CHAPTER 28

Roland and Grace work together to build a proper care facility fit for heroes and look forward to an evening together. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter and will be updating again, shortly. Thanks so much to all of you who are reading this and if you have any comments, they are always gladly received. XX

Placing his signature with a flourish, at the base of the final document, in the small leather portfolio which his adjutant had put before him, Roland clicked shut the cap on his fountain pen and stood up to stretch his legs. He had always hated administrative tasks, preferring to spend his time either with his patients, or his close knit team of medical staff, but he had learned the hard way that nothing happened these days without the requisite piece of paper. During wartime, Purbright had delighted in metaphorically rapping him over the knuckles whenever he had tried to circumvent the system. It was all the man had ever been able to do to him because he knew that Roland ran a tight ship manned by a loyal crew.

For Roland, of his own volition to spend time writing letters, was an unusual event, but it was not every day he had the chance to do something for Grace which she would not expect and which, he knew, would make her happy. Gazing out of the window, he heard the chink of the cups and saucers on their tray as the tea and biscuits, which he had requested, were placed on the table beside him.

"Ask Matron Carter if she has a few minutes available to discuss some matters of import with me, would you please, Hall-Green," he instructed.

"Certainly, Colonel. Now or later?" came the crisp, and equally efficient, reply.

"Now would be my preference," Roland confirmed.

With that he heard the measured stride of the young Lieutenant as he left the office and went about his task. Looking out at the small garden beyond, Roland found himself smiling as he contemplated spending a little while with Grace. Only a matter of weeks ago he had found little to smile about and that feeling of hopelessness had finally galvanised him into action. She had seemed lost to him and his heart had weighed heavy in his chest. How differently he felt now. Her love had transformed him and he felt he could achieve anything with her at his side.

Turning back to his desk, he recalled his quarters at the old hospital. Dingy, draughty, but transformed in his eyes the moment she entered. She had been the sole reason he had survived the war. Her gentle, capable presence had steered him through many a crisis and he wondered why he had never taken his courage in both hands and confessed his feelings. There had been times when he had wanted to hold her so badly that he had thought she could not fail to see his yearning for her and he fancied on occasion that he saw something similar in her eyes. And yet he had remained silent, tried to tell her through his thoughtfulness and actions all that his heart longed to pour out.

He recalled her delighted expression when he bought her a small set of embroidery silks and needles, which he had seen in the town. He knew she loved to sew and it had been a small enough gesture to avoid being classified as worthy of comment by anyone else. She had smiled up at him, her eyes soft in the lamplight, as she thanked him for his generosity. He had looked down into their darkened depths, seen her lips part slightly and, for a split second, he had imagined her giving herself to him. His mind had conjured such images of abandonment that it had been all he could do to stop himself from pressing her beneath him and making love to her there and then. He had wanted her so badly and his body had stirred, making him retreat behind the familiar barricades of formality lest she see the effect she had upon him.

It had been bearable when she was there with him, but since returning to England, he had found it increasingly intolerable to be parted from the woman he knew he loved with a fierce passion. Months of suppressed desire and the lack of contact from her, had brought Roland to the point where he could not live without her a moment longer. It had only taken a few telephone calls to ascertain her whereabouts and just knowing that she was within reach had given him a new lease of life. Nevertheless, until the moment when she had opened the door and he had heard her voice, he had scarcely dared to believe she could be with him once more. It felt meant to be. In his mind he could feel her mouth move against his during their first kiss, the gentle stroke of her tongue against his, her hands caressing him.

As his thoughts threatened to carry him away, he was roused from his mental meandering by the sound of a light knock at the door and the sound of the hinge creaking as it opened. He looked round and his eyes alighted on the very object of his thoughts, his smile spontaneous and warm. Grace returned his smile, as she closed the door and turned back to see him looking at her with undisguised tenderness. Glancing quickly through the window lest they be seen, she moved quickly into arms, which held her close, and lips, which found hers with barely restrained passion. She allowed herself the luxury of returning his kiss and then reluctantly pulled back, conscious of the unobstructed view from the window and that afforded, in return, to anyone out there.

"You wanted to speak with me," Grace said.

"No. I just wanted you," he answered with a boyish grin, which took years off him.

"Roland Brett, you are shameless, but I love you!" she replied.

