Consequences

Part 94

"If I'd known sex was this good, I'd never have waited." Isabelle told him when she eventually got her breath back, several minutes later.

"I didn't wait." Doug told her gently and honestly before whispering in what sounded like awe, but might well have been sheer exhaustion, "And it's never been this good." He rolled them onto their sides, determined to stay close. It had never been this good. Never this draining. Never this sense of utter completeness. Not just replete. The cool air against their rapidly cooling hot skin was raising goose bumps. The last thing he wanted was for their lovemaking to cause her to get a chill. She'd only just got over a bad bout of the flu. "We should get under the covers." He suggested in a voice that sounded far from normal.

"I would if I could, but I can't move." Isabelle owned up in happy bemusement.

That had his heart lifting. "You wring me out, and then complain that you can't move?" Pride swamped him. He felt heroic! Finding some vestige of energy he rolled to the edge of the bed, then reached for his side of the duvet and tossed it. Then he headed for her side, lifted her and placed her on the bed, followed her, and pulled the duvet over them. "You ok?" Doug asked tenderly. He couldn't remember ever feeling this complete sense of togetherness.

"Better than ok." She mumbled as lethargy took over. "That was amazing!" She nuzzled closer.

Doug's heart swelled. "You are amazing."

Her lips curved into a smile. She felt amazing. They snuggled together. A few minutes later, they were both sound asleep.

Doug awoke early Saturday morning. Isabelle slept on. He was tempted to wake her, then decided to just use the time to look at her.

For the last couple of days she'd been sharing his office, working with him to keep control of the company. Ryan and Jared were working just as hard. As a foursome they ran through various scenarios, argued the points, weighed up options and decided on a course of action. And one week after they became aware of the hostile buyout, they were still in charge of the business they had started. It was still theirs. Ryan had even identified the person trying to get a hefty slice. An Australian. The fact they were still in business was in some part down to this amazing woman, he thought as he watched her sleep. His amazing woman, he thought.

Isabelle awoke two hours later, found she was alone in bed and scowled. She hoped he hadn't gone home. Was the etiquette nowadays to have sex and then go home to your own bed? She hoped not. Lethargically she rolled out of bed and after dragging on her wrap, padded into the kitchen and found Doug reading some paperwork.

"Morning." Doug took detailed inventory, his memory reminding him of what lay beneath that wrap. His heart reminding him of what lay ahead. He wondered whether she'd expect anything from him, not just in terms of sex, but in terms of a relationship. Should they discuss what had happened between then, because he knew, and he was sure she knew, that what happened was a lot more than sex.

"Morning." Isabelle replied, and massaged the back of her neck. "Why are you up so early?" She asked him as she reached for a mug and the switch on the percolator.

"It's gone eight." He said with a smile in his voice, as if that hour in the day explained everything.

"It's Saturday." Isabelle reminded and took a seat.

"You didn't have to get out of bed." Doug pushed his chair back.

"Yes, I did." Isabelle propped her chin on the palm of her hand and made eye contact. His eyes were like a stormy ocean she decided, that mixture of blue and grey.

"Why?" Doug wondered what had caused her eyes to fire. It was like looking at glowing embers.

"To make sure that you weren't a figment of my imagination." Isabelle told him bluntly, wondering how he'd react to the reminder of what they'd shared last night.

"And what an imagination." His lips curved into a smile.

"You were the creative one." Isabelle told him and ducked her gaze, but her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile of delight. Ok, so she could handle the morning after conversations.

"Have to be creative if you're ugly and want a woman to come back." He replied with equal bluntness.

She blinked. "What?" Isabelle looked up to see that he was serious. That puzzled her. "You're joking."

"No, I..."

"You aren't ugly." She threw the words back at him, appalled to think that he would use those words to describe himself.

"My nose is broken, I have scars on my scars, I...."

She looked absolutely astonished. "I would pay a fortune to have your eyes and eyelashes." She looked more than annoyed. "I know Rina told Rafe that she thought your cheekbones were wasted on a man! And we both had a talk about your lips!" That had Doug's eyebrows heading for his hairline. But she hadn't finished. "Rafe told us that you probably don't like being called a pretty boy and got the scars for effect!"

Doug blinked. Good grief she had talked about him with her brother-in-law. Doug wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. But she was still ranting in her own inimitable style, with cool hauteur and no sign of a raised voice. "Yet you sit here and tell me you think you are ugly because you've got a broken nose and a couple of scars." He realised she was angry on his behalf.

"I don't mind being ugly." Doug stated quietly, wondering whether her defence meant that she wanted a lot more from him. He hoped it did.

"Tough. You aren't, so get over it." Isabelle was close to shouting.

Doug grinned. Then reached for her hand. "You know, that calm, cool, controlled Isabelle Sojour-D'Sa is a fake." He twined their fingers, liking the fact that she would go into bat for him. "A facade."

"Hmmph." Isabelle snorted without a care for being ladylike, "Don't change the subject. We were talking about you." She unlaced her fingers, "You aren't ugly."

"Yes, I am." He replied candidly.

"Oh! For goodness sake, Rina, much to Rafe's disgust I hasten to add, thinks you are sexy. Cara has told all her bridge cronies that you could give Pitt and Clooney a run for their money when it comes to charm, and admittedly, I'm biased because I love you, but nothing about you is ugly." She got to her feet, furious with herself for raising her voice. In a quieter tone she said, "I'm going to grab a shower." Quickly she left the room. Now why had she told him how she felt? Why blurt it out like that? The man had been nothing but kindness and now he might think she was guilt tripping him but telling him how she felt. She walked to her bedroom feeling every sort of a fool for just blurting things out that like.

As the door swung shut, Doug sat there, stunned. Then, once the door had stopped swinging, he grinned broadly. She loved him.