The Purest of Diamonds(80)

                They slept wrapped in each other’s arms. Their discussion did not continue, as Leila had insisted it must do, straight after lovemaking—not that night, nor the next morning, or the next.

                They lived the dream—the dream for both of them. Closeness without complications—without thought for the future. They were pushing difficult decisions aside, like where to live, and how to combine their two very different lives. They were together and that was all that mattered. They were getting to know each other better too. They were growing closer because of the sex, whereas in the past, sex had been an end in itself.

                They padded around barefoot—sometimes even naked. Leila would cook something on the stove while he stood behind her with his hands loosely linked around her belly. Her calm essence healed him, while the food she cooked fuelled their lust. They took meals to bed—left others forgotten to grow cold as they feasted on each other.

                He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever been so happy, or so relaxed. And he couldn’t bear to let this go. He couldn’t envisage a time without Leila. He wasn’t prepared to contemplate a future without her. But this timeless idyll had to end. They both knew it. He still had business commitments to fit in before everything closed down for Christmas, while Leila had insisted on working until the very last minute, and so, with less than a week to go before Christmas Day, he dropped her off at the mining museum on his way to the airport.

                ‘We’ll talk when I get back from New York. There’s plenty of time,’ he said confidently. ‘The babies aren’t due yet, so—’

                ‘Plenty of time,’ Leila confirmed, standing on tiptoe to kiss him goodbye.

                If this past week of indulging themselves had achieved anything, it was to establish a new level of trust between them. They could do this. They were both strong individuals who could handle a long-distance relationship, and they would make sure their children didn’t suffer because of it.

                At least that was how he felt until he woke up one morning in an anonymous hotel somewhere in the world to find it was snowing, which reminded him of Skavanga. He could have been anywhere in the world. A luxury hotel was a luxury hotel and when he was away from Leila everywhere looked the same to him. He found himself longing for a small wood cabin on the shores of a lake, and a woman who for him had no equal. His meetings were over and all he could think about was Leila facing the run-up to their twins’ birth on her own. It didn’t have to be this way—for either of them.

                He’d never had so much fun shopping. He’d never had fun shopping. It wasn’t the type of thing he did, but today was different, and wherever he went his happiness was infectious. He had discounts pushed on him, encouraging him to buy ten times more than he had intended. He got back to the hotel, filed a flight plan for Skavanga and was airborne by late afternoon. He rented a Jeep at the airport and drove out to the cabin. He hadn’t called Leila. He hadn’t warned her he was coming back. The feelings inside him didn’t allow for half measures. This was either the biggest surprise she’d ever had or it was a dud.

                She heard the engine and was hanging out of an upstairs window when he arrived. ‘Raffa?’ She sounded ecstatic. ‘What are you doing?’

                ‘Visiting a friend,’ he called up, holding his feelings of elation on the shortest rein. ‘I hope that friend hasn’t been up a stepladder, decorating?’ He tried and failed to adopt a stern tone. He was just so excited to see her—to hold her—to kiss her again.

                ‘Your friend’s been getting the nursery ready. What do you think?’ She glanced over her shoulder, where he could see a set of ladders with tins of paint jostling for position on the top step.

                ‘I think I’ll have to paddle her backside, if that’s what my friend’s been up to—’