by Helen Karol
She stepped out onto the empty balcony. Phew, it was hot. Taking the pins and the tortoise shell comb from her hair, she let it fall around her shoulders. The action reminded her of how Julian liked to let her hair down, the comb in her hand a token of his affection. A longing for him swept over her; the evening seemed so far away.
She jumped when she felt a hand at the back of her neck. Had her longing actually conjured him up? However, when she turned her head, she looked into blue eyes, not those beloved green ones.
"Does your husband make a practice of leaving you to attend social gatherings without him? You never did tell me how he reacted to your little act of rebellion."
"What passes between myself and my husband is none of your concern, Richard."
She tried to walk past him into the room, but he effectively blocked her path with his body.
"Everything about you is my concern, Claire."
He bent his head to kiss her, but she moved out of his reach.
"I thought you realised the last time you tried that you no longer hold any attraction for me. I’m completely and totally in love with Julian. I think it's time you accepted that."
She managed to slip past him, but he grabbed her arm in a clasp that made her wince.
"Maybe you love him, but does he love you? You've been married less than two months and already he's neglecting you. He's out of town right now, isn't he? I wouldn't leave you alone like that."
"I wish you would leave me alone. Besides, you seem to forget, you left me alone for almost three months without so much as a text or an email, or have you forgotten?" She had the satisfaction of seeing his face twist in anger. "So why don't you just leave me alone, altogether!"
She tried to pull her arm away. He gave it a twist and then let her go. With a final glare, she entered the living room and made for the bedroom, rubbing her arm. Finding her purse, she intended to go out and say her goodbyes when the door opened. Expecting Richard, she steeled herself, but it was Stella.
"Claire, I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to speak to you.”
"Can't it wait till tomorrow, Stella? I was just leaving."
Stella closed the door behind her. "It's not business and it will only take a moment."
"Alright, what is it?"
Stella didn't speak right away, crossing into the middle of the room instead. Claire could have sworn she was nervous.
"I know about you and Richard."
Claire's answer was wary. "I know you do, Stella. You knew us both in New York."
"I'm not talking about New York." She raised her hand at Claire's startled and indignant expression. "Don't worry, I'm not suggesting you've been unfaithful to Julian. But I do know you were not indifferent to Richard when he first came here, and that your continued faithfulness to Julian is no thanks to Richard."
"He no longer holds any attraction for me."
"That's quite obvious. However, I feel I should warn you, he won't be fobbed off easily. He'll not give up, Claire."
"He'll have to; there's nothing he can do about it."
Stella laughed. "You really don't know him very well, do you?"
"I know he can be determined, even ruthless. I realise now that was part of his fascination, but there really is nothing he can do."
Stella moved closer. "Yes, he can be ruthless; he can also be vindictive. Be careful, Claire. Don't trust him."
Claire looked at Stella in amazement. The other woman was serious. It was hard to decide which was more amazing - the warning or Stella's concern.
"Thank-you for the warning."
Stella smiled. It was unlike her usual, bright, professional smile. It was less full, but it carried a greater impact; it was the first time Claire had seen her smile sincerely.
She left Mary-Jane's apartment a little dazedly. Who would have thought Stella was human after all. But she dismissed her warning; Richard was powerless, he no longer had any hold over her.
It was after five, but she decided not to stop and eat. Mary-Jane had laid in lots of snacks. When Julian got back, she would prepare supper for them both. Mentally reviewing her wardrobe, she searched for something enticing. She giggled. Here she was planning to seduce her own husband.
She was driving past his office building, when on a whim, she decided to drop up to his studio - she had a set of keys - mocking herself for the yearning to be anywhere that reminded her of him. Intent on finding a parking spot, she didn't notice the car that changed direction with her, or it's occupant.
The building was deserted. It reminded her of when she arrived back from New York. This time the door was locked, and she knew when she unlocked it, he would not be leaning against the window. She flicked on the light switch and walked into the room.
It was filled with reminders of Julian's work - the work that was taking him away from her. Or rather, his excuse for withdrawing. She wrapped her arms around her body. It had been a mistake to come here, the studio was as empty as the house without him.
"How very touching."
She spun round, her eyes wide. "Richard, what are you doing here!"
He, walked into the room, closing the door behind him.
"I followed you."
"How very eccentric."
She echoed the form of his own words. Pulling herself to her full height, she let her arms drop, instinctively squaring up to his advancing figure.
"Not at all. I told you, we have unfinished business."
The back of her neck began to prickle, and not from desire. Stella's words came to her - don't trust him. She attempted not to show her feelings, he was only trying to scare her. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was succeeding.
"I believe I made it quite clear that you and I are finished, Richard. I'd like you to leave."
When he ignored her, she reached for her phone. He was beside her in an instant; twisting it from her grasp.
"How dare you! Get out of here at once!" Despite her words, her voice quivered.
"Don't pull the ice maiden act on me, Claire. You forget, I know how quickly you can melt."
