Eight Months Later
“She looks like an Elizabeth,” said Stuart, looking critically at the baby he held in his arms.
“Her name is Elizabeth Stuart Adams,” Angel said. “And with her eyes turning a bright, sparkling blue, it’s easy to see that she’s every bit a member of your family.”
“Agreed, but I wish we had named our first daughter after you.”
“We’ll name our next daughter after me,” Angel said, gazing at them fondly. Behind them, a big picture window overlooked the vista of Halos Island’s pink sand beach; gulls spiraled and dipped overhead. Stuart had insisted on building this enormous new house to replace the demolished bungalow. The new house had five bedrooms and four inside bathrooms, adjoining offices for Stuart and Angel, and a huge master bedroom. Every room featured an ocean view. It had been completed barely in time for Elizabeth’s birth two weeks ago.
“What if our next baby is a boy?” Stuart asked, kissing the top of Elizabeth’s head.
“Don’t ask me. I’m still trying to name all those kittens.”
Two of Caloosa’s half-grown first litter napped at the foot of the big king-size bed, kneading the blankets with their six-toed feet; Caloosa herself purred in a box in the closet, nursing her second litter. The strapping big tomcat, who had providentially washed ashore in the storm in time to assuage Caloosa’s lust, snoozed on a ledge outside the window, the proud patriarch of a many-catted clan.
Stuart sat down beside Angel and transferred Elizabeth to her arms. Angel opened her gown and put the baby to her breast, watching the tiny rosebud lips root at her nipple until the milk began to flow. Angel’s gold wedding band, as beautiful and as suitable as Stuart had said it would be, gleamed on her finger. She was so happy, so content. Soon she would resume her research with the bees, and Stuart would design custom-built sailing yachts for his wealthy friends, working from his office in the house. Life could not be more perfect.
Stuart slid an arm around her shoulders. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Angel? And how much I love you? Do you have any idea?” he asked.
She looked up at her husband, her heart in her eyes. He had always made her feel beautiful. And womanly. And loved.
“Show me,” she said, and he kissed her, and it was the way it always was between them, exciting and wonderful and very, very sweet.
“How long before I can make love to you properly?” he asked, nuzzling her cheek.
“A few more weeks,” she said. She was as eager as he was to resume their love life.
“Promise you won’t keep it a secret? Promise you’ll let me know when it’s time?” His eyes danced, and he smiled down at her.
She loved him so much. Loving him, desiring him as she did, she wanted to make love with him as soon as possible, wanted to fill their beautiful new house with cats and kids and happiness.
“Oh, I’ll let you know, all right. Bee-lieve it,” she said, and she kissed him once again.