Chapter 9

Kate awoke to her alarm and the sound of rain beating against the French windows, and possibly she was more nervous the second morning that she approached the bed but for very different reasons this time though.

Isaak was asleep and there was no comment from him, this morning, when she slipped in between the sheets.

Kate lay on her side and facing away from him, closing her eyes as her heart hammered in her chest.

Asleep, the slight disturbance, the soft bleep of an alarm would usually be enough to wake him for Isaak always rose early, yet he allowed himself the rare indulgence of hitting snooze.

Or did he hit it?

Whatever, the alarm had gone off, and Isaak slipped back into his dream—the sound of laughter, the dark wood of a hotel room, the taste of a sweet crepe, and then it shifted to feeding Kate her dessert last night and the feel of her dancing in his arms on their wedding night.

He remembered their kiss, the sublime of her tongue but not the harsh exchange afterwards. He felt the indent of the bed and then her faint floral scent stirred him closer to awake.

“Kate?” His voice was low and smoky with want and, as naturally as breathing, Isaak rolled toward the feminine side of the bed, his arm coming over her waist and to the soft of her stomach. His mouth met her shoulder, nuzzling beneath her hair, and just as he went to pull her into his fierce erection, just as his hand went to move from her stomach to slide between her legs and bring her to slick pleasure, it was then that Isaak properly awoke.

She felt his sudden restraint, his hand moving back to her stomach and Kate could barely breathe, because there was want between her legs, too. His cock he had freed from confines and the head was there in the middle of her thigh and there was an ache in her heavy breasts and she almost willed his hand to leave the warm space where it held her stomach.

“I didn’t hear the alarm,” Isaak said. “Can we pretend that didn’t happen.”

“I don’t want to.”

There was the absence of fear for the very first time, combined with the soft stroke of his fingers on her stomach and the weight of him still on her thigh and she ached for it to creep up.

“Can I ask something?” Still his fingers were stroking her very gently through the fabric, his mouth kissing down her shoulder. “Something I worry about…”

“Yes.”

“You said he seemed patient at first… Basil.”

“Yes.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t make me like this,” Kate admitted. “He didn’t help matters but it wasn’t him that caused it.”

“What happened?” Isaak asked. “You don’t have to tell me, I just…” It made him ill at the thought that someone had hurt her. “It might help if I know.”

She’d never told another.

It was the most shameful moment of her life, and Kate lay there reliving it for a moment and he felt the tension rip through her.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“You truly can.”

“I got caught.”

“Caught?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” He rolled her onto her back and propped himself on an elbow. Looking down at her, he was seriously curious now. “Caught by whom?”

“My mother.” She could see the confusion in his eyes.

“Did she catch you with your boyfriend?”

“No, no.” Her cheeks were on fire, and yet she still managed to look at him. Maybe if she could admit it, just say it out loud… “When I was a teenager, one day everyone was out, I didn’t hear her come home and my mother caught me exploring my lady garden.”

Isaak’s English was excellent, rarely did he have to pause a conversation to translate in his head, but that was what he was doing now.

What the fuck was a lady garden? Did she mean…?

He was terribly aware that his reaction must be serious, and he had expected it to be, for he had been expecting to have to contain his anger against another man, never for a moment had he thought that he might need to contain his laughter.

Nyet, he told himself, for he must not laugh, but he was watching the embarrassment turn to horror in her eyes as she saw his serious face struggle for composure.

“You cannot laugh!” Kate shouted. It was her darkest secret, her absolute shame, and he had the audacity to laugh!

“Oh, baby…” He was trying to stop, rarely did Isaak laugh but he was shaking from it now as he kissed her tense face. “Oh, no, I should not laugh.” Not that that stopped him. “I am sorry. I have never heard it described as lady garden…”

To hear him say those words mixed with the sound of laughter, it was an Isaak she had never seen, his words, the kisses to her face, the way he apologised as he tried to compose himself. Surely he could not have reacted any worse to her confession, and so why was she smiling too? Why did she feel a cloak of shame lift as she also started to laugh?

“Lady garden!” Isaak said again.

“That’s what she called it.”

“No wonder you’ve got issues.” He looked down at her. “I could have fun with that forever… I’m going to trim the lady garden.” There was a knock at the door. “I’m going to plant seeds in the lady garden.” Then he called for the maid to come in.

He was still laughing as a tray was delivered to his lap.

Oh my, she thought of the serious faces of umpteen counsellors and doctors she had visited over the years and then she looked to the smiling face of possibly the most insensitive man, but again she’d misread him.

“You did nothing wrong,” he said when the door had closed and it was just the two of them. “Nothing. Lucky I did not have your mother, she would have been losing it three times a day.”

She just stared back at him, and he was suddenly serious. “Yes.” Isaak nodded. “It is normal, it is nice.” He picked up her hand and gave it a kiss. “I am sorry to laugh but…”

“No.” She stared at him, it was the honesty of his reaction that had lifted her. It was that he truly did not seem to think what she had done had been a problem. Oh, the counsellors and doctors had said the same and intellectually she knew they were right—but her mother’s horror and revulsion at such a formative time bypassed all logic and had settled in deep.

But then so too did Isaak settle in deep, for suddenly his eyes were serious and he leant over and gave her a very nice kiss.

“She should not have shamed you. That was so, so wrong.”