Loving by Danielle Steel Page B

theater or in the daytime if Ivo could get away. He never had enough of her, and there were times when he wanted to share her with no one at all. He was lavish with his time, his attention, his affection, and his praise. Bettina was secure in his love. It was like the culmination of a long, happy dream.
    She smiled at herself in the delicate black lace dress. It seemed to drift around her like a soft cloud, and she arranged the folds of her skirt before she zipped what little fabric there was in the back. It left her shoulders and arms and back bare, dwindled her waist to almost nothing, and floated up toward her throat, where it clasped with one hook around her neck. It looked like the sort of dress for which only one or two severed threads could have been disastrous, but there was no danger of that, the dress was exquisitely made. Checking the diamond earrings again and glancing at the smooth knot of hair, she squinted at her reflection with a small smile of excitement. "Not bad for an old broad," she whispered softly and grinned.
    "Hardly that, my love." She turned in surprise. She hadn't seen her husband smiling at her from the doorway.
    "Sneaky. I didn't hear you come in."
    "I didn't intend you to. I just wanted to see how you look. And you look"--he smiled appreciatively and bent to kiss her softly on the mouth--"ravishing." He stepped back again and looked at her. She was even more beautiful than she had been a year and a half before. And then his smile deepened. "Excited, Bettina?" She was about to say no, but then, laughing, she nodded her head.
    "Maybe a little."
    "You should be, my darling." And then he himself had to laugh. Was it possible that was all she was? Twenty-one? Tonight was her twenty-first birthday. And then, as he watched her, he slipped a hand into his pocket and came out with a dark-blue velvet box. There had been so much of that since they had married. He had showered her with presents and spoiled her since the day they'd got home from their precious honeymoon in East Hampton.
    "Oh, Ivo...." She looked at him as he handed her the dark blue box. "What more can you give me? You've already given me so much."
    "Go ahead, open it." And when at last she did, he smiled at her small gasp.
    "Oh, Ivo! No!"
    "Oh, yes." It was a magnificent pearl and diamond choker she had seen and admired at Van Cleef's. She had told him about it after they first married, in a funny, half-joking confidence, when she told him that one knew one had really grown up when one had a choker of pearls. He had been amused by her theory, and she had gone on to describe the elegant women who had worn chokers at her father's parties, sapphires, diamonds, rubies ... but only the truly "grown-up" women had had the good taste to wear chokers made of pearls. He had enjoyed the story and, like everything else she told him, he never forgot. He had been waiting impatiently for her twenty-first birthday to give her the choker of pearls. The one he had chosen was also enhanced by diamonds that hung together in a handsome oval clasp, which could be worn in the back or front. As she fumbled to put it on and he watched her, he could see bright tears standing out in her eyes, and then suddenly she was crushed against him, holding tightly to him, as she bowed her head against his chest. "It's all right, darling.... Happy birthday, my beloved...." He tilted her face toward him then and kissed her ever so softly on the lips.
    But there was something more than just gratitude in her face when she kissed him. "Don't ever leave me, Ivo ... never ... I couldn't bear it. ..." It wasn't the diamonds and the pearls that he gave her, it was that he always understood, he always knew, he was always there. She knew that she could always count on him. But the terrifying thing was--what if one day he wasn't there? She couldn't bear to think of it. What if he stopped loving her one day? Or what if he left her helpless and gasping as her father had.... But as he looked