He was stroking her hair, rough fingers slipping through the silken strands. It was an absent gesture and Alex doubted that he was really paying much attention to where he was or what he was doing.
His free hand clutched the glass of red wine... but he'd hardly taken a sip. And it wasn't because he was distracted by the sensation of her body pressed against his.
She would have given anything to know what was going through his head but Alex resisted the urge to ask. He hadn't come to her for psychoanalysis.
Gene Hunt had once admitted that he was a lonely man. Outside of 'lunch' at Luigi's, he rarely sought the company of his peers. Alex should have been flattered that he was here... but somehow his tender caress was scaring her more than any ranting and raging. A touch so sure and so gentle that it felt like he'd been holding her forever. She wondered if he was planning to stay all night.
"Gene," she ventured, hating herself for breaking the silence.
He looked down at her, and Alex felt something twist in her gut. The expression in his eyes as he bent his head towards hers ... Oh God, he was going to...
She pulled away, making a pretence of reaching for the wine bottle but the glass slipped from her fingers and shattered. She couldn't help but watch in morbid fascination as the red stain spread across the carpet. Blood... it looked like blood. She bent down but he caught her wrist before she could pick up the shards.
"Careful Bolly," he said, letting his fingers twine with hers.
Alex tore herself free, making a dash for the kitchen under the pretence of getting a cloth to wipe up the spill. Once there, she found herself leaning over the sink, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain a measure of control. She couldn't understand why she was so scared. Gene wasn't the first man to try to kiss her and Alex was sure he wasn't going to be the last. But this man... this man... she couldn't do this. She could let herself get close to Gene... to this world. That had been Sam Tyler's mistake.
"Alex...?"
She turned to see him standing behind her, his coat on.
"I should..." he gestured towards the door.
"Yeah."
"Right."
Alex wanted to call after him, to crawl back to the moment of peace and contentment. She must have made some kind of sound because he paused at the door.
"I meant what I said... 'bout you and me," he said, not looking at her.
"I know," Alex replied, finding her voice at last.
"Good."
And then he was gone. It was good, it was all good, Alex told herself as she felt the tears slide down her cheeks. She would have hated for him to see her cry.
