"Mr Poldark? Ross Vennor Poldark?" Demelza asked breathlessly, keys tinkling in her hand as she slammed her hands down on the counter. The police officer looked at her curiously.
"Down there, first left."
Demelza ran, the hem of her nightgown trailing wetly on the floor behind her. Ross' location was immediately obvious due to the amount of noise coming from it.
"What are you charging me with?! At least explain the charge!" he yelled as the barred door closed with a clang.
"We've already told you, Sir, you're under arrest for intimidating a witness."
"But I haven't even spoken to anyone here!" he shouted angrily, slamming his hands against the bars of his temporary holding cell, "You can ask my lawyer, she's been with me all the time, I've only spoken to my lawyers and my housekeeper! Let me out!"
Demelza ran forward and grabbed the hands that were resting on the bars. Ross leaned forward to kiss her hard through the bars, grasping her hands too.
"What am I here for? What are they talking about?"
He was sodden, his hair sticking to his skin, water dripping off him to form pools by his feet. His grey shirt was turned almost black with saturation and Demelza was much the same. Her own hair was dripping uncomfortably and she bit her lip, leaning forward to answer before she was manhandled by a police officer.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" yelled Ross angrily, "Let her go!"
"Excuse me, madam, Mr Poldark is not allowed any visitors until he's processed," explained the officer, ignoring Ross completely.
"I'm not a visitor," she said tersely, shaking her arm out of his grip, "I'm his lawyer."
The officer stared, his moustache twitching as he looked her up and down.
"Forgive me if I don't believe you, madam, but you look nothing like a lawyer, especially not Ross Poldark's lawyer."
"I'm Demelza Carne, I work for Dwight Enys as part of Ross Poldark's legal team in his trial, which is taking place tomorrow. I'm here to legally represent my client as is his right enshrined in law, which I believe you seek to uphold. What I wear or how I look has nothing to do with the job I'm here to undertake."
The officer was about to reply when Dwight walked in, tossing his umbrella aside. His suit was dry and the officer stared at him.
"Dwight Enys, legal counsel for Ross Poldark. Demelza, with me, please," he said briskly.
She glared at the officer and made her way over to where Dwight and Ross stood either side of the bars. She could see the anger in Ross' eyes and it was hard for him to keep a balanced voice.
"Why am I here? Which witness are they talking about?"
"I'm going to go and find out," said Demelza, "Mr Enys, you stay with Mr Poldark."
"Demelza, what in God's name are you wearing?" snapped Dwight, looking her over, "have some decency, take this."
He took off his suit jacket and threw it at her. She frowned and looked down at herself. She knew she was sodden and looked a mess, but that was when she realised that the barrage of rain she'd faced outside had rendered the pale coloured silk see through. She gasped and quickly donned the oversize jacket, walking over to the desk to speak to the officers who had arrested him.
"I don't know what's going on, honestly, I don't," muttered Dwight through the bars, "but did Demelza tell you about our newest line of inquiry?"
"Yeah, she did. I'm behind it, it's believable. Pursue it if you think it'll get us somewhere."
Ross sighed and moved away from the bars, pushing his mass of wet tangles back from his forehead, wiping his face clean and looking around the cell.
"Witness intimidation," he whispered, closing his eyes, "I don't even know who George's witnesses are."
Demelza reappeared looking serious and the three of them congregated at the bars again.
"Prudie called and insisted that you came over to her house and started asking her not to testify tomorrow. You reportedly became violent and then left, but she was in fear for her life so she called the police because she was worried you'd come over again."
Ross scoffed, too shocked to believe what she was saying.
"But I've been at home all night, you know that, you've been with me. Where are they getting this from?"
"Where is Prudie now? Where did she go from Nampara?" asked Dwight.
"Trenwith. To live with Charles Poldark," said Demelza darkly.
"Uncle said he took her in after she left Nampara and he was aware that she wanted to testify against me but he thought he'd be able to dissuade her and convince her that what she saw was just a dream or something," said Ross quickly.
Dwight and Demelza shared a look, making Ross feel uncomfortable.
"Anyhow, you're being released as the ankle tag's coordinates prove you were at home all evening."
