Love...and Love Intensely Ch. 03

She’d run into James twice more after he’d left that last time, and both times he’d been on his way up, to see Kylie or Kyriane or whatever her name was. She’d had to endure listening to the bedsprings from upstairs creak and wonder if it had been James up there every time. Not even the loudest heavy metal music could drown out the creaking of those springs, and besides, people had started banging on her walls when she’d turned it up really loud.

Luc burst into the room, took one look at her dishevelled state and the ruins of an apartment around her, and immediately took her into his arms. “Poor Emma,” Luc murmured consolingly. “You’re not feeling well at all, are you?”

Emma shook her head piteously.

“Come on then. I’ll make you a cup of tea and something to eat, and you can tell me all about it.” He led the way into the kitchen and she followed.

One mug of hot tea and a sandwich later, Luc was holding her hand while she sobbed her heart out.

“That’s it,” he was murmuring consolingly. “Just let it all out.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Emma was hiccupping. “I’ve thought and thought and I just don’t know! I mean...I have a job, and some savings, but when the baby’s born I’ll have to quit it, and then what will I do? I can’t afford not to have a job!”

“Maybe you should talk to James,” Luc suggested gently.

“Are you kidding? He doesn’t want anything to do with me. What would he care about a baby? He cares nothing for me.”

“Doesn’t he?” Luc smiled. “I know he’s been storming around like a bear with a sore head for the last couple of weeks. And I know why.”

Emma’s chin jutted out defiantly. “And even if he wanted anything to do with me, I don’t want anything to do with him. He - he’s shagging the whore upstairs!”

Luc burst out laughing. “Shagging, Emma?” he queried with brows raised. “Shagging?”

“Well, he’s sleeping with her,” she amended. “He went straight from me to her!”

“Yes, but how do you know he’s sleeping with her? They might just be friends, or business acquaintances or some such thing.”

“Her apartment is directly above mine,” Emma replied dryly. “I can hear the bedsprings creak. What do you suppose they’re doing? Simply playing ‘jumping castle’?”

“I suppose not,” Luc said ruefully. “In any case, you can’t keep living like this. You’ve got to get yourself together, Emma, if only for the baby’s sake. Come on, I’ll take you out to dinner, and you can get drunk one last time, and then we’ll come back and sleep on the floor one last time before I get the crew in and clean up. Deal?”

“I don’t get drunk,” Emma informed him indignantly. “And I’ve never slept on the floor in my life! Besides, won’t your wife object if you spend the night with me?”

“Well, might as well get it out of your system,” Luc replied pragmatically. “Better now than when the baby really starts to show. And my wife’s not my wife anymore. She did a runner on our honeymoon. By the way, have you been eating? You seem to be gaining weight.”

“Wonderful, Luc,” Emma said with mock sarcasm. “Thanks for telling me I’m getting fat. That’s sure to cheer me up.”

Luc shrugged. “Go freshen up, eh? Then we’ll go.”

* * *

They spent the night at a cheap bistro where she could eat as much as she want and drink as much as she want, without getting noticed, with the result that by the time Luc got round to taking her home she could barely stand without leaning on something.

They staggered into the elevator together, Emma laughing hysterically at something he’d said. “You know, Luc,” she giggled, her hand stroking her stomach. “I think I’ll survive after all.” The elevator doors opened. “I might actually look forward to having this baby.”

Emma stopped dead in her tracks, leaning heavily on Luc. Luc’s eyes widened and he said in a slightly singsong voice, “Uh-oh.”

“Hello, Emma,” said James, with a dangerous smile. “Did you enjoy yourself, children?”

“Goodbye, love,” Luc said with a hiccup. “Afraid you’ll have to sleep on the floor by yourself tonight. I’m not up to getting beat to a pulp. Not even for you.” So saying, he gave her a little push and she stumbled toward James, then lurched back into the elevator. The doors closed with a ping.

James caught her before she could bang into the wall. “Whoops,” she said cheerfully, leaning against him. “Must find the keys!”

“Give me your bag,” James said impatiently, then rifled through it quickly. He couldn’t seem to find the damn things. “Where are they?”

“Hmm,” Emma said thoughtfully. “Must be in my pocket somewhere.” She struggled, clumsily, to dig into the pockets of the tight fitting jeans to no avail.

“Here,” said James, exasperated. “Lean on me. Both hands.” She did as ordered, then stood stock still, shocked, as she felt his hands sliding into her front pockets. “Not here,” he announced grimly. “Turn a bit.” He slid his hands into her back pockets. She gave a little gasp, feeling his fingers curl and scoop out the keys. He didn’t seem to notice as he efficiently inserted the key into the lock and turned the doorknob.

Emma had sobered up by now, realising, perhaps, the seriousness of the situation. He knew - or at least, he knew that she was pregnant. He didn’t know by whom.

