'You're right Ruth, Malcolm isn't coming back tonight. Not because either of us was anticipating you kissing me like that,' was said with the kind of smile on Harry's face that she hadn't seen since the one and only evening that he'd taken her out. 'Malcolm's invitation to make ourselves at home, wasn't just a throwaway comment, there's dinner in the oven if we want it. Although, and I don't want you to think that I'm presuming anything more Ruth, or that this is a setup.'
Set up or not, Ruth just wanted Harry to stop talking nonsense and instigate a second kiss, and please god he wasn't going to waffle on all evening about his gentlemanly intentions. Because here they were, tucked away in this lovely little cottage, miles from Thames House and everybody that knew them, so whether he'd planned it or not, she no longer cared. She was legitimately Ruth Evershed again, free to build a new life for herself, so whatever he still intended telling her and her questions to him, could wait until the morning. Surely Harry could see this as the opportunity that they'd so far managed to mess up and make the most of it, or at least say something?
Or not as it turned out.
Cogs turning - so still alive. Eyes twinkling - a real turn on. Action - zilch. What was the matter with the man? Bugger this for a game of soldiers.
'I already know about dinner Harry, so if we're quick we've got about about fifteen minutes,' she told him, desperation forcing her take the initiative and her mouth overtake her brain. She was Ruth not Ros and she'd never come on to anyone like this in her life. Well maybe she'd thrown a few hints at Harry in the early days, but she had no idea where all this courage, if that's what it was, was coming from.
By the time that Harry was following her into the kitchen, he'd taken his sweater off. He was far too hot. With the fire on the cottage was always warm and with Ruth's come and get me and stop messing about Harry invitation in her eyes, something that had him wondering if Malcolm had slipped something into her drink, he was at sixes and sevens, literally. Surely Ruth wasn't expecting them to - well not in the kitchen?
Ruth wasn't and she hoped that Harry hadn't misunderstood her need to be kissed properly to mean more, well at least not before dinner, as she searched through the drawers for some cutlery, just as he arrived behind her and put his arms around her waist, pinning her firmly against the table.
'The knives and forks are over there,' he told her, not letting go, just nodding towards the small unit under the window, before realising he wasn't supposed to know where anything was.
Everything around them blurred, as Ruth turned around and looked him fully in the eye, questioning as she always did.
He could have told her then and there that the cottage was hers, but he didn't. That was something to be savoured and enjoyed at another time. The old Harry would have started with his accustomed apology, before leaving her standing as he buckled under the weight of those startling blue eyes. But this was a different Harry. One whose confidence had been growing, as something deep within told him to hold onto her and to keep it simple. Further explanations could come later, he'd find the right words, this was too precious a moment to ruin. So instead he kissed her, just as she hoped he would. Gently at first, but as the kiss deepened and she adjusted herself against him, he responded with everything he had. His need for her, now as evident as hers was for him was exquisite. His powerful arms pulling her much smaller frame closer. Nothing else mattered, other than he knew that this was a pivotal moment, and please god she felt the same.
Despite the intensity and had Harry's stomach not rumbled, who knows? But it did, causing Ruth to open her eyes and look up at him. Harry's were still closed, his whole face relaxed. She took it between her hands and rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs, just as she had done all those years ago. No matter what he'd done, nothing in the world was more important than the feelings that she had for this man. It never had been. If he was proposing that they stay here tonight rather than drive back to London, then as long as he wasn't expecting her to sleep alone, any other explanations could wait until the morning. Despite everything that had passed between them and everything that they'd seen and done, Harry was the one person that she trusted would never knowingly hurt her.
'Dinner,' she whispered, gently kissing him before she pulled away. There would be no telling him to let her go this time. She wasn't going anywhere.
An hour later.
Malcolm had passed the intervening time by attempting to read one of his favourite books. It hadn't worked, because he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything other than what might be happening a short distance along the road. A pint of the pubs best bitter and steak and chips with all the trimmings that's what he needed, something that during the years that he'd looked after his mum he'd been denied. It had been over an hour since he'd left Harry and Ruth to sort themselves out and so far, so good. With no messages or a phone call from Harry to say that they were on their way back to London, or worse still that Ruth had misunderstood their motives, he hoped that they were also enjoying their dinner. Harry had told him that he'd get in touch in the morning as to what would be a good time to call in and collect his things, before he headed off on his travels. He'd ordered breakfast for eight and he was still wondering if maybe that was a bit too early?
Malcolm needn't have worried. Harry and Ruth had finished dinner and were at that 'thank goodness we left the washing up until the morning' stage. Him having told her over dinner, that everything that he'd ever done had been designed to keep her safe, and her not doubting it was true. They were lying on Ruth's sofa. The innuendo and the reticence now gone. Him with his arm around her, barely able to believe that this was happening, as she surrendered against him, his lips exploring every glorious inch of her neck and shoulders that he could reach. Shaken to the point of shuddering, he realised that if anything she was way ahead of him, as her fingers which had been stroking the bare skin that she'd accessed through the space of his unbuttoned shirt, were causing his erection to grow. Christ he was in trouble. Desperately needing to keep up, he shifted his position, until with his free had hand he could cup one of her breasts and stroke her nipple, at which point Ruth moaned. His final undoing and with seemingly no holds barred, she was saying yes. As he moved against her, which caused Ruth's breath to hitch, he leaned back so that he could look at her. Now with any preconceived ideas that they'd be able to make it as far as the bedroom blown, hazel, darkened with desire met blue. Cataclysmic in it's proportions, as years of rejection and pain, flew as fast as the desire that was building. This wasn't going to be a one - night stand that would be pushed aside in the morning. This was a moment that had been built on a foundation that had crumbled but survived, to be savoured and to last.
'This wasn't how I planned this to happen Ruth,' in a now breathless voice, evoked a moan that meant nothing other than please don't stop, as Ruth climaxed under the weight of Harry's touch. Hands that had killed, building her beyond anything that she'd ever experienced. With him praying that he'd be able to hold on for a while longer, whilst at the same time, continue to deliver the feeling of pure ecstasy that was building again between them. With bed now beckoning, he nodded towards the stairs. The prospect of a totally naked Ruth writhing under him, filling his mind, he wanted nothing more than to stay with her forever.
But early tomorrow he'd have to leave, he was expected back onto the grid and these two wonderful days that they'd managed to create between them would be over. She clearly didn't want to go with him, so what now? Don't rock the boat he was telling himself as she climbed into bed beside him and he pulled her close. God how he loved her. Leave explanations for another time. What ever she presumed this house to be, what was the point of ruining the illusion? If the gods were kind to him and she stayed here, he could be back with her again at the weekend. He'd tell her then, when she'd had more time to think. Before that though he was going to kiss her again and again, and please god she wasn't too tired, because he intended making love to her, until they both fell asleep.