Hello all, we're back with an update!

When we left the couple in New York last time, Joseph confessed Clarisse that he'd been in love with her for a very long time. To Clarisse's question why he left her, he told her that it was for the best. To that, Clarisse let all her frustrations come out. She kicked Joseph out of her apartment, but to her great shock, Jack was there when she opened the door. Did Jack overhear her emotional outburst? What's going to happen now? Read and find out...

After Jack watched the elevator doors close, he returned his attention to the woman standing in the doorway. She quickly moved away from him, shaking her head, breathing deeply. After a slight hesitation, he followed her inside and closed the door softly behind him. He approached her carefully, yet with determination. "What on earth is the matter, Clarisse?" The concern in his voice was evident, clearly he knew that something was very wrong here. "What happened?" He took a few more steps in her direction until he came to stand right behind her. "Darling?"

She cleared her throat, once again inhaling deeply to get rid of the lump that made it difficult for her to speak. She didn't know how much he had overheard, and the thought that he had witnessed her emotional tirade made her cheeks burn and her stomach cringe. The words she was never, ever going to share with anyone else had escaped her lips, and she could only pray that Jack hadn't heard them. She inhaled deeply and blinked fiercely to get rid of the tears that seemed to force their way into her eyes.

"Darling, are you crying?"

"No!" she said loudly and much too quickly, foolishly denying what Jack could now see was obvious.

Jack turned halfway to the door again in confusion, and then looked back to Clarisse. Taking in her fragile state and the obvious signs of her distress, his concern heightened. He questioned her again, his voice stronger this time. "Clarisse, for God's sake, what's wrong? Did that man hurt…"

"No!" she repeated just as loudly, her tone more desperate. After yet another big sigh she lowered her voice, trying to sound calm. "It's not really important, Jack, honestly. Just a difference of opinion," she said, hoping that her voice didn't sound too forced. She turned around to face him and smiled at him. By the look on Jack's face, she could tell instantly that he knew she was lying. Slowly he approached her until he came to stand right in front of her, his brows furrowed in concern. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek, his fingers lifting her chin as he was seeking her eyes. She let her eyes drift from the wrinkles around his eyes, his nose, his chin, lower to his tie and then back up to his pursed lips. As much as she wanted to look into Jack's eyes at that moment, to seek the loving comfort that she knew she would find there, she just couldn't. To do so now would betray her utter confusion, relay her every emotion. He would know, wouldn't he? With one look into her eyes he would know that her heart was torn. She wanted to love him. She knew she could have a future with this man. Why were her emotions still so tangled up with a man who managed to hurt her more each time she saw him? She couldn't let Jack see how much pain she was in or let him know why. To do so would risk hurting him as much as she herself was hurting. That was something she could not do.

"Clarisse…" He tried again, reaching out to rest his hands on her shoulders. He bit his lip when he saw her utterly sad expression, her trembling lips, her teary eyes that seemed to look everywhere but his eyes. "Tell me why you're so upset," he urged.

A short sense of relief washed over her, but it didn't make her heart feel lighter. At least he didn't know, thank God he didn't know.

Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, a begging tone slowly creeping into it. "As I said, a difference of opinion. Jack, please…"

For a second she feared that he wouldn't accept her answer. That he would say that he wanted to know what was in her heart, and that he would demand some answers from her. But when he opened his mouth to speak, she once again realized that this man had always been, and would always be, one of the most generous and understanding men she had ever known.

"Clarisse, whatever it is that has upset you so much, whatever you need, darling…you know that I'm here for you. I always will be."

She sighed and nodded, biting her trembling lip. "I do know, Jack, thank you," she said softly. Here he was,always here for her.He was offering her the world, the chance for something new, the chance to finally move on and she wanted nothing more than to accept it. She had tried, God how many times had she tried, but every time she thought she was succeeding…Joseph…. He had confessed he loved her and the realization had warmed her heart for a quick moment, but in the end, what did it matter? Nothing had changed. Nothing would change.

