With My Body

by Jo Briggs

  He caught her smiling to herself, as he turned from the hob, with the warm through pasta. Saucepan in one hand, and a bowl in another, he carefully poured the contents into the dish, and, with a wide grin, handed her a spoon. "Dig in!"

  He felt a swell of pride, as he watched her face show her obvious delight at how his cooking had improved a hundredfold.

  "Mmmm…this is delicious," she said, in between mouthfuls. She finished her meal quickly, all the while trying to stop his watchful stare from unnerving her too much. Placing the dirty spoon back on the plate, she met his gaze, and breathed a warm thank you at him.

  "You are most welcome," he returned, as he leaned in slightly, to tuck an unruly chocolate-caramel curl that had fallen into her eyes, back behind her ear. The action was so spontaneous, and second nature, it took them both a moment to realise what had happened, and to notice the jolt of electricity that shuddered through them both. A slight gasp escaped her mouth, as their eyes locked; a flicker of longing on both of their faces, before they came to their senses, and William got up from the table abruptly.

  "Let me show you to your room" His voice had returned to its more business-like state.

  Nodding silently, she stood up and followed him. He grabbed her case from the hall and took her up to the familiar wide staircase.

  The manor house boasted about fifteen suites, each with its own bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom. The second floor was used primarily for visiting family members, while the first floor was for friends. The Master suite was a separate wing altogether, and consisted of two bedrooms, a sitting room, an adjoining bathroom to the two bedrooms, two large dressing rooms, and a nursery. Although normally he would put friends on the floor below his suite, he wanted her nearer than that, and so without thinking twice, showed her to a room just across the hallway from his room. No, their room, the room, he would gladly take her to now, if he dared.

  Handing her the case, he left her at the door, after bidding her a nervous goodnight, not daring to allow himself to enter the room, and place the case within. He knew if he set eyes on the king size bed, and Elle within reach of his arms, he could not be held responsible for what marvellous things he would do to her sexy body, within its crisp white sheets.

  Closing the door behind her, Elle leaned up against the wood, her heart was still hammering. Taking a couple of swift, deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. There was no denying that the fire was still there, but she could not afford to let her heart be too caught up in the moment, this early on. She wanted to get to know him again first, to find out if he had discovered the truth of Charlotte lies, and why he had disappeared off for two years, before she made her ultimate confession.

  Only three people, her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, and Cate, knew that William had fathered her son. Because of the years abroad, as she dealt with her depressive state, and studied for her degree, some of her other family members were not introduced to the boy until he was five years old. Due to the complications of his birth, Christian remained small, in comparison to other children of a similar age. People concluded Christian must be a couple of years younger than he truly was, and sired by someone other than William, which Elle did not go out of her way to correct.

  Elle started to run the shower in the bathroom, waiting for it to steam up; she began to place a few outfits inside the wardrobe, setting her daily skin regime bottles on the dresser, and her nightwear on the bed. Unzipping the dress, she let it drop to the floor before she stepped into the shower.

  Images of him ran through her mind as she glided the lather over her skin, the hot water soothing her aching, jet lagged muscles. She sighed inwardly; she was certainly going to have to work hard not to think of him constantly, or she would go insane before even one day together had passed. She had only been in his company for less than two hours, and already she was panting like a schoolgirl at the mere thought of him.

  Drying herself off, she chose to wear a silk nightgown with a hem at the mid-thigh beneath a full-length, thin-belted dressing gown that was drawn tight around her waist. Restless, she peered out the window; it was a bright moonlight night, and she could see the familiar gardens below. A tug of familiarity urged her to go downstairs, and grab some air. It became somewhat of a ritual for her, in those last tortuous months, before her departure for New York.

  Opening the door into the hallway, she discovered it was still dimly light. She was not sure if William had gone straight to his own room after leaving her, or had gone back downstairs, but she was sure he would not mind her going out into the gardens. She quickly made her way down the stairs, and through a couple of adjoining reception rooms to a conservatory. She tried the handle for the French doors, but they were locked. Thinking back, she wondered if the key would be in the same place. She spotted two familiar vases sitting ornately on a large glass table; one had a flower arrangement of white lilies with baby's breath and heather, while the other remained empty. Slipping her slender hand inside the empty one, she was not disappointed, as her fingers laced around a key. Thank you, William, for not changing, she thought silently.

  Taking the key, she opened the doors and stepped outside, the crisp night air breezed over her. It was refreshing. She slipped the key into dressing gown pocket, and slowly wandered further onto the paved path, seeing an old stone bench ahead. She sat down, resting her back on the cool surface of the stone, as she closed her eyes, the slight wind against her face helping to clear her mind.

  With the scent of lilies still lingering in her nostrils from the vase, her mind recalled many, significant moments, when William sent her the same variety of flowers, knowing it to be her favourite. The last time had been the day, he came over to Cate's house after discovering her farewell note. Since then, the scent of lilies always left her with a stabbing pain lancing her heart; since then, she had not been able to buy any. The mere memory of the smell brought a sting to her eyes, as she tried to fight back the tears.

