Lee Wilkinson - The Determined Husband

All it amounted to, she told herself firmly, was that, with the amount of work he was trying to get done, there was no time at the present for a wife and a family.

As he himself had said, it was too soon.

But for a man who was as much of a workaholic as he was, would there ever be time?

No, she mustn’t think like that. If she was patient as he’d asked, surely everything would come right?

Sunday was a long, lonely day, and by ten-thirty that evening Sera had given up all hope of Keir coming. She had cleaned her teeth and put on a thin cotton nightdress, when there was the lightest of taps at the door.

Hurrying over, she threw it open.

‘Hi.’ He smiled at her. ‘I wondered if you might be asleep.’

Her relief and pleasure at seeing him was so great that, for a moment, she was speechless.

Then, because she couldn’t say all the things she felt, she asked mundanely, ‘Are you coming in for a coffee?’

He shook his head. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

Anxious not to pressure him, she said brightly, ‘I’m fine.’

Her reward was a light kiss on the cheek. ‘Then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at six-thirty. We’ll have a walk in the park, weather permitting. If it’s raining—’

Afraid of what he was going to say, she broke in hurriedly, ‘If it’s raining, I’ll cook you some breakfast.’

Grinning, he said, ‘When I say my prayers, I’ll pray for rain.’

Back on their former footing, snatching whatever time together he could manage, the next couple of weeks were happy ones for Sera.

Though Keir never made any attempt to make love to her, and kept the relationship light, there was a warmth about him, a caring that spoke volumes.

At odd times, when he looked at her, she saw desire flare in those long, heavy-lidded eyes.

Desire that lit an answering flame.

Had he made the slightest move, she would have gone to him willingly, eagerly. But, always with a will-power she could only marvel at, he beat it down.

The fact that he refused to take what she would happily have given, served only to deepen her feelings for him.

Love, as a poet once said, is hard to hide, and there was a glow about her that lit up the office.

Returning from a business trip, Cheryl Rothwell noticed that radiance, and remarked to her PA, ‘You look as if life’s giving you a treat.’ Then, shrewdly she added, ‘Which means a man. What’s his name?’

Taken by surprise, Sera found herself admitting, ‘Keir Sutherlands.’

‘Keir Sutherlands?’ Cheryl sounded startled, and none too pleased. ‘Some man!’

Though she smiled, Sera could sense the unspoken envy.

Her expression interested, Cheryl observed, ‘I met him a couple of weeks ago when Martin and he had some business to discuss…’

All at once she paused, her attention caught by the silver ring Sera wore. But after a moment’s scrutiny, clearly dismissing it as of no importance, she went on, ‘Though I wouldn’t call him film-star handsome, he’s an attractive devil, and his sex appeal hits you like a sock on the jaw.’

Then, sharply, she asked, ‘Where did you meet him? Was it here?’

‘No. He has an apartment next door to mine.’

Cheryl frowned. ‘What’s a man who owns Sutherlands doing living in some run-down apartment building?’

Sera, who had never considered the question, shook her head.

‘Do you know how long he’s lived there?’ Cheryl pursued.

‘Only for a short time, I gather.’

‘Odd… Perhaps I’ll ask him about it when he comes to the party on Thursday night…’

Anglo American did a great deal of corporate entertaining. Like Keir, Martin Rothwell considered that more opportunities presented themselves and more real business was done in a relaxed, social atmosphere than over an office desk.

Her light blue eyes on her PA’s face, Cheryl added casually, ‘I suppose you’ll be coming?’

Well aware that it wasn’t the answer the other woman was hoping for, Sera said steadily, ‘Yes, Keir said he’d take me.’

But, sounding more like herself, Cheryl exclaimed, ‘Lucky you! I can’t say I’m not jealous.’

When Keir finally knocked at Sera’s door on Thursday evening he was well over an hour late, and she had practically given him up.

Brushing his apology aside, she assured him, ‘It doesn’t matter. Honestly. Posh parties really aren’t my thing.’

‘How many have you been to?’

‘None,’ she admitted.

‘Then I’ll do my best to see you enjoy this one.’

He was looking devastatingly attractive in well-cut evening clothes and, knowing this gathering was certain to be a lavish affair, she asked a shade hesitantly, ‘Will I do?’

She had splashed out on a new dress, and with only a limited amount to spend had gone for simplicity, choosing a slim-fitting ankle-length sheath in muted shades of green and dull silver.

‘Not everyone can wear this kind of thing,’ the sales girl had remarked, ‘but you sure have the figure for it.’

Sera’s only reservation had been the scooped neckline, which revealed the soft swell of her breasts and more than a glimpse of cleavage.

She was wearing her only piece of jewellery, a long, thin, silver chain that looped twice. It had been her mother’s, and she had worn it ever since her grandmother had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday.

Keir’s glance travelling slowly over her, from her elegant knot of hair to her matching sandals. He raised her hand to his lips. ‘My love, you look enchanting,’ he said huskily.

Thrilled by the endearment, she asked, ‘You don’t think the neckline’s too daring?’

‘No…’ His eyes on the longest loop of the chain, which disappeared into her cleavage, he added ruefully, ‘Though it’s daring enough to raise my blood pressure several notches.’

Seeing the lick of flame in his dark blue eyes, she waited, hoping he would suggest staying at home. When he didn’t, she said prosaically, ‘If we’re going on the subway, I’d better get a coat.’

He shook his head. ‘You won’t need one. It’s a hot night, and all this finery calls for a taxi.’

When they reached the Plaza Hotel, off Fifth Avenue, the party was in full swing. People were standing in groups sipping champagne while they laughed and talked, and the air was filled with the scent of French perfume and the sweet smell of success.

Glancing around the large, handsome room at the assembled company, Sera saw that nearly all the women were dressed in top designer clothes and displaying enough precious stones to fill Aladdin’s cave. While the men, along with their immaculate evening clothes, wore that unmistakable air of confidence and authority that wealth brings.

Though knowing herself to be underdressed, with her off-the-peg sheath and simple chain, Sera held her head high. While Keir was by her side, she was well content.

She might be out of place in this glittering throng, but he certainly wasn’t.

He was a man who could, without effort, establish moral ascendancy over his peers, easily holding his own amongst the rich and powerful, and several covert glances told her that a lot of the women there envied her of her escort.

She found herself wishing that she could have fitted in better for his sake; she didn’t want him to feel ashamed of her.

As though guessing her feelings, he tucked her hand through his arm and, with calm assurance, led her over to their host and hostess.

Cheryl, her red-gold hair like a shining helmet, was wearing a dramatic dress of shimmering jade green. She had all the striking gauntness of a model, and there were diamonds around her neck and in her ears.

Her brother, looking relaxed and debonair, was impressive in immaculate evening clothes.