"Not anymore, Richard. At least, not for you."
Her barb hit home, but it only spurred him on. "That's only because I made the mistake of letting you forget what it was like for us." He grasped the back of her head. "I think it's time I reminded you."
Claire allowed him to bring her mouth to his, lulling him into a sense of false security. Then, with one swift movement she brought up her knee. She missed her target, but the blow to his inner thigh knocked him off balance and she was able to push him away. Landing painfully against one of the worktables, he began cursing her.
Claire didn't stop to listen. Grabbing her purse and her phone, she rushed out. He may not intend carrying out his threats, but she had no intention of staying around to find out.
By the time Richard picked himself up, she was gone. Deciding it was pointless to follow her, he automatically began straightening the articles on the worktable he had knocked aside when he fell against it. Little bitch. He didn't like losing his power over her.
Thoughts straying to the man who was instrumental in that loss and whose premises he inhabited, Richard turned bitter. The man had everything. Talent, success and Claire. No one deserved all that; he had a fall coming to him. Too bad he couldn't do something about it himself.
His eyes fell to the object in his hand and to the ones of similar shape that lay strewn all over the floor. A smile twisted his mouth as he realised what they were. So the gods were kind after all. As the idea formed and took ugly shape in his mind, the room filled with his laughter.
It was not a pleasant sound.
Chapter Twelve
Julian threw the car into gear and joined the traffic leaving the airport. San Francisco was cold and rainy, but he knew that was not the reason he had taken an earlier flight.
It was a mistake not to take her.
Her absence, and his subsequent longing for her, only brought home to him how depend
ant on her he was becoming. The phone call was a mistake as well. She didn't even tell him she missed him. Why should she - her and her damn parties.
It was probably a lie about Blake, sure he'd be invited. Maybe he was being too harsh; she'd never lied to him before - except as far as Blake was concerned. Not exactly, but evasion was a form of lying, and she hadn't told him she was working with him.
She was evasive with him this morning as well. Why had he challenged her like that? It was a damn fool thing to do. He should have known better - jealousy was a futile emotion and dangerous. He had to get a grip on himself - not let his passions become too involved.
But they were already involved.
Leaning back, he gripped the steering wheel. He should never have married her, never allowed himself to hope. Hadn't he learned eight years ago that happy-ever-after endings were an illusion; that life wasn't that kind?
At least Susanna had been faithful to him. Despite his outbursts of jealousy in the early years of their marriage, he'd always known she loved him alone. The fact was, in those days, he had been envious of the pillow she slept on and the cup she held.
It was strange to remember those feelings; it had been years since he had thought about them, but then, it had been years since he had felt them. Not since Susanna. Now Claire was reviving them. She had crept into his heart and resurrected them and with them fear - fear of loss.
He had been so sure those feelings were dead, a part of his past. That he could marry Claire and stay in command, master of his own destiny. But, secretly, hidden even from himself, he had hoped there might be more, and those secret hopes had made him vulnerable.
Why had she married him if she still felt something for Blake? No doubt, she had been faithful to him in body; adultery would be unlike her. But what about in heart? And how much longer would she stay with him before the final blow fell?
The blast of a horn jerked him from his thoughts. The irate driver he had cut off shook his fist at him. Julian almost stopped the car and got out and punched him; he felt like punching someone. He decided to drive around for a while and calm down, no point in going home feeling like this.
Driving past his office building, he did a double take. No, he was imagining things. What would Richard Blake be doing pulling away from the curb? The car was gone before he could make certain. There were a lot of tall blond men in L.A. County and he'd only met the man once.
This was getting out of hand; here he was conjuring up his demons everywhere he looked. The absurdity of the situation made him laugh in self-derision. Suppose the rest of his suspicions were as mistaken? Decisively, he turned the car towards home - he had denied himself her presence long enough.
Her car was parked in the garage and the outside light was on, but the interior of the house was unlit and empty. Disappointment welled in him. Hell, what had he expected; to find her draped across the doorstep in nothing but frothy lace? If he had known how close he was to Claire's earlier plans, he might not have been so disappointed.
She was down on the beach, running sand through her fingers again and again. She must have changed when she got home; her tight jeans, and white cotton blouse tied above her waist were too casual for Greg’s birthday party and her golden hair was down around her shoulders, still wet and wavy from the shower. Desire for her flooded him. She looked so delectable, he had to school himself not to stride down and sweep her up in his arms.
The sound of the glass door sliding open alerted her to his return and she jumped up, her heart pounding. She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and rail at him for leaving her alone, but she was rooted to the spot. The breeze dishevelled his hair as he walked towards her. He was dressed more casually than usual, considering it had been a business trip. His jeans were a little crumpled from travelling and his black leather jacket was unzipped, revealing his green open-necked shirt.
As he drew nearer, the smell of leather intermingling with another smell assailed her. It was only when he was standing in front of her that she recognised it. The smell of the seaport.