"I should hope so. I did actually want to speak to you, but my feelings seized the moment. They still do." His hands were at her waist as he manoeuvred her back into the shadowy corner to one side of the door and out of the sight of prying eyes. "Grace," he said; her name, falling from his lips, caressed her with the same lightness and warmth as a summer zephyr.

"Oh, my love," was all she could say, as he clasped her to him and they kissed, their mutual longing evident in every moment that their mouths were joined. They emerged from each other's embrace, breathless and aroused, their foreheads resting against each other's, arms still loosely wrapped about the other's waist.

"I love you, my Grace, and I want you so badly."

"As I do you," she answered, taking his hand and placing it against her heart. He could feel its rapid beating and just knowing that was because of him, made him feel twice the man.

Nuzzling her temple he murmured, "How will I last until tonight?"

"Through willpower and self-denial. It's no different for me, you know. Having you so close and yet being unable to give vent to the feelings of desire for you, which beset me whenever I think of you, is torture."

"Do you feel that way now?"

"Yes," she said, with no trace of artifice.

Abruptly, he let her go and went to his office door.

"Lieutenant, no interruptions please, until further notice. I have some urgent matters to attend to with Matron Carter."

Grace heard the young man's response, "Sir," and then the door clicked shut. Roland stood against it and looked at her, his eyes running up and down her as she remained motionless before him. Covering the short distance between them, he enfolded her in his arms and drew her into his embrace. She raised her eyes to meet his, almost drowning in the depths of his love for her, and was not disappointed as he lowered his mouth to claim hers once more. Feeling the physical manifestation of his desire against her and the pressure of his thigh as it tried to part hers, she moved to accommodate him, driven by the inner pulse of her own needs. His lips never left hers as his hands caressed her hips, easing her skirt upwards and her body forwards to rest atop his thigh, which was firmly wedged between her legs and moving against her femininity, creating the most delicious pressure, against which she was powerless to resist. No words were spoken; none were needed as he insinuated his fingers between his thigh and her sex, and felt the heat of her flesh as she moved against him. His mouth swallowed her groans of pleasure as he took control and slid his thumb and index finger between her folds and found her amply primed for his attention. Dragging his mouth from hers, he whispered,

"Do you want to play or do you want more?

"I want everything, but this isn't the right place or time, so let's play. Tonight we can relax and make love with no pressure on us."

"Is this what you want," he asked as his fingers moved expertly to elicit a moan of desire, which she could barely control, as she pressed her fist to her mouth and her hips took on a life of their own, meeting his caresses with unrestrained pleasure. He could feel her body coil about his finger as it plunged deep inside her and he covered her mouth with his. Seconds later she tore her mouth from his and pressed it close to his ear, telling him what he doing to her, clutching at him, unfastening his trousers and freeing him to rest in her hand as she moved along his length and matched his rhythm.

"Is this what you want, my love?" she gasped, as yet another spasm hit her.

"Yes, but let me bring you pleasure now and tonight we'll revel in each other." His thumb circled the nub of raised flesh at her centre, feeling her body grip onto his fingers.

"Oh, Roland, I want to make you feel as I do. I'm so close."

"Tonight, my darling, but for now let me love you with my hands."

She could not answer as his fingers worked to stoke her pleasure and she finally reached fever pitch, suddenly pressing her face into his jacket, the sound of her climax stifled by his chest. He smiled triumphantly as he felt her throbbing around his fingers, her hands clinging to him and knowing that he had done this. He sought her mouth and kissed her sensually; taking her hand and pressing it against him, feeling her lips curve as he moved his mouth against hers. Breaking the kiss, he said,

"Tonight we'll make love and you won't find me wanting,I promise you."

"I feel so selfish, my love. I've taken and not given you anything in return."

His lips brushed her hair. "I expect nothing in return, except that you love me."

"You know how much I do. I love you, only you, with my body and soul. I would do anything for you." Her reply was heartfelt.

"I know and I rejoice in this incredible love of ours so you owe me nothing for, in giving you pleasure, I derive so much myself. There is nothing more wonderful for me than to touch and caress you to the point where I can see you lose control. Now, are you sufficiently recovered for us to discuss some matters of import?"

After gently straightening her clothes, he walked to the small hand-basin and washed his hands while Grace poured the tea. Anyone happening upon them would have had no clue of the passion this room had just witnessed, beyond Grace's slightly heightened colour and the brightness of her eyes. Smiling, she passed him a cup, and he gestured to her to sit with him.

