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!"
He reached over and bussed her gently on the lips. "Well, I'm glad you were able to catch up on some sleep, then, love." He stood again, and said, over his shoulder, "Shall I order breakfast in bed for you?"
Karen chuckled. "No, of course not! I'd rather we eat out and then go back to listen to some more of that lovely music!"
"It'll be different artists today, and the concerts end in the early afternoon."
"Let's hurry then, shall we?" She hopped out of bed, and only once her feet touched the carpet did she remember she was naked, never having had a chance to put on the pretty nightie she had packed for the trip. It was too late to be modest now, but she could not stop the suffusion of color that warmed her skin all over as she walked past him to the bathroom. Once inside, behind the closed door, she exhaled and wondered when she would get over being embarrassed to be naked with him. They had only been lovers for two days, after all, and this would take some getting used to.
A hot shower behind her, she wrapped herself in a towel and returned to the bedroom to find Peter sitting in an armchair, obviously waiting his turn. He put down the magazine he was thumbing through when she announced "All yours!" and rose to have his own shower. She hoped there would be enough hot water for him. By the time he came out, drying his hair with another towel, brown slacks riding low on his hips where they settled, zipped up half way, she was putting on light makeup. Her eyes caught the trail of hair, some silver, that snaked down inside his pants, and she dragged them away before she got entangled in thoughts of what they had shared for the last two days. She didn't want to make more of it than he did, though she did see him go hard, as though he felt her eyes on him.
She turned back to apply mascara, but finding her hand was trembling a bit too much, she decided to go back to powdering her cheeks until her nerves were steady enough. Eventually, she felt presentable and turned to find him right behind her, his button-down shirt tucked into his pants, his belt buckled, the signs of a waning erection still evident behind his zipper. She raised her eyes to his face, and saw the hunger he did not try to hide from her shooting from the depths of his own, but before she could utter a word, he was on her, his mouth consuming hers, his hands kneading the muscles of her shoulders, before sliding in a tenacious grip down her arms to her back, thence to her bottom, where he massaged her as he pulled her in to his body.
"Are you hungry?" he wanted to know, his voice low and rusty. He nipped her earlobe as he waited for her to respond.
Karen cleared her throat, which was suddenly clogged, but even then could only manage a weak, "Yes," hoping he would think she meant for food, and not for the thrust of his body inside her own.
"So am I, meisje," he said, licking the pulse that beat in her throat, trailing his lips up to the one that beat in her temple, and kissing her there, leaving her in no doubt as to the kind of hunger of which he spoke. "So am I." He suckled the vein there lightly, then raised his head and inhaled deeply. "But I can wait. Let's go have breakfast. The concert will begin at ten today."
He stepped away from her then, which gave her the room to move, and the time to recoup her lost composure and gather her scattered wits along with her pocketbook. He took her arm and escorted her from the room, out to a full breakfast in the large country kitchen of the house, before they went for a second day to listen to songs and stories, and enjoy the art work on display at the show. Before she knew it, the concert was over, and Peter was leading her away from the stall where she had purchased a wooden carving of lovers just about to kiss. She fancied she could feel the warm breath passing between their lips, and she smiled as she thought of where she could put it in a house, if she had one.
"What are you thinking?"
Peter's voice brought her sharply back to the moment, and to the sidewalk down which they were strolling.
"Just wondering where an item like the carving I bought could be placed in a house I might some day own," she answered. It struck her, as she said it, that he might think she was angling for some kind of statement from him, and as she knew that was not her intention, she hurried on, without letting him speak. "Anyway, Toni and Niall are in Amsterdam, and she asked if we could pop over for lunch with them." When he did not immediately respond, she added, "I know it's a long way from your home, so if you'd rather not, that's all right with me. I can see her when I get back to England."