With tears threatening to fall yet again, she still felt the emotions racing through her body and it unnerved her. She still tasted the bitter anger in her throat, felt the painful sting in her stomach and she couldn't suppress the uncontrollable tremor in her hands. Facing Jack seemed, as loving and supportive as he was, like an impossible thing to do right now. If she was going to pull through this without breaking in front of him, she desperately needed some time to try and pull herself together.

"You're a bit early," she eventually said gently, her voice shaky. "Would you mind giving me a few minutes to freshen myself up a bit? I won't be long, I promise."

He smiled briefly, narrowing his eyes. She was doing it again. Right before him, Clarisse was desperately trying to hide whatever on earth it was that made her so upset. She was an expert in shutting people out, that he was very aware of, but as hard as she was trying, this time she was not succeeding. Not with him, anyway. He knew her far too well. The hurt was present in her eyes, she was aching, she was in deep emotional pain and she couldn't hide it. Never, not ever had he seen this look in her eyes, and the apparent reason for her state of mind was right outside the building. Suddenly, Jack knew what to do.

"Naturally, darling. Take your time. I guess I'm a bit early," he nodded, taking a few steps back. "Meet me in the lobby, I'll be waiting for you."

Her smile was sad and she bit her lip, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you Jack, I won't be long."

When the door closed behind him, she hid her face in her hands. And soundly, she cried.

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Two Years Earlier

San Francisco, Independence Day Ball

"She did it Joseph, she did it!" She exclaimed the words as soon as he closed the door behind them. The room was covered in darkness but moonlight entered through the open windows, creating a shaft of blue light. The ruffled sound of heavy rainfall had finally stopped and a peaceful, comforting silence had replaced it. They couldn't even hear the loud noise coming from the party downstairs. Boy, was he glad that they escaped it.

"I know…" Reaching out to hit the switch to the light, he suddenly held back. He couldn't help but smile at the sight that unfolded before his eyes. Clarisse danced more than she walked, turning around in her ball gown with an ease as if it was a jumpsuit.

She didn't seem to notice how dark it was and frankly, he couldn't care less, her smile alone was more than enough to light up the dimly lit suite. She made a high, excited sound as she breathed in, clasping her hands together and pressing them to her mouth. "She's going to be a fine princess, don't you think?"

"With a role model like her grandmother, how can she not," he nodded, slowly following her in.

She exhaled against her hands. "I thought I lost my country," she said, closing her eyes. "I really thought she wouldn't…"

He laughed and took a few steps closer in her direction. "But she did Clarisse, she's our Princess." He felt a warm glow around his heart when she opened her eyes to look at him, nodding at him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat. Even through the darkness in the room, he could still see the sparkles in the blue depth of her eyes. Those vital, excited, alive sparkles put her tiara and diamond necklace to shame.

She turned around, away from him, moving a few paces, unable to stand still until she was standing in front of the window. The blue moonlight caught her in its shaft, seeming to caress her, emphasizing the round curves of her body. He studied her, hypnotized by her sheer beauty, mostly caused by the happiness that seemed to envelope her. He took a sharp breath, unable to tear his eyes away from her. There was confusion in Joseph's soul, and although a sort of fear tugged at his heart, at that moment his whole being was yearning for her, his queen. Within seconds, he had managed to forget all about the promises he made to himself. Promises to stay away from her, to resist the temptation she posed to him.

Then, slowly, her dreamy expression changed and she turned around to face him.Her voice was softer when she spoke. "I don't think I could have gotten through these past few weeks without you, Joseph." She smiled sweetly at him. "You have always been my rock. You are always here for me….always. And you were here for Mia, too. You have no idea how grateful I am." She came closer, the shiny, heavy fabric of her ball gown swaying along with the movements of her hips. He watched her, still, taken in by her.

"Oh, I didn't do much," he shrugged.

