"I'm afraid of tickling on my neck."
"What?"
"You asked me to say something that I didn't tell anyone else. So - I'm afraid of tickling on the neck..."
The scene at the house in the mountains passed like a film in front of her eyes. Omer points to his neck and smiles like a boy.
Really? ...
Defne looked at him. He talked with Sinan, laughed, and looked like a man who has no secrets. Which conscience was not tormented by guilt? He was free and happy. She looked at Fikret. An undisguised triumph burned in her eyes. And this look made Defne think of her pride. She raised her chin and spoke with calm serenity as if her heart had not just been pierced by a long sewing needle:
"All men have a past, Fikret." It is foolish to give it meaning and pull into the present. Passed and forgotten, - she smiled a duty smile, which did not reach her eyes. - Sorry, I have to go to the girls. I want to make sure that they are not tired and feel good.
Defne went to the screens. Fikret looked after her and a red veil covered her eyes. What kind of woman is she? And when did she manage to change like that? Defne from the past would explode in a split second. The current one didn't even raise an eyebrow. But Fikret was sure that with her hint she would force her to throw an ugly scandal to her husband and his alleged lovers. And then Omer will see her essence as a goose from the neighborhood and understand how wrong he was when he married this plain girl.
Fikret looked at him. Such painfully desirable and beautiful. She wanted him madly. And he, noticing neither her nor her longing glances, looked after his wife with love in his eyes. Her own were kindled with an unkind fire, and her lips tightened. But no one noticed this. The workers of Passionis and Tranba, scurrying back and forth, as well as Omer himself, did not care about Fikret Galo.
Until the evening Defne avoided her husband. She circled the girls, discussed photos with Koray, and with Laura and Ahtem - sketches, as well as materials necessary for their implementation. Omer, smiling a little mockingly, but affectionately, watched his wife from the side. He knew her active nature and the fact that sitting idle is not for her. But she did not violate the doctor's recommendations, and he did not intervene. Only once did he catch her eye when Feryal approached him to discuss an article for a photoshoot and the opportunity to interview girls. And Omer did not like this look. Defne immediately averted her eyes, but he saw in their depths bitterness and pain. He was frightened and was ready to apologize to Feryal and hurry to his wife, but the next moment she turned to Seda and, laughing cheerfully, began to say something to her.
"It seemed so to me," Omer sighed in relief.
But in the car, when they returned home, the anxiety returned. Defne looked depressed and sad.
"Beloved," he asked, leaning towards her and looking into her eyes, "are you feeling well?"
"Yes," she answered. - Why do you ask?
"You look sad."
- I worry about Kumru and Dila. Leukemia is an insidious disease.
He silently took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.
Defne was silent all the way home and at supper. For some reason, she closed the curtains in the dining room and answered all the questions of Omer monosyllabically. Most of all now he wanted to pull her out of this state. And he spoke incessantly. About today's shootings, about a charity evening, auction, and much more. She nodded and smiled with her lips. The eyes remained sad. And when Omer mentioned Feryal in the conversation, he again clearly saw the pain in their amber bottom. He took her chin and turned her pretty face to himself.
"Defne," he called, looking intently into her eyes, "explain what happened?" You're not your own for half a day.
She gently removed his hand and asked:
- Let's light a fire in the fireplace.
- Are you cold? - Omer reached for the blanket, but Defne stopped him.
- No. I just want to look at the fire.
Omer lit a fire in the fireplace and when its living tongues danced on pine logs, he sat in front of his wife and, hiding her palms in his own, ordered:
- Tell me.
She looked up at him and asked:
"Do you remember that day, last summer, in your mom's mountain house?"
- Оf course I remember! He smiled. "It was then that I realized that I cannot live without you."
Defne's eyes brightened and Omer felt relieved, but her next words made him feel cold.
"Remember, I asked you to tell about yourself something that no one else knows." And you said you were afraid of ticklings on your neck.
- And? - fear, as a snake began to straighten its rings and raise its hissing, triangular head.
