"Have you seen the time?" she asked.
Harry looked at the clock on the mantlepiece.
It was 4.30am.
"It's late," he said.
"Or early," she added.
"Whichever it may be, Ruth, it's time …."
She finished the thought for him "…to go to bed."
The words hung in the air.
And they both knew and they both desired, and expected, and anticipated what was to come.
"You go on, I'll lock up," he said and kissed her cheek.
She nodded and headed for the stairs.
He began to tidy away their glasses.
"Harry?"
He turned.
She looked a look of innocent confusion.
"The second door on the left," he smiled, "there's an en suite in there."
She smiled at him and turned away.
"Ruth."
She paused.
He looked at her, standing there in his house, on the way upstairs to his bed and he wanted to say so much.
"Nothing," he said.
And he disappeared into the kitchen.
Harry walked out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower, his shirt loosely fastened.
The door to the en suite opened as he entered the bedroom and Ruth appeared.
For the second time that day she took his breath away.
"I promised you I'd wear it," she said, standing in the beautiful aubergine dress she had worn earlier that very long day.
He breathed deeply, maintaining control over the intensity of emotion he was feeling.
Her heart beat erratically and uncontrollably
He walked slowly over to her and stopped an inch away, his eyes feasting on her.
And very slowly he raised his hands and his fingers began to run over the silk dress, tracing her shape through the thin material.
Ruth held down the desire rising within her.
"Harry, what did you want to say before, downstairs?"
He shook his head, his hands still exploring, his eyes still devouring.
"It seemed important," she prompted.
"I can't."
"Try, please, Harry."
"I haven't got the words, Ruth," he said emotionally.
She nodded and touched his face.
He raised his eyes to hers.
"I can't tell you, but I can show you."
And show her he did.