"I beg to differ…" she said, and when she came to stand in front of him, he couldn't help but hold his breath. She was blushing, even in this darkness her cheeks were as pink as a rose, her eyes a shade of dark blue he would never be able to describe, and she smiled at him. He swallowed. He couldn't resist her. He simply wasn't strong enough to do so.

"Because I do know that, if it wasn't for you, she wouldn't have been here tonight."

He shook his head. "As much as I do like this praise, she wanted to come. She took responsibility for her own life, it was her own strength and perseverance that brought her to us."

"But you…" She shook her head, now reaching out to let her hand slide over his arm. He felt the warmth of her body all the way through two pieces of clothing.

"I was her driver, nothing more and nothing less," he said, and then continued with a tilt of his head. "But I did threaten that utterly strange neighbor to find her, that I gladly take credit for."

"Mr. Robutusen?" Clarisse laughed, her eyes glittering. "You threatened him?"

"He thinks I'm a spy," Joseph said. "So he can't be really surprised by it."

"Shut up," she roared with laughter now. "Lily called you Shaft, Robutusen called you a spy, and oh, didn't that clerk think you wore women's shoes?"

He laughed too, merely at her spontaneous use of her granddaughter's expression. Clarisse was heavenly this evening, loose, relaxed, beaming from happiness and excitement. If he was to drop dead right now, he would die a happy man just because he was allowed to look at her.

"It's a hard life I lead, I know," he grinned.

"Oh tush, come here you," she laughed, and then, without any warning, her arms were around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. Joseph stopped laughing in an instant. He breathed deep, closing his eyes for a moment. She smelled like flowers, a delicate mixture of roses and lilies. The scent was pure and soft and it made his head spin, like he'd had too much wine. Slowly, her laughter subsided.

"Thank you, Joseph," she murmured against his shoulder. "I mean that with all my heart." Her hair tickled his cheek.

He felt it in the pit of his stomach, his want for her that he had hidden for so long made a sudden jump again. It was there, taking control of his body and mind as if it had never left. He realized as he inhaled her sweet and fresh scent once more, that it had been there all along.

"Clarisse, I…" he started, knowing instinctively that if he was to stand there any longer, he wouldn't be able to withdraw. But she interrupted him, her left hand sliding from around his neck to his face and she placed her fingers upon his lips. His heart started to pound in his chest, realizing her intentions. The gesture was so intimate, so tender that he started to tremble. His queen was in his arms, wanting to touch him. He swallowed, butterflies tingled in his stomach.

"Let me say thank you," she whispered. Her fingers slipped from his mouth, coming to rest against his collarbone. She shifted her weight slightly, bringing them even closer together. He bit back a gasp as her thigh brushed his, and she stilled at his sudden intake of breath. She turned her face from his shoulder and he felt her breath warm on his cheek. He lifted his eyes towards the ceiling, trying to focus on other things, searching for one last ounce of self-control that was going to make him withdraw from her. But there was no turning back. He bent his head just as she lifted her chin. The kiss was tentative at first, and Joseph closed his eyes despite the darkness. Clarisse slid her hand up, fingers toying with the skin at the nape of his neck as she opened her mouth beneath his. Joseph felt as if he were in freefall, an explosion of tickling nerves apparent in his stomach. They increased when he tasted her. A taste unlike any other. And then he took over.

He splayed his fingers across her back, tracing her spine as his mouth moved over hers. He was lost in her arms, lost for words, lost for actions, all he could do was respond to her caresses and give her everything he wanted to give. She put both arms tightly around him now, one hand in his neck, the other on the back of his head, steering the kiss. Her lips were oh so soft beneath his, her mouth warm, her scent enveloping him. He held her close, drawing her even closer as he slipped a hand in her neck. She was breathing along with him, kissing him with a passion that took him by surprise.