- Fikret knows.
Defne looked at his face and caught all involuntary emotions - disbelief, confusion, a glimpse of guesswork. The latter made her heart rollover.
"You told her," she did not ask. Just voiced the obvious. "But ... when?"
Omer's face darkened. He ran a palm over it and shook his head.
"I didn't say ... I think she guessed it herself."
- Did she guess it? Asked Defne. "But ... to guess ... she needed to touch you."
The picture vividly appeared before her eyes and she got nauseous. She clasped her hand over her mouth and rose from the couch.
- Defne, wait! - Omer jumped up next and held her hand. - Do not run away. Let's talk.
"I'm thirsty," she answered hoarsely.
- I'll bring it.
Omer put her back on the sofa and went into the kitchen. There, with a force hit palms against the countertop, he bowed his head and moaned quietly. And then he took Defne's favorite juice from the refrigerator and poured it into a glass. When he returned, he found her sitting motionless with palms clamped between her knees and looking at one point. He handed her the glass. She took it and took a sip. Sour juice precipitated nausea and made her feel better. Defne looked at her husband. He did not take his gaze from her.
- She touched you, huh?
He nodded.
- When?
- The first time in winter. She removed a leaf from the collar and touched my neck. I jerked.
- And second? Defne asked in a colorless voice.
- On Saturday. At the presentation. I went to the balcony ... she followed. She touched my neck and I jerked again.
"I see," she answered monotonously.
Omer crouched in front of her and took her hands.
"Beloved," he asked, "look at me."
When she looked up, he spoke with confident firmness:
- Both times I have not seen her. Therefore, I could not react in time. But believe me - her touch caused me only disgust. Do you believe me?
Defne nodded.
- Then smile!
She fulfilled the request. She smiled touchingly and, putting the glass of unfinished juice on the table, gently touched the bristles on his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it. And then he asked:
"That is not the only thing she told you?" Yes?
"You, as always, are Mr. Insight," Defne joked. "She reminded me you are a man with a past." And, perhaps, in your environment even the former girlfriends are present.
- Here is a snake! - Omer was indignant. - Only she is mistaken. There are no ex-girlfriends in my current environment. Except for Iz. But these were children's, platonic feelings.
- And Feryal? Asked Defne.
Jealous notes clearly sounded in her voice. But they no longer scared Omer. He saw that his wife believed him and that was the only thing that mattered. He smiled broadly and answered:
- Feryal never went beyond friends.
- Truth? - Defne exclaimed joyfully. - Ah, how good! I can now calmly communicate with her. Before I was running, as if from a plague.
Omer laughed quietly and pulled her to him and Defne hugged him in response. Closing their eyes, they listened to each other's heartbeat, bathed in tenderness, and did not know that pale blue eyes burning with hatred were watching them from the darkness.
Fikret was dying of anger and powerlessness. She could not hear the conversation, but without words it was clear - Omer dispelled Defne's fears and destroyed what she, Fikret, had so carefully created — a web of mistrust and lies. Well, why, why did this foolish girl told him everything? Shouldn't she have been silently tormented by suspicions and doubted the love and loyalty of her handsome husband? Fikret stepped back into the darkness and closed her eyes. Hatred for Defne overpowered all other feelings. Even the thirst for love faded into the background. The darkness completely swallowed her soul.
***
Ahtem got up from the couch and stretched out. Muscles stiffened from long immobility and required physical activity. All Saturday morning, he and Laura were sitting in the living room of her house and compiled a list of applications for precious stones. It was painstaking and tedious work. More precisely, it should have been so. But it became exciting and disturbing thoughts and soul. He sat next to the woman of his life, felt the warmth of her body, inhaled the scent, and at the same time melted from bliss and died from hopelessness. And he was angry that she abandoned attempts to talk with him about the past and accepted his condition - colleagues only. Because he wanted more and hated himself for this desire.
