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Bittersweet Secret
By JM Lane


Rating: T | Status: Completed | Genre: Drama | Series: None
Summary:
Original Series. Roxanne Drew becomes pregnant by Barnabas and attempts to conceal it from him and his family as well as her own.

Go to: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


Part 1

Roxanne Drew had a secret. A secret which made her both happy and sad. She had recently discovered that she was pregnant—the result of the one tenderly passionate night she had shared with her beloved, Barnabas Collins, before learning that he was married. She was happy to be carrying his child, and would be the best mother she knew how to be…but there were several problems.

First off, as mentioned before, her loved one was married. Unhappily, to be sure, but married nonetheless…and Roxanne knew as well as she knew her own name that his wife, Valerie–a jealous and paranoid, beautiful but dangerous woman–would never release him. Not even if she knew about Roxanne’s pregnancy, and she must never know. If she did, she was likely to do something to either make her lose the baby or take it away from her.

Either way, Roxanne didn’t want to think of the repercussions. All she was certain of was that it would be slow and painful…and best of all, played out in front of Barnabas, while Valerie (aka Angelique), his witch-wife, watched with sadistic pleasure. Barnabas must also never know—at least not immediately—even though she knew that he would have been ecstatic at the knowledge that he was to become a father, that the star-crossed love he and Roxanne had shared had borne fruit. She could have given him such love and happiness, such passion…if it had only been allowed!

But worst of all was the stigma of unwed pregnancy, particularly when the girl involved had become pregnant by a partner who was already married, whatever the relationship between husband and wife. Oh, Barnabas, my love, Roxanne lamented, resting a hand on her still-flat belly, where even now, a six-week embryo was growing and developing. How I wish this was your hand on my belly, that you could be holding me and telling me how much you love me and our child…but most of all, that you could be my husband and I could be your wife. Roxanne’s sea-green eyes filled with tears. Oh, how I miss you, my darling!

Roxanne had no idea how she would ever be able to conceal her pregnancy, but somehow she must. From not only Barnabas, but her father and sister Samantha…everyone. Possibly the only person she could trust would be Julia, Barnabas’ sister, who was a doctor. Roxanne knew that Julia was every bit as devoted to her brother as he was to her; perhaps (if only for that reason), she would help Roxanne conceal her pregnancy for as long as necessary.

Meanwhile, she had to go find Julia and speak privately with her, see what they could come up with.


Heaven knew that neither Barnabas nor Roxanne had ever meant for something like this to happen—but their attraction had been intense and immediate, so strong as to be irresistible. Both had felt such overwhelming love and desire that they had been unable to resist. Most importantly, she had been a virgin, her greatest desire to give herself completely to the man she loved so desperately, with all the hunger and intensity of first love, which it was…but also with the longevity of eternal love, which it also was. He was everything she’d ever wanted, for now and all time.

It had seemed like an eternity from the moment they’d first met, in the garden outside Collinwood, where she was staying with her sister while her father was away, to the time Barnabas had come to her in her bedroom that evening. She had loved Barnabas Collins from the first moment she’d ever spoken to him, and would love him as long as she lived…and the child she now carried was living proof of that love.

She loved everything about him: his rich, velvety voice with its hint of a British accent; his soft, sable-brown eyes; his thick, silky black hair; his strong but gentle arms and hands; his warm, sweet lips…and his incredible body which had given her ecstasy such as she had never known. She smiled as she recalled his murmuring her name so tenderly and crooning romantic yet erotic words of love in her ear as he had kissed, caressed and made passionate love to her. The only lover she had ever had, and the only lover she would ever want.

Why must things be so complicated? Why couldn’t two people in love simply be together if they so chose? Surely there could be no love between Barnabas and Valerie. As far as Roxanne could tell, it was strictly a marriage of convenience, that she had blackmailed him into living with her again, since her impression was that they were estranged and had been for some time. Julia had told her that Valerie had also forced Barnabas to break off his affair with her, or else she would do something to harm her…and even as painful as it had been for him to do so, he could never risk that.

She also knew that no matter what, she could never marry that detestable beast, Lamar Trask…not if he were the last man on Earth! And she would threaten suicide if either he or her father—or even Samantha, for that matter—tried to force the issue. She knew her father, J. Leonard Drew, loved her and meant well, but seemed to be too dazzled by the Trask name, Lamar’s smooth talk and impeccable acting to think straight…but most of all by the considerable Trask fortune, which Lamar had inherited upon his father’s death. It was so unfortunate that parents nowadays could be, and were, so often taken in by money, position, a prominent name or a flawless acting job.

She hated to think of how many had experienced unhappiness, even agony and horror of both a physical and emotional nature because they had been forced into a loveless marriage for the sake of money, politics or position. She knew just how they felt, and vowed that it was never going to happen to her, no matter what she had to do. Psychological blindness was the worst kind, the kind which prevented people from seeing others as they really were. She was convinced that it was some kind of mental block against an unpleasant truth.

Not to say that parents were always wrong…but neither were they always right. Unlike the attitude of some of her friends, Roxanne had never subscribed to the notion that a parent’s word was the next thing to God’s. She was willing to submit her will and destiny to Him, but parents were Human and therefore imperfect, just as capable of errors in judgment…sometimes fatal ones, ones which affected the course of their children’s lives and all-too-often, ruined them for all time.

God willing, she would get the opportunity to teach her child the correct way of thinking. In the meantime, she would stand firm in her resolve not to marry Lamar Trask…not when there was someone who truly loved her for herself. Besides, Lamar wouldn’t want her if he knew she was carrying another man’s child. At the very least, she would be considered "damaged goods" and therefore unworthy of being wife to him—which suited her just fine.

If it hadn’t been for Trask’s penchant for conclusion-jumping and consorting with questionable people, Roxanne would have told him flat-out about the baby and let the chips fall where they may…but because of this, she dared not. There was not only herself but her child and Barnabas to consider, not to mention her family—her father, brother and sister...the consequences to them if her pregnancy was discovered and the fact of her scandalous affair with a married man became public knowledge, particularly in her unwed state.

But the first order of business was to see Julia and take her into her confidence, then hopefully the older woman could suggest the best thing to do, how to handle this touchy situation with the least possible amount of emotional fallout for everyone concerned.