After what seemed to last hours and at the same time, hardly no time at all, he slowly broke the kiss, breathing deeply. He was dizzy, his head spinning. She was resting her head against his cheek, her chest falling and rising slowly. From the corner of his eye, he caught her smile. A shy, warm, endearing smile.

They stood there for a while and Joseph sighed deeply, stroking her neck. Her hair tickled between his fingers. He was overwhelmed by her and she seemed to feel the same way, neither of them seemed ready to release the other.

She sighed. "I'm so happy Joseph…" she whispered. "Everything seems to have fallen into place."

"You should be happy, you deserve it," he said, his voice even hoarser than ever. He lowered his head, placing a kiss on the soft spot next to her mouth. She stroked his cheek, eyes closed, lips curving in a smile. Then, they melted in an embrace again, her nose hidden in his neck, pulling him close to her.

For one moment in time, his world made perfect sense. For one warm, tender moment Joseph relished the feeling of holding his queen, his dream, in the safety of his arms. He'd never expected to feel this way, that she would answer his love, that she would caress him in the way she just did.

"Penny for your thoughts," she suddenly said softly, a bit hoarse.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when he couldn't find the words that would reflect his inner feelings. Nothing would be sufficient anyway.

"Joseph?" she asked, lifting her face so she could meet his gaze. Her eyes were warm, inquiring but her expression changed into concerned when he didn't respond. "Are you all right?"

He swallowed. "I'm all right," he said, placing a hand on her warm cheek. With his thumb he stroked her cheek, feeling the soft skin even better against his hand when she smiled. Her eyes never left his and he couldn't resist placing a kiss on her forehead, her cheek, her chin.

"Oh Joseph…" she sighed, leaning into him. "After all this time…"

He nodded. "I know…" he murmured, pulling her in his arms again. Holding her, he just longed to hold her. And then his world collapsed.

"I just wish…" she said, while he stroked her hair, "I just wish that Philippe could have been here too."

His insides froze. His hand stiffened on her hair and he swallowed, shaking his head to suppress the thoughts that welled up in his head.

"He would have been so proud at his daughter, wouldn't he?" she continued, resting her head against his shoulder now.

He let out a humming sound, closing his eyes firmly. Not willing to listen, not willing to let her words hit the target that he had managed to protect. He had failed, apparently.

"He was very fond of you, you know," she then said, unknowingly pushing him further into a state of misery. He shook his head again, trying to ignore, trying not to listen. Inside his stomach a knot was forming, getting tighter at every word she spoke. It hurt him physically, knowing that what he was doing, that what brightened his existence, was never going to last. Not without telling her. And he couldn't tell her, he couldn't do this to her, not now, not this evening. Not when everything was perfect for her, how could he ruin her life like that knowing that it would tear her apart. He wouldn't be able to comfort her, again, she would have to go through it alone. And he didn't want her to suffer alone, never again. He had to go. Now.

"He would have loved knowing that…"

"Clarisse," he said, interrupting her before she could continue. His voice sounded ragged. "I better head back inside."

She drew away from him to look at him, searching for his eyes. "What? Why?" She looked like as if she was doubting if she had heard him right.

His holding her suddenly felt wrong, his hands resting on her back like an intrusion. He instantly released her. "They don't know what's keeping me, I have to check on the … cameras…"

"Can't they manage without…" She blinked in utter confusion.

He attempted to smile but failed, turning towards the door. "I'm afraid they can't, I have to go."

He inhaled sharply as felt her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. He could only hope that the darkness that surrounded them hid enough of his facial expression not to unnerve her. The second he allowed himself to look at her again, he regretted it. His throat tightened, it hurt him.

"When you're done, later, tonight…" Her voice was soft, low and she smiled at him. She seemed shy and it upset him even more, knowing he didn't deserve this.

He cleared his throat. "It will be very late."

By the blush that appeared on her cheeks and the shy smile she gave him, she seemed to gather courage. He wished he could beg her to stop, beg her not to ask him what he, in fact, so desperately wanted to hear.