Ahtem looked toward the kitchen. Through the arched opening, a slender figure of the girl making coffee was visible. He looked at her noble profile and in his chest ached with tenderness and desire to touch. Would approach her now, hug, close his hands under her chest and press his lips to her neck. And do not care about the past.
Laura poured strong coffee into tiny cups. Its aroma floated in the air and intoxicated. The thought that Ahtem is here, in her house, made her tremble inside. Let him not want to listen to her, understand and forgive, but she can see and hear him, and therefore live. Behind her, steps were heard. Laura took a deep breath and, without looking back, said:
- The coffee is ready.
- Why did you divorce?
Laura closed her eyes for a moment and then turned to him.
- What is the point of preserving a family that doesn't and never was? I never loved Luke, and he didn't love me.
She looked into his eyes. The return look was heavy and gloomy.
- There are many reasons. Status, title, money, religion. Didn't you choose them once?
- No. Not them.
Ahtem sat down on a stool near the kitchen counter and pulled a cup of coffee toward him. Grinning mockingly, he asked again:
- Not them? His grin filled with bitterness. "And not me." Well, I hope the one you chose deserved it.
"He didn't deserve it," Ahtem looked up at her. Laura's lips trembled slightly and long eyelashes from pent-up tears turned into arrows. - He has always been for me the main person in life. That's just my life, my happiness, and I myself did not mean anything to him. My sacrifices were in vain. Unfortunately, I realized this too late when the choice was already made.
"Are you talking about your father?"
- Yes. About him. A month before his death, we had a conversation...
"Has your father died?" - surprised Ahtem. - I did not know.
- Yes. Crashed in the car three years ago. A week after the funeral, I filed for divorce. It dragged on for a year. The Catholic Church does not welcome divorces. Especially among the nobility.
Ahtem was shocked. What Laura was talking about was tearing patterns and destroying all his previous convictions. The protective wall fell, and he could no longer hide behind it, as before. Inside like a rolling snowball grew the need to understand everything that he had previously shoved in the corners of consciousness.
- You said - did you have a conversation? - He asked. Remembering that he interrupted her, he apologized: - I'm sorry, I interrupted you.
"No problem" she smiled. - Yes, there was a conversation. In the newspapers appeared candid photos of Luke with another beauty on the beach of Cala Rossa. There were girls before, but he managed to avoid the lenses of the paparazzi. But this time there was a lapse. And a scandal. Father blamed me for this. He said - I am as worthless a wife like my mother. But she at least gave birth to a child. A miserable girl, but still ... and I am incapable of this either. I replied that two are needed for conception ... I'm not the Blessed Virgin Mary. He laughed sarcastically and replied that he thought so. I can't even arouse an ordinary desire in a man...
Ahtem's right palm clenched into a fist. And is this a father? How could he? How did his tongue turn to say this to his daughter?
"I hope he is burning in the hell now," the man growled hoarsely, and tears still ran down Laura's swarthy cheeks. Brushing them with the back of her hand, she said with bitter irony:
- Hardly. The rite of worship was performed by the Pope himself and the indulgence he wrote out covers all sins. But it is not important. Father has always been so - cold and callous. And I was looking for excuses for him and seeking his love. Stupid me. It is impossible to get from a person what he is not capable of. Unfortunately, I realized this too late. It's all my fault, Ahtem. Just me. The fact that I was scared and did not protect my feelings. That I put blinders on my eyes and refused to recognize reality. That I ruined my life. I do not ask you to forgive me. I understand that this is impossible. I just wanted you to know the truth.
"That's why you came to Istanbul."
She shook her head.
- No. I'm just tired of being a mechanical doll. I wanted to live again. To breathe deeply.
Ahtem took a breath. Allah, he did not even notice that for five years he had not breathed deeply. Not trembling with excitement. He did not see the blue of the sky. He didn't feel the taste of food. Did not live. Sex was just to relieve tension. What have they done with their life?
"Let's drink coffee," he said. - It will cool down.
Laura lowered her eyes and brought the cup to her quivering lips.
