The Perfect Husband (22 page)

Bending down, she put her arms around her
babies and hugged them close. “I’m fine, darlings. I’m fine.
Daddy’s gone. He’s not going to hurt anyone again. We’re going to
be all right, I promise you.”

She refused to believe otherwise.

Dear Diary,

I once heard a work colleague say the most
dangerous time for an abused woman is when they find the courage to
leave. It is then that they are at their most vulnerable. It didn’t
mean anything to me at the time. I was living a hellish existence,
but my sense of self was so depleted, I didn’t recognize myself as
being that kind of woman. Besides, back then, I couldn’t imagine
ever being free.

But now I am—I’m free. I wish I could tell
you I feel better, lighter, freer, but he’ll never let me go. I
know this with as much certainty as I know the color of my
hair.

It’s bright red, by the way. Hot and fiery
and passionate. A woman who could never be subdued. That’s what
people think. If only they knew…

I’m none of these things. I’m a woman who
isn’t strong and assertive. I measure my worth through sheer hard
work and the results of my labors. When those are flawed, then I
am, too.

My husband knows this about me, knows my
weakness and he does all he can to exploit it. The beds are never
made well enough, the dinner is too cold; the dishes aren’t clean
enough, the children are out of control…

There’s always something to criticize and it
has eroded my confidence and any feelings I once had of self-worth.
And now I am free… It’s funny, I don’t feel free. I feel like a
woman who’s running for her life with no clear destination in mind.
Any moment, he’ll catch up to me and I’ll be back where I
started.

Once again, I’ll be consumed by the darkness
and this time, I won’t be strong enough to resist. I’ll let it
swallow me whole…

* * *

“How could you have answered the door? You
let him in! He could have killed all of you!” shouted Mason, his
temper getting the better of him.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

Isobel’s quiet request and the sight of her
frightened face penetrated the anger, frustration and helplessness
that had assaulted him the moment he’d arrived home and learned
about Nigel’s attack. He sucked a deep breath into his lungs and
willed himself to calm down. Yelling at the victim wasn’t fair and
doing it to someone who’d gone through as much trauma as she had…
What the hell was he thinking?

“I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t mean to yell.”
He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
She tensed and resisted his attempts to offer comfort and he
immediately released her.

She looked at him, her eyes shadowed with
hurt. “I told you. I’m fine. Two of your neighbors very kindly
helped me out. They made him leave.” She shuddered.

“Did anyone call the police?”

“No, I told them not to. He was gone by then
and…I wanted to wait for you to get home so we could go to the
police station together.”

He gritted his teeth in frustration and
tried hard to hold on to his patience. “Belle, if the police had
been called right away, they might have even found him in the
vicinity. They could have arrested him on the spot for breaching
the AVO.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started
dialing.

She crossed her arms defensively over her
chest and a mutinous expression filled her eyes. “You can’t keep
saving me, Mason. I need to stand up and fight this battle on my
own. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my children,
but I have to prove to myself that I can do this.”

Mason clenched his jaw so tightly he was
sure the bones would break. She just didn’t get it. He ended the
call and blew out his breath on a heavy sigh. “Belle, you don’t
have to prove anything and you sure as hell don’t need to do this
on your own. Nobody deals with the kind of crap you’ve been through
on their own. And why would you want to? It doesn’t have to be so
difficult! I want to help you! I want to be there for you! I… I
love
you!”

He threw his arms out wide as he said it and
all the exasperation and pent-up anger and fear over what had
happened to her boiled over into those words. He stared at her, his
chest heaving.

Isobel looked stricken. She buried her face
in her hands and her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs.
Overwhelming hurt and disappointment held him frozen to the spot.
He’d just declared his love for her—a second time—and she was
sobbing like he’d broken her heart.

She lifted her head and already her eyes
were red and swollen with tears. The sight tore at his gut. He
wanted to go to her and reassure her, promise her everything would
be all right, but he couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t deserve your love, Mason,” she
hiccupped through her sobs. “You’re wasting it on me. I’m unworthy,
broken beyond repair. Can’t you
see
?”

He shook his head slowly. “No, Belle, I
can’t. What I see is a beautiful, courageous woman who’s been brave
enough to leave a violent and hellish life—for herself and for her
children. Somewhere deep inside you, you know you deserve better
and you know your kids do, too.”

He drew closer as he spoke to her, hoping
against hope to convince her. “Nobody can imagine how hard it must
have been for you to take that step, but guess what? You
did
it! You found the courage, determination, sheer
guts
to pack
up and walk out on a man who made you fear for your life—who
still
makes you fear for your life. And you’re right to feel
that way. He’s utterly and totally insane.”

He reached out and tenderly cupped her
cheek. She stared at him, her eyes wide, but this time she didn’t
move away. “It’s not your fault he’s the way he is. It’s never been
your fault. Stop beating yourself up about it. If you let him
destroy you like this, he’ll have won! Don’t give him that power,”
he implored her, desperate to get through to her. “Seek out the
woman you were not so long ago and embrace her, give her permission
to breathe again, to laugh and sing and dance in the rain. To
live
.”

The air between them was charged. His face
was inches from hers. Her breath came in short, sharp pants, but
her gaze remained locked on his. He lowered his gaze and stared at
her mouth, her lips slightly parted. Need to claim her surged
through him, hot and hard and fast and left him breathless.

Slowly, he inched toward her until his lips
grazed hers. It was only the slightest of touches, but it was
electrifying. His hands came around to frame her face and all of a
sudden, he couldn’t get close enough. It seemed like she felt the
same way.

They came together in fierce desperation,
their kiss went on forever, explosive in its passion. He didn’t
want it to end. Her arms came around his neck. She clung to him and
pressed her sweet curves against him. He crushed her against his
body and kissed her over and over again.