James flicked the switch and the kitchen lit up. He gazed, vaguely disgusted, at the mess of the kitchen. Dishes cluttered up the sink, the bench top. There was an opened, but untouched, bottle of wine on the table. “Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair for her. Emma sat.

“Now,” said James, remaining on his feet and looking down at him. “Care to tell me just what the hell Luc was doing here?”

Emma shrugged. “That’s none of your business,” she said, struggling to sound cool and composed.

“It damn well is my business!” James raged. “He was here, with you. That makes it my business!”

She looked away. “I don’t see how.”

“When someone is running around with what belongs to me behind my back,” James said coldly, “I generally make it my business.”

She glowered. “What do you care? Its not as though I mean anything to you.”

“You mean everything to me!” James shouted. “That’s the damn point!” His tone softened. “And what about the baby, Emma? When were you going to tell me, Em?”

“I don’t see why I should have.”

His eyes widened, and she thought there was just the tiniest hint of pain in them. “You don’t think I had a right to know about my own child?”

“It’s not as though you wanted it, or as if you cared.” Quickly she realised her mistake and amended, “It’s not as though its yours.”

His lip curled. “Nice try, sweetheart. Jordan’s told me everything. There’s no point denying it. The baby is mine. You’re mine.”

She looked up at him at last, her eyes flashing. “I don’t belong to anybody!”

“You belong to me, Emma. You carry my child within you. You’ve been mine the moment I laid eyes on you. Do you know how it killed me, having to pretend for those entire months while you believed you were Kit’s fiance? How, during the nights you’d lie in my arms and yet in the days would not look twice at me? Your eyes were all for Kit, and he didn’t even know you were alive, half the time! And then those months that I waited, waited for you to recover and finally move on, so I, at last, could court you. I’ve waited, Emma. I’ve waited for longer than you could imagine. And now I’m tired of waiting.”

Her lips parted, her eyes bewildered.

“I’m not going to force you. I’ve had enough of that. I’ve had enough of the uncertainty, the constant terror that you’re going to just disappear. Choose, Emma. Choose. I can go, or I can stay. Which is it to be?”

She shook her head, numbly.

“I love you, Emma.”

Emma stared at him. “But - but you said - it was just sex. And what about Kylie?” Her voice hardened. “Or Kyriane. Whatever her name is from upstairs with the noisy bed.”

James smiled. “Jealous, darling?” he taunted softly.

She looked away. “No,” she denied.

He bent down to cup her face in her hands. “Liar.”

Emma scowled. “What were you doing with her anyway?”

He grinned. “You won’t believe this - but she’s my cousin. Actually, she made me sit in the living room while she serviced her boyfriends. It made for bloody awkward conversation, I can tell you.”

“What?” Emma was astonished. “You’re related to Kylie the Sex Kitten? And here I was, thinking the Brandeworths were all high and mighty posh types...”

“Good lord!” James laughed out loud. “Is that what you call her? By the way, she’s related to me on my mother’s side. Not a Brandeworth, you see!”

“Its what everyone calls her. She’s famous in this building.”

“Hmm. I daresay Uncle George isn’t going to be pleased about that. He never has been, about her chosen profession. But never mind. Well? What’s your answer?”

“I love you.” Her eyes widened. The words had slipped from her lips, involuntarily. She groaned, closed her eyes for a moment then leapt to her feet and ran for the bedroom, intending to lock herself in. Startled, James remained frozen for a moment, then bounded after her. He wedged his foot into the crack just before the door slammed. He winced when the door banged into his foot. Pushing slowly, but inextricably, he managed to open to door wide enough to get inside. He grabbed both her arms, and held her against the wall. “What did you say?” James demanded.

Emma flushed. “I – You – you heard.”

“Say it, Emma.”

“I love you.”

James groaned, buried his face in her throat. “God, I thought I'd never hear you say those sweet words again. I was so stupid, sweetheart, forgive me…Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Do you belong to me? As I belong to you?”

“James…I love you. I’m yours. No matter what happens, I will always be yours, even if you don’t love me anymore.”

He shouted out exultantly. “And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you, sweetheart. And I’ll never stop belonging to you, either. And are you going to marry me? And have my child? And many more as well?”

She smiled shyly. “Do you really love me, James?”

“Little idiot,” he kissed her, and she suddenly found herself with a mouthful of tongue. “As if anyone could not.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

“Good,” James said, satisfaction emanating from every part of his body. His eyes gleamed with a fierce possessiveness. “Now kiss me.”

“Ok.” She brushed her mouth against his.

“Not like that,” he murmured against her lips. “Like this.” And then he was kissing her, hard, fiercely, with an unrestrained joy and a hungry, savage possessiveness. He picked her up, hefting her over his shoulder rather like the proverbial caveman claiming his woman.

Emma did not mind. In fact, she quite found that she thoroughly enjoyed being loved...and loved intensely.

The End.