 Roxanne found Julia in her room, getting ready for bed. The older woman was surprised to answer a knock at her door and find her "brother’s" paramour standing there. What possible reason could Roxanne have for being here at this hour (2:30 a.m.)? What was so urgent that she had to come late at night, making sure that no one was likely to disturb them? Even as much as she liked the girl, no matter how obvious it was that she and Barnabas were deeply in love, it didn’t make it any easier for Julia to know that even as much as she herself loved Barnabas, his affection for her, as great as it was, was only that of a brother for a sister. She simply wasn’t young or beautiful enough to compete with other women for his attention, romantically speaking.

However much it hurt to see him romance Roxanne and other women when she wanted so much for it to be her, Julia knew that it would hurt infinitely more to leave this time and be without him...and she cared more for Barnabas’ happiness than her own. So she put on her best professional mask and smiled at her unexpected visitor, even though both were in their nightgowns, robes and slippers, their hair down; Roxanne’s auburn mane was long and wavy, flowing well past her shoulders, and Julia’s was in a long braid which hung halfway down her back.

Julia could see part of Roxanne’s nightgown, which was a pale blue, long, silky and liberally trimmed with lace, the neckline dipping low enough to show cleavage. Her robe matched the nightgown, if only in color and texture; her slippers were high heels trimmed with gold and rhinestones, while her own were slip-on bootee-type things; her nightgown was flannel and up to her chin, even though it had blue flowers on a white background with a ruffle down the front, around her neck, on the sleeve cuffs and around her ankles. She could just picture the look on Barnabas’ face if he could see them now…

But she pushed the unhappy thought aside and said, "Roxanne! What brings you here at this hour?"

"I have a problem. Uh…may I call you ‘Dr. Collins’ or ‘Julia’?"

"What kind of problem?" Julia asked. "And it doesn’t make any difference what you call me. Whatever’s most comfortable for you, my dear."

"A very personal one, I’m afraid," Roxanne confessed quietly. "It—concerns Barnabas."

Julia closed her eyes in pain for a moment before replying, visibly pulling herself together and hoping Roxanne hadn’t seen it. "What about Barnabas?"

"I…assume you know that I’m—in love with him," she went on.

"And he with you," Julia finished. "I know how much it’s tearing him apart to be separated from you, but he has no choice. He cannot take the chance of Valerie harming you."

"I know…and I understand why he cannot come see me or be with me—but it doesn’t make it any easier to be without him." Roxanne’s voice was laced with both great love and equally great sorrow. "I miss him so much, Julia. I miss his touch, his kiss, his arms around me…" Her eyes again filled with tears and threatened to overflow.

Julia’s compassion won out over her own pain and bitterness, and she gathered the despondent young woman into her arms, stroking her hair soothingly, brushing her tears away and crooning comforting, reassuring words, much as a mother would do with a daughter. In fact, Julia was only a relative handful of years away from being old enough to be Roxanne’s mother. She had no idea how long she stood there holding Roxanne in her arms, but suddenly it didn’t matter. She must do all she could to help others, even if she couldn’t help herself.

But she eventually did release the younger woman, handing her one of her own hankies, which was plain white, but trimmed with lace and exuding a faint rose scent as Roxanne stood there composing herself enough so she could continue with her story. Once Julia was certain that Roxanne was all right again, she spoke gently to her. "What about Barnabas?"

Roxanne’s lips quivered and she winced in pain, but she was able to speak. "He…came to my bedroom one night a few weeks ago, and we—" She broke off abruptly, but Julia had already deduced what the younger woman had not said.

"He…made love to you," Julia returned softly. "Not surprising. My—brother is a very passionate man. He feels things very deeply…all too deeply for his own good sometimes, I’m afraid. So what are you trying to say?"

Roxanne squared her slender shoulders and swallowed hard; what she had to say would not be easy, but it had to be said. "I—missed my last period," she explained painfully. "I’m almost three weeks late, and I’ve always been as regular as clockwork."

"Then you’re pregnant," Julia deduced.

Roxanne nodded. "I believe so, although I’m not completely sure. But I have all the symptoms—morning sickness, bloating, weight gain, things like that. That’s why I need you to examine me to find out exactly how far along I am."

"I could do that," Julia told her. "But what do you intend to do once the pregnancy is confirmed? Tell Barnabas, go away until after the baby is born? What?"

"Oh no," Roxanne declared fearfully. "Even as much as I wish it were possible, I could never tell him and risk putting any of our lives in danger…his or the baby’s, much less my own. Valerie must never know."

Julia could just picture Valerie’s (aka Angelique’s) reaction if she ever discovered that Roxanne was pregnant with Barnabas’ child. At the very least, she would take the child away from her once it had been born, and Roxanne couldn’t bear that. The baby would be the only thing she had left of Barnabas and the love they had shared other than beautiful, bittersweet memories of their tenderly passionate night together. Roxanne would never give up the only tangible thing she had left of Barnabas. Never, never, never!! Valerie would have to kill her first.


It was roughly half an hour later that Julia completed her gynecological examination of Roxanne. "You’re right," she confirmed. "Roughly six weeks along. Was that one night the only time that you and Barnabas were…together?"

"Yes," Roxanne revealed.

"Have you decided what you’re going to do yet?" Julia wondered.

"I can’t stay with Samantha. That’s way too close to Barnabas for either our comfort or safety. What I think I’ll do is go stay with my brother Randall in New York. He’s a lawyer and recently bought a nice roomy house; he’ll take good care of me, see that I’m properly looked after."

"Do you intend to tell him the truth?"

Roxanne nodded reluctantly. "I’ll have to—but you must not tell either Samantha or Barnabas where I am. I don’t want them hurt…or trying to come after me."

"When will you leave?" asked Julia.

"As soon as I can make the arrangements," Roxanne told her. "I’ll wire Randall that I’m coming so he can get things ready for me, buy a one-way train ticket and get my trunks packed. I’ll also write you, Julia, and enclose a personal note to Barnabas in each letter. Please see that only he gets it. You can also keep Samantha and my father updated on my status…not to mention keep me updated on how Barnabas is doing."

"I will," Julia assured her. "May I at least tell Barnabas that you will be writing him through me—and vice versa?"

Roxanne nodded with a sad smile. "What do you plan to tell him regarding where and why I’ve gone? I feel sure that he’s going to ask, if not demand to know."

"That you went to visit your brother for a while, but that as your doctor, I’m not at liberty to say just where or why," Julia decided. "Barnabas is very persistent, but I think I can handle him—especially when I tell him that you told me it was best for him if he didn’t know where you were, at least for the time being. I think I’ll probably tell your sister and father that, too. What they don’t know can’t incriminate them."

