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size was beyond them, she just kept pushing.’ She knew she was rambling, but it was better than thinking about what people around her were saying.

‘So, she is pregnant. They are married, are they not?’ Marco said in confusion.

‘Not married like this, but they are Bonded. They had to be to adopt Bart. But she cannot be with child, Marco. I told you. We are all sterile here. Except for the women who come to us pregnant, there are no other fertile women or men in our world. I warned you of that.’

‘We cannot have children? Yes, I remember you saying something, but I did not believe any of this back then. Especially not the fact you were a very old lady. I still do not quite believe that.’

‘Well, believe it, because it is true. And none of us can have children. Or that has been the case for over two hundred years. Not since before the LGP. If this has happened… if she is pregnant… my God, that will mean everything changes.’

The guests started to move back into the living room and the wedding party began, although it was now edged with excitement and dread. Pia didn’t care. If it were true, if Faith were pregnant, it meant that there was a possibility she might someday have a child of her own. As it was, she had plans to ask Marco about adopting Tiggy. That little tot still pulled at her heart-strings and she’d spent a great deal of her time since returning, playing with the child in the Centre and fielding her innocent questions.

Marco and Paulo had stayed at the Interim Centre with the others for the last two nights while she had gone back to her unit. Both men were adjusting to their new life with enthusiasm. She had wanted to postpone the wedding until Marco really understood what he had been given. There were opportunities that would take time to filter. Not the least of them being the many attractive and exceptional women he could choose from. He was limiting himself by jumping into commitment too soon.

However, Marco had been adamant that he wanted to have the wedding immediately. And, even though she was still worried that her lack of enthusiasm in bed might bore him after a while, she reluctantly agreed.

So here they stood, with all her friends around her, married in a way that she had never expected, to a man she still couldn't believe wanted her. And she was happy – disconcertingly, unbelievably happy.

It was while they were cutting their wedding cake that the Tablets all over the room went off. Knife still held in Marco's hand, Pia reached for her Tablet and allowed the message to flow into her mind. It was from Karl. The message was as simple as it was sublime: 'Faith is pregnant and doing well.'

A hush fell over the room as everyone digested the news.

‘What?’ Marco asked, getting annoyed by the further intrusion into his wedding day. He'd heard the bleeps and seen the way everyone reached for their Tablets, but he hadn’t heard the message. And of course, he just didn't get the importance of this news. How could he? Children were a given in his world. Taken for granted. Regretted. Terminated. Neglected. How could he possibly understand?

‘It is confirmed. Faith is pregnant,’ she told him with a stunned smile.

‘Good. I am happy for her and Luke. Can we get back to your cake? This is your day and I wanted it to be perfect. And we need to leave soon.’

His indignation and impatience were endearing and she leaned up to drop a kiss on his beautiful lips.

‘One day you will understand what is happening here. This makes our day even more special; I assure you.’

Marco grunted and looked at the stunned faces around him. Every face was transformed, lit from within by a flame of hope.

Maggie Tasmania, the artist, was jumping up and down and hugging her dark-skinned mate.

‘Luke will be over the moon!’ she crowed to him.

Pia smiled at her delight, even though she didn’t know Luke well enough to understand why this would be all that special to someone from 1942. However, maybe he “got” better than most Newcomers what infertility had meant to women like Faith.

And her.

What would it be like to carry a child in her belly like the women she brought back from the Titanic? Her last pregnancy had been so short she had barely acknowledged its reality. Then it was gone and so was her marriage to the teenage boy she thought she loved. Strangely, the pain of that time didn’t consume her as it once had. Finding Marco seemed to have healed that wound.

Two hundred plus years later and new life had become even more precious to their world than it had ever been. And now there was a possibility that, if one of their number could do this amazing thing, maybe others of them could too.

Eventually, Jac drew the celebration back to order and told them to finish cutting their cake. With much laughing and tears, the gathering took up where they had left off and, for Pia, the rest of the festivities passed in a pleasurable blur.

Later, after the well-wishers had seen them off and they had walked hand-in-hand down the cliff path to the small cluster of villas situated a few hundred metres inland, Pia felt her nerves begin to surface again.

Because of Marco’s insistence on marriage, she'd applied for and been allocated, one of these homes. The plan was for Paulo to live with them until he settled into his new life. However, for the next few days at least, he would remain at the Interim Centre while she and Marco had the place to themselves for their honeymoon.

Staring at their new home, a Roman style villa so much larger and lovelier than anywhere she’d ever lived before, it suddenly all seemed too much, too soon. And by the time Marco had carried her across the threshold, she was shaking uncontrollably, tears stinging her eyes.