"Did you take a harbour tour?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
He didn't tell her he had done so to take his thoughts off her, and instead had found himself at the prow, the wind whipping at him, wishing she were at his side.
"I can smell the salt spray from your jacket."
It was always that way now; her senses were intensely heightened whenever he was around. She buried her face in his chest, holding the sides of his jacket together, so she could feel the soft leather against her cheek. Then she pushed it aside. Why should it be closer to him than she was?
His skin was warm through the thin shirt and she could hear his heartbeat. Was it faster than normal?
"Oh, Julian, I missed you so much, don't you ever go away without me again."
He tried to keep his voice light and not betray the rush of joy her words had evoked. "I was only gone two days."
"It seemed like forever."
The feel of her against his chest was raising emotions he was determined to deny himself. Desiring her, feeling tender towards her, was permissible, but not this uncontrollable feeling to draw her so close she would become a part of him, to allow her complete access to his inner soul. He couldn't allow that. He would be defenceless then, dependent. His happiness, perhaps even his sanity, balanced precariously on the very air she breathed.
She lifted her head, and reaching up, drew his head down, fastening her lips to his own. The passion in her kiss caught him off guard, and he began to respond, instinctively, allowing free rein to the emotions he had been determined to control. He felt her stiffen, obviously surprised by his response. Her reaction made him aware of his lapse and he started to bring his feelings under restraint.
Sensing his withdrawal, she kissed him frantically, pouring all her love into him, storming his defences. Suddenly, Julian relented. Why deny something that was already there. When she was like this, he could almost forget his fears. It seemed pointless to fight when her love promised him undying devotion.
As they kissed, he lifted her from the ground and then slowly lowered them both, lying out backwards, bringing her with him so she lay stretched out on top of him on the sand. Claire could hardly believe it. She didn't know why he had suddenly opened up to her, and she didn't care. The separation was worth it, if this was the result.
She continued to assault him with her love. She didn't want to give him a chance to change his mind. She had to build his passion even further, gain greater access to the part of himself he had denied her, but was denying her no longer. Any moment he could close up the mysteries of his heart, roll her over and make love to her in the same tender, controlled fashion that Claire knew only revealed half of him. Or worse still, he could withdraw from her again, leaving her bereft and worse off than ever, because now she was tasting the depths of his love, which she had only guessed at.
He drew her closer, his hands holding either side of her head, his tongue and lips tracing her face with a reverence that awed her. When his lips returned to her mouth, they were gentle, parting her own lips. The pressure of his mouth increased as she kissed him back. Probing with her tongue, she met his, and they explored each other in unison, moving together more completely than ever before.
Desperate to feel the warmth of him against her, she removed his jacket. Opening his shirt, she placed her lips to his heart. With gentle nips and kisses, she moved all over his chest, slowly, taking her time before returning to his mouth, rewarded by the building passion she saw in his eyes.
He helped her slip off his shirt and then locked her tight against his naked chest, as desperate as her to be close. They kissed a while longer; for how long Claire found impossible to tell, time had stopped for her, for them both. Caught up in the drugging passion sweeping through them, they were hardly even aware of the waves washing in drenching the sand and them.
She felt his hands at her waist and she was raised up and above him and the
n he lowered her to take her breast in his mouth. She gasped; the sensation of his warm breath through her soaked blouse almost driving her over the edge. His mouth there had never created such a driving sensation before, but then, he had never loved her this way before.
His mouth moved to her other breast, caressing the already taut nipple with his tongue. If his hands had not been supporting her, she knew she would have fallen against him, feverishly. His whispered request to open her blouse was unnecessary, her hands were already at the first button. They flew over the task, she was desperate to feel his mouth against her bare skin. She turned the blouse down over her shoulders making sure it would not impede his access
Shuddering when his lips touched her again, she thrust her fingers in his hair, holding him ever closer, loving the touch of him, the feel of him. He shifted, cradling her sideways in the sand. She knew she should feel the grit of it against her bare shoulder, but she felt only him. Their love enveloped them, cocooning them in a world consisting only of each other. Their hands moved over one another, lingering at no particular place, each part as precious as the next.
Julian could feel himself spinning deeply down to a place from where there would be no return. If he lost himself in her now there would be no going back to the safe, quiet emotion of the beginning and certainly not to the withdrawal of the past weeks. He hesitated only for a moment before accepting the inevitability of his surrender. Turning her under him, he increased the tempo of their lovemaking, determined it should be done quickly with no chance for doubt.
From the house, came the shrill sound of another world apart from the world of love they now inhabited. It jolted him, reminding him, mocking him, bringing him back, inexorably, to a reality where trust, life and marriage co-existed with suspicion, death and divorce.
Claire sensed his withdrawal immediately. Fighting it, she clung to him, her voice desperate. "Julian, please, don't answer it. Don't leave me, not now."