Honey's Farm Read Online Free PDF Page B

birds were singing so sweetly, it was a perfect day, and suddenly Fon desired her husband desperately.
    She handed Patrick a crust from the loaf, and the small boy chewed on it contentedly. ‘There’s a good boy. Fon will give you a drink of milk when we get home.’
    After a time, the silence and the heat told on the boy, and Patrick abandoned his crust and snuggled down in the grass, his eyes heavy with sleep.
    â€˜Why don’t you teach Patrick to call you his mammy?’ Jamie said quietly. ‘After all, you are the only mother he will ever know.’
    Fon looked into her husband’s eyes questioningly. ‘But you wouldn’t want him to forget Katherine,’ she answered quickly, saying the name with difficulty.
    He chewed in silence for a full minute, his brow furrowed, his eyes turned away from her. He seemed to be weighing his words before answering. ‘No, not altogether, but when we have other children we don’t want Pat feeling the odd man out, do we?’
    â€˜I suppose not.’ Fon felt the hot colour rush into her cheeks, but when Jamie turned to her and searched her face for any clue to her feelings, she held his gaze. He smiled slowly, and, leaning over, kissed her lips. His mouth became urgent, and he drew her closer; she fitted into his arms as though she had always been there.
    Why hadn’t she been the first woman in his life, his first love, Fon thought, with a dipping of her heart. She resented what Katherine had with Jamie, even though she knew it was wrong and wicked of her. But if there had been no first wife, if Katherine had not existed, then there would be no ghosts between them.
    â€˜Patrick has fallen asleep, look,’ Jamie whispered. The boy was spread out on the sweet grass, his chubby fists above his head; his lashes, brushing the plump cheeks, were gleaming in the sunlight. For a long moment Fon watched the little boy, the soft rise and fall of his breathing, the way his hair hung back from his face. She loved him fiercely; no-one could have loved Patrick more, not even Katherine.
    Jamie’s hands were upon her then, gently pushing Fon backwards so that she was lying in the sweet grass. A blade tickled her cheek and Fon smiled, all gloomy thoughts dispelled. She was here now, with Jamie. She looked up into his face and knew the haze of passion that etched lines into his features.
    He looked down at her for a long moment, at the relaxed abandonment of her body, and then he stretched himself alongside her, his face close to her own.
    His hand traced the outline of her breasts with feather-light touch, and she felt her nipples harden with desire. Her breathing became ragged, and she knew she must possess Jamie here, under the hot sun, with the scent of clover in his hair, and sweet grasses as their bed.
    She wound her arms around him and felt the heat of his skin through his thin shirt. ‘I love you,’ she said shyly as, slowly and deliberately, she began to unbutton her bodice. He bent and kissed her breasts and she felt herself respond, lifting herself towards him, wanting to feel him within her.
    She closed her eyes, and hot, orange particles of light dazzled her senses. She was aware of Jamie’s fingers, as though in a dream, as he teased her to screaming point, his mouth hot on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs.
    â€˜I want you, Jamie,’ she said thickly, and she heard his words sighing through the air like a soft prayer.
    â€˜And
I
want
you,
colleen.’ He took her roughly, with abandon that she had not known before. He plundered her, and she welcomed it, she clung to him, her fingers digging into his back, the skin silk and sun-hot beneath her fingers. They seemed to battle to possess each other as if neither of them could get close enough. Fon closed her eyes and felt the hot sun against her lids, her bare breasts, her thighs, and the world seemed full of light and sensation. This was what she had been born