A Trying Morning

Thank you to the wonderful Kerry Greenwood for her marvellous creations and for inspiring the ABC's establishment of Jack and Phryne as a romantic couple.

Warning: Mild smut

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Phryne was glued to the spot, helpless to move as she watched Jack reach for his wife and draw her against his chest. Rosie raised her tear dewed eyes longingly to his as he lowered his head and claimed her mouth.

The deep burn in Phryne's chest raises itself into a bubbling snarl in her throat. Springing forward she takes hold of Rosie's wrist and spins her out of Jack's arms.

"Mine!"

Fitting her body against the full length of his she presses him back against the wall.

"Mine!" Snarling again as her hand grasps his tie, roughly loosening it and using it as an anchor point to drag his head down to hers. His hand reaches up to hold hers in place.

"Mine." In a whisper as their lips meet. Warm, liquid, melting. Gently biting his lower lip, drawing it out in a pout as he sweeps his hand along her arm and down her side, his thumb brushing the side of her breast, naked under her silk shift.

Arching her body, Phryne gasped as she woke writhing in her own bed.

Reality flooded in.

"No...no. I don't want this." Lying still until she had her breath under control, Phryne struggled to block the images from her dream out of her mind. Of course the images were the easier block than the echoes of sensation still trembling through her slight frame.

Eventually, she got herself under control enough to crawl out of bed. She was tempted to chase the last of the tremors out of her body with a cold bath but the chilly morning convinced her to settle for a tepid cat wash instead.

When Dot entered the room half an hour later she knew they were in for another challenging day.

"Ah Dot, have you seen my Mauritian shawl? I wanted to wear it with my green wool but I can't seem to find it anywhere."

Dot look at the piles of clothes strewn around the room and sighed.

A very challenging day.

Dressed and breakfasted, Phryne seated herself at the telephone table and leafed through her address book. She was looking for someone delectable to take her dancing and perhaps join her for a late supper. There were plenty of names to choose from.

Let's see:

John Alexander. Great sense of humour but two left feet.

Freddy Burnell. Absolutely gorgeous eyes but he never forgets he's a journalist.

Leslie Burns. Engineer. Great dancer but always smells faintly of machine oil.

And so on, all the way to Claude Zucker. Diamond dealer, decent dancer but an irritating habit of apologising for everything.

It wasn't a short list of names by any means, but to Phryne's surprise, not one of them excited her interest.

What she needed was a fresh face and for that she needed a different sort of escort. She searched through her book. That was it! Ridley Lang-Hayes. Gentleman. Could almost be a professional dancer and definitely not interested in women. The perfect escort when looking to meet someone new.

Phryne picked up the receiver.

"Darling Ridley. It's Phryne...I'm in desperate need of a nights dancing and distraction. Darling are you free tonight?...I was thinking The Plaza, unless you have a better suggestion...No, you pick me up...What time?...Perfect...Ciao for now."

Satisfied, Phryne hung up the telephone.

Looking around the room, she contemplated how she might spend the day. Pity she didn't have a case on, it would have served as an excellent distraction. Better take herself out of the house. Dot's mouth had looked a little pinched as she'd started collecting up the clothing Phryne had discarded during her search.

Just then the doorbell rang and shortly Mr Butler entered the room, a card on his silver server.

"A Mrs Albury Richards with a case for your consideration, Miss Fisher" Phryne picked up the card that he had presented.

"Just what I need, please show her in Mr B."