After a pregnant silence, the women’s eyes met in mutual love and concern for Barnabas Collins. "Take care of him, Julia. See to it that he’s as happy as possible."

"You know it," the older woman declared. "Which reminds me…do you intend to come back after the baby’s born or make your home in New York with your brother and your child?"

"I—haven’t decided yet," Roxanne informed her. "I hope so, but it depends on what the circumstances are when the time comes."

"Let me know when you’re leaving so that you may be able to give me any last messages you may have for Barnabas, and so that I may give you some last-minute advice," Julia entreated.

"Don’t worry, I will—if only for his sake," Roxanne assured Julia. The younger woman turned for the door and hesitated there, one hand on the knob. "For the moment, simply tell Barnabas that I love him and will be in touch with him as soon as I’m settled."

Julia smiled and nodded. "Good night, my dear. Good luck, and take care."

"You, too. Thank you for your help and understanding. I can see why Barnabas is so… devoted to you. Every sister should have a brother like him."

Julia smiled and nodded again in Roxanne’s direction even as a sharp pain stabbed through her heart at the mention of Barnabas’ name…then after the other woman departed, she squared her shoulders and marched to bed after repacking her bag and turning off her bedside oil lamp. She had done all she could for Roxanne; now she would have to deal with Barnabas—and she didn’t relish the thought. Particularly if he discovered that Roxanne was gone, and especially if he ever learned just where or why she had gone.


Julia was right. Barnabas did find out, and did demand to know where Roxanne had gone and why. As she had surmised, she’d had to hand out the explanation she’d originally devised…but even though Samantha, Roxanne’s sister, and their father accepted it more-or-less readily, Barnabas did not. In fact, she was sure she would have to tranquilize him before she could tell him that Roxanne fully intended to get in touch with him ASAP.

"Why did she leave in the first place?" he demanded, only slightly mollified.

"As her doctor, I cannot tell you that without violating my confidentiality oath," Julia told him patiently. "If it would make you feel any better, her father and sister don’t know exactly why or where she’s gone, either."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Did she leave any message for me?"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot." Julia reached into her dress pocket and brought out the note Roxanne had given her for Barnabas. He opened it, tears misting his eyes as he read.

My Beloved Barnabas…

I am sorry to leave so suddenly without explaining why, but I assure you that we will not lose touch. Julia has agreed to forward my letters to you. I wish I could tell you where I’m going to be, but right now it’s best that you remain unaware of this fact. Please be assured that it hurt me deeply to leave you behind, my darling…but we will still be able to share our love through our letters.

It won’t be the same as being together physically, but it is the best we can expect for the time being. Believe me, you remain forever in my heart, never far from my thoughts. I will write again as soon as I’m settled. I already miss you almost unbearably. Take care, my precious love, and try to be happy, if only for my sake.

All my love,

Your Roxanne

Barnabas remained silent the whole time he was reading Roxanne’s note, not even looking up at Julia until he was finished—and when he did, his voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible. To hide as much emotion as possible, Julia suspected, although she didn’t call him on it.

"Does she intend to return to Collinsport or remain where she’s going?" he wondered.

"She hopes to be able to return, but only if the circumstances are favorable," Julia explained.

"I wish she could have at least told me where she was going, if not why," Barnabas lamented.

"I think she didn’t because she didn’t want you coming after her and attempting to talk her into coming back…didn’t want you to risk Valerie’s wrath if she should find out. So even as difficult as this must be for both of you, you must accept that she’s simply looking out for you, trying to spare you any unnecessary grief." Just as I would, Julia added mentally. Barnabas, why can you not see that? Why must you be so stubbornly blind?

Barnabas reluctantly nodded but didn’t deny Julia’s statements. "I suppose you’re right."

"Of course," Julia replied.

"But that doesn’t mean I have to like the idea," he added.

"No one expects you to, Barnabas, least of all me," Julia assured him. "But for now, it’s necessary, and we’ll simply have to live with it."

His lips twisted wryly but he didn’t argue. "Then you must keep me informed as to how often you hear from her."

"Don’t worry, Barnabas. If we’re careful, everything should work out."

"One can but hope," he returned morosely. "And there is little hope for me."

"Don’t talk like that," Julia admonished. "As long as there’s life—and someone who loves you—there’s always hope." She hoped that Barnabas would make the connection, that it was herself, not only Roxanne, that she was referring to…but in his present state of mind, it would not surprise her if Roxanne was the only one he could think about.

Barnabas was silent for a moment, then moved over to Julia and embraced her. For one insane moment she thought he would actually kiss her, but all he did was hug her. "Thank you, Julia. I don’t know what I would do without you."

"No need to thank me. What are friends for?"

"Yes, there is a ‘need’, Julia. Who else would endure as much as you have for me and still remain my friend?" He released her, then lifted her face to his. "I do not deserve you, Julia, any more than I deserve the love of a woman like Roxanne."

Woman? Julia thought. She is barely more than a child; almost young enough to be my daughter. As for you—She broke off in her mind. If she had any idea whatsoever what you are or how old you truly are, she would… She left the thought unfinished, preferring not to put it into words, even mental words.

No matter how much she loved Barnabas, Julia knew it wasn’t her place to dictate to him, particularly in his private life, even if he acted like he needed a keeper sometimes—particularly when his hormones were working overtime, like now. At times like this, his innate wisdom and intelligence always seemed to desert him. It’s not really his fault, Julia told herself. He’s been so lonely for so long, that when someone comes along who shows him affection and loyalty, he naturally latches onto them like a lifeline and cannot bear to let them go.

He was also a prisoner of his hormones; Julia knew that there was nothing he could do about that, even if he’d wanted to. She only wished that just once, some of his passion could have been directed toward her. Damn, but he was slow on the uptake! What was it going to take to bring him to realization? And how could someone ordinarily so intelligent be so stupidly blind to what was right before them…to what had been before them all along?

Not that she consciously meant to denigrate Roxanne, even in her own mind. As Barnabas himself had once said, one could not love at will. Love had to be freely given; otherwise one could inadvertently drive the object of their love further away, even alienate them—and however painful it was for Julia to see her beloved in love with someone else, much less have the paramour carrying his child, someone not herself—the last thing she wanted was to lose what she did have with him: a close friendship. If he was meant to be with Roxanne, then it was her duty to help facilitate that relationship in any and every way she could, whatever the emotional cost to herself. 