"Thank fuck," came Ross' reply as the officer opened up the door he'd closed only a few moments ago and Ross stepped out, walking out quickly with Dwight and Demelza, getting soaked in the process. He didn't want to stay in there for longer than was necessary. They sent Dwight on his way with his suit jacket and Ross turned to the car Demelza had brought in a hurry.
"You drove my Maserati?" he asked incredulously, taking the keys from her. She sighed and walked towards the car.
"Yes, I drove your Maserati. It was the first car in the garage and I was more concerned about getting to you in time than finding an appropriate vehicle."
Ross shook his head in disappointment, wanting to check the car over for injury. He laughed and was about to open the door when everything went black. He felt a sharp pain at his forehead and steadied himself, turning to see a man dressed in black with his arm pulled back. Another sharp jab landed on his jaw and Ross had been in enough bar fights to know how to handle this. The man pulled back again, but Ross grabbed his fist and twisted it until he was bent over, kicking him twice in the neck with his shin and throwing him onto the floor. It was then that Ross noticed the man's face was covered up to his eyes with a black fabric, almost like a balaclava. The rain made it hard to differentiate the man from the pavement, but Ross grabbed him and dragged him upwards, intending to pull the mask off his face, but the man had other ideas. Two sharp punches to his forehead rendered him unsteady for a minute and he fell, his head hitting the corner of the car. He felt warm liquid wash away with cold rain just above his eye and groaned, forcing himself back up to see the man slam Demelza against the car. She was a flash of white in the sea of black and Ross moved towards him, grabbing the hand that was at Demelza's throat and sharply pulling it back until he heard a crack. He cried out in pain and Demelza opened the car door, motioning for Ross to get inside while she ran over to the driver's seat.
Ross, however, wasn't interested in leaving. Demelza watched the men exchange punches and stuck the keys in the ignition, turning the engine on. A well placed kick rendered the man immobile for a minute and he lay on the pavement groaning, clutching his stomach. Ross stamped once, twice for good measure and was about to reach forward to pull the balaclava off, but the man crawled away slowly and got up, clutching his stomach as he ran through the rain. They both stared after him and Ross caught his breath, turning back to lean against the car. He closed his eyes and lifted his head to the sky, letting the rain wash over his face. He felt blood dilute and trickle away down his neck, and he was about to touch his lip to feel the extent of the damage before he felt Demelza's lips on his. Hers were wet too, but warm and soft, welcoming him into her as she ran her hands up his soaking shirt, melting into him slightly. She could taste the coppery tang of blood, but she soothed the cut carefully with her tongue, the kiss much softer and giving than their first. Ross looked down at her and smiled, but she frowned and carefully touched his temple. He winced in pain and she took his hand, pulling him to get into the car.
During the drive home, they discussed who it could possibly be but short of 'someone who didn't Ross,' they didn't really have anyone in mind. Jud fussed over them when they returned home but Ross reassured him and sent him off to sleep, shutting his door carefully. He returned to the living room to see Demelza kneeling in front of the fire, her hair curling slightly as it dried. She was sorting through a first aid box, but he wiped his lip and forehead clean. It was good enough for him. Demelza, however, was hearing none of it and forcefully pulled him down to sit in front of her. He had to admit that the warmth of the fire was very welcome.
"Honestly, I don't know what possessed you," she murmured as she cleaned up his forehead, dabbing it with antiseptic, "who do you think you are, one of the Avengers?"
Ross chuckled and sat still, choosing not to tell her about his appetite for fighting. Although he'd been sober tonight, so that was good. He spied a bottle of whisky on the table and picked it up. She opened her mouth to say something but he'd already taken a sip.
"I'll say it's for the pain," she said with a grin, working on his lip gently.
Ross narrowed his eyes and brushed her hair out of the way to look at her neck.
"He bruised your neck," he said incredulously, "look, it's going blue."
"I'll be fine, it's just a bruise."
She brushed his hand away and finished with his lip, disposing of the cotton pad and closing the first aid box.
"Now you drink your whisky and get changed out of your wet clothes."
She turned away and grabbed a comb from her open suitcase, brushing through her hair in front of the fire to get it dry. Her clothes had stopped dripping but they were still damp. Ross leaned back against the base of the couch to watch her. It was strangely calming. He put his bottle down and watched her for a few minutes. She turned to him with raised eyebrows.