“The children…?” he muttered, fast getting
to the point where he couldn’t stop.

She pulled away, panting. “They’re at my
sister’s. I called her straight afterwards and asked her if they
could stay with her for the night. I needed to get them away from
here, from everything. I told Kat about Nigel, about the way things
have been for the past five years.

“She was shocked that she hadn’t seen it and
hurt that I hadn’t confided. She doesn’t understand I didn’t tell
anyone—how even now, I can barely bring myself to speak about it.”
Her voice cracked with emotion and tears glistened in her eyes.
Mason sighed again and dragged her back into his arms.

He’d call the police and report Nigel’s
breach, but not right now. Nigel was probably long gone. Besides,
they had the testimony of the two witnesses as well as Belle to
support what had happened. There were also security cameras at the
entrance to the building. It would show Nigel coming in and going
out. He hoped, together, the statements and evidence would be
enough to have the prick brought in.

Belle pressed herself against him and
threaded her arms around his neck. Knowing they had the night alone
was almost more than he could bear. His lips found hers once again
and this time, some of the urgency eased. Now that he knew they had
all the time in the world, he intended to savor every moment.

His lips trailed over her cheeks and nuzzled
her ears. His tongue swept over the whorls. He caught her sharp
intake of breath.

“Do you like that?” he murmured.

He felt her nod and smiled. He wanted so
much to please her. Moving lower, he kissed his way down her neck,
pushing her soft cotton T-shirt out of the way. His hands reached
up to cup her breasts and his thumbs stroked lazily over her
nipples. They hardened under his touch.

Dragging his head back to hers, she
subjected him to another mind-blowing kiss. He pressed himself
against her, needing so much to be close. He tugged at the bottom
of her T-shirt and sighed when it came loose from her shorts. The
feel of her silky, warm skin beneath his fingers was heaven. She
arched into him and he slid his hand up higher, caressing her.
Suddenly, he needed to feel her naked against him, pressed together
from head to toe.

He swept her up in his arms. She let out a
little gasp. He caught it in his mouth. With purposeful strides he
walked down the hallway. Lowering her gently to his king-sized bed,
he quickly followed her down. Impatient, he pulled her T-shirt over
her head.

He made short work of her bra and then
started on her shorts. She lifted her hips and he shimmied them
down her hips. Naked but for a scrap of white lace that only just
covered her womanhood, he pushed back on his haunches and took a
few moments to simply take in the beauty and perfection that was
Isobel West.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, feeling
in awe of the woman spread before him. When he thought of all that
she’d been through, he was blown away by her fortitude. The fact
that she’d managed to escape that horror was a testament to her
resilience and inner strength. All he had to do was make her
believe it.

Tugging at his tie, he pulled it loose and
threw it on the floor. For a moment, the buttons on his shirt
stalled him, but soon it, too, joined the growing pile of discarded
clothes. Belle reached up and splayed her hands over the taut
muscles of his chest and he gasped.

Heat ignited across his skin, wherever her
fingers touched. His heart beat double time. Slowly, she moved her
hand over his chest. Exploring, curious, her fingernails grazed his
nipples. He did his best to stay still until she’d had her fill,
but it was a torturous effort. All he wanted was to hold her and
kiss her and love her for the rest of his life.

“I love the way you feel,” she
whispered.

His gaze locked on hers. All the love and
desire he’d held inside him came rushing to the fore. He tore off
his trousers and underwear and slid her thong down her legs. A
moment later, they were skin to skin as he lay there, fully on top
of her. He sighed in relief.

Drawing in a lungful of air, he breathed in
her unique scent. The smell of her hair, her skin, her
essence.
It was like no other and he loved it. He loved
every part of her. He could barely remember a time when he
hadn’t.

Slowly, he moved his head and kissed her,
softly, tenderly, teasing her with his tongue. His cock lay thick
and hard between them, throbbing with desire. But he was determined
to take this slowly, one kiss, one touch at a time. He wanted to
drive her so wild with need that she’d forget everything but
him.

He kissed her eyes, her mouth, her nose and
then once again found the sensitive spot near her ears. She groaned
and moved restlessly beneath him, but he refused to be hurried.

“Relax. Enjoy. Tonight is all about you. I
want you to know how special you are, how beautiful, how brave, how
unique. Let me love you the way I want to, Belle. Let me give this
gift to you.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with hope,
yet he saw a shadow of uncertainty. He could tell she didn’t know
whether to go with it or not, whether she could trust him not to
let her fall. A fresh wave of determination surged through him and
he vowed silently to do whatever it took. One way or the other, and
over as much time as was needed, he’d convince her his love was
real and nothing was ever going to change it.

He shifted his weight until most of it was
on his knees and then leaned over to suckle one nipple. The hard
nub was pink and sweet and tasted like heaven. He turned his
attention to her other breast and gave it the same kind of
attention.

His hand kneaded the soft skin of her thigh
while his mouth continued its exquisite torture. Small sounds of
pleasure escaped from her throat and once again, she stirred
beneath him.

“Please, Mason,” she gasped.

“Not yet,” he murmured and moved his lips
lower across her belly. He kissed the taut planes of her stomach
and dipped his tongue into the indentation made by her belly
button. Easing himself further away, he nuzzled his way lower.
Burying his face in the warmth between her legs, he lapped at her
sweet, soft lips.

She gave a half-hearted protest, but he paid
it no heed. With his lips and his tongue, he stroked her until she
was a whimpering ball of need. With his fingers, he parted her soft
folds and she surged upwards against his hand. Slowly, he eased two
fingers inside her and moved them in and out.

Once again, her hips came off the bed and
her hand came down to cover his. Pressing herself against him, she
tried to increase the rhythm and pressure.

“Take it easy, honey. We have all night.
There’s no need to rush.”