Roxanne was met at Grand Central, the New York train station, by her brother Randall, a noted lawyer in the area. After helping her off the train, the siblings affectionately embraced.

"Roxy, what are you doing here? Why do you need to stay with me? I just received your telegram yesterday afternoon, and came directly here after closing my office to pick you up."

"Something’s happened," was all Roxanne would say. "All I can tell you right now is that it’s something I cannot discuss with you until we’re alone." She did not speak again until they had reached his home and had sent the carriage and coachman away.

Randall carried Roxanne’s three trunks to the door while she waited for him on the porch, then once they were inside and the door closed and locked behind them, Randall Drew turned to his younger sister, sitting on a soft chair nearby. His look upon her was a mixture of question, concern and demand.

"I’ll get us each some tea," he told her. "But when I come back, I want the full story, you understand?"

Roxanne nodded, beginning to think of what she needed to say and how best to phrase it in the time her brother was ordering their tea from Emma, his motherly-looking housekeeper. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she had to do it if she expected him to help her.

Randall soon returned with the porcelain teapot on a tray, accompanied by two steaming cups of tea on saucers, the sugar and cream containers and spoons. There were even some tea cakes, which Roxanne ordinarily enjoyed, but her stomach was too queasy from morning sickness to eat anything right now. She was taking a chance as it was, just having tea.

A short time later, the young lawyer had settled himself nearby, in his own favorite chair, teacup in one hand and the saucer in the other. He gave his sister a penetrating look as he stirred a teaspoon of cream into his tea, then set the spoon onto the tray sitting on the table next to the chair. Roxanne knew that confession time had come.

"Well…it all began when I met a wonderful man," she confessed. "We met while I was walking in the garden at Collinwood while staying with Samantha, since Father was away. He told me he was Quentin Collins’ cousin from England, Barnabas. He’s at least fifteen to twenty years older than me, but we were strongly, instantly attracted to each other—so strongly, in fact, that it was almost irresistible. In addition, he came to me in my room that night around ten; he said he could stay away no longer—that he kept seeing my face and hearing my voice in his mind…but most of all, that he wanted to love me as no one else ever had…and to forgive him for his weakness, since he couldn’t stop himself. The next thing I knew, his arms were around me and we were kissing passionately…then after a while, he swept me off my feet and into his arms, carrying me to my bed and placing me on it before joining me there. I think you can guess what happened next…" Her voice trailed off as she was unable to control a deep blush.

"But you’re a— You’ve never…" Randall Drew began, unable to finish his sentences.

"Not until now," Roxanne confessed. "It was shortly after that night that I learned he was married, albeit unhappily, which was must have been one reason he was seeking love outside of his marriage. However, his wife soon found out about us and blackmailed him into living with her again—and ordered him to break off his affair with me, or else she would harm me in some way. Barnabas couldn’t risk that, so he had to give in. But that isn’t all…" Again, the young woman’s voice trailed off. "I went to the doctor shortly before I left," she began again. "And she said—"

"She?" Randall broke in.

"Barnabas’ sister Julia is a doctor. I had her examine me," Roxanne explained.

"Go on; what did she say?" her brother prompted.

"That I…I’m pregnant," Roxanne finally confessed.

There was stunned silence for a time, then Randall Drew made himself speak again. "Oh, my God. Is that why you came to me?"

"Yes."

"Does…Barnabas know that you’re carrying his child?"

Roxanne shook her head. "Julia and I agreed that it was best not to tell him, in order not to give Valerie—his wife—any ammunition against him. We also did it so both the baby and I will be protected. If Valerie found out, she might still try to make me lose it or take it away from me…and I will not allow anyone to do that. They’ll have to kill me first!"

Randall held up a hand after setting his cup and saucer aside. "Whoa, there! Peace, Roxy. No one’s going to take your baby. I won’t let them. Then you intend to stay with me until the baby is born?"

"And after, too, if possible," Roxanne added.

"So you don’t plan on returning to Collinsport?" Randall inquired, picking up his cup and taking another swallow of tea before setting it down again.

"Not for the foreseeable future, at any rate," Roxanne confirmed. "And certainly not until Julia and I both deem it safe to do so."

"How do you feel right now?"

"Physically or emotionally?" Roxanne asked, pain and bitterness edging her voice.

"Both, if you don’t mind," Randall returned gently, sensing his sister’s emotional turmoil at having been forced to leave behind her lover and the father of her unborn child. "But first, do either Father or Samantha know where you are and why you left Collinsport?"

"No; we deemed it best not to tell them, either," Roxanne informed him.

"One more question, if I may. Do you ever intend to tell Barnabas or our family about the baby?"

"As I said, as soon as we deem it safe. Right now, it’s far too much of a risk."

"To get back to the other questions—how do you feel emotionally and physically about this whole situation?" Randall finally asked.

Roxanne gave him a hard look and her eyes narrowed, but she decided to give him the truth. "Physically, I’m tired; my stomach is queasy; I feel bloated and I have a headache. Emotionally, I’m sad, angry, and lonely. I miss Barnabas almost unbearably. What else do you want me to dredge up from the depths of my soul?"

"I’m sorry, Sis. I didn’t mean to pressure you," Randall apologized. "I can imagine how you must hurt right now."

" ‘Hurt’ doesn’t begin to cover it," Roxanne countered. "But I’ve lived with it before; I can do it again. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I intend to write Barnabas and keep in touch with him. Julia has promised to deliver them to him for me—and vice versa."

"Won’t that be dangerous as well? What if his wife finds out or intercepts one of the letters from either of you?"

"We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it," Roxanne said. "Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed after I have a hot bath…and we’ll make some concrete plans for my future after I get up in the morning. "

"Whatever you say," Randall Drew conceded, not wanting to aggravate his sister’s mood any further than he already had. "Do you need help? I can send Mrs. McElroy."

"No," Roxanne told him, giving her a weary but affectionate smile. "I’ll be fine."

He escorted her to her room, where her trunks had been placed, and a roaring fire was going in the room to take the chill off of it. An oil lamp was set by the bed. After her brother left, Roxanne changed into her robe and slippers, carrying her toiletries and nightgown into the washroom with her, including the perfume Barnabas had said he liked so much.

