissingmeuntilourpassionawakens
againandIcan’tthinkofanythingexcepthowunbelievablyhappyhemakesme.
Today,tomorrow,andforever.

ColoursofLove—Unleashed

Wasithotenoughforyou?

We’dloveyouropinion!HowdidyouhearaboutColoursofLove?

Whatdoyoulikeabouttheseries?

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Areyoureadyformore?Howabout:

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