by Helen Karol
Understanding she had been dismissed, Claire rose and left the office, her thoughts whirling around her. Stella was right - she had wanted a chance at something more challenging. This series could be just what she had been looking for; the article on Julian especially. He was an interesting figure. Not only was he a well-known designer, but he had been married to a famous actress at an early age. She was aware of the media interest in him but she always ascribed that to his marriage to Susanna. She had never thought about it before, but now she realised he was just the kind of personality in his own right that the public were curious about. And he’d never been profiled before!
Would she be wrong to try and persuade him to allow her to do the article? Would he agree to it just to please her; but secretly hate it? No. He had too much self-respect to let her use him that way. He might do something he found inconvenient or irritating, but no matter how much he cared for her, he would never completely compromise his principles. She could broach the subject without worrying about taking advantage of their relationship, and she felt sure she could write the article without revealing his privacy. She would centre it around his work and only refer to Susanna in relation to how she may have influenced his designs. Yes, that approach would work well. She could give the readers just enough titillation without exposing any intimacies.
Claire's thoughts strayed away from the prospective article to her and Julian's relationship. How much he cared for her wasn't really the question. He made no secret of the fact that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her. What Claire was unsure of were her own feelings. She knew she was attracted to him and she spent most of her free time with him, but she wasn't sure if she loved him.
Their truce ended two weeks ago. Although they were not lovers in the complete sense, they had become physically intimate to a certain extent. The occasion that marked the beginning of this change was the Saturday afternoon four weeks after Claire's return.
She drove over from her apartment to have lunch at his house. Afterwards they settled down to enjoy a game of chess together. They were both good at the game and usually neither spoke, engrossed with the challenge to their skills. But this particular afternoon, Claire found it hard to concentrate on anything except Julian as he bent over the chess table.
At first it appeared he was having no similar problems, until she was sure she caught his eyes on her cleavage instead of the board. His eyes dropped at once, and remembering their agreement she let the incident pass, until he made a completely ridiculous move that revealed his mind was no more on the game than hers. At this point, Claire knocked over her king and smiled up at him wickedly, her words, although relevant to the game, holding a double meaning.
"I surrender."
Then moving around the chess table, she shimmied herself provocatively beside his wary figure on the couch, looking up at him through her eyelashes in a very flirtatious manner. "Now that's taken care of ... you wanna fool around?
Julian attempted to keep his face straight. "No. We have an agreement, remember." Righting her king, he indicated the armchair she had vacated and told her, "Get back there and finish the game."
"I'd rather play a different game. We didn't establish a time limit on our truce, only until I'd had a breathing space. It's been a month now and all my lusty feelings for Richard have evaporated." She moved closer to him, insinuating herself under his arm, informing him shamelessly, "It's your body I'm after now.”
Julian removed his arm, but she could tell from the look in his eye she was gaining ground. Deciding her best ploy was to retreat and give him a better view of what he was missing, she stretched out on the couch, her head resting on her arms at the other end, her bare foot massaging his arm, treating him to the sight of her naked legs revealed by her brief shorts. Much to her chagrin, he rested his gaze on the chessboard, ignoring her completely.
"Julian, are you gay?"
He gave a short laugh at this and fixed her with amused eyes. "That's not going to work. I’m immune to insults."
"Insults? Tut-tut, that's not a very progressive attitude, is it?"
"Your question was not voiced in a progressive manner."
Claire allowed her foot to continue its exploration moving down to caress his thigh. "Yes it was. It's all part of my plan to progressively seduce you."
Laughing, he pulled her towards him by her foot, running his hand caressingly over her leg. "What happened to that nice, respectable, young woman I used to know? When did she turn into a sexy, little temptress?"
Taking full advantage of his change of attitude, she moved over and settled herself in his lap. "Round about the same time you turned into a gorgeous, sexy hunk."
Putting his arms around her, he ran his fingers through her hair, which she wore informally around her shoulders. "Hunk. That's hardly a description that applies to me."
"What! Don't tell me you don't know how good-looking you are."
"I won't argue the point, but I am just a little too pretty for hunk material."
Angered that he should denigrate his virility, Claire narrowed her eyes and proceeded to lecture him. "You listen to me, not all women pant after hairy apes. A hunk applies to any man who stirs shameless desires in women, as I'm sure you've noticed, you do in me. And I've been watching when we go out together, you may not notice the way women look at you, but I sure do."
He still didn't look convinced, so she elaborated. "You know what I thought when I first saw you, I thought you looked like a Greek god." Ignoring his disbelieving look, she traced his jaw. ''Course, your jaw's a little too strong, but I allowed myself a certain amount of romantic license - I told you I was a very romantic teenager and eighteen was the peak of my romantic stage."
"Eighteen, I thought you were nineteen."
"Actually, I was twenty when we first met. But I'm not talking about then, I saw you once at a party I went to with my father. We were never introduced, that's why you don't remember."
"You never told me."
Claire shrugged. "The opportunity never arose before. Never mind that. We were discussing how you are hunk material, and how you stir shameless desires within me." She paused, considering. "I think you're eyes have a lot to do with it. I have a thing about eyes. 'Course, I also have a thing about broad shoulders..." Her hands moved over his shoulders, "... and forearms." Walking her fingers up his chest, she undid the first few buttons of his shirt with deceptive slowness. Then she thrust apart his shirt and buried her face in his chest, playfully, her words muffled against him, filled with laughter. "…and manly chests with just enough hair on them." Lifting her head she met his eyes, which like hers were brimming over with fun, and something else. "To tell you the truth, I just have a thing about you.
"Taking her chin in his hand, he told her. "I'm glad to hear it, considering I have a thing about you."
Claire tilted her head back invitingly and asked him softly. "In that case, don't you think it's time you did something about it?"
He lowered her, shifting, so they were both stretched out on the couch. Instead of kissing her, as she expected, his fingers traced her features in a leisurely exploration. She liked the feel of his touch against her skin, but she wanted to feel his lips against her. Finally she could stand it no longer and she demanded in exasperated tones.
"Damn it, Julian. Kiss me!"
He looked at her in pretended surprise. "Am I supposed to? I thought you were seducing me."
Claire glared at him. Enough was enough! She was only prepared to throw herself at him so much. Rising, she intended to push him off and remove herself from his reach. Julian foiled her attempts by pushing her back down and kissing her softly, but extremely thoroughly. By the time his lips moved on to other areas, allowing her air, her cheeks were flushed a delightful shade of pink. His lips trailed across her cheek, over her eyes, his tongue flicking in the shell of her ear.
As his tongue continued its exploration, she recovered sufficiently to begin some travels of her own. Her arms crept
around his neck, her fingers trailing across his nape, rolling his curls around her fingers. She brought her hands down under his arms to encircle his back, pulling his shirt out of his jeans, running her fingers under it to caress his bare skin. He felt warm and good to her touch and she could feel her desire for him slowly mounting.
He shifted, so his back was no longer accessible to her, but she didn't complain when she realised the reason behind his movements. Slowly, he undid the buttons of her blouse. Claire rarely wore a bra and when he had finished the task, her breasts were fully available to his admiring gaze. He didn't touch them at first, bending to flick his tongue around her navel, increasing her anticipation, so that when his tongue did reach them, she moaned and squirmed.
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 do
orman 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.
