‘Just a minute,’ she said, breathless, giddy, euphoric, but still determined. ‘You need to say it too.’
‘Say what?’ His brows arched, but she could see the mischievous twinkle she’d missed so much.
They had survived the pain, now the only thing to do was indulge in the pleasure... And start building a new life, where there was trust, and compassion and openness... And hope.
‘Say you love me,’ she said.
‘I don’t just love you. I adore you,’ he said, pressing his face into her cleavage and making her nipples tighten.
‘And promise me you’re going to fix things with your family and tell them everything.’
He glanced up, narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded. ‘Okay, if you insist.’
‘I do,’ she said, the power intoxicating.
‘Anything else?’ he asked, marching down the hallway towards the bedroom.
‘Yes,’ she said, laughing as he chucked her into the middle of the bed and stripped off his shirt. ‘Promise me that you’re going to devote the rest of your life to giving me unlimited orgasms whenever I request them.’
‘Done!’ He kicked off his shoes and ripped open his flies. ‘Now get naked, Eleanor,’ he added as he tugged off his trousers and boxer shorts and the strident erection leapt free. ‘Before I tear off all your clothing.’
Then he pounced on her, to start making good on all his promises.
EPILOGUE
New Year’s Eve
Dear Mr Costa,
As per our phone conversation and my previous email, here is an interim report on my investigation so far into the Eloise Fraser/Eleanor MacGregor disappearance.
The birth certificate Ms Fraser has in her possession for an Eleanor Fitzgerald MacGregor born on June 20th, is not a forged document, as I originally assumed, but the actual birth register of a baby girl born to Ross and Susan MacGregor that summer.
I managed to track down the midwife, Catherine Wilson, who attended the birth in the remote forestry cottage where the couple were living at the time in Drummorag National Forest in the Highlands. Ms Wilson said it was a difficult birth and the child was born two weeks early.
I now suspect the child must have died suddenly that winter. After checking phone records and the weather reports in the region around the time of the Fraser car accident, it seems the couple were essentially snowbound and unable to contact anyone for a week prior to the crash.
With the help of the local forestry commission, I discovered a small grave in a glade approximately a quarter of a mile from the MacGregor cottage, marked by a home-made cross with the name Ellie, a heart, and a date three days before the accident inscribed on it. Apparently, the forester had always assumed it was for a pet of some description.
I now surmise the couple might well have been travelling to Inverness to report the death of their daughter when they came across the wreck and took the Fraser baby—i.e. Ms Eloise Joan Fraser—from the site of the accident. They relocated soon afterwards to the remote island of Moira in the Outer Hebrides, thus avoiding scrutiny from the extensive police investigation that ensued the following year.
If you would like to have the grave in the Drummorag Forest exhumed, to check the remains are those of the MacGregor child, ascertain the cause of death, etc., I can go about getting the necessary permissions from the local authorities involved.
I have sent the findings of my investigation so far to the local constabulary.
Regards,
lan McKenzie, PI
Ellie sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek as she folded the written report from the private detective Alex had hired in Scotland and placed it carefully on the desk in Alex’s study.
‘I canny believe he found all that out so quickly,’ she said, her heart throbbing in her chest, her breath hitching.
No wonder Ross and Susan had always referred to her as their miracle baby. They must have been grief-stricken and traumatised, unable to get help for their child that winter, then forced to bury it alone. And then they’d found her on that bleak empty stretch of road, and probably saved her life. She was sure from Alex’s conversations with Roman about what he remembered about the crash that they must not have seen Roman, or realised he was alive, or they would surely have helped him.
‘I guess it’s easier when you know where to look,’ Alex murmured, his arms banding around her from behind. He tugged her gently into his body, enveloping her in his strength, and his unconditional support. She held onto him, the love she felt for him in that moment overwhelming.
Alex accepted her for who she really was. He loved her for her weaknesses as well as her strengths. In fact, he saw her flaws and thought theywereher strengths. He understood her, in a way Ross and Susan MacGregor had never truly been able to, because they’d convinced themselves she was someone she wasn’t... The baby girl they’d lost.