Barnabas. Roxanne’s heart ached and her eyes filled at the thought of him as she lay in bed in her darkened room. Are you thinking of me as I think of you, yearn for me as I yearn for you? How I wish I could tell you about our baby…and how I wonder what our child will be, a boy or a girl? What will I decide to name him or her? Roxanne put her hand on her belly again, pretending it was her lover’s hand resting there.

She then lifted her nightgown above her breasts so that her body was exposed and began to rub and knead her nipples until they became hard and erect with excitement. She closed her eyes and pretended it was Barnabas’ lips gently sucking her breasts during their lovemaking. She gasped and squirmed at the pleasurable sensation as her nipples tightened further…then while one hand continued to knead one nipple, the other was wandering south until it reached the red- gold triangle between her slender legs. As time passed, Roxanne spread her legs wider in order that she could reach her hot, slick sex and the painfully sensitive nub of flesh located there.

Her erotic thoughts of her lost lover and their passionate encounter had already gotten her nearly to a fever pitch of desire; after a time, Roxanne moaned and writhed, knowing what the sweet pain in her lower body signified. She was nearing the brink even as her fingers, which she imagined to be Barnabas’ lips and tongue pleasuring her almost beyond endurance in between their couplings, of which she recalled at least two, lightly massaged her most secret place.

She also remembered vividly how his hands had felt intimately caressing her body and how incredible it had felt to feel his deliciously throbbing hardness filling her (after her initial pain, at least) as their intricately intertwined bodies had thrashed in frantic passion, unable to get enough of each other. Oh, Barnabas, Barnabas, she lamented, aching to feel her lover’s lips, hands and body even as she felt her orgasm start; her writhing increased geometrically as she moaned softly once again.

My love, if only I could feel you inside me again, feel your hands cradle my breasts, your lips and tongue suckling and licking me intimately…I doubt I shall ever feel such love or such ecstasy, not ever again. I also pray that we will be able to raise our child together for at least part of his/her life—but at this rate, it will be a miracle if we’re even able to see each other again, much less anything else. But I’m a foolish, romantic dreamer…

Her thoughts trailed off into slumber as her body quieted down, sated for the moment—but what she really needed was Barnabas. Would she ever see him, be with him and share passionate, glorious love with him again? If she could only know what her beloved was doing, thinking and feeling right now…


Valerie/Angelique had been gloating sadistically ever since she’d heard that the girl Roxanne had left Collinwood, relishing how this must have affected Barnabas once he’d learned of it. And to think that silly twit had actually dared to confront her! It was laughable. Roxanne Drew could pose no threat to her whatsoever where Barnabas was concerned. Possession was nine-tenths of the law, and he was her husband…and her husband he would remain, whatever he or anyone else tried to do to change that—for now and all time!

She was brought back to reality when Barnabas stormed into the room, his eyes staring daggers at her and his face like a thundercloud. She knew that didn’t bode well, but was ready for him. However much he might rant and rave and threaten, Barnabas couldn’t do anything to prevent her from keeping him under her thumb.

"Angelique!" His furious, thundering voice carried easily, despite the distance between them.

"In here, darling," she called back.

A moment later Barnabas strode over to her and spun her around to face him, holding her arms tightly. "What have you done?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" she returned innocently.

"You know very well what I mean," he shot back. "Roxanne is gone."

"Gone?" Once again, Angelique pretended surprise.

Barnabas glared coldly at her. "Spare me your innocent charade, Angelique." His voice was as icy as his eyes upon her. "You must have done something to prompt Roxanne’s departure."

"She left on her own. I merely stated the facts of our relationship," Angelique replied smugly.

"All you have—and all you will ever have–is my name. My heart, mind, and soul belong to Roxanne!"

"Oh, really? Don’t be a fool, Barnabas. Neither that little tart or your so-called sister, Julia, is any match for me and you know it!"

"Your evil sickens me," Barnabas bit out. "Simply being in the same room, much less the same house, with you is unbearable. And then to have you drive away the woman I love is unpardonable! Why can you not leave me in peace? Why must you force me to live with you, blackmail me into terminating my relationship with Roxanne? She never did anything but give me love and happiness…which is far more than I could ever say for the likes of you. I curse the day you ever crossed my path, rue the day I ever set eyes upon you!"

"I assure you, my dear husband, that you are much better off without either Roxanne or Julia."

"I frankly think you’re afraid of both Roxanne and Julia, because they represent everything you can never, and will never, be. Will you never learn that you may force me to do your bidding, but that you cannot command love from me? Marriage to you was, and is, Hell on earth for me!"

Angelique went white with fury but did not deny it. Despite her earlier denial, Barnabas was still certain that she had something to do with Roxanne’s leaving. His poor darling could not have left Collinsport voluntarily.

"Where did Roxanne go?" he demanded. "You will tell me, or feel my hands around your throat!"

"So feisty, my darling," Angelique responded silkily, although Barnabas sensed the venom underlying her words. "I always found you most irresistible when you were feisty! As for your precious Roxanne, she left on her own, as I told you. She told no one where she was going or why, not even her own family, so how could I possibly know where she is?"

"You have your ways." Ice again edged Barnabas’ voice. "I put nothing past you, Angelique. Nothing whatsoever!"

"Well, this time I had nothing to do with it," Angelique insisted. "Whatever you choose to believe, I am telling you the truth!"

"Then you truly have no idea where Roxanne is or why she left." Barnabas seemed incredulous even as he sensed his wife’s sincerity.

"None," Angelique reiterated, sincere for once. "However, I do know that she and Julia were spotted speaking privately together shortly before she left. If anyone knows where Roxanne is, I suspect it’s Julia…but being a doctor, I doubt you’ll be able to get anything out of her without hypnotizing her or something." Valerie/Angelique gave her erstwhile spouse an evil, knowing smile. "But then you’ve always been marvelous at hypnotizing poor, helpless women so that they’ll do your bidding. I was but one of many who succumbed to your—fatal charms." She laughed wickedly.

Barnabas clenched his fists in impotent rage, but knew he could do nothing against her… for now. But one day, he vowed silently. One day, I swear I will find some way to destroy that woman and send her back to Hell, where she belongs!

The silence between them grew so long that Valerie/Angelique spoke up. "If you have nothing further to say, dear husband, I would like to return to the Old House now—and I expect to see you there at a reasonable hour."

