Harry takes a step forward and she feels an urge to do the same, but she resists, telling herself sternly that she can't give in, especially not now, not here where Diaspora is keeping an eye on their every move and CCTV is everywhere. Besides, nothing has changed since last week, since she'd told him she can't see him any more. All the same objections exist in her mind, regardless of how warm his gaze is and how much she wants him. "I'll get the management to ask him to turn it down," she says and resolutely turns away.
"Ruth," he calls, but she doesn't turn back.
"Goodnight, Harry," she says instead and walks resolutely through her bedroom door. Just before the door closes behind her, she hears him sigh deeply and she can't help feeling guilty and so sad that she's causing him this pain. She rests her back and head against the door and closes her eyes, fighting back the tears that spring to her eyes. She loves him; God help her, but she's in love with Harry Pearce, her boss. And she can't deny that what she wants most right now is to find herself in his arms, in his bed, to lose herself in their love making, to feel him inside her. It would be so easy to just let it happen, and yet... If only it were that simple. She's not even sure what exactly are his feelings for her. Her heart whispers to her that he's in love with her. Why else would he risk their professional relationship, risk undermining his authority, share his dreams of Grand Tours through Europe? He's not a man who opens up to others readily, and even though she's had several small glimpses of the man he is below the mask he wears almost all the time, she knows that the secrets he carries run very deep. They must do; he's been a spook for too many years. And that's another thing that holds her back. Loving a man such as Harry is not easy, but dating him would be a thousand times harder.
She sighs as she pushes herself away from the door, resolving to think about him no more and try to get some sleep. She goes to the bathroom to take her shower and get ready for bed, the hot water helping her to relax a little, but when she's slipped into her silk nightgown and has slid under the covers, leaning back against the pillows and closing her eyes, sleep proves to be elusive. No matter how hard she tries, she can't get him out of her head; her thoughts kept drifting back to him. What is he doing, she wonders. Is he asleep, or is he also lying awake thinking of her? What would it feel like to kiss him? To find herself in his arms, in his bed, making love to him? To wake up next to him tomorrow morning?
The same thoughts drift round and round inside her head for what seems like hours before she sighs heavily as she realises that this is obviously not going to work; she's never going to fall asleep at this rate. Perhaps a walk would help clear her head, she thinks and gets up. She dresses and quietly leaves her room, walking through the silent hotel and out into the night.
"Good evening, Ruth," the officer on duty says with a smile.
"Good evening, Chris. Just popping out for some fresh air," she explains and watches him nod before turning towards the door. Once outside, she realises that she's made the right decision. The air is wonderfully crisp and invigorating, and after she's taken a few deep breaths, she feels much better. It's a little chilly tonight, so she sets off on a brisk walk around the front garden, keeping close to the hotel and its well lit paths. By the time she's made the full circuit and she finds herself in front of the main entrance again, she discovers that it's already one in the morning. Time for bed, she thinks, or tomorrow she's going to suffer for it. So she turns in, murmuring a good night to Chris and making her away back upstairs.
She takes the lift to the third floor, but though outside it had been easy to distract herself from thoughts of Harry, now her thoughts gravitate towards him once more, and she finds herself analysing everything again, wondering it her basic assumptions are perhaps wrong. Is she being overly cautious, she wonders. Is she making things more complicated than they have to be? Other team members seem to be having affairs left, right and centre. And just three weeks ago, she'd heard a most convincing rumour that Archie Draves, the head of C Section, is having an affair with one of the junior members of his team. And come to think of it, she hasn't heard anything on the subject since. Perhaps gossip really doesn't last as long as she fears; perhaps these people all have the right idea about how this should work; perhaps she's over analysing things again.
But the problem is that she knows that she's a very loyal person. She's not in and out of love much, and when she falls for someone like she has for Harry, she falls hard and finds it so very difficult to forget and move on when things turn sour. And she knows that this makes her very vulnerable. If she lets her relationship with Harry go any further, become more intimate, there is a good chance that she'll get hurt. And if she's really honest with herself, that's what scares her most and what's really holding her back. But what good is it to hold back every time someone special comes along, to be so cautious that you let all opportunities pass you by? There's always the risk that you'll get hurt, but if you don't take any chances, you might miss out on a chance for something precious, something wonderful, something you've been hoping for all your life - an opportunity for true happiness.