***
Snow fell in the mountains. Defne heard about this in the news and was eager to see it with her own eyes. Omer, admiring her eyes burning with impatience, agreed. They made tea in a thermos, made sandwiches, gathered all this wealth in a basket, and pulled on themselves warm jackets, hats, and boots sat down in the car.
The announcer did not lie. In the mountains, it was white from the fallen snow. Defne rejoiced to it like a child and was bouncing on the seat rather impatient to find herself in this crystal-clear magic. Omer parked the car in a mountain parking lot and, holding hands, they went to wander through the snowy forest. Defne was playing around, tugging the snow-covered fluffy pine branches and covering Omer with sparkling powder. In response, he grabbed her in his arms and circled until she closed her eyes and demanded to stop or her poor head would never return to normal. Omer obediently put her on the ground, straightened her hat, wrapping her more tightly in the scarf. And he said that she looked like a princess from a fairy tale. The princess, smiling cunningly, put a leg and tripped him over, he tumbled into the snow. She herself fell on top and kissed his laughing lips.
- Be careful, hooligan! He asked. - Do not forget that you are pregnant.
"I remember," she answered arrogantly. - But you are so soft that we will assume - I fell on a feather bed.
- Soft? - Omer was indignant and turned over. Defne was under him. He looked into the laughing eyes and kissed her. For real. With the open desire, he burst his tongue into her warm mouth and found - velvet and sweet. Defne groaned and he answered with a low growl.
There were a day and a half left abstinence.
"The snow is beautiful, but how cold it is!"
Defne fell into the car seat, slammed the door behind her, and try to warm her cold hands.
"Now I turn on the heat and warm ourselves," Omer answered her in his place.
She pulled off her hat and scarf and threw them into the back seat. There was a picnic basket. Defne took out the thermos and box with sandwiches from it. Pouring tea into plastic cups, she held out one to Omer and wrapped her cup with both hands.
"Oh, how good," she said, enjoying the warmth, and took a sip. "I have never drunk better tea."
- Do you want a sandwich? Omer asked her.
- I want! I'm really hungry.
Silence reigned in the car for a while. Hungry Iplikci ate sandwiches and sipped the hot tea. The powerful heating system quickly heated the air inside the cabin. Warmed Defne pulled off her jacket and, leaning back in the seat, folded her hands on her stomach.
- Off! We are full, happy, and satisfied.
"Fine," Omer put his hands on hers and asked: "Are we going home?"
"Yeah," Defne agreed.
He started the car and driving onto the road:
"I forget to ask you: last night you closed the curtains in the dining room." What for?
A smile slowly faded from Defne's face. What for? If she knew! Entering the house yesterday, she remembered the words of that strange old woman. And the hands themselves reached out to close the curtains. True, then she safely forgot about it, and in other rooms, the windows remained uncovered. But how to explain this strange impulse to Omer, without even mentioning the old woman?
- Ay, I don't know! She deliberately answered carelessly. - Something got into my head. Do not pay attention to. My pregnancy is an excuse.
"Well, if you say so," Omer smiled.
"Tomorrow is the presentation of Tranba," Defne reminded. - Deniz did not allow me to participate in the preparation, but to appear before the show.
"He allowed it," Omer muttered, which caused Defne to burst with laughter. - Do not laugh! - He was indignant. "I'm a beast when someone commands you."
- No one but you has the right to do this? She teased him.
"Exactly," he agreed. "Although, I don't have the right either." - Defne gasped in surprise. "But I will do it anyway."
- Who would doubt that! She laughed. "But I agree." Command!
"But I, oh, really doubt that you will obey."
- You're right! Her giggle turned into loud laughter.
Late in the evening, Defne dressed in soft gray pajamas came out of the shower. Dried, but not straightened hair with violent curls fell on her back. The skin shone clean and the eyes with an amber glow. She looked very young and pure. Omer, lying in bed, laid down his tablet and threw back the blanket.
"Well, what took you so long?" Come to me already. I miss you.