"Go! The sooner you remove yourself from my sight, the better!" Barnabas’ innate politeness and charm were non-existent in the face of his intense hatred of his witch-wife. "And I will be there…but I will not tell you where I’ve been. Because of what you’ve done to me, you’ve forfeited any rights you ever had as a wife and thus are entitled to nothing but my name, financial support and physical company to a limited extent. But that’s it." His voice was quiet but emphatic.

"Very well, my husband," Angelique returned sweetly, but with an ominous undertone. "I can live with that… as long as you never forget that you are mine—and will remain so for as long as you live!" With that, the beautiful, blonde and deadly woman in period clothing flounced out of the room.

Barnabas sighed with relief, glad beyond words to know that Angelique was finally gone. His heart ached at the thought of Roxanne’s departure. It was bad enough that Angelique had forced him to give up Roxanne without holding her life hostage in the bargain. Why had Roxanne not let anyone know where or why she had gone? What possible reason could she have had for doing such a thing?

Would he ever know, and would he ever see her again…ever hold, touch and kiss her again? The only thing he had left was her promise to write Julia, and it would be an eternity until she wrote again—and she had to write again. How could he stand it otherwise? He sat down on the nearby couch and curled up there, both physically and emotionally exhausted as he found himself drifting off into a romantic yet erotic dream of his lost love a short time later upon making a mental note to write her back at the first opportunity.

Oh, my precious, where can you be? he lamented. Why did you leave me? I miss you so; I need you, I hunger for you…to kiss your sweet lips, caress your silky, fragrant skin, feel myself inside you, your beautiful arms and long, slender legs wrapped around me…

He pulled the afghan from the back of the couch in the parlor and arranged it over himself upon finding himself intensely, even painfully aroused, before proceeding to loosen his clothing to satisfy himself as best he could. All he had to do was remember Roxanne, how she had looked and acted during their delightfully pleasurable interludes.


Of course, this wasn’t the first time such a thing had occurred. Roxanne’s next letter prompted much the same reaction in Barnabas, just as his response triggered an answering one in her.

My beloved…

Are you thinking of me as I think of you, yearn for me as I yearn for you? I miss you so, my darling. I miss the touch of your hands caressing my body, the sweetness and passion of your kisses, the feel of your arms around me–but most of all, I miss feeling you inside me. If only I could feel your body possessing mine once again, your hands cradling my breasts, your lips and tongue kissing and caressing me intimately.

I doubt I shall ever feel such love or ecstasy ever again. But at this rate, it will be a miracle if we’re even able to see each other again, much less anything else. But I’m a foolish, romantic dreamer; I am even childish enough to believe in miracles. But there is nothing childish about my feelings for you. You are the only man who has ever made me feel like a real woman, yet I can’t help wondering if I’ll ever be able to see you or be with you again.

Please tell me what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling, my love—and I’ll tell you what I’m doing, thinking and feeling. I pray that things will change soon and that we won’t have to be apart any more. Until then, we have only our letters to keep us close in heart and mind, however far apart we may be physically.

Write back as soon as you can, my darling. I live for the days I receive your passionate, beautiful letters. I love you, my precious Barnabas, and will always remain…

 Your Roxanne

Barnabas’ reply to her five days later was along much the same lines.

My dearest Roxanne,

It was wonderful to hear from you, but do you not realize what you are doing to me by such provocative talk? I can scarcely tolerate being apart from you as it is. I can understand why you’re doing it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to endure the arousal it engenders in me.

Precious one, why will you not tell me where you are or why you left? Is there something you are trying to conceal from me, or are you still trying to protect us from something or someone (my wife, for instance)? If so, I would feel much better if we could do such things together, instead of being so far apart, unable to touch.

But no amount of distance will keep us apart emotionally. At the same time, I miss you almost unbearably, Roxanne. Please come home, my love. Home--back to me, my arms, my heart and my life.

Yours forever,
Barnabas

Over the course of the next several months, Julia basically kept Roxanne informed of how Barnabas was doing and feeling—and she never invaded their privacy, simply acted as courier for the forcibly separated lovers, who on the average, wrote every week…as often as they dared. She was glad to hear that Roxanne had found a good Doctor and that her pregnancy was progressing normally (she was now five months along and actually looking pregnant)…and that she wasn’t experiencing anything she shouldn’t be, symptoms-wise.

Julia also kept Roxanne’s family informed of how she was doing, although she rarely offered details beyond the answers to the basic health and happiness questions. It wasn’t easy keeping her silence, but for the sake of both Barnabas and his paramour’s family, Julia knew that she must. She especially didn’t want to think of the consequences if Valerie found out about Roxanne’s pregnancy. Of course, there would be a scandal if Roxanne’s family found out, but their reactions and emotions in the matter would be far easier to live with.


Neither was it easy for Randall Drew to keep his silence on the subject of his younger sister’s unexpected pregnancy, but he had surmised that it wasn’t something she cared to discuss at length or in any detail—and he respected her privacy. He could only hope that this Barnabas Collins was willing to take responsibility for his child after its birth, if not before…in spite of his marriage, however unhappy. Otherwise he, Randall, might not have any choice but to risk the wrath of not only his sister but Valerie Collins by suing Barnabas for child support.

The man could have visitation rights if he wished, but only if he came to where Roxanne was to do it. This would be done not only to protect him, but Roxanne and their child. Yet all that was in the future. For now, all Randall Drew could do was make sure Roxy had the best of care during her pregnancy and all the support he could give her—as well as be there when she needed someone to lean on in what was likely to be some of the toughest times of her life, both before and after the baby was born.


Of course, one can guess how Julia Hoffman was feeling personally about all this, particularly about Roxanne’s pregnancy. Certainly May-December marriages between much-older men and younger women weren’t exactly commonplace, but they weren’t unheard of, either. Even if a miracle happened and Barnabas actually married her (Julia), it would still be the May-December marriage to end all May-December marriages. Of course, many times May-December marriages worked out just fine, although Julia didn’t want to think about that, particularly when it came to Barnabas and Roxanne. Even now she still held out a slim hope that circumstances would change in her favor.

Barnabas didn’t look to be any more than in his 40s, having aged only slightly due to several brief reversions back to Human over the years--and not at all as a vampire. Only now had he begun to age normally since she had managed to perfect her serum to end his curse. She herself was in her mid-40s, which was about right if you judged by outward appearances…but all his true contemporaries were long dead. At her age, she would be able to have maybe one child—and that was if she took care of herself.