The lift doors open and she walks slowly down the hall, lost in thought and barely noticing where she is. She's almost reached her room when she suddenly stops short. This is ridiculous, she tells herself. She's acting like a child. The least she could do is talk to the man, have a conversation with him like an adult, discuss all these little details, all the things that worry her and listen to what he has to say. Surely she can manage that. So, having made up her mind to try, she briskly makes her way to her room, goes inside and puts her phone on the bedside table before turning around and making her way to Harry's room fearing that if she doesn't do this now, she'll chicken out again. She raises her hand to knock... and pauses, suddenly remembering the time. This is crazy, she thinks, he's probably asleep. She sighs and places her palm flat against the door. Bloody typical, she thinks. She's finally made the decision and plucked up the courage to talk to him about it, to possibly give them a chance, and it happens in the early hours of the morning when he's sleeping.
Harry's awake; he can't even contemplate sleep. He just can't understand it any more. Why does she keep pulling away? They'd shared a lovely, intimate dinner; he'd felt a deep connection to her; he loves her and wants her, and he knows that she's interested in him too, in being more than just his colleague and friend. He's sure of it, and he's equally sure that she's scared. He saw it in her eyes tonight just before she walked away from him in the hall, and he can't for the life of him work out what he should do next. Should he press harder? Should he back off?
He realises that he's pacing again in frustration and it brings to mind that time when he'd applied to become the DG. Ruth had seemed sad at the possibility that he might leave Section D.
"Hypothetically, Harry, you wouldn't forget about us would you when you are pacing the thickly carpeted floor of your new office?" she'd said.
"I didn't know I paced, Ruth," he'd replied.
"Only in a good way," was her response.
He smiles at the recollection. She cares about him; he's sure of it. He sighs and sits down in a chair, covering his face with his hands. He's tired and needs to sleep, he realises, or tomorrow he won't be any use to anyone, and despite his troubles with Ruth, he's on operation here and he needs to keep a level head. So he gets up and goes to the bathroom, entering the shower and letting the hot water cascade down his body and drain away the tension.
When he walks out of the bathroom wearing one of the hotel robes and rubbing his hair dry with a towel, something unusual catches his eye as he crosses the room to the bed. There is a shadow under the door, the kind that can only be caused by someone standing right outside his room. He waits, his eyes never leaving the shadow as he takes a few steps closer, but the person doesn't stir. Five seconds pass, then ten, fifteen and still the person doesn't move. Intrigued, he decides that the bold approach is the best, so he walks up to the door, tossing the towel onto a chair as he passed it, puts his hand on the handle and pulls it open.
He can't quite believe his eyes. She's standing there, her right hand frozen in mid-air, her palm facing him as if it had been resting against his door before he'd yanked it open. She looks startled, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but as she lifts her eyes to his, he can't help the way his heart leaps or the hope that blossoms in his chest.
Ruth's momentarily stunned as she realises that not only has Harry not been sleeping, but that it looks like he's just come out of the shower, and while she's recovering from the shock of having him so close, dressed in nothing but a flimsy hotel robe, he takes a step towards her, just like he'd done earlier, and her outstretched hand comes to rest against his chest, right over his heart. She can feel his heart racing and the heat from his chest through the thin fabric of his robe, and her own heart rate shoots up as if trying to match his. She glances at her hand resting so intimately against his heart and then looks back at his eyes, hesitating as all the things she wanted to tell him, talk to him about slip from her mind like sand through a sieve. She's never been this close to him before - not like this, in a hotel room with one of them barely dressed – and it's wrecking havoc with her senses and turning her normally quite sharp mind to mush.
She sees a shadow of doubt cross his face, and instinctively, she senses that this is a turning point. Everything that she hopes and fears hangs in the balance at this moment in time. The invitation in his eyes is unmistakable. It is the same look he gave her earlier and yet... things are different this time; she's talked herself into the possibility of giving them a chance. She wants to talk to him about it, to formulate a plan, but as she looks into Harry's eyes, she realises that she'll never forgive herself if she doesn't let herself experience making love to him at least once. They can talk in the morning and figure out if they can make this work, but right now, all she wants is him, to feel loved by him and to love him in turn. She lifts her left hand to his chest, and grabbing the soft fabric of his robe with both hands, she gently pulls him towards her.