"I don't know why you're still here but if you want me to touch you in any way, I'm not doing it with soggy clothes."
She turned back to the fire and resumed her hair brushing, tugging through the thick, unruly locks. She hated how the rain always caused her to get the strangest tangles in the middle of her hair, but soon she'd brushed it all out smoothly, turning to see Ross setting his shirt aside in a sodden lump next to him.
"No soggy clothes, right? I can do that."
Demelza wanted to be cool, she so desperately wanted to be cool, like she'd done this a thousand times before. But if she there was anything she wasn't, it was cool. Ross picked up his bottle of whisky again and took a swig, allowing her time to look him over. It wasn't his stereotypically perfect physique that enchanted her, but his tattoos. She'd never seen them before. Some on his arms, some over his chest. Words, mostly, a crucifix here and there as well as a rose and a burning angel. She looked at them curiously, then spotted the chain he was wearing, from which hung a ring and a cross.
"What's that?"
He looked down and grasped the pendants, playing with them.
"My dad's wedding ring and my mother's necklace."
"So it's not you who's religious?" she asked with a smile, setting her comb down.
"No, I am. I was raised a Catholic, but I just…never seem to find time to go to church," he said with a small smile, "but here you see the fruit of my extensive diet," he patted his hard stomach, "I might eat a lot but it does me good, you see?"
"Ah, yes, no sign of your excessive drug consumption," she said with narrowed eyes, "and I bet your confession would last a whole day."
Ross laughed and sipped his whisky again, smiling at her. He moved closer and lay down so his head was in her lap, facing up at him. She smiled and played with his hair, combing it out with his fingers so it would dry quicker. It was heavy and curled thickly with the water even though he'd attempted to dry it with a towel. She leaned down to kiss his forehead and smiled at how relaxed he seemed. The bottle rested next to him and he stared up at the ceiling, sometimes at her, sometimes around the room lazily. He liked this, he liked the feeling of her fingers working through his hair, it made him feel at ease. The company of other people was nice but he was always acutely aware they were never sincere and no one but Verity and Francis seemed to want to come and help him when he needed help. But with Demelza, he felt different. He felt like she actually cared about him even though he'd only known her for such a short amount of time.
He closed his eyes as he felt her fingers trace patterns on his chest, her other hand playing with his hair. He could fall asleep like this, but he didn't want to. He got up and set his bottle of whisky on the table, helping Demelza up. He took her hand and walked up the stairs with her as he heard her sigh.
"Your first trial date is tomorrow and you seriously want to—"
"No, I don't," he replied, ushering her into her bedroom, "I can't have sex with someone who calls me Mr Poldark. I feel like I'm fucking my doctor."
Demelza burst out laughing and he grinned, closing the door.
It was morning before they knew it and Demelza touched up her powder, walking out and intending to wake Ross up. She leaned down to fix her heels and smoothed down her dress, checking herself in the landing mirror. It was a nice wraparound black dress, sombre enough for the first trial date, but not too….lawyer-y. She retied the bow on the side and did a double take, checking that everything was perfect before knocking on Ross' door.
"Mr Poldark? We're getting late, we really need to leave now. Are you ready?"
There was no sound from inside and Demelza was instantly worried. He seemed like he was ready to take everything seriously yesterday, he couldn't possibly still be asleep. She knocked again, harder this time.
"Mr Poldark? Session commences in half an hour and we still need to meet with Mr Enys and go through our statements, I really need you to—"
The door opened to reveal Ross fixing his jacket, looking up at her quickly.
"What do you think? I picked Gucci this time, still Italian cut but the brand has a bit of a different flair."
He fixed his cufflinks and Demelza looked him up and down. He did look good, she had to admit. Another smart, tailored suit with a black tie and a navy silk pocket square this time, his shoes tied in perfect bows.
"You look good," she said, reaching forward to fix his tie again, but he took her hand and pulled her into his bedroom, pushing her swiftly against the wall with his lips on hers. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back over and over as he pulled her hips against his, smiling against her lips.
"We're getting late," she whispered as he ran his hands firmly down the sides of her body, her skin tingling at his touch.