"I have a bottle of Bonneau du Martray Corton Charlemagne, it's cold, you'll learn to love it," she continued, a smile curving her lips. He'd always loved hearing her speak French, coming from her the language seemed even more sensual. But now, he would have given his life if she would stop asking him what he would have to turn down.

Her eyes narrowed, trying to read him. "Joseph?"

He blinked even more fiercely and his voice trembled as he answered. "I can't, Clarisse."

Her mouth dropped, her eyes searched his but he looked away. "You…can't," she repeated, swallowing with difficulty. Her blush deepened, he could only imagine how humiliated she must feel. Her voice got a concerned tone, her eyes widening as understanding began to dawn. But she understood wrong, so very wrong. "Joseph, do you regret…"

"No!" he said, feeling the desperate need to comfort her. "No, Clarisse, you…I…I can't, I just…" He tried to force the words to come, to tell her what was burdening his soul, yet he couldn't. "I can't be with you this way."

She looked like a deflated balloon, as if he had punched all the air out of her. Her shoulders lowered, looking at him with a stunned look on her face.

"You can't be with me…"

"Clarisse, I…"

He took a step in her direction and reached out to her, yet his hand dropped when she backed away from him. Her hands came up to cover her face as she shook her head in disbelief.

He felt his throat tighten at the sight. "I have to go," he managed to say before he turned around and walked out the door. He didn't look back, couldn't bare to see her standing there all alone. And with a brisk movement, he wiped the wetness off his cheeks.

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New York

"Damned!"

For the second time, he dropped his keys and he bent down again with a frown on his face. Annoyed with himself, he hastily opened the lock and got in his car, pulling the handbrake a little too forcefully.

"Joseph!"

Vaguely, he heard his name but he didn't want to hear it, refused to listen. The events of two years ago still ran around in his head, and he was reliving it, still.

"Hey! Stop!"

He turned the key in the ignition and started the car, pressing his lips in annoyance. Even though the sun wasn't shining and dusk was falling, he searched for his sunglasses and put them on with an angry movement. He didn't want to meet his own eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Joseph!"

The sharp, short knock on his window startled him and he looked outside, frowning when he recognized the face of the man who was looking right at him. Jack Bradford was standing next to his car, panting a little as if he had rushed to get there. Jack gestured to ask him to lower his window and so Joseph did, frowning behind the darkness of his glasses.

"Sir Bradford?" he asked, his tone short and, he was sure of it, not very polite.

Ignoring the fact that he was addressing him in that formal way again, Jack leaned forward, his arm on the frame of the car door. "We need to talk."

For a moment he hesitated, but then he shook his head. In this state of mind, he wasn't about to discuss anything, with anyone -- least of all, with the man outside his window who was waiting for an answer. "No, we don't. If you'll excuse me…"

As Joseph started the car, Jack frowned and reached in to grab Joseph's arm. He raised his voice to top the sound of the rolling engine. "I think it's high time you and I discussed a certain lady, don't you agree?"

Joseph glanced at Jack's hand on his arm, then up to his face, not entirely sure if he had heard it right. But Jack looked directly at him and the accusation was clearly present in his eyes. "With all due respect sir, I don't think you and I have anything to discuss." He attempted to put the car in the first gear but his hand dropped in mid-air when Jack spoke again.

"Why did you find it necessary to hurt her?"

Within a matter of seconds, Joseph had turned off the engine and he was out of the car. The anger boiled inside him like hot water, frustration reaching the surface like hot steam. "Who the hell do you think you are?" His voice was dangerously low and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, his hands clenched into fists.

Jack frowned but didn't step back. "I asked you something," he said calmly.

"I heard you," Joseph said, his jaw clenched. "And you have no idea what you're talking about. None whatsoever!"

Jack smiled briefly, annoyingly so. "So why don't you fill me in?"