"Are you sufficiently calm now to run through a few things with me, sweetheart?"

How easily the endearment slipped from his lips and with what easy familiarity she now received it.

Looking at him, she said quietly, but truthfully, "I'm never calm around you, Roland. I feel too much love to ever be totally calm, but I am the happiest and most content I have ever been. You bless me every day and have done since the moment we first met."

"My darling girl, I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing, my love. My feelings for you will never change save to deepen and grow." The honesty in her voice greatly moved him.

"I want to make every dream you have come true."

"You already have, Roland, simply by loving me. I want for nothing else."

His face betrayed the depth of his emotions and he cleared his throat, before saying,

"How did your survey of the new day room go? Is there much to do?"

"I fear there is, Roland, and I don't think we can afford all the things I'd like to do with it to make it pleasant for the men."

"What kinds of things?"

"The windows may need replacing; it's hard to tell, but I think it's likely, and the floor requires a lot of attention. It would be worth it though because it's beautiful under all that linoleum. We need new furniture, a means of heating it all. Oh, and I think the room may need re-plastering, Roland. I so wanted to do something for them but the costs are spiralling already."

"And you will do something. I've spent the morning writing letters to the great and the good to seek their financial support for our endeavours. The debt of gratitude which we owe these men can never be repaid but it can be partially met through the care they receive from a nation whose freedom they bought with their lives and with their health. You will have your dayroom, Grace, if I have to pay for it all myself…and I will, if it comes to it."

Grace looked at Roland in wonderment as the full weight of his words hit home.

"There'll be no need for that. I can organise fundraising activities. We could have a fair, a concert, or…."

She got no further as Roland repeated,

"I meant what I said: I'll pay for it myself, Grace. I came back from France and found the love of my life. These poor chaps have either lost everything or are diminished as a result of all they did for others. It's the very least I can do."

"I'll make it so special, my love. This will be our gift to them, Roland. Everything I do is motivated by the love I feel for you and it just makes me want to share my happiness with others. You really are the kindest, most thoughtful and rarest of men. I am so lucky to be loved by you."

"It'll happen, Grace. I promise you, and I'm not anything special. I'm just a chap who's lucky beyond belief to have the woman he loves beside him each day. You make me whatever I am."

"I'll make you so proud, Roland. This will be a testimony to the power of life, the human spirit and to love. I want to help you to make this hospital a place where our holistic vision becomes reality and which leads the way in care for those who suffer in body, mind or spirit."

"I'm already prouder of you than I have words to describe and I've got the groundsman here to make a start on the garden area for you."

"Thank you, darling. I'm so grateful."

"You can show me how much tonight," he replied with a smile, "but for now, let's finish our tea and get back to work because it will soon be lunchtime and then visiting time before we know it."

"You're right and Mary will be expecting to see us later, too. You hadn't forgotten that we're taking her home, had you?"

"Not at all. We'll drop her off and then I'll take you home and who knows what I'll do next."

"Or what I'll do. I love you, Roland Brett, and just how much you might be on the verge of finding out."

"Actions speak louder than words, sweetheart."

"Then you may just be deafened by the volume."

"Away with you before my feelings make me forget myself completely."

"I'll see you later, my love. Come round when visiting is on. That young rascal, Thomas, will be happy to see you."

"Only him?"

"No; me, too."

With that, Grace stood and beckoned him to the corner they had occupied before. He followed her and found himself enveloped in an embrace and kisses which left him breathless. Framing her face between his hands, he bent his head and, slowly and deliberately, kissed her forehead, eyes, cheeks, chin and finally, with great sensuality, her lips. They were such simple gestures but delivered with such love. Grace met his mouth with equal sensuality and as she eventually took her leave of him, she said breathlessly,

"Tonight, I'll give you everything you ever wanted. I love you; oh, Lord, I love you so much, Roland."

So saying, she walked to the door and took her leave of him with consummate professionalism. He felt strangely bereft after she went and for a few seconds he stood looking at the place where she had last been almost willing her to re-appear, but he knew she would not. Theirs was a precious love and they would protect it at all costs, even to the point of denying themselves the freedom of expression they so craved. Eventually, he turned back to his desk and set about the rest of the day's work, his thoughts turning often to the evening to come.

I hope you liked it. Reviews would be lovely. Happy Valentine's Day! XX