  Little did she know, the object of her thoughts had the same idea; having gone out another set of doors, he was just making his way back down the path to where she was. Elle did not even hear his shoes rustling against the path, as she was so engrossed in trying to clear her thoughts of him, so she could at least have a peaceful night sleep.

  William was equally surprised to discover her here, "Elle!" Her name blurted from his throat involuntarily, as the moonlight, and the dim garden lights that helped to distinguish the paved path from the plant beds, the mix of the lights glistened against her skin highlighting the exquisite temptation of ample cleavage, her long legs outstretched in front of her, clearly visible through the sheerness of the dressing gown. He felt the old, familiar stirrings in the pit of his stomach.

  He could not help, but laugh inwardly at the cruelty of the situation. He had left the house to avoid the thought of her, across the hall from him, was killing him, and now here she looked as breath-taking testing his restraint to the fullest, when it was already at snapping point.

  Startled to hear her name spoken at that point, she opened her eyes wide, as she looked at him, a shocked expression written over her face. "Will…." She breathed his name faintly, his sudden appearance at a vulnerable moment, causing her to lose her inner struggle with keeping the tears at bay.

  He moved closer, sitting tentatively next her on the bench, a questioning look on his handsome face, "Are you all right?" He asked softly. He reached out nervously, to take one of her hands in his, not trusting himself enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. She did not respond at first. Avoiding his gaze, she looked at his large hand, wrapped around one of her small ones, resting on lap, and nodded silently.

  "Memories?" He spoke again. Elle nodded once more, tilting her head slightly to one side, so her raised eyes met his levelly. She turned her head to rest it against his shoulder briefly, as she admitted that being back in this house raised some ghosts she thought had dispersed. She pushed the thought of her impending admission to the furthest space of her mind, not want
ing to think of that just yet. She wanted to enjoy not having any new obstacles between them for as long as possible, but deep down, she knew that time would be exceedingly short.

  William could read her like a book, even after this long separation. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, and comfort her. But, he knew that would scare her into putting up the emotional barriers this early on. He needed to handle the situation exceedingly differently to last time, his inept handling of her emotions then led to her leaving him, just when he was about to propose to her.

  He had spent the next five years savouring any news of her life, although the news in the first few years had been exceptionally sparse, due to estrangement between Elle and her sister, Jess. He found out later that she had a son during her time in New York, but he did not know how old he was, or who the father was. Charlotte had tried to give him a line about it being his nemesis, Greg Wickham’s, who he knew was living in New York at the time, but he could not believe Elle would be taken in by a chancer as him.

  It had killed him to think of her having a child with someone else, especially after all the pain, they shared losing theirs. The knowledge of the child had been the turning point for him, giving up any hope of her suddenly returning to him, that was when Charlotte had pounced on his vulnerability, and used her connection to Elle, to convince him to give her a chance. In a weak moment of loneliness, he gave in, and his life soon became consumed by the misery of her unplanned pregnancy, and drug addiction, until the day he saw Elle again, and a light switched on, showing him that he was being taken for a fool.

  William was seriously hurt by Elle’s coldness. He had hoped, after five years, they could at least be friends, and her sudden disappearance on the day of Jess and Charlie’s wedding troubled him tremendously. It was only weeks later when Charlotte, and he broke up, that he finally got to parts of the truth of why Elle had been so cold to him. Charlotte would not tell him everything, but she had confessed she had deleted certain voicemail messages, on his mobile, that Elle had left a few months after she left him. She claimed she never listened to the message, so did not know what they contained, but he was sure she did, but she stood firm in her denial.

  Once he had broken things off from Charlotte, he ached to go find Elle, and try to sort out whatever misunderstanding Charlotte had caused between them. By the time, he found out that she had moved back to Yorkshire, but was flittering around the world, publicising her new fashion label he had any almost given up any hope of an opportunity, when he saw photographs of her in several different cities, holding hands with the same man. Pride kept him from seeking her out after that, so he took his bruised and battered heart to Chile to recover, escaping any familiarity that reminded him of her, and the lies of Charlotte to recover.

  All the time these thoughts were spinning around in his head, he just kept circling his thumb over the back of her hand, keeping the touch to a tiniest amount, unless she initiated something more, was his decided course of action for now. "Do you want to talk about it? I can go and get some wine, and we can sit here for as long as you need." He offered, hoping that finally after seven years of waiting, they might start to clear up all their misunderstandings.

  "Wine would be agreeable, thank you, but I don’t think I am ready to talk things through tonight. It’s much harder being here than I thought, and need to get my thoughts in check. Is that ok?” She asked, nervously.

  He squeezed her hand understandingly. He knew they were going to be undisturbed here for a few days, before Jess got out of hospital, or she could move into the new house, Charlie had told him about. He had waited seven years, so one or two more days he could cope with, knowing he could at least enjoy her company in the meantime, and show her how improved he was. "Let me get the wine. I will just be a moment."