Roxanne, on the other hand, was approximately in her mid-twenties, prime child-bearing age. Still, at the very least, she was young enough to have been a daughter to Julia herself or a granddaughter several times over to Barnabas, at least technically. The phrase "robbing the cradle " wasn’t precise, but was as close as she could come to describing the age gap between Barnabas and Roxanne.

After having been denied marriage and children with Josette, Julia seriously doubted that Barnabas would turn down this chance to make up for lost time, provided that Valerie/Angelique could be effectively dealt with. And being an old-fashioned man, which was quite understandable when considering the fact that he had grown up and come of age in the 18th century, Barnabas would naturally think of marriage and children upon developing deep feelings for a woman—particularly one like Roxanne. It would also be second nature to him to "make an honest woman" of Roxanne at the first opportunity—as soon as decently possible, and as soon as he discovered that she was to bear him a child.

Of course, Julia prayed it wouldn’t happen, since she wanted to be the one to bear Barnabas a child…a natural desire, given her own feelings for him. But it just wasn’t realistic to expect him to choose her, who could offer him only one child at best, in stark contrast to Roxanne, who could bear him several. As many as he liked, in fact—and who, even now, was carrying his first. She was currently roughly halfway through her pregnancy and had only recently been obliged to go shopping for more maternity dresses and baby things.

In her last letter she’d confessed that she’d had no idea just how much a baby needed simply to go through his/her first year of life. It was fortunate that she had arranged to have her allowance from her father sent to her via Julia–a generous check came from J. Leonard Drew every month…and most of this month’s (September’s) funds had been used for the aforementioned purposes. Ironic that neither he nor Samantha could know that within a matter of months, Roxanne would make them a grandfather and aunt respectively.

Roxanne had been living in New York with her brother since mid-April; her child was due in mid-December. She had become pregnant around the first of March, 1840. Of course, once Barnabas learned of his impending fatherhood, he would not only feel obligated but insist on offering Roxanne financial assistance in raising the child—mainly because he had always been taught never to shirk his responsibilities.

She had already decided to allow him visitation rights, updated daguerreotypes (photos) and perhaps even "conjugal visits" of a sort…once he learned of her pregnancy—and her whereabouts. Perhaps she could even be something like a common-law wife, if nothing else, and it was possible that he could disguise his visits (at least some of them) as business trips to New York for the Collins family corporation, trips which usually lasted several days, sometimes as long as a week.

However, there could be no easily discernable pattern or length to the trips or else Valerie/Angelique would surely deduce what was going on—and at all costs, Julia and Barnabas would know that that scenario must never happen if Roxanne and the child were to remain safe. At the moment, however, all that could be done was to continue the secret correspondence between the lovers during their enforced separation, the tone of the letters remaining tenderly passionate, whatever their length.

Each was glad that they had a fairly recent daguerreotype of their paramour, which they kept well-hidden…along with their letters to one another—except when they were alone. Both usually carried the latest missive with them everywhere until the next one came, then it went into the secret hiding place that only they (and Julia) knew about…then the pattern repeated itself. If the pregnancy continued to go well, both Julia and Roxanne had agreed to tell Barnabas about the child approximately a month before her due date; it was at that point that they all would decide the best thing to do, including deciding names for the child and such. Until such time, the status quo would be maintained, for the sake of everyone concerned.


As fate would have it, Barnabas had to do just that within a month, approximately mid-October. He had been sent to negotiate with a particularly difficult client; Quentin had believed that if anyone could talk this man around, it would be Barnabas, with his Old World charm and knack for diplomacy par excellence.

He arrived at New York’s Grand Central Station at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, October 15, 1840, by coincidence riding the same exact train as Roxanne had. He had also taken a stagecoach to Bangor—also, as she had—to catch the train to New York there. Upon arrival, he headed straight for his hotel and his room on the seventh floor of the Waldorf-Astoria and left a message at the desk that he intended to meet with the client at 8:30 a.m. the following morning.

He bathed and dressed, then took a walk down Broadway, deciding to pick up a copy of the New York Times, when he caught a familiar voice—an achingly familiar voice. Could it actually be…? He turned around quickly; a handsome couple was coming toward him, dressed in evening clothes. The woman was obviously pregnant–Barnabas guessed about six months along, although he was no medical expert. (Julia could probably have told him exactly.)

The man with the woman was very solicitous of her, treating her like she was fine porcelain. He noticed, too, that she was very beautiful, with alabaster skin and fiery red hair, just like Roxanne’s… He felt a stab of pain in his heart at the thought of her. Roxanne, my precious one. I miss you so, he couldn’t help thinking, just before he looked up and got the shock of his life.

It was Roxanne! But how could she possibly be pregnant? Had she gotten married on the rebound after they had been forced to break up? He couldn’t have blamed her if she had. Was the man with her her husband…and if not, who was he?

"Roxanne!" he called out.

Her head shot up, and for a moment he saw equal amounts of stunned surprise, great happiness and stark fear on her face all at once. "Barnabas! How can it be you?" she exclaimed. Then something—neither had any idea what—compelled them into each other’s arms. They kissed deeply, passionately, as if each were starved for the other…which they were. Neither seemed to care that they were on a public street; all that mattered was being in each other’s arms again.

"Roxanne, Roxanne…my darling, my darling…" he murmured over and over between kisses.

"Barnabas…oh, my precious love," she crooned. "I’ve missed you so!"

It was some time before the lovers got enough strength to stop kissing and release each other—and even then, Barnabas kept a possessive arm around her.

"Roxanne, so this is where you’ve been all these months! Why could you not have told me? I’ve been imagining all manner of things happening to you!"

Roxanne lifted a hand to her lover’s face and smiled lovingly. "I couldn’t stay, beloved," she explained. "Not after what your wife said…"

"I cannot blame you for leaving," he replied. "But why could you not at least have told me where you were going, if not why? And how can you be pregnant? Have you gotten married on the rebound? Is the man with you your husband?"

"I can’t explain everything here, Barnabas," Roxanne told him. "But I will tell you this much." She gestured to Randall, who stepped up to join her. "This is Randall…" Her voice trailed off. "…my brother," she finished. "He has been looking after me; I’ve been living with him since I moved here."

"If you aren’t married, then who is your baby’s father?" he almost demanded.

"Not here," she bit out, uncomfortable since they were now the center of too much unwelcome attention. "Come, join us for dinner." She held out her hand to him. "I’ll tell you everything then." He once again put an arm around her waist; Randall Drew flanked her on her other side.