Defne slipped into bed and snuggled up to him, and then reached for the tablet and asked:
- What did you watch?
- The site that the doctor advised.
Defne looked at the screen and her face blushed.
"And why are we embarrassed?" - Omer ran the knuckle of his index finger over the cheek burning with fire.
- Ay, don't ask! Such pictures..." she pursed her lips indignantly.
- Defne!
- What?
"Are you still embarrassed by me?"
She glanced at him and honestly answered:
- Yeah.
"Silly," he laughed. "I want to be sure that tomorrow I will not harm the bead."
"You can't harm it," Defne assured him. - I know.
He kissed her forehead.
- And the second - I want our love-making to continue to give you pleasure.
- But is it any different? - Defne was genuinely surprised and her words made Omer throw his head back and laugh. - Why are you laughing? - Offended she stuck out her lower lip.
He kissed her and answered:
- Darling, you just, without suspecting it, raised my male ego to unprecedented heights.
- Why is that?
"The fact that you are always feeling pleasure with me," Omer put down his tablet and pulled her to his chest.
"He discovered America," said Defne mockingly. - Let's sleep. Tomorrow will be a long and tiring day.
"And night," Omer thought to himself and heaved a sigh. "But there is still a whole day until night!"
And this day promised to be very long.
And in the house opposite, in her room, clutching her teeth to the pillow, Fikret sobbed. She was again an unsolicited witness to happiness, again jealous and envious, again madly wanted Omer and his love. And with her clouded mind, she hated Defne.
The old woman stood quietly behind the door and, listening to the dull sounds inside the room, frowned her eyebrows. When the sobbing stopped and there was silence in the room, she, inaudibly stepping on the stone floor, went to her room. She got a photograph from the bedside table and, looking into the clean, blue eyes, asked:
"What shall I do with your daughter, my soul?"
***
Defne made her hair in soft curls, applied makeup to her face, and put on a dress. Small, black and flawless, which sat right on her elegant figure. And to it - dark red shoes on a high heеl. Turning in front of the high mirror, she was about to leave the dressing room, as Omer came into it while dressing his jacket. Defne went up to him, carefully pulled on his jacket shoulders, and straightened his collar.
- Will you tie me the tie? He asked.
- Let me.
She slipped an expensive silk cloth under his collar and began to do complex manipulations with it. And Omer stood and enjoy. He inhaled the heady scent of perfume, touched the silk of a copper curl, kissed the temple, and stroked the delicate skin in the cut on the back.
"Omer, we will not go anywhere at such a pace," Defne reproached him with a tremor of pleasure.
"I do not mind," he purred and touched her small earlobe with his tongue.
She pulled back and looked at him pleadingly.
"Good, good." He raised his hands. "We're going to the presentation and celebrating your triumph." But when we get back ..., - his eyes lit up with fire, - you agreed to obey my desires and allow me to command.
- When was that?
- Yesterday in the mountains.
He burned her with a seductive, sly look, from which everything inside burned and melted. Holy heavens! What did she agree to?
"By the way," he took her hand and pulled her into the room. "I have a present for you and your dress."
He took a flat box from the dressing table and opened it. Inside, warm rubies and cool diamonds glowed. Earrings and a pendant repeating the style of Defne's engagement ring and they becаme one set. Defne ran her fingers over them and raised an admiring glance at Omer.
- Did you draw them?
He nodded.
- I did. Even when I drеw the ring. But Ahtem could only do it now.
- Very beautiful!
Defne took the earrings in her hands, admired them, and, putting on her ears, looked at her reflection in the mirror. Omer dropped the box on the bed, circled the graceful neck with a thin chain and fastened it. Standing behind and looking at the reflection of Defne in the mirror, he straightened the pendant on her chest and laid his hands on shoulders covered in black silk. Against his background, the skin shone like snow-white porcelain, and red hair seemed even brighter. Their color echoed the warm gold of the jewelry and served as an additional setting for the precious stones. Not surprisingly, Defne was drawn to jewelry design. She is a jewel. The rarest and most amazing. Omer ran his hands over her arms and kissed the curve of her neck. Defne, closing her eyes, smiled, and pressed the back of her head to his shoulder.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
- Do not thank me. Better promise something, "he asked hoarsely.