  He came back with two wine glasses in one hand, and a bottle of red wine in other, with a blanket hanging from his forearm. She took the glasses, and bottle, from him, and began to pour two generous helpings, as he unravelled the blanket and placed it around her shoulders.

  Handing him a glass, she moved closer to him so that the blanket would fall around his back, as well.

  “So, what should we toast to first?”

  “Familiar places, and old friends.”

  They clinked glasses, before both taking a large sip of the ruby liquid to calm their nerves.

  "So, what have you been up doing with yourself, since I last saw you?"

  "Well, I don’t know if Charlie told you anything, but I have only recently returned from two years in South America, working for a charity, helping to teach English in deprived areas, and other miscellaneous projects." Elle was burning with curiosity about why he had split with Charlotte so suddenly after seeing her, and heading to the middle of nowhere. It made her wonder if Charlotte had come clean about her deleting the messages, Elle had left him all those years ago. Then again, if he already knew something she was surprised, he had let her put off discussing everything for a day, or two. The old William would have demanded to talk about it at once, rather than giving her time.

  "It’s rare for you to take a long break from work.” Elle observed rhetorically.

  William nodded in agreement. “Yes, it was, but it came at the right time, when I needed a time-out of life here, to assess what direction my life was taking."

  She remained silent. It was not that she did not have a thousand questions to ask him about why he went, but she did not want to push him into answering her questions, when she had asked him for time to answer his. She knew, deep down, that she had to be a factor in the time-out he had needed.

  "So, how are Gina and Evan?" Gina and Evan were William's siblings.

  "Well, Gina is almost 25. She finished at Cambridge, and now lives mostly between Vienna and Berlin. She has a German husband, Ralf Hoffman, and helps Evan run the hotel chain. They have a two-year-old child." He sipped slowly at his own glass, trying to ignore the tantalising vision of her unclad shapely legs, where the dressing gown fell open from below the tie belt.

  "Wow, Gina, a mother." She smiled at the thought; Gina had always doted upon her cousin Adam's children, and it was lovely she had one of her own now. It made Elle think how William felt of being an Uncle - did he spoil the child as a replacement for the one they had lost, since she was not even sure if he had anything to do with Charlotte’s child. She also wondered how Gina would be towards her, should they meet soon. They had been as close as sisters during her relationship with William, but things had turned cold quickly after she had left him. "I understand from Cate that Evan is based in Paris, she mentioned that she had dinner with him a few times in the past few months."

  Evan was older than Gina, aged 30, as the second son within the mighty Dexter lineage; he had worked his way through a Cambridge degree as well, before taking on responsibility of the chain of exclusive hotels all over the world.

  "Yes, he has been in Paris for a couple of years now. He seems to be all inspiring, and has put together several incredible ideas that I wouldn't have thought of myself." William had not been close to his brother when they were younger, as he was flaky with his work ethic and a reputation for being a womaniser. But, in the last few years, he had become proud of Evan’s achievements within the boardroom, and how more settled in his personal life he had become. Pity he could not be more settled in his own personal life, he often mused. "I heard a rumour from Gina that Evan was dating Cate. Were you aware of that?" He asked curiously.

  Elle's perfectly plucked eyebrows arched, with a surprised expression in her eyes. "No, she has kept that quiet." Elle began to wonder if her sister had been silent on the matter for her sake, not wanting to hurt her, until she was sure the relationship with Evan was serious. Cate would be considerate to Elle's sensitive feelings of having a potential permanent link to William's family. "I am sure she has her reasons for not saying anything at the moment. I am due to see her in a few weeks." She said in a matter of fact way. "So how are you enjoying being a
n Uncle?"

  William smiled. "Louie is so cute. He has certainly enlightened me to the delights of Lego that I had long forgotten. Unfortunately, because they live in Berlin the majority of the time, I do not get to see him as much as I would like, although I try to make a specific trip over there at least once every six months. I normally do the same to Paris to see Evan."

  They discussed briefly how her modelling career had encouraged her to do her design degree, split between Florence and New York, and about all the fashion boutiques she had opened. He watched with proud enthusiasm, as Elle spoke about how she loved creating clothes and had, in the beginning read the society pages to see if one of her designs was mentioned at a swanky party. He laughed at the image. He took a last swig from his glass, just leaving the final dregs in the bottom. The chiming of the clock in the hallway echoed through the night air, intruding through their thoughts and bringing them back to reality: One o'clock

  Elle stood up, and looking down at him, outstretching her hand to encourage him to slip his hand into hers. "Shall we go back inside?"

  He stood up, and slipped his hand into her offered one. She had not moved as he stood, so his body was just inches away from hers. As they stood facing each other, she could feel his breath in her hair. The wine had fired up a brave determination in her blood, giving her the confidence to tilt her head upwards, and give him the smile she used to save just for him, during their private time, it used to make his heart miss a beat, and continued to have the same effect now.

  He gulped.

  She went up on tiptoes and kissed him gently on the corner of his lips. "Thank you for the wine, and understanding," she said gently.