A short time later the trio entered "21", a classy nightclub, which also offered dinners… but advance reservations were required, and Randall had made them a month before. It was possible to get in without a reservation, but one had to pay extra for the privilege—although paying guests were included in the reservation on the word of the person who had made it.

The nattily dressed maitre’d approached them; Randall spoke grandly. "Drew, party of three," he said. "I made a reservation a month ago."

"Yes, monsieur," the man replied, his French accent thick and pronounced. "Your name is on our list. Follow me."

As soon as they were seated at their reserved table, Randall Drew smiled and said, "I now believe introductions are in order."

"Oh, I’m sorry," Roxanne apologized. "This is Barnabas Collins, Randall. He’s the one I told you about."

"How do you do, Mr. Collins," Randall returned politely. "I’ve heard a lot about you."

"All good, I hope," Barnabas answered with a smile, equally polite, still holding Roxanne’s hand unobtrusively under the table.

"Basically," Randall replied. "Except for the fact that you’re married."

Barnabas became solemn. "Yes. I’m sorry. I assure you, I never meant to deceive Roxanne, not for a moment—but my wife and I had been estranged for many months before she returned unexpectedly back in April, shortly after…Roxanne and I had met and—fallen in love." He tightened his hold on her hand; she smiled tenderly and returned it. "I was…obliged to break off the relationship since my wife wished a reconciliation."

"It must have been—very painful for you," Randall remarked.

"Excruciating," Roxanne declared before Barnabas could reply.

"Amen," Barnabas finally agreed. "Unfortunately, my wife is a very jealous, paranoid woman, and threatened to harm Roxanne if we did not terminate the relationship. I could not risk that. I…deeply regret any pain Roxanne has been caused, Mr. Drew."

"Randall," the younger man corrected. " ‘Mr. Drew’ is our father."

"…Randall," Barnabas started again. "As I said, I deeply regret causing Roxanne any pain—but I had no idea that my wife, Valerie, had any intention of—pursuing a reconciliation. However, I am still…deeply in love with Roxanne in spite of that, and wish to continue my correspondence with her."

"What about your wife?"

"I have no wish to reconcile with her—and I told her so," Barnabas declared. "Not since I met and fell in love with Roxanne…but at the same time, I—cannot divorce her. If it were in my power, I would do so in a moment, but she would…never accept it."

"So what is there left to do?" Randall Drew remarked before continuing his meal.

Barnabas spoke before continuing his own meal and directing Roxanne to continue hers. "I—also intend to come here to visit her as often as I can, since I must make periodic business trips to New York. It must be planned carefully, of course, but it is within the realm of possibility that I can manage it so that my wife does not learn of either the trips or Roxanne’s whereabouts."

"How have you been able to continue your correspondence?" Randall Drew wondered.

"My…sister Julia is acting as—go-between, forwarding our letters to one another," Barnabas explained.

"Roxy mentioned her. She’s a doctor, I believe…and she diagnosed my sister’s pregnancy."

"Yes," Barnabas confirmed. "Which brings me to my next question."

"Which is?" Randall Drew prompted.

"Whose child is Roxanne carrying? Can it–possibly be…mine?" Barnabas guessed.

"What do you think?" Roxanne put in. "How many times I ached to tell you, my darling. I knew it would make you the happiest man in the world to know that you were going to be a father, yet I could not risk telling you for fear of repercussions should your wife—Valerie—find out. Please forgive me for deceiving you, beloved, but I…felt I had no choice if I were going to–protect you and our child."

Barnabas’ dark eyes softened, glowing with love as he turned to look at Roxanne and smile, touching her cheek. "There is nothing to forgive you for, my precious. You did what you felt best for all concerned." He gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment, then spoke again. "I’m going to be a father!" he proclaimed happily. "To think you took such a risk for my sake," he murmured softly, with great tenderness. "I don’t know what to say."

Roxanne’s eyes misted with tears. "Don’t say anything, Barnabas. Just never stop loving me."

"Never," her lover vowed.

"Ah-hum!" Randall Drew broke in. "The food’s getting cold, you two—and this place is too expensive for us to send it back uneaten."

Both of the couple smiled sheepishly and blushed; Randall only smiled understandingly and they finished their meals. After they left the restaurant, Roxanne clung closely to Barnabas; his arms remained firmly, protectively around her, one hand occasionally resting briefly on the swell of her belly that was their child and periodically kissing the top of her silky head.

"Randall, would it be…permissible for me to—take Roxanne to my hotel room? I—have missed her almost unbearably, and we have…a lot of—lost time to make up for." He looked entreatingly at his beloved’s brother. "I promise you, I will return her safely to your home."

Randall Drew sensed Barnabas’ sincerity and nodded. "Of course. I understand. Good night, you two." He stepped into the nearby coach and settled into it, then gave the coachman directions and sped off into the night.

After Randall was gone, Roxanne looked up at Barnabas and squeezed him. "I didn’t think I would ever have you in my arms again, beloved. I can scarcely believe you’re really here."

"Nor did I ever expect to have you in my arms again," Barnabas agreed, squeezing Roxanne gently. "Oh, my love! I have missed you so." He once again pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "And now to find out that you’re going to bear me a child…" His voice trailed off. "I can’t help thinking that this has to be a dream. You can’t possibly be here; I cannot possibly be this happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life."

Roxanne again raised a hand to his cheek and smiled. "I’m real, my darling. All too real—and I love you so much."

Barnabas soon found himself becoming intensely aroused. He and Roxanne had been apart for so long; he needed, hungered to possess her again, love her again…pregnant or not. "Roxanne—my precious one, I need you so…I hunger for you. Will you—stay with me tonight?" he entreated.

"Yes, beloved. Yes!" she declared.

A moment later he called for another coach, and joined Roxanne after carefully, lovingly helping her into it…then as soon as the door was closed, he gave the coachman their destination. After that, he gave his full attention to Roxanne, the couple only occasionally coming up for air as the reunited lovers kissed and caressed hungrily, intimately, passionately—almost literally devouring one another.

They only reluctantly broke apart upon arriving at the hotel, clung to one another upon getting out of the coach, then into the hotel and elevator…and lastly, down the hall and into his 7th floor suite. Once the door was carefully locked behind them, all that mattered was loving one another, here and now.

Go to: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


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