Masters And Lovers 1-4

Chapter 18

Slinging one towel around my hips, another in my hand, I head back into the bedroom. They’re together

between the sheets, naked, sheened with sweat, silent.

He lies with his head pillowed on her breasts, stroking her belly.

Her eyes follow me in. “Thought I was going to wash your back?”

I scrub the towel into my wet hair. “From the sound of things, you were otherwise engaged.”

She flashes teeth, then wriggles out from under James. “Just have to do my own then.” And she too

heads for the shower.

James sits up and I toss him a robe. “Michael,” he begins, “I know I’ve already said it, but thank you.

There aren't many men who would have done what you did. Ensuring that I would be the father of her

first. I’d always assumed it would be a lottery between us.” He shakes his head, rubbing a palm over

the back of his skull. “I still can’t believe I didn’t notice what you were up to, the pair of you.”

My voice wry, “It's not as though there aren’t other options. Mouth, ass, face, tits. She was happy so

long as it was you inside her.”

I take the armchair, leaning forward on my elbows. “And let’s not forget, there's not many men would

have done what you did. First, share her, then give her to me.” I hover, trying to find the right words.

“Let's forget what men usually do. Let's remember instead what friends do for each other.”

*****

The Present - Klempner

There’s a tap on my door. “Mr Klempner? May I have a word?”

I drop my book again. “Of course, Sutcliffe. What is it?” NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

Sutcliffe twists back, glancing left and right along the walkway. “I thought I should tell you… Mr

Hartwell, he’s objecting to your move. He’s trying to stop it.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Sutcliffe. That’s my problem, not yours. He’ll not succeed at more than delaying

matters. You just keep relaying any news.”

“I’ll do that, sir.” He turns to leave.

“Sutcliffe…”

“Sir?”

“I’ll not forget this.”

He touches his cap. “Thank you, sir.”

*****

James

My sun is shining. My skies are blue. My Jade-Eyes, my beautiful Jade-Eyes, has chosen to have my

child. And my closest friend conspired to help her.

Could life be any better?

And as I look out of the window, I find the sun and blue skies are not only inside my head.

What to do with the day?

A walk? The beach? Take her to a bookshop?

In search of my Jade, I head for her room. And she’s there. “Charlotte, I…”

She spins, turning her face from me.

“Charlotte?”

What’s wrong?

Is she crying?

“Charlotte?” She remains turned away, but her shoulders are shaking, a tremble running through her

body.

Yes, she’s crying…

“Charlotte, look at me. What’s the matter?”

Still she doesn’t turn. I stride over, pull her close, hold her tight. Her face buried against my chest, I

stroke her hair while a storm of sobbing subsides.

Mood swings?

Flooded with hormones?

Or something real?

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m being silly, I know, but it just burst out suddenly.”

I muss her hair. “Want to talk about it?” I say. I tilt her head up, make her look at me, blotchy-faced and

swollen-eyed as she is. “Whatever it is…” Then I delve for a handkerchief, pushing it into her hand.

“Thank you.” She blows, blows again, offers me the soggy handkerchief back then thinks better of it,

clutching it in one hand like an anchor.

I sit, perching on the wide windowsill, then hold out a hand, pulling her down beside me.

“Out with it,” I say.

She stammers and stutters, her voice breaking up. “I… I have so much; you, Michael, my mother. And

now the baby’s coming. I thought it would be enough. But…”

“But?”

“I… I never had a real father. The one I thought was my father, wasn't. And he didn't want to be. He

didn’t want me. He didn’t want to know me. He hated me. And the one who was my father, is my father,

is a monster.”

Crap…

How to handle this…?

“Yes, Klempner is a monster. There’s no avoiding that. But he’s not a complete monster. I think it’s

worth remembering that, whatever else is said about him, it appears he genuinely loved your mother.

Loves your mother. And your conception, accidental as it might have been, was an act of love, not of

violence. Even your mother agrees with that. Whatever happened between them, however you were…

created… it may well have been the best your father had ever been. The best thing he ever did.”

She sniffles, dabs at her nose. But her voice grows calmer. “I’d not looked at it like that.”

“I think you should. Now, why don’t you go turn on the hot tub. I’m going to find Michael. Get in and

we’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

She swallows, nods, then rubbing at her eyes, leaves the room.

I follow her out and almost walk into Michael, determinedly following in her direction. My palm on his

chest, “Take it easy.”

“Why’s she crying?” he demands, cocking his head after her.

“Calm down. It’s not me that’s upset her. It’s the business with Conners and Klempner.” He cocks his

head. “Neither was a real father…”

He settles. “Ah… Yes, if she’s thinking that way…” He tugs on an ear. “Not sure what we can do about

it.”

“I think she’d handle it normally, but she’s zipped on hormones. She could be in for a rough ride with

her pregnancy.”

“So we’ll ride it with her.”

I slap him on the shoulder. “Good man. Tell me, how much experience do you have with pregnant

women?”

“You might be surprised. All my aunts and cousins. There was always someone up the duff. I know

what to expect.”

“And you might be surprised at how different it feels when it’s yours.”

He pulls a face. “So I'm realising. So what do we do?”

I jerk a thumb in Charlotte’s direction. “Come with me. For a start, you have a back massage to deliver.”

He brightens. “No problem.”

*****