- What?
- In the evening you will not remove the pendant and earrings.
Millions of butterflies fluttered in her stomach and trembled violently with their weightless wings.
"I promise ..."
***
In the banquet room of a grand hotel in Nisantasi, hundreds of lights of the chandeliers shone brightly under the ceiling, and above the marble floor tiles, there was a towering podium. Unobtrusive music sounded and monotonous murmur - the voices of hundreds of guests.
Iplikci were separated as soon as they entered the hall. Iz dragged Defne into the dressing room where they were preparing to show the models, and Omer approached Sinan. Winking, he asked:
- Well, how is it to compete with your own wife? Jealousy does not choke you?
"Not at all," Omer answered shortly.
"And even the fact that it brings Tranba's success with her collection doesn't hurt either?"
"No," Omer replied still short.
Sinan laughed.
"I recognize my brother." Words cannot be extended beyond what he wants to say.
"So don't pull my words brother," Omer patted his shoulder. At that moment he himself was looking at the arched opening of the entrance to the hall. In an instant, his face stretched out and darkened. "What is she doing here?"
- Who? - Sinan looked around. - Ah, Fikret! I do not know.
"I decided to teach her a lesson and show what real talent and recognition is." So I sent an invitation, "said Deniz, who approached his friends.
- Wouldn't the opposite effect work in this case? Sinan asked anxiously. - Fikret is a complex person.
"So let her think about her problems," Trаnba snapped.
Omer, not taking his gaze from the guest who entered, said:
- I apologize. I need to talk to Fikret.
He strode toward her. Ignoring her happy smile, quietly ordered:
- Fikret, let's go to the balcony. I want to say a few words to you.
She felt cold on her skin from his tone, but she couldn't refuse. She went after him as attached.
Entering the hall Defne saw only the backs of her husband and Fikret, hiding behind the balcony door. She looked around bewildered and followed.
"I'm listening to you," Fikret forced a smile.
"Fikret, did I ask you to leave Defne and me alone?" - she did not answer. She just looked down at the sparkling lights of the big city. - What do you achieve with your intrigues? Why did you told Defne such nonsense, fabrications and upset her?
"I have not said a word of untruth," she objected angrily.
"But you have distorted the truth," Omer retorted. "I will not ask and warn anymore." Do not dare to upset Defne again, or I will do my best, but I'll throw you out of Istanbul and Turkey.
- Are you threatening me? - not believing her ears asked Fikret.
"Exactly," he confirmed. - Believe me, I will find а way to put my words into action.
- You forget that I am a partner of Passionis in a charity show! Fikret's voice broke into a squeal.
Omer didn't even lift an eyebrow. Still calmly and coldly, he answered her attack:
- I did not forget. This is the last project in which we collaborate. The show is in a week. After this, Passionis will have nothing to do with you. Never.
Fikret's eyes burned with fury. If the gaze could kill, Omer would already lie on the floor breathless. But fortunately, the glances do not have such power. He stood with his shoulders proudly straight and with his hands in his pockets, he looked at the girl emanating hatred with an icy gaze. She spun on her heels and ran out of the ajar door. Without looking behind her, he turned to the lights of the big city.
Defne heard everything to the last word. Not tightly closed balcony door gave her such an opportunity. Pride, admiration, gratitude, love - all this cocktail of feelings filled her and pressed her chest. She touched her stomach and whispered:
- Our dad is the best. Right kitten?
At that moment, the door swung open wide, and a furious Fikret whirled past her. Defne looked after her and quietly stepped out onto the balcony. Omer, pushing back the jacket and his hands in his pockets, stood with his back to her. Vibes of strength and confidence flowed from his figure. She went up to him and gently touched his neck. He threw back his head, pressed his nape to her palm, and said:
"You have the most delicate hands in the world.
