I pout, reaching for him, but my stomach growls again, louder.
Myles chuckles. “Come on,” he says, smacking me lightly on the backside. “Let’s shower and eat.”
“And then later?” I wriggle against him.
“Later, my irresistible vixen of a wife, I’ll make love to you until the stars come out, and then I’ll keep loving you. This is for ever, you know.”
I kiss him, long and soft. “I know.”
A short while later I’m standing on the terrace, my hair still damp, eating a pastry. I’m actually starving, despite my protests to Myles about getting up, my morning sickness replaced by ravenous hunger. Myles is in the kitchen putting together a meal of more pastries and fresh fruit, coffee already steaming in cups on the table. The breeze off the water is cool, and I wrap my scarf around my shoulders as I lean against the railing, breathing it in.
Cruising the Med with our closest friends had seemed like the perfect way to celebrate our marriage, but after just a few days they insisted we go on alone, simply because I was so unwell. When Myles had asked me where I wanted to go there was only one choice, as far as I was concerned.
The way his face lit up when I said it makes me think it was the only one for him, too.
We arrived last night, checking in late, tumbling into bed together and making love as the ocean roared outside. I smile as I take in the familiar view, the beach and the curving pathway, the bench where Myles and I first kissed.
We’re back at La Coeur, where it all began.
“Breakfast is served.” Myles comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He’s wearing a sweater, the wool soft against my skin. I lean back into his embrace, twisting to look up at him. His hands are warm on my stomach as he kisses me, and I’ve never known such bliss, never felt so safe.
He’s the home I’ve always searched for. And now that I’ve found him, I’ll never let him go again.
Myles
I still can’t believe my luck.
I wrap my arms around my wife, kissing her smooth hair as she gazes out to sea.
My wife.
When Zara walked towards me dressed in white lace, a small bouquet of roses in her hand, it was all I could do to hold myself together. She is everything to me; my partner, my lover, my best friend, the other half of my soul. I’d smiled at her bare feet on our wedding day, knowing why she’d chosen to do it.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over the thrill of being married to her, of making love to her, of the way she turns me on. But also the way she meets me all the way. My heart overflows with love for her, for the fact she’s carrying our child. I knew she would make me happy but I never dreamed it would be like this.
It’s early, mist partially obscuring the shoreline, cool damp in the air. No one seems to be around and it feels as though we’re the only people in the world. I revel in it, knowing she’s all I need to feel complete.
“We could go for a walk later,” I say, nibbling her ear. “If you’re up for it. There’s a nice bench down there, you know.”
What I really want to do is take her back to bed again, the soft curve of her backside pressing against me getting me hard once more. I’ve never wanted anyone so much, never loved anyone the way I love her.
“So I’ve heard,” she says, laughing. “I feel all right, actually. Honestly, Myles, I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t feel sick anymore?” I want to keep her safe from the world, from anything that might do her harm.
“A little, but I’m more hungry than anything.” She shivers, though, and I draw her with me back inside the warm apartment.
“Sit down.” I point at the table. “I have something to show you, anyway.”
“Oh really?” She raises her eyebrows but does as I ask, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. I bring the food in from the terrace and put it on the table, then grab my iPad.
“Oh Myles, you’re not working, are you?” She’s frowning as she tears apart another pastry. “You promised.”
“And I’ve kept my promise, my love. I just wanted to show you this. The proofs from South Africa are in.”
“Oh!” She squeals, dropping the pastry and reaching for the iPad. I give it to her, then come around the table to stand behind her, dropping a kiss on her shining hair.
On the tablet are digital proofs, images from a recent photo shoot in South Africa. It’s the first one Zara art-directed, as part of her new role on the Ocean’s Curl design team.