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" came his reply as he kissed her fiercely, his hands slipping under her dress to run up her thighs, his palms pressing against her skin as he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he broke away from her lips to pull off his jacket, tossing it in a heap behind him quickly. His hands were back on her body in less than a second and she felt the same hungry, growling kisses he'd given her the night before. Her hands wandered over his chest and back, feeling his muscles move under his shirt, trailing her fingertips over him until he shivered with her touch. She bit his lip this time, taking him by surprise. His eyes sparkled and he sucked her bottom lip slowly, tormenting her by reaching between them to slip his hand beneath her underwear again. She gripped his shoulders hard and tipped her head back, crying out as she felt his fingers inside her. There was no teasing this time, not like before. His fingers worked quickly, searching out that spot inside her that made her shake, panting against his lips. She squeezed his shoulders hard to support herself but he held her up, reaching down to rip her underwear again, tossing it where he'd left his jacket. She would have complained but no words came out and all she wanted was him inside her. She wanted to finish what they'd started the night before, she wanted him as close to her as he could be.
"Please, I need it, I need it," she breathed repetitively against his lips. He smirked and feathered her neck with kisses, reaching behind her to tug her hair free of that damn elastic and loosening his tie, almost ripping his top button in the process. He enjoyed the sound of her begging for a few moments, running his hands over her to squeeze her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as he tugged the neck of her dress down her shoulders and ghosted his fingers over her nipples lightly, making her shiver. She jumped slightly as he bit her neck, tugging at the skin.
"Please, please, I need—"
"I won't, not until you use my name," he whispered into her ear, his hand slipping down to stroke her again. He teased her this time, locking eyes with her, his fingers slipping up and down with the rocking motion of her hips. She groaned in frustration, panting as she pulled him closer, his fingers quickening against her. The corner of his mouth turned up wickedly as he brought her closer and closer, she panted faster as she kissed him, reaching down to push his fingers deeper inside her, but he pulled away all at once.
"My name, Demelza."
His eyes sparkled roguishly, boring into her and he bit her bottom lip, sinking his fingers deep, making her cry out.
"Ross! Ross, please!"
"Good girl."
The words came out in a growl against her ear, making her shudder, his fingers coated with fresh wetness. She heard the sound of his fly unzipping and all at once, she felt him deep inside her, deeper than his fingers had been, more than anything she'd ever felt in her life. It was too much for her, she threw her head back reflexively, each thrust making her tremble. She never realised her voice could be so loud, but Ross loved making her scream. He wound one hand in her hair, pulling it back hard to expose her neck, his tongue pressing and sucking, panting hotly against her skin. He wanted to devour her, to possess her in every way he could. All he could feel was her, all he could process and think and see and smell and feel. He could feel her fingers in her hair too just like the night before and grabbed her hip tight as she slammed into the wall over and over with the force of his thrusts. The faint aroma of his expensive cologne mixed with sweat and she leaned forward to lick it from his neck, running her tongue up over his jaw. He whispered obscenities into her ear, mixing between kissing her lips and biting her neck, running his hands all over to feel how her body responded when he was inside her. She felt so good inside, so wet and perfect for him, but what electrified Ross was the repeated scream of his name on her lips, her body trembling uncontrollably, babbling incoherently.
"I need to, I'm so close, I need to," she whined, "please, don't stop—"
"Again, Demelza, say it again."
His own voice was deep and low, dripping like honey as he slowed his thrusts. She cried her refusal desperately, squeezing his upper arms, rocking her hips in an effort to feel more. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't able to speak properly.
"No, please, don't stop!"
"Again, Demelza," he whispered fiercely, cupping her face with one hand. He ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, feeling her spasm around him, his eyes scanning her face, "say it for me, I want to hear it from your mouth. Who am I?"
Her entire body tingled with the force of his gaze, with the need coursing through her, but she knew what he wanted and she loved the way he asked for it.
"My name, Demelza," he pressed his lips against hers but didn't kiss her, reaching down to stroke just above where they joined. She whimpered, reaching down, but he pulled her hand away, his voice laced with want, "I want to hear it. I want to hear you whisper it, scream it."