"And you have the most beautiful neck," Defne whispered and asked, "Didn't you even doubt that it was me?"
"Not for a split second," he turned and hugged her. Looking into the eyes he asked: - Did I tell you today that I love you?
She smiled brightly and answered:
"A thousand times, but not in words."
He leaned towards her face and whispered in a velvet voice on her lips:
"Then listen with words." I love you.
She replied with a kiss as sweet as honey.
The evening was drawing to a close. Defne received her portion of compliments, Deniz Tranba - new customers interested in long-term contracts, Iz, and Seda - praise for the impeccable preparation of the presentation. The guests said goodbye to the hosts of the evening and left the hotel. Tranba workers loaded boxes of shoes into a van. Journalists at the front door were in no hurry to leave, hoping to get a couple of pictures of the rich and famous in an informal setting. Everything was as usual and went on the same.
Fikret left the building and fell under the lens of the cameras. The light of the flashbulbs struck the eyes unpleasantly. She grimaced and wanted to slip past, but the annoying journalist stuck a microphone in her face and chattered:
"Madam Fikret, are you leaving alone?"
Fikret frowned inside, but fixed a kind smile on her face and answered a question with a question:
- And with whom should I go?
- Does such a beautiful, famous, talented girl have no life partner?
The question cut through the heart like a knife. Fikret, with all her strength, held a tight smile on her face.
- Gentlemen, I'm in a hurry. Have a good evening.
She hurried forward to the taxi. The journalists rushed after her, but then the owners of the companies Passionis and Tranba went out with their companions and the paparazzi forgot about Fikret Galo and aimed their cameras at them. Deniz stepped forward, gave a short report, allowed to take some pictures, and asked the journalists to leave with a gesture.
Those satisfied that they managed to shoot a report and many hours of duty on the November cold were not in vain, they obeyed without question.
Tranba turned to his companions and offered to continue the evening at a nightclub.
"That is all I don't want now!" Omer thought and cast a pleading glance at Defne. She, as if did not notice it. Sweetly smiled and complained that she was very tired and wanted to sleep. And to take off the shoes. Ten more minutes on these stilettos, and she will cry. Nobody wanted to see the crying pregnant girl and the couple Iplikci, wishing good night, were released home. Two couples sat down in their cars and drove to the club, and Omer, proud of his clever wife, carefully took Defne under the elbow and led her to the car.
Fikret watched them from the taxi. Her lips twisted in an evil grimace and her eyes burned with the dark fire of hatred. She closed them and realized - not a single bright feeling remained in her soul. Jealousy and envy destroyed everything and filled it with darkness without a single ray of kindness and hope.
In the car, Defne dropped her shoes and sighed with overt relief.
- Allah Allah! How tired I am ...
"We'll come home now and I'll make you a bath," Omer promised.
Defne squinted at Sukru and said nothing. Her cheeks were glowing with a pretty blush. Omer put her hand on his hip, covered with his own, and, smiling slyly, turned to the window.
Istanbul shone with millions of lights. It graciously allowed the late evening to throw on its shoulders a velvet woven from darkness and fog cloak and hid the restless children, wise old people, and passionate lovers under it. Omer knew that as soon as he and Defne got home and the door shut behind them, the midnight world would sparkle with magic, whose name is passion. His body responded to these thoughts with a shiver bordering on pain.
- Sukru, the road is deserted. Add speed," he asked the driver.
"Good, Mr. Omer," he answered and pressed the gas.
Defne, throwing her head back, looked at her husband. From the strain, his features took on sculptural clarity, and a fire raged in his eyes. It scorched and promised bliss. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. Omer cursed the damn road and the car that can't fly.