He takes a step towards her, feeling her outstretched hand rest on his breast, right over his heart, and he's sure that the heat from her hand will leave a mark on his skin forever. His heart is thundering in his chest now and his mouth has gone dry as he watches her slowly lift her eyes to his, but when their gazes finally collide, he falters, seeing the doubt flicker through her eyes. What is she thinking, he wonders. Why is she here if not to be with him? "Patience, Harry," he tells himself, feeling his stomach begin to tie itself in knots. "Just wait for her to make the next move. If she wants this, she will."
He watches as the emotions play across her face, desire vying with doubt and fear, and then something else, something he can't quite put his finger on flickers in her eyes for a moment, but he's distracted by her left hand rising to his chest and he doesn't get a chance to figure out what it is before he feels her pull him towards her. He smiles, feeling the joy surge through him as he realises that she wants him and he wraps his arms around her, bending his head down to kiss her. Their lips meet and he almost groans at the jolt of electricity he feels at the contact. He's wondered what it would be like to kiss her for how long now? Months? Years? And it's so much better than he's imagined. He parts his lips in invitation, and as she responds eagerly, sliding her tongue boldly forward to meet his, he hears himself moan, his breathing getting heavier.
"You think I am a limited man. You think I don't understand the emotional side. Self-control, self-denial: these are the things that keep us together in this job," he'd said to her once. He'd already decided to give up his self-denial when it comes to her, but he hadn't expected to lose his self-control as well. His arms tighten around her as desire surges through his body like wildfire, sharpening his senses and dulling his mind, so that when, moments later, he feels her struggle in his arms, he pulls back in alarm, releasing her abruptly and taking a step back. Has he misinterpreted her intentions, he thinks worriedly, shaking his head to clear it as he leans against the door frame for support and lifts his gaze to hers while he struggles to calm his breathing and racing heart. "Sorry," he croaks, his gaze begging for forgiveness, fearing that he's made a terrible mistake again.
"Don't be," she smiles up at him making his heart swell with hope. "I just wanted to free my hands." Then to his utter surprise, she takes a step forward and slowly unties his belt, and next moment, her hands are inside his robe, gliding over his bare skin, up his sides, down his back, roaming freely over his body and sending tremors up and down his spine. He gasps at the first contact and groans as he pulls her close again, plunging into another passionate kiss.
Dimly, he realises that they're still standing in the doorway to his room with the door open, in full view of any passers by and probably several security cameras, so he begins to walk backward into the room, without breaking their embrace, pulling Ruth with him, pushing the door with his foot, and hearing it close behind them.
The passion surges through her body blocking out everything else, quelling the momentary horror she felt at her boldness as she pulled Harry's robe open. Every part of her body that he touches seems to come alive, her skin lighting up and catching fire. Her lips are swollen from his kisses and she can feel an ache deep in her belly that she knows only he can fill. He's trailing kisses along her jaw line now, pulling her head back and making her moan aloud with pleasure. His hands are tugging on her blouse, sliding underneath it and she feels herself tremble as his fingers caress her back, gliding delicately against her skin and making her body burn. Impatiently she pushes his robe off his shoulders and feels him release her for a moment as he lets it slip to the floor before tugging her shirt up. She lifts her arms to help him pull it off and then lets her bra fall away as she feels him unclasp it. "My God, you're so beautiful, Ruth," he murmurs in a husky voice before he leans forward, pressing his lips and hands against her skin and sending new waves of pleasure straight through her, making her knees tremble as she struggles to stay upright.
He pulls her further into his room, moving towards the bed as he sucks on each one of her nipples in turn, delighting in the sounds of approval she makes. She's so beautiful, her skin soft and creamy, warm and deliciously sweet. She smell of flowers and feels so wonderful that he has trouble controlling his desire to sink himself into her right away. He feels the bed behind him, so he turns around, slowly lowering her onto the covers, leaning over her as she lies across it, unable to pull away from the sweet, softness of her breasts. When he does finally manage to pull back and look at her, she takes his breath away as she lies there smiling up at him, her eyes full of love and passion. His gaze roams down her body as he whispers words of admiration and he tugs the rest of her clothes off, sliding them slowly off her until she's lying there gloriously naked in his bed.
"I love you, Ruth," he whispers against her lips as he leans over her, admitting out loud for the first time the depth of his feelings for her.
