Chances & Choices (9 page)

The gentleness and tenderness of his lovemaking was a new experience to Claire.
  It seemed to melt her insides and turn her blood to a slow, creeping fire.  He continued to tempt and tease her nipples to a ripe fullness, concentrating his mouth on one breast while caressing and gently squeezing the other.  His hands and mouth worked their way slowly over each of her breasts before returning to claim her lips and throat. 

She took gentle nibbles at his neck, shoulders and chest.
  He tasted and smelled both familiar and different and she gazed up into his eyes turned a dark green by their shared desire.  She released the remaining buttons of his shirt one by one, loving the feel of his naked, warm flesh.   He looked down at her, drinking her in, as he traced her moist lips, grown full and ripe from his kisses.

Moving down her body all the way to her toes, he leisurely ran his hand over her bare feet in a sensuous caress, slowly tracing her ankles, curving around her calves to the niche behind her knees, his tongue trailing along the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

His slow, sensual, exploration of her body touched almost every part of her, arousing her until she found herself desperate for his most intimate caress.  Moulding herself to the contours of his body, she trailed caresses and kisses over his face from his eyes to his ears, burying her lips in his neck.  Entwining her fingers in his hair as his tongue moved along her navel to her thighs, she moaned and arched in appreciation when, at last, his hand stroked her intimately through the thin material of her clothing. 

His touch there raised an inner fire and the fire increased when he slowly released the zipper of her shorts, lowering them and her lacy underwear gently over her hips, the feel of his hands against her bare skin arousing her desire to a slow, driving peak.
 

His tongue and teeth moved up along her stomach, circling her navel before claiming her lips once more as his hands showered her most intimate places with soft, cupping and penetrating caresses that took her closer and closer to the edge.
 Eventually his mouth left hers, his tongue travelling lower and lower until finally, he took his own, slow, gentle time bringing her to a sweet release in a way that was also new to Claire.

Holding her close, he cradled her against him as her breathing returned to normal.
  Then he began setting their clothing to rights.  Claire was powerless to help him as she stared at him blankly, still amazed at the wonder of what she had just experienced.  He started to laugh in a tender way.  "This is an unusual occurrence.  You.  Speechless."

Claire found her voice, although she was still barely coherent.
  "Well what do you expect ... I mean no one's ever... not ...you ..."

Julian came to her rescue, cutting off her babbling with his lips.
  After the kiss, he pulled her close against him.  "I know this is probably chauvinistic, but I'm glad I was first in something."

The fierceness of her reply surprised him.
  "I wish you'd been first in everything!"

Reversing their positions so she lay on top of him, he took her head in his hands.
  "Claire, you're here with me now, that's all that matters."  He brought her down, resting her in the crook of his arm, stroking her hair gently.  Claire felt she fitted against him perfectly, as if the spot had been created just for her.

"You could have been the first."

"Perhaps, but if I had been, I might not have the opportunity to be the last and I would prefer to be that."

"You never know.
  You could at least have given me some idea."  She moved out of the crook of his arm, resting her elbows on his chest, frowning at him in a reproving manner.  "You should have ravished me."  Chuckling, she warmed to her theme.  "In fact, you should ravish me now!"

Julian laid his head back, groaning.
  "I should have known it wouldn't last.  I have a feeling your sexual appetite is going to turn out to be as large as your appetite for food."

Saucily, she grinned at him.
  "Afraid you won't be able to keep up?"

"Oh, I think I might be able to manage.
  Now get off!"  Arching up, he flipped her off him, catching her and setting her on her feet before she landed on the floor.  "You're heavy."

Placing her arms akimbo, she took him to task over the aspersions he was casting on her figure.
  "Didn't anyone ever tell you insulting a lady's weight is no way to win her favour.  You court a woman with flattery, not insults."

"Is that what I'm doing, courting you?"

At the intentness in his gaze, Claire lost her confidence and mumbled.  "Well, I was under that impression.  I guess I just misunderstood."  Embarrassed, she began to walk away.

Encircling her waist with his hands, Julian brought her back down into the crook of his arm.
  "No, Claire, you didn't misunderstand.  I just wanted to make sure you weren't using the term lightly, without its implications."  He paused before asking.  "Can you give me any indication if my suit will be successful?"

Despite his bantering tone and the use of words that carried on the old-fashioned method of speech, Claire sensed the seriousness of his inquiry.
  She considered carefully before answering. 

"Julian, I think you could be remarkably easy to fall in love with.
  And we have a head start because we've known each other so long.  But the idea's still new to me.  I'm afraid, I'm going to need more time."

"Nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart.
 I'm not going to rush you.  I just want you to be sure of what you're getting into."  Claire curled closer against him, loving the sound of the endearment on his tongue.

Yes, he could be remarkably easy to love.
 But now, two weeks later, she still wasn't sure of her feelings.  Maybe it was because he hadn't gone any further in their lovemaking.  Their intimacy hadn't lessened, resulting in a lot of kissing and cuddling, and he often brought her fulfilment in the same way he had before.  But he allowed their intimacy to go no further, always slowing things down when they started to get too intense.  Gradually, she began to realise he intended to go no further until she was sure of her feelings towards him.  It had become obvious to her, without him having to say it, that he intended the consummation of their relationship would be an act of love on both their parts.  So she couldn't hope to elucidate her feelings in that way.

Surely she shouldn’t have to.
 He managed to decide he was in love with her without that.  But then, he had been in love before; he knew what to look for.  Shaking her head, she looked up at the interested gaze of her co-workers and wondered how much of her thoughts had crossed her face.  Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes and began to type.

