Free Everything to Gain by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page A

into him, listening to his even breathing, thankful that it was normal again. During our hectic lovemaking he had started to pant, then gasp, and even after he had collapsed against me, his breathing had been extremely labored.
    Now I said quietly, "Your breathing was so strange, I was worried."
    "Why, darling?"
    "For a split second I thought you were having a heart attack."
    He laughed. "Don't be silly. I was very turned on, overexcited. I thought I was going to explode. If you want the truth, Mal, I couldn't seem to get enough of you tonight."
    "I'm glad of that," I murmured. "The feeling's mutual."
    "I'd rather gathered that." He kissed the top of my head. "Happy?"
    "Deliriously, ecstatically." I turned my face, buried it against his chest. "You're the very best."
    "I'd better be."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I don't want you looking elsewhere," he said in a teasing tone, laughing again.
    "Fat chance of that, Mr. Keswick!"
    He tightened his arms around me. "Oh, Mal, my beautiful wife, you're such a wonder, the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
    "You won't have to… I'll be with you all the days of our lives."
    "Thank God for that. Listen, do you think we made a baby tonight?"
    "I hope so." I craned my neck to look up at him, but his face was obscured in the murky light. Slipping out of his arms, I pushed myself up until my head was next to his on the pillows. I bent over him, took his face between my hands, and kissed him.
    When we finally drew apart, I said with a small smile, "But don't worry if we haven't. Think of all the fun we're going to have trying."
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    CHAPTER SEVEN
    « ^ »
    I knew immediately that my mother was going to pick a fight with me. I suppose that over the years I have acquired a second sense about her moods, and I recognized she was not in a very pleasant one this morning.
    Perhaps it was the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the way she held herself in general, so rigidly, with such tautness. In any case, her body language telegraphed that she was spoiling for a fight.
    I was determined not to react, not today, the Fourth of July. I wanted this to be a happy, carefree day; after all, it was our big summer celebration. Nothing was going to spoil it.
    She was so uptight when I greeted her on the doorstep that I had to steel myself as I kissed her on the cheek. She was not going to be easy to deal with; all of the signs were there.
    "I don't know why you have to have your barbecue so early," she complained as she came inside the house. "I had to get up at the crack of dawn to make it out here."
    "One o'clock is not so early, Mother," I said quietly, "and you didn't have to arrive at this hour." I glanced at my watch. "It's barely ten—"
    "I wanted to help you," she shot back, cutting me off. "Don't I always try to help you, Mallory?"
    "Yes, you do," I answered quickly, wishing to placate her. I eyed the bag she was carrying; she had not said anything about spending the night when we had spoken on the phone yesterday, and I hoped she wasn't planning to do so. "What's in the bag?" I asked. "Are you sleeping over?"
    "No, no, of course not!" she exclaimed.
    She had such a peculiar look on her face, I wondered if the mere idea of this was distasteful to her. However, I did not say a word, deeming it wiser to remain silent.
    She added, "But thanks, anyway, for asking me. I have a dinner date tonight. In the city. So I must get back. As for the bag, I have a change of clothes in it. For the barbecue. I do get so creased driving out here." She glanced down at her black-gabardine trousers. "Oh, dear!" she cried. "I hope this dog isn't going to cover me with hairs."
    Trixy, ever friendly, was jumping up against her legs. Stifling a sudden flash of annoyance with my mother, I automatically reached for the dog and picked her up.
    "The Bichon Frise doesn't shed, Mother." I said this as evenly as I possibly could, exercising great control over myself.
    "That's good