# # # # July, 11, 2014 - c1 reworked # # # #
Author's note: I don't own any of the original characters nor the original Inspector Lynley Mysteries – they belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC.
I have borrowed the characters and solely own the ideas and the developments I've let them go through.
Please let me know if I did something terribly wrong (rating, grammar, spelling...). Thanks!
Reviews and comments are very welcome!
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This is just a fluffy little piece. It is written in one go (well, actually in two... been disturbed, now it's three...) and has no real plot - just a view.
Enjoy it!
UPDATE: c1 and c2 reworked (no real change, just a few words changed/added), c3-5 added - there's more to see ;-)
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She was still slightly sweating though it was night by now and she was wearing thin linnen trousers, a light spaghetti strap top and sandals. All her appearance was very unusual for her but the hot summer's day dictated light clothings. Every little movement had been too much this day and she already had showered a second time to cool off a bit.
His butler had opened the door for her, led her into the cool living room and offered a glass of cold water before he excused himself and disappeared somewhere in the depth of the house. He did not ask anything and she was very glad that she had not to explain that her small flat had been too stuffy and too claustrophobic to think clear or to get some sleep. Why she had chosen to come here of all places was something she had wondered about only when the door opened. Then it was too late to turn and go somewhere else. Hopefully he neither would ask.
All windows of the room were open due to the heat. She stepped out onto the balcony and let her gaze wander across the little park right behind his house. The lawn was being watered right then and there was a cool rising damp in the air, something fresh hovered up to her.
What a luxury! she thought enviously.
In the park were some smaller sycamores and two enormous chestnut trees and on a wall nearby with a white wooden bench next to it there was a big white bushy rose tree in full bloom which last had seen a gardener's hand probably many years ago thus looking very wild and romantic. Its rich scent indulged the senses so she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply for a while.
The night was dark, still the sky was lit up by the never sleeping city of London that made stars invisible. Only the crescent moon could be seen above the dark orange canopy the beaming city behind the trees projected into the nightblue sky.
It was totally quiet at this time of the night and so she was able to hear his naked feet pad on the wooden floor of his living room when he walked in behind her. She even could hear his breath. She did not turn for a while. She simply was self-conscious how to explain why on earth she was here. But she was not startled at all when he finally spoke.
"So, you like what you see?"
Now Barbara turned and looked at Tommy. She did not answer immediately.
His dark gaze captured her. There was something of a gentle peace of mind glowing in his eyes, the little wrinkles in the corners showed his delight, the twitch in his smiling lips encouraged her to speak.
But she still did not know what to say. She was lost in the view. Her own gaze had to drink in his full appearance.
His hair was tousled and still damp and some waterdrops on his neck had escaped his quick drying, now running slowly down his chest, tantalizingly passing his areola. He had nothing on but a little white towel wrapped around his hips, revealing his naked upper body. His strong arms were leisurely akimbo, his bare muscular chest with some lovely greyed hair was rising and falling in the rhythm of his deep breaths, the not quite so muscular belly seemed to be sucked in to appear flatter.
She knew that he knew that she was feasting on his sight. And he knew that she knew that he indulged in her staring.
And much to her appreciation she registered the dark hair visible underneath his bellybutton. Involuntarily she opened her mouth and moistened her bottom lip. The towel was really small and hang very low on his hips. The pelvic bones led her eyes to the bulge under the white terrycloth that so sexily counteracted with his dark skin, having been sunbathed in Cornwall for the last two weeks. Her look went further down picturing his well shaped thighs under the cloth, watching his bare knees, his calves and finally his feet, standing now in a little puddle of water where the towel could so easily fall down to.
Finally she came back to some senses. She was blushed to the roots of her hair when she realized that she still had not said a word to his question. She cleared her throat and blinked once. Her voice was lower and huskier than she intended when she looked up again meeting his dark and tender eyes and finally answered.
"Indeed I do."
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