Reaching her apartment after work, she decided to unwind in the bathtub before dressing for her date with Julian that night.
 She would bring up the profile during the conversation and test him out on it.  Maybe the article would be good in more than one respect.  Finding out about him professionally, having to detach herself from him, might help her to assess her feelings.  She felt delightfully relaxed and she reminded herself there was no rush.  Hadn't she heard somewhere that when you're in love it just hits you one day and you know it without a doubt?  Of course that could just be romantic nonsense...

Claire opened her eyes suddenly aware of the tepid water around her, her mind registering the sound of the buzzer that wakened her.  Scrambling out of the tub, she pulled a large bath towel around her, tucking the ends firmly between her breasts.  Her feet left damp imprints on the deep pile of the carpet as she made her way across it to open the door to Julian.  He was the only person the doorman would have allowed up unannounced.

He was standing with one hand on the doorframe, the other resting just below his waist underneath his opened sports jacket.
 His pale green shirt was open at the neck, revealing the strong, tanned column of his throat.  As Claire looked up into his face, she caught a deepening in the green of his eyes, which was quickly controlled, and the only apparent reaction to her state of undress was a rueful acceptance that he would have to change the time of their reservation.

"Sorry.”
 She moved back into the room to allow him to enter.  "I took a bath to ease the tension of driving back in traffic and I must have.. "

"..fallen asleep."
 Julian finished for her as he closed the door behind him.  He grinned.  “You must have been there a while, you're wrinkled."

Indignant, Claire struck a very provocative pose, bringing her hands to her breasts and throwing out one hip, drawing further attention to the curves already revealed by the clinging towel.
  "Are you made of stone!  Here I am, standing in front of you, draped in nothing but a towel and all you can do is tell me, I'm wrinkled."

The grin was wiped from his face and he walked slowly towards her.
 As he drew closer, the faint scent of his aftershave reached her; the smell of ginseng mingling with his skin.  She was aware of her own fragrance; the bath oil she had used, and of damp, warm skin.  She curled her toes in the pile of the carpet, revelling in its softness.  She saw beyond him to the bright splash of colour created by the blooms arranged in a vase on the table by the window, and it seemed as if their essence swirled with all the others.  It took him only moments to cross the space between them, but during this time her heightened senses were aware of everything around her.

And then, there was only him.
 

His strong, lean body in front of her own. The brush of his coat sleeve against her cheek, his hand reaching behind to release her hair from its pins.
 It fell heavily and he ran his fingers through it, bringing a wisp around to lie against the curve of her jaw.  His fingers traced the fullness of her lips, down her throat and moved on to caress her naked shoulder.  She looked up at him into those green pools, which pierced her own eyes.  She knew he wanted something from her and he almost drew it, but in the end she couldn't offer it to him, not yet.  His hand fell from her and his lips parted in a husky whisper.

"Go and dress, Claire."
 And she turned and did as he bade her.

When she returned, she smiled at him sunnily and he allowed her to set the mood.

"There, all ready, sorry I took so long."

"Don't worry, I changed our reservation."

"Good.  I hope you picked somewhere close, I'm ravenous."

He smiled.
  "Yes, close enough, in fact, I thought we might walk.  It's a beautiful night."

"That would be nice.
 That's what I like about this place, it's nice to live by the beach, but when you're in the city, you're close to everything."

Their conversation continued in the same vein as they made their way to the restaurant.
 Neither spoke of the moments back in Claire's apartment.  But although they did not speak of them, the moments were not forgotten.  Their memory hung in the air between them - like a promise.

Later, Julian drove back through the night, his thoughts full of Claire.
 Since the first night of her return, he had hopes of marrying her.  But he knew that although she may be attracted to him, he could not be sure she would fall in love with him.  Then, on the Sunday night, he caught her looking at him almost as if she were seeing him for the first time.  With that look had come the first secret, stirrings of hope, as if something lost to him with Susanna's death was once more within his grasp.

As the days turned into weeks, their intimacy grew.
 Each look, each gesture, held importance.  Little by little, Claire was falling in love with him.  When he allowed their relationship to change two weeks ago, it was because he could tell this was happening, even though Claire was hardly aware of it.  Tonight he thought... but then she hesitated, and he knew that even though she was falling in love with him, she wasn't in love with him yet.

His thoughts turned to their conversation over dinner and to her request that he allow her to do a profile on him for her magazine.
 His first reaction was surprise.

"What for, Claire?
 Your readers are interested in the clothes I design, not me."

"No, Julian, you're wrong.
 People are always interested in someone like you.  Don't tell me no one's asked to interview you before."

"Yes, but that was because of Susanna, mainly after her death.
 I refused to talk about her then and word got around that I didn't give interviews and after a while they stopped bothering me.  No one has wanted to do a profile on just me.  I'm not a celebrity."

"Yes you are.
 You're one of the top names in fashion design here in L.A. and you have a romantic past.  Not that I'd make that the centre of my article."

She went on to tell him her ideas, her eyes sparkling, and he realised this wasn't just a commission from her editor, this was something she really wanted to do.
 He reached out and covered her hands, which were curled around her wineglass, with his own.

"You really want to do this, don't you?"

She looked at him, straight into his eyes.  "Yes, I do."  Then she looked down at their hands intertwined together on the white tablecloth.  "But I don't want you to say yes for that reason, if you really don't want to do it."