Abiding Love: The Strength of Two Hearts

By Jean Dion

Thomas and Jean are back! They are back with a romance that started on a computer keyboard in their first novel Love at my Fingertips, and which comes to fruition in this new novel: Abiding Love: The strength of two hearts-and strength you will find!

The reader will be drawn into more mystery, murder and romance along with the first book's graphic details of love, lust, suspense and intrigue. You will feel the devastating events and be led into a climax of two people in love, destined to be with each other.

This thriller-romance will touch your very heart and soul as never before! It's a love story that is full of surprises!

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 30, 2003
• ISBN: 9781469723860

Jean Dion

The author Jean Dion is unashamedly a romanticist?yearning for the ultimate romance. Never having found a true romance of her own, she decided to write one straight from her heart and soul and wrote Love at My Fingertips, a book that expressed her innermost thoughts. In this sequel she shows how that romance will exceed time itself, in a love that is eternal.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Thomas ran his fingers through his unruly brown hair. He looked distinguished with the hint of gray near the temples, though he was not yet forty. His gray blue eyes lit up as he flashed his crooked smile.

Jean Honey, he said in his soft British accent. You don’t have to work anymore, you know.

He had got everything ready to head back to London, England, to tie up loose ends and look for another house that he and Jean could live in for six months out of the year. As an editor and publishing agent who worked through the Internet he could run his business from any first-world country—and where better than for six months in London and six months with Jean in her own country, America, with it’s overwhelmingly large catchment area of potential authors?

When Jean smiled she looked foxy, a look Thomas loved to encourage.

What do you mean? she said, contracting her brows so that her smile looked piquant as well as foxy. With her soft milky skin and fine blonde hair reaching below her shoulders, she wasn’t bad looking for 36. Only just over 5’3 with full thighs and well-proportioned calves that tapered to dainty feet, she was delicate yet sumptuous, especially with her generous breasts that made Thomas very aware of her feminine charms. What he loved most about her, however, was her elegance, her refined dress sense and what he called her smashing accent. When she stood up he was aware of the little suggestion of an excess of padding under her stomach—an excess which he liked since, as he said, it made her cuddly, for he disliked the anorexic slenderness of catwalk models. She swept back her hair as she sat down next to him on the couch where he had been sipping his bourbon, putting down her glass of white wine on the coffee table. But of course I do, honey—how else will we make ends meet? And besides, I want to buy a real pretty dress to get married in. So I have to save lots of money, right?" Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled.

Mmm, Thomas mumbled, shifting her hair back so he could brush his lips against her soft white neck. You don’t understand, honey. I have plenty of money put away—enough so that even I don’t have to work; but I like editing books so I continue to work. And if it weren’t for you having engaged me as your editor we’d never have met!

Good point, Thomas, sighed Jean, relaxing under the tantalizing contact of his silky lips on her neck. She felt goosebumps spread across her body. Wine always made her feel horny and the persistent and delicate flicker of Thomas’s tongue against her neck and earlobes didn’t help at all. But what am I supposed to do with all my time if I’m not working? Oh honey…, she giggled, pulling away, you know that turns me on!

Thomas tried to look serious. Ah! Finally you ask. His hand crept round her shoulders and began to tease her other ear. I have something for you to do, sweetheart, and I have an account all fixed up for you to work from.

An account? asked Jean.

Yes, a bank account, said Thomas. First I want you to have money to live on, and second I want you to have plenty of money to find a house that we can live in for the other six months out of the year. You need to get it all fixed up to whatever standard you like while I do the same thing in London.

But you already own a house in London, honey, said Jean, beginning to melt as she succumbed to Thomas’s gentle stroking. His fingers had dipped down over her blouse to her breast where they were tracing a circle around the mound formed by her nipple. She snuggled closer against him. Oh, Thomas…, she moaned.

The house I live in now, Thomas went on as if unaware of the excruciating pleasure he was imparting to Jean, is the one that I shared with Merle, my ex-wife.

Oh, I see, said Jean, snapping out of her cocoon of sleepy pleasure. The thought pierced her heart that she had never known the name of his ex-wife. The term ‘ex-wife’ sounded so much better, but now she had a name and it took her by surprise that she reacted the way she did.

So you see why I’d just as soon get a different house? Once it’s ready, I’ll sell the other one. Okay love?

Okay, said Jean, feeling a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Thomas was going back to the house he had shared with a woman called Merle, to live there again for a while. She remembered that Thomas had told her that his ex-wife was all over him when his brother died—and thought she could get him back after running off with his best friend!

Now there’s something else I want you to do, Jean, Thomas said. And without giving Jean a chance to respond, he went on, I want you to keep writing.

She sighed, settling back against him, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers tighten over her nipple through the material of her blouse. I can’t write, Thomas.

Oh yes, you can. His lips kissed the silky crown of her head. You have a natural talent. There’s a certain flare about your writing. Promise me that you will continue with the love story that you and I have been writing.

Our love story? Jean’s blue eyes opened and sparkled with excitement.