His calm tone angered Joseph even more. He knew he was close to losing his self control, but he couldn't find the strength to just walk away either. Everything he had been blaming himself for these past few years was hidden in that one question that Jack had just asked him. Realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. He had hurt her. She was in pain because of him and he knew it. The fight suddenly drained out of him. He looked at Jack, unable and unwilling to explain.

"This isn't your concern," he said dejectedly.

"You made it my concern Joseph," Jack responded, his voice low. "Clarisse's well being will always be my concern and clearly, you jeopardized that. You left her in tears just now, and you're going to tell me why."

For a moment, the two men looked at each other in silence. Then, after slight hesitation, Joseph removed his sunglasses. "She was still crying?" he asked, feeling how the bitter taste of guilt filled his mouth. He swallowed but couldn't get rid of the taste.

"Yes," Jack said, in a softer tone. He was deeply puzzled by all that was happening, yet he could see in the eyes of the man in front of him that there was more going on than what met the surface.

Joseph looked aside, staring at the empty street without really seeing anything. Darkness was slowly taking over. "I never meant to hurt her, she is…she…" He whispered the words and then he stopped himself, facing Jack again. "I never meant any of this to happen," he said, shaking his head slightly. Why he felt the need to tell Jack this, he didn't understand. But it was as if someone had ripped a bandage off his heart, he had to say the words out loud in order to heal.

Looking at Joseph, Jack realized that they seemed to have more in common than he first had realized. This wasn't just a difference of opinion as Clarisse has stated, this was more, so much more. Suddenly, all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle seemed to fall into place. Jack had always sensed that the path to Clarisse's heart had somehow never been clear from obstructions; that he had realized all along, but suddenly he understood that the main obstacle was standing right here in front of him. Jack sucked in a deep breath as the realization hit him.

"I see," he said, a cold, steely tone evident in his voice. "Joseph, I'm not going to pretend that I completely understand what happened between you and the lady upstairs. Neither can I say that I know what you were trying to accomplish this evening, but it seems to me that it backfired."

Joseph's eyes narrowed, hot anger slowly started to climb up his body again. Anger towards Jack, towards the world, towards…himself. "I have to go," he said, turning around to get in his car again. Yet he stopped when Jack spoke again.

"Hasn't she been through enough already?"

Joseph turned, his face full of disbelief. "Excuse me?"

Jack took a step closer so he came to stand right in front of Joseph. "I don't know what kind of claim you think you have on Clarisse, but isn't it time that you let her go so she can move on?"

Joseph smirked. "So you can clean up the mess I left behind? She's not yours to save, Jack," he said, realizing the irony of his own words. It had been his job to save her from any harm or threat and not only did he give up that right when he left her, he had caused her exactly that. Deep down he knew that Jack was telling him the truth but he wasn't ready to hear it. Not here, not from the lips of the man who was able to comfort Clarisse in ways that he couldn't.

Jack continued, not in the least impressed by the expression on Joseph's face. "Do you want Clarisse to be happy?" he asked softly, seeking a hint of understanding in Joseph's eyes.

For a moment it was silent and the two men looked at each other. Joseph swallowed, if Jack only knew the whole story he would never have asked that question. "Of course," he finally said, his voice hoarse.

Jack nodded briefly. "Then let her go. Truly let her go. Don't see her or contact her again."

Joseph pressed his lips together and broke their gaze, staring at the large building with the countless windows. Behind one of them was the woman he had sacrificed his own heart for. He had tried to give her up once before. Could he truly do it this time? Slowly, he shook his head. He had always been strong enough to fight. But maybe Jack was right, maybe this was a battle he shouldn't fight, for her sake. In his heart, he realized that it would take even more strength for him to finally let her go.

Slowly, he moved his gaze to Jack again. "Goodbye, Sir Bradford."

Jack nodded purposefully, hoping that he had managed to get through to him. "Goodbye, Mr. Romeiro."

Without saying one more word Joseph turned and got into his car, leaving Jack behind on the pavement.

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TBC... love, Janet and Martina.