Her heart leaps as she hears those three little words and she feels tears spring to her eyes. "I love you too," she murmurs in reply as she blinks back the moisture and smiles up at him, watching his beautiful hazel eyes light up with pleasure. Then he lowers his lips to hers and they both lose themselves in a whirlwind of desire and love. He uses his hands and lips to rock her body to the core with such strong, powerful sensations as she's never experienced before, her desire building to such extremes that she's unable to think straight any longer. Never in her life has she lost control like this.
She's driving him wild. He can feel her skin humming under his touch as if he's a master violinist and she his instrument. He kisses her breasts, taking each of her hard nipples in his mouth and caressing them with his tongue, while his hands touch and stroke her most intimate parts as he listens to her gasp one moment and groan with pleasure the next. Her hands are all over his body, teasing him, caressing him, loving him, pushing him nearer and nearer to the limits of his self-control. He struggles to hold back, wanting to make this last and finding it more and more difficult to hold himself in check, wanting desperately to find himself inside her.
"I need you, Harry," she moans, suddenly pushing him over onto his back, taking him by surprise. She rolls on top of him, and before he really knows what's happening, he's slowly gliding into her warm, slick passage. Above his own groans of delight, he can hear her quite, drawn out moan of pleasure as he enters her, and once he sheaths himself in her completely, she murmurs his name, infusing it with so much love and passion that it makes him want to hear it over and over again for ever. He's never known such a perfect match before, her tender heat fully accommodating his cock, her breasts fitting in his palms just perfectly, their rhythm utterly harmonious.
She opens her eyes, and as their gazes meet, the connection between them is so deep that everything around them fades to black and it's as if the two of them are utterly along, transported out of time and place. Nothing else matters; nothing else exists. Pleasure surges through him in waves, each one stronger than the last as she rocks herself on top of him, slipping him gently in and out of her, and he whispers her name over and over again.
"Lie on your stomach," he says huskily, so she slips off him and lies down, loving the feeling of being crushed into the bedding by his substantial weight as he lowers himself on top of her and slips back inside her. She moans in pleasure, her sensitive flesh sparking as he begins to ride her, slowly at first and then faster and faster, his body covering her completely, his hands on top of hers, their fingers interlocked. Wave upon wave of pleasure travels through her body, building the tension inside her until she explodes in a mind blowing rush of ecstasy that catapults her body and mind into heaven.
She calls out his name as he feels her muscles spasm and contract around him, pulling him with her straight over the edge and into oblivion as he plunges deep inside her, spilling his seed into her most secret place.
"Ruth," he breathes in bliss and collapses on top of her.
His whole body and mind have melted like wax and he can't move or think right now, but only feel as the delicious sensations travel through him in waves. Somehow he finds the strength to roll onto his side, pulling Ruth with him and nuzzling into her neck as he wraps his body around hers, and it's as if time stands still as they lie together, their bodies still joined in the act of making love.
She looks beautiful and care free in her sleep, he thinks as his eyes travel lovingly over her face, and he can't quite believe his luck. Just a few hours ago it seemed that this moment was impossible, forever out of reach. Yet here she is, Ruth, lying beside him, her full lips slightly parted and her eyelashes like delicate fans resting against her flushed cheeks. The duvet they'd eventually managed to cover themselves with last night has slipped down, exposing the top of her perfect breasts and he can't take his eyes off her. Last night had been the most amazing sex he's ever had, and this morning, he feels on top of the world and years younger. He's absolutely certain now that they're made for each other, that they're meant to be together. He smiles at the thought, and as he watches, her eyelashes part and he's suddenly staring into her beautiful blue eyes.
She blinks a couple of times and smiles shyly as their gazes meet. He's lying on his right side, with his elbow bent and his hand supporting his head, and she can't help wondering how long he's been watching her. She feels a little self-conscious at the thought and reaches her hands forward to pull the covers up, turning onto her side to face him. The covers have slipped down to his waist and she can't help admiring his strong upper body as she briefly lets her gaze roam over him before she looks up at his eyes again, blushing at the knowing look he gives her and the sensual smile on his lips. He knows that she was checking him out and is obviously pleased with the admiration he sees in her eyes.
"Good morning, Ruth," he murmurs, his voice deep and warm. It makes her almost shiver with pleasure and she's surprised by how much she suddenly wants him. His gaze is full of love and tenderness and it delights her, to see this softer side of Harry Pearce, one she's sure not many people know, and it sends a thrill straight through her to know that she's been singled out by him, to know that he trusts her enough to open up to her like this.
"Good morning, Harry," she smiles, her mind filling up with recollection of last night, the most magical time she's ever known.