Yes, Thomas crooned. You can pick up right where you left off and I’ll help just like we were doing before I came to the States.

Wow! You think we could do that?

I don’t see why not, Thomas smiled. We can email each other every day, just like we were doing before, but only until the houses are ready; then we can finish the story together on our honeymoon!

Thomas, exclaimed Jean, clasping his exploring hand in her own. You naughty boy—you know the sort of stuff we wrote about!

Yes—isn’t it great! He grinned. Just think, it will thicken the plot and give us even more to look forward to.

She giggled, looking up at him. I can see those hungry eyes of yours again, and I love it! Then she frowned. But Thomas, I’ll miss you so much. I’ve waited so long to have someone in my life—and now that I have you, you’re leaving.

He bent down so his lips could touch her cheek. Don’t forget I’ve waited for a long time too, Jean. And I’m not about to lose you. Now chin up, girl, give me one of those kisses that will last me. You know which one, honey, the one where I can taste your sweetness and you always leave me with wanting more!

Their lips met and they melted together. As always she felt as though falling through space when they kissed those long, lingering kisses, and became dimly aware of his hand sliding further down her body.

Thomas, she whispered.

Yes, honey?

Your hand…it’s sliding up my dress.

Mmmm, I know…, he murmured, aware of the soft texture of her inner thigh on his hand. It was like electric silk and made his desire swell more urgently than ever. The burning desire felt uncomfortable in the tight confines of his underpants.

I thought you wanted this relationship to be all prim and proper? Jean said, her lips fluttering against his. She drew away enough to look dreamily into his eyes, smiling piquantly. Let’s see, what is it that you said? I want to save your delicious body for our wedding night?

I do, love, he smiled back. I’m just so darn hungry for you. He loved the way her eyebrows flared upwards. It gave her smile a mischievous look.

I know, said Jean. I can feel the hardness of your appetite…! Her hand momentarily touched his crotch—a butterfly touch that made his heart miss a beat.

Another kiss, baby, give me another kiss, he said, his lips seeking out hers and they melted into each other’s arms for that last goodbye. When he pulled away his eyes were damp and she was smiling through her tears.

I love your cheeky smile, he said.

What—you mean my cheeks are fat?

No, silly—it’s your eyes, and those pixie eyebrows of yours. You look mischievous. I’m going to miss your cheeky smile. He smiled crookedly.

I’ll miss you, she whispered. Honey, it’s only an hour and a half to your check in time, you know.

Then Jean watched sadly as Thomas stood up and picked up his briefcase. His luggage was already packed in her car. She stood up with a heavy heart, straightened her skirt, and picked up her car keys.

Later that day Jean found herself sitting on the same bench that Thomas had written about in the last scene of their love story just before he left on account of being called away. His brother was dying of cancer and didn’t have much time left. So he broke it off with Jean by telling her that he had to go back to England. It was just too painful for Thomas to fit it into the story and Jean had no idea that that was the reason he wrote what he did. All she knew was the fact that he was walking away from her with no hope of the love story ever continuing.

Little did she realize then that she would be watching him again for real this time—walking away but with no tears of unhappiness, just the tears that come from lovers parting—and with the joy of knowing that when they were reunited they would spend the rest of their lives together!

CHAPTER 2

A couple of days had gone by and Jean was waiting for the first email to come in from Thomas. He had told her that he would have to ‘clean out’ his computer first, as he put it, for on account of the amount of time he had been away he would be overwhelmed with emails. Jean understood, but was still aching to hear from him and wasn’t able to concentrate on anything until she found out that he was safe and sound.

And there it was! The first email from Thomas! She couldn’t wait to open it and read it.

Hi Honey, she read. I’m here and all put back together again. Remember when I told you that my plants would all be dead? Well, I don’t have any idea why, but they look beautiful! Someone must have noticed that I wasn’t taking care of them so decided to take care of them for me. I’ll have to make sure I find out who it was so I can thank them.

Is everything okay with you, honey? I miss you so much; this is going to be a lot tougher than I thought it would be. I’m going to find a house as soon as possible and get it fixed up. I don’t think I’ll last too long being separated from you.

Love, Thomas.

Jean smiled the whole time while reading his email. Then she replied:

I’m glad that I’m not the only one missing someone! This was your idea, honey. So we will just have to make the best of it. But I’ll tell you one thing—I’m not going to waste any time in looking for a house and getting it furnished either. I want you back here!

Love, Jean

P.S. I’m glad that your plants are all okay. I know how much they mean to you.

Thomas felt reassured after reading Jean’s reply. Now he could settle down and do whatever had to be done to get back to her. He answered her email by telling her that he had been reading the love story that she had been writing and realized it was going to have to be him that would have to write the next piece in the story in order to revise the way that he had ended it.

As he read the words that he had written, he couldn’t believe just how cruel he was to have made love to Jean in the story only to have her drive him to the airport without any warning to her and just leave with only a brief kiss and words like, it was nice being with you! How awful Jean