Dear Reader, Thanks to all those of you who read the first five chapters of this story, and have waited patiently for the end. I hope you think it has been worth the wait.
*****
The concert that day was thrilling to Karen, who had never heard so much African music all at once, and who found the blends of rhythms and sounds delightfully exotic. She forgot where she was and simply basked in the music. When it was over, she could still feel the drumbeats in her hands, as though she had played them, and she could hear the bass voices blending with the others in perfect harmony ringing through her ears and resounding in the spaces around her.
"That was brilliant!" she enthused, as Peter walked her to a local eatery for dinner. The food was plain fare, but delicious, and perhaps it was a suitable counterpoint to the richness of the music she had just enjoyed. And she basked in the warmth of her lover's regard, seeing in his eyes when they rested on her a depth of feeling and hunger that she had never expected ever to see in a man's eyes for her, though she had hoped.
"I had a really lovely day, Peter!" she enthused as they shared a decadent double-sized banana split. "Thank you for inviting me."
His smile warmed every corner of her being. and his words only enhanced the feeling. "You're welcome, liefje! I did, too. I don't think I have ever enjoyed a concert as much in a very long time." He reached for her hand as he spoke, squeezing her fingers gently. "Would you like to stay one more night, and hear the rest tomorrow?"
"Sure, if it's all right with you," she replied, "but what about Scrooge?"
"It's no problem to ask Elke to watch him one extra night for me. I'll do it now."
She listened idly as he made the arrangements, and as it occurred to her to wonder where they would sleep for the extra night, he said, "I made a reservation for two nights, on the off chance that you might like to stay."
She chuckled, amused at the sly look on his face as he spoke. "I'll decide later whether to be concerned that you have a sneaky side or not," she announced, trying to sound severe and failing.
His laughter filled the space between them, low and surprisingly sexy. He was like a man half his years, and she felt a powerful surge of pride that she had been the one, after all this time, to bring his heart back to life. She loved the way he spoke, the way he pronounced English words, the way he called her "darling" in his language, the way he touched her with fire and reverence. She wondered how she had managed to become so connected to him after only a few months, most of them spent with him online or on the phone.
"A penny for your thoughts?" His voice interrupted her musings, and she smiled again, suddenly deliriously happy.
"I was thinking about you," she said, blushing faintly.
"And what, in particular, were you thinking?" he wanted to know.
She hesitated a breath, then answered his curiosity. "I was thinking how I like your accent and the way you pronounce English words." Better some truth than a lie, she thought.
"And here I was hoping you might perhaps be thinking of what we shared last night, and again this morning, and hoping we could share it again."
The faint pink in her cheeks bloomed under the suggestive sultriness of his words, and the look she caught in his eyes before he turned to summon a waiter. A fine trembling began in her fingers, and she clasped her hands together in her lap to stop the movement. She could not remember ever having been so thoroughly seduced before this man and this moment. She watched him pay for their meal and took the hand he held out to her as they walked out into the evening air. They drove sedately to the small bed and breakfast he had booked their room in, though she knew he was feeling the urgency of their shared desire beating against him as it was against her.
The room, at any other time, would have elicited delighted commentary from her, but she was past noticing anything other than the man whose arms wrapped her in heat and hunger, whose tongue demanded and received entry into her desirous mouth, whose leg pushed between her own, and settled her core over its rock hardness, allowing her to set herself aflame as he helped her ride his thigh. The vivid blue curtains that twinkled with a firmament of silk escaped her gaze; the jeweled beauty of the matching bed coverings onto which he lowered her disappeared beneath the weight of his heated gaze. The warm yellow lamplight that he had dimmed was nothing to the blazing light of love and lust that illuminated the space between her eyes and his.
"I cannot begin to explain to you how very deeply you affect me, liefje. The last time I felt this out of control around a woman, I was barely out of my teens." His whispered words sank into her soul, into her very bones, as he kissed her again, and finished what he began with those first kisses by the door.
Afterwards, as they lay panting in each other's arms, Karen wondered where their new relationship would end up. Neither of them had spoken of anything beyond their feelings for each other. And she was old enough, and cynical enough, to know that just because he wanted her body, and couldn't seem to get enough of it, it didn't mean he wanted a firmer commitment to her. He had been married once, and by all accounts it had not been a happy marriage at the end. She wasn't sure she could blame him if he chose not to pursue anything further with her. She knew it would hurt her to have given her heart to someone who didn't want more, but she would not press him, or even let a hint of her feelings show. She would let him decide on his own.
She fell asleep in his arms, and when morning brightened the room in the blue glow of the curtains, she woke to find herself alone in bed. Peter was standing by the bathroom door, speaking softly into his cell phone. She wondered who had called so early, but when she looked at her own device, it showed that she had been asleep for almost nine hours. She sat up and stretched as he finished his call and walked back to the bed.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, smiling warmly at her.
"Yes, I did," she replied. "And for far longer than usual. It's almost eight o'clock."
She watched him look up in surprise, and she explained. "I don't normally get as much as six hours of sleep a night. I just can't seem to stay in bed long enough. My body starts to hurt, and the muscles feel strained and I have to get up. So nine hours is a very long time!"