"Did you sleep well?" he asks softly as he reaches a hand up to push a strand of her hair that's fallen loose back behind her ear.
"Oh, yes. Very well," she replies as she continues to smile up at him. In fact, she's unable to stop smiling such is the happiness she's feeling right now. "Did you?"
"Never better," he grins and she knows she's never seen him look so happy. He leans forwards then and captures her lips with his, making her sigh with pleasure as she shuffles closer to him, wrapping her arms around him when he draws her against him.
'Beep,' Harry's pager sounds in the stillness, but they barely hear it, lost as they are in their kiss. Harry's lying practically on top of her now and she can feel his arousal pressing insistingly against her leg as her hands travel over his broad back and one of his thumbs strokes her breast and nipple, making her groan with want.
'Beep,' it sounds again and Harry sighs as he pulls slowly out of the kiss, resting his forehead against hers for a moment as he fights to catch his breath and rein in his desire.
"What have you done to me, Ruth?" he murmurs as he lifts his head to look at her. She's smiling up at him and he watches as she shrugs her shoulders adorably, nearly making him forget about the pager and continue from where they'd left off. He sighs again and closes his eyes, fighting against his desire to spend all day with her in bed. It takes him a few moments, but in the end, he manages to reimpose his rigid self-control on himself, and with superhuman effort, he presses a soft kiss against her lips and rolls over, picking up his phone and saying, "Time to start work."
He hears her sigh as he dials through to the Op Centre and listens as Adam brings him up to speed. "I'll be right there," he declares when Adam's finished speaking, ending the call quickly as Ruth walks past him wearing nothing but the small towel he'd used to dry his hair last night.
"Come here," he growls, but she shakes her head.
"You'll have to wait until later," she replies as she disappears into the bathroom. "We have work to do."
He sighs but knows that she's right, so he quickly picks up their clothes, putting his away and draping Ruth's over the chair by the bathroom door, but as he pulls on the robe he'd discarded last night and walks over to the wardrobe to choose some clean clothes for today. He suddenly remembers something that has him frowning in worry and walking towards the bathroom door instead. "Ruth," he calls through the door as he taps lightly against it.
"Yes?" she replies as she opens the door, smiling up at him.
"Last night," he begins, "we didn't... use anything... any contraception."
"Oh," she murmurs and frowns in concern. She hadn't even thought about that. "I'll go to the doctor," she says after a few seconds. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
"That's good," he smiles and she can see the relief spread across his face. Then he reaches down and kisses her and before either of them know what's happening, she's pressed up against the wall, her right leg wrapped around his waist as she feels him slip inside her. It's hard and fast, and by far the most exhilarating and passionate coupling she's ever experienced, the limited time they have adding to the excitement and intensity of the experience and their climax when it comes. He presses his lips against hers in a fierce kiss as they reach their peak together, swallowing each other's cries of pleasure as they both try and fail to come quietly, the intensity of their climax making it impossible.
"Harry," she breathes once she can speak again as she clings to him for support. "That was... that was..."
"I know," he smiles, pressing a soft kiss against her hair as he holds her close.
"Do you think anyone heard?" she whispers.
"I don't know," he admits. "But if we're going to keep this to ourselves for now, which I assume is what you want, we should probably wait until after the conference is over to do this again."
"Yes," she sighs.
Then she feels him pull back and look down at her, murmuring with a smile, "Now it really is time to get to work, or else they'll come looking for both of us." And with that he takes her by the hand and leads her back into the shower. "We'll do this again sometime when we have time to enjoy it together," he says softly, "but now I really must rush." She nods in understanding and lets him go first, watching him as he quickly lathers himself with soap and rinses it away, marvelling at the intimacy of the moment and at the fact that he's letting her do this, he wants her to do this.
It takes him probably less than a couple of minutes to finish washing and then he steps close, pressing a soft kiss against her lips and saying, "I'll see you later." Then he steps out of the shower and turns to her, adding, "I'll text you when it's safe for you to get out of here. Will about ten minutes be enough time for you to dress?"
"Yes," she smiles, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Sounds perfect. Thank you."
"My pleasure," he smiles and turns to grab a towel. She sighs as she turns away and steps under the shower, and as she washes herself once more, all the reasons why she didn't want this relationship seem small and insignificant and she knows that, though they still need to talk, she won't be able to walk away from this now. She's determined to find some way to make things work.