‘What is it, Cara Mia?' Marco's dark eyes became troubled.

‘Nothing. I am just nervous about… you know.’ She lied, feeling herself blush.

How could he possibly understand how overwhelmed she felt by all the wonderful things that had happened to her in the last week? It was as if she was crashing under the weight of her joy. Panicking, as the tears poured from her eyes, she wondered if somehow she was losing touch with reality. She clutched Marco tighter, burying her head against his shoulder as she whimpered. Could one go mad from too much happiness?

Silently, he strode through the small house with Pia in his arms and when he reached the master bedroom, he slowly lowered her feet to the tiled floor. She loved the silky texture of their clothing as it brushed against their warm bodies. It fired her blood and some of her overwhelm began to recede.

‘You have told me that you have experience. Was that a lie, after all?’ He was teasing her in an attempt to help her past her worries. His warm brown eyes outlined by impossibly thick, black lashes searched her own, looking for something.

‘No. But I have never been… sex is not very… I am sure it will be very nice with you…’ She sputtered to a stop and cast her gaze away from his all-too-knowing expression.

He laughed joyously. ‘“Nice” is not a word I would use. But let us see what else it might be, huh, my sweet, sweet Pia!’

Then he was releasing the catches on her gown as he claimed her mouth and she shivered as the white fabric slid down her body to pool at her feet. She was then naked, except for the stretch shorts they all wore as underwear and the crown of flowers on her head. His confident, gentle hands began to stroke her skin everywhere, as his lips urged hers to open and give him access to her mouth. She did his bidding, feeling a tingle of pleasure spreading out from somewhere deep inside her. That feeling intensified as he continued to touch her and kiss his way down her neck.

She reached shyly up and released the catches at the shoulder of his tunic. It fell to his waist where the belt held it in place. Marco left off his stroking to release the belt so the fabric could drop to the floor beside hers. His mouth never left her body.

‘I like these clothes. So easy to wear, so easy to remove,’ he mumbled against her neck.

She chuckled deep in her throat as he drew her closer. The feel of his naked flesh pressed against her bare breasts was electric. Without knowing what she did, she rubbed her skin against his, luxuriating in the feel. The little groan he let out told her he was feeling the pleasure too.

His strong hands wove into the long hair at the back of her head and drew her even closer. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she allowed herself the pleasure of running her hands across his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath her hands.

‘Nice,’ he said with a smile, as he left her neck to scatter kisses along her shoulder and back before gently biting into the flesh at the crux of her neck. The bite electrified her and she arched her body as the flow of pleasure nearly swamped her senses.

‘Uhhh…’ Was all she managed in response. He chuckled again.

‘I have never seen my experience with women as having value.’ His words were mere breaths against her neck. ‘But finally, I think I have found its value if I can please you. Give yourself up to me, Cara Mia. Let go of your fears and reserve, let down your walls and trust me… can you do that, my sweet one?’ His words were like an aphrodisiac, and she let them loosen her tight control and soothe her concerns.

As she relaxed, he nodded against the skin of her shoulder. ‘Sí, Cara Mia, that’s it. Trust the feeling. Ride it.’

His confident, strong hands were moving down her body now, slipping under the edge of her shorts and drawing them down and off her so his fingers could bury themselves in the curls between her legs. Moaning softly, she let her head fall back, riding the sensation as he instructed.

The first intrusion of his fingers into her secret centre was shocking and she clenched her thighs together. ‘Shhh… sí, let me… let me touch you…’ His voice was a harsh whisper against her ear now and obediently she let go.

Her mind went back to the first time she lost her virginity. It had been a painful and embarrassing experience at the boathouse by the pier. It had been cold that night, and the clumsy, drunken fingers that thrust themselves into her warm centre had hurt her. But she had made no move to stop them. She had decided that she was long overdue to lose her virginity. Now was as good a time as any. And if the boy… what was his name? She couldn’t remember. If he was drunker than she wanted and if he smelled of the drugs he had been smoking, it didn’t matter. She just needed to get it over.

And with that thought came the same urge. Get it over. It would hurt, but then when Marco was satisfied he would lay with her in his arms and it would be nice. And Marco was neither drunk nor clumsy. It would be okay if she could just get it over.

She began to pull Marco’s shorts down his body so he, too, would be naked. His arousal was a pleasant shock, long and thick, the head bulging like an arrowhead at its tip. It jerked in her hands as she held it, as if it had a life of its own. Marco moaned and bit down on her shoulder again, this time a little harder. How could pain like that be pleasurable? Her touch became harder as she moved over his thickness.

‘No… sweet Pia that is too much…’ he said with another groan. He

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