Defne's shoes casually clung to her index finger and swayed to the beat of Omer steps. He carried his wife in his arms, and she laughed and shook her bare feet in the air carefree. Almost two months ago, on the island, Omer promised her that he would carry her in his arms every day. And he kept his word. Over the past time, there has not been a single day when he broke his promise. Each time these minutes were for Defne, as a miracle. The pinnacle of absolute happiness and silent recognition in boundless love. And each time, a wave of tenderness and gratitude swept over her breast. She wanted to answer him the same. To give joy, delight, pleasure. To make him the happiest person on earth.
Thin fingers ran across a strip of skin between the collar of his shirt and the hairline. This touch echoed with a ripple in the groin.
"Defne, we risk not reaching the bedroom," Omer warned.
- The bedroom? - She was indignant. - Someone promised me a warm bath...
- Bath? - eating her face with burning eyes, he asked. - A good idea!
Entering the bedroom, Omer holding Defne in his hands, he crossed it with a wide step and pushed the bathroom door. Putting his wife on the floor, he passed with greedy palms along the bends of the fragile body and kissed her hotly.
"Wait and don't dare move," he ordered, but he opened the faucet and let the water into the bathtub. He added a drop of foam and the heady smell of lavender and honey floated around the room.
He turned off the overhead lamps and turned on the backlight, which surrounded the bath with pale coral lights and illuminated the room with a soft, warm gloss.
There was a thump behind. Omer looked around. On the floor lay Defne's shoes. Red stilettos. They fell from her weakened fingers. The man looked into her face. She bites lower lip and huge amber eyes are wide open. Holding them with his gaze, Omer slowly took off his jacket, untied his tie, and took hold of the belt. Having unbuttoned it and the button of his trousers, he left them and set to work on his shirt. He took off cufflinks from the sleeves and laid them on the marble table. He unfastened the top button. The sight of his bronze skin reflecting in the twilight returned Defne's ability to move. She went to her husband and pushed his hands aside. She unfastened his shirt and pulled it off his broad shoulders. His hands were already wandering around her body. They squeezed her breasts, stroked the hips, unzipped her dresses on her back, and caressed her delicate skin. He lowered the zip and the silk fabric fell to the floor. Defne stepped over it and boldly looked into Omer's eyes. His mind was blurred. She was so beautiful, so perfect ... An ideal woman created only for him alone. Black lace underwear set off the snow-white skin and beckoned to rip the lace off.
He did so. Having pushed the gold cufflinks to the floor, he set her on the cool, marble surface and ran his palm along the slender leg from foot to hip. Holding on for a moment, he unfastened the openwork edge of the stocking and in one motion pulled it off and threw it aside. The second was waiting for the same fate. Looking Defne in the eyes, he widely spread her knees to the sides and stood between them, clinging with his nature to her such a desirable place. Hands rose to her breasts. Omer outlined the edges of the black lace with his fingers and covered clearly defined peaks with his lips. Having lost his mind, he bit her with his teeth, and Defne arched. A moan escaped her lips, fingers gripping his hair. She trembled all over and hoarsely repeated the favorite name:
- Omer ... Omer ... Omer ...
Her underwear flew into the corner. After it is his clothes. Omer covered her mouth with a kiss and burst his tongue into her honey depth. Grabbing her in his arms and not tearing off from her lips, he lowered Defne into the warm water and covered her with himself. Bubbles of foam burst on the skin, and it was covered with goosebumps. Or maybe it was not the foam that was to blame, but the desire, bubbling in the chest with violent flames and bringing the blood to a boiling point.
Omer rolled over on his back and set Defne on himself. He slowly entered her body. She curved in an arc and threw back her head. Splashes of water hit the pendant. In the dimmed coral light, the ruby glowed softly, emphasizing the perfection of her porcelain skin.
"A sorceress," Omer whispered hoarsely, and holding her hips made the first push. Each subsequent one was stronger, more powerful. With each push, a voice sounded louder, passing from a whisper to a growl: - You bewitched me ... soul, body - everything is yours ... sweet ... how sweet you are ... I love you !!!
- I love you! - Defne cried and flew above the clouds.
And it started to rain outside. It washed the land, roofs of houses, windows, and washed away evil tears from Fikret's distorted jealousy.