"Ross," she breathed, her eyes fixated on his, only one word on her lips, "Ross…Ross, please….Ross…."
Ross kissed her savagely, bruising her lips with that one kiss, making sure she said his name one last time before he sank into her, his entire body melting as he heard her scream, opening his eyes to watch her, to try and engrave into his mind how good she looked when she took all of him inside her. Her fingers raked his upper back as she tightened around him, her cry echoing around the room as something welled inside her and released. He pulled her into a kiss, deeper and softer than any he'd shared with her before, wrapping his arms around her tight and he made no attempt to stifle his own growls and moans, both of them panting. They kissed over and over as if it'd help them get their breath back and she saw his eyes burning deep green. She leaned back against the wall, her chest rising and falling as she reached out to touch his face, running her hand down to his neck and up again. He turned his head to kiss her palm softly and let her down. She stumbled, gripping the wall for support. Her legs ached and she looked down to see handprints on her thighs from where Ross had held her. She leaned back against the wall, fixing her dress as she watched Ross pick up his jacket, buttoning it up meticulously. He checked his cufflinks and fixed his top button and tie, running his fingers through his hair to set his curls. He looked at her, then at his watch.
"We're late, come on."
His words were matter of fact but his eyes twinkled micheviously. Demelza laughed, still catching her breath as she reached for her underwear, lifting a torn scrap of black silk.
"I think you can do without that," remarked Ross, "it's a bit past use now, isn't it?"
She stared at him in surprise. He wanted her to go to court without any underwear on?
"I don't think there's time to get a new pair. Court's in session."
He walked out and pattered down the stairs, yelling up at her.
"Come on, Demelza, car's waiting!"
"Ross! Demelza! Where have you been?! For God's sake, we've been waiting for you for half an hour, the judge was about to adjourn!"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Mr Enys, there was traffic on the way from Nampara and we—"
"If there was traffic or some sort of hold up, you could have at least had the decency to inform me so I don't look like an idiot! My supporting lawyer and client have gone AWOL, how am I supposed to explain that!" whispered Dwight angrily as the judge gave George the okay to start his statement, "this is behaviour I didn't expect from you, Demelza! You're more professional than this! Ross, you could have been done for contempt of court, do you know that?!"
Ross sighed and straightened his tie, and that was when Dwight pulled back and surveyed them both. Demelza looked slightly dishevelled, her hair and dress out of place and her legs fidgeting under the table. She kept tugging at her dress and Ross seemed strangely relaxed. He played with his cufflinks and looked over at Demelza with a quiet grin. Dwight was astounded. He leaned over behind Demelza to get Ross' attention.
"Ross. Ross, are you and…? Have you….with Demelza? Don't try and shit me around, tell me the truth!"
Ross shrugged and looked at the judge. Dwight clenched his fists and felt like punching Ross there and then, but he'd get done for contempt of court instead.
"Ross, don't fuck with me."
"I'm not fucking with you. I'm fucking with her. What's your problem? If you like her, mate, you need to back off a bit. You're not her type," whispered Ross with a wink.
"I'm not inter…she's my….what the fuck?!"
He wanted to drag both Demelza and Ross out of the court room and unleash his anger on them, but he had a court session ahead of him and suddenly, all the notes he'd rehearsed had vanished from his mind. He sipped his water and tried to calm himself, picking up his phone as it buzzed. Ross leaned over as Demelza busily noted down George's main points.
"Dwight, look, don't get so tense about it, okay? It's a personal thing, it's got nothing to d—"
"Have you ever heard of never mixing business and pleasure, Ross? Or is pleasure your business? Don't try to fucking reason with me about something like this. I just got an email from the lab. Your uncle's prints don't match. We're back to square one."
He put his phone down angrily and stared straight ahead.
Ross froze, looking at where Dwight had been. He didn't register what he'd just said. The prints on the syringe weren't his uncle's? Then they were back to square one after all. All his nonchalance disappeared and he sat up straight on his seat, his mind running mad with probabilities and ideas. He needed to pull a theory out of his ass or this trial would not end well for him. Dwight whispered to Demelza and she turned to Ross with furrowed brows. She scribbled on a piece of paper, pushing it towards him. It read 'don't worry, everything will be ok.' Ross didn't reply.