Chapter 36

The first thing that Dempsey became aware of was something tickling his chin, followed by the sensation of pins and needles in his right arm, which as he slowly woke into consciousness, he realised was due to the fact the during the night Harry had manoeuvred herself into his arms, and was currently lying sound asleep half across his body, with her head resting directly beneath his chin.

Dempsey could detect the faint scent of her shampoo as the hair on top of Harry's head continued to tickle his skin, not that he minded, as for those brief few moments everything seemed picture-perfect, even down to the faint early morning birdsong and the shaft of weak spring sunlight which shone through the slight gap in the curtains. It reminded him of just how wonderful their relationship had been before the incident in the nightclub; all of those idyllic mornings he had awoken to find Harry sleeping peacefully with her head resting on his chest or shoulder, her right arm draped across his torso, and her right leg intertwined between his own.

It felt right, as though Harry belonged there, belonged to him.

During the early weeks, and even months of their relationship, it had always been he who had instigated any physical contact, whether it be a simple hug or a kiss, hand holding during a walk in the park on a lazy Sunday afternoon, or the more intimate aspects of their relationship. Dempsey sometimes doubted whether Harry was at all comfortable with the overwhelming need he felt to both initiate and maintain a physical connection between them, and at times had even been known to flinch at any unexpected contact, and openly avoid any form of touching whilst in public.

At first Dempsey had put it down to Harry's rather traditional and reserved upbringing, until he realised that that didn't quite ring true, particularly as he had witnessed his partner and her father share a hug and a kiss on many occasions, not to mention the fact that Harry was quite tactile with some of her close friends. On one particular instance, when he had surprised his fiancée by suddenly appearing behind her in the kitchen and wrapping his arms around her middle, she had both yelped and practically jumped out of her skin, and then on another he had simply reached over her shoulder to reach something out of a cupboard and she had recoiled away from him, as though she had feared that he may hit her.

It was then that Dempsey had begun to suspect that maybe it wasn't just Harry's self-esteem and confidence that had taken a beating during her marriage to Robert. However he knew better than to question his partner about it, as he had learnt from experience that Harry's past relationship was a topic which she refused to talk about, and if he were being honest Dempsey himself would rather not know exactly what that bastard had subjected her to.

It had taken months for Harry to fully relax in his presence, and even longer still before she had started to willingly seek out any form of physical contact and stop sleeping either on the very edge of bed with her back turned to him, or curled up in a tiny ball. Maybe it was just a confidence thing? Although Dempsey seriously doubted it, and so it came as somewhat of a relief and a surprise to him the first time that he had awoken with Harry snuggled up against his side.

He wondered how Harry would react that morning when she awoke to find herself half draped over her sleeping companion, and Dempsey only wished that they could stay lying in their current position forever, where he could pretend for just the briefest of moments that life was perfect, only he knew that it couldn't last and that sooner or later reality would rear its ugly head again.

The love he felt for the woman lying in his arms was almost frightening. Dempsey had never in his life felt anything so intense and totally consuming as what he felt for Harry, it was so strong at times he could almost imagine himself squeezing her to death, so compelling was the desire to hold and completely possess her.

When they were out together amongst Harry's friends, he often had to take a deep calming breath and look away every time he witnessed a casual touch or friendly kiss by one of the many male members in the group. Dempsey knew that there was nothing untoward about it, yet that didn't stop the intense feeling of jealousy rising within him, or the mental and somewhat primeval image in his head of his fist connecting with the man in questions jaw, followed by urge to drag Harry home and take her bed.

Not that he had ever admitted any of that to Harry of course, as she was stubbornly independent at the best of times, and so therefore Dempsey knew that the knowledge of his desire to both protect and possess her wouldn't go down at all well. In fact if he was being honest, he was somewhat astounded that Harry had actually agreed to his proposal when he had got down on one knee and asked her to marry him on New Year's Eve, and he couldn't help but think that his fiancée's slightly merry state on the evening in question had gone quite some way to influence her decision. Not that it had mattered at the time, as Harry had said yes and the fact that she had agreed to wear his ring on her finger proved that she was his.

Not that she wore his ring any longer, Dempsey bitterly thought as he glanced down between them, but was unable to spot Harry's ring finger because of the position in which she lay. Ever since he had returned from America, he had felt the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach grow each time he had spotted Harry's bare hand. Her refusal to wear his ring had hurt Dempsey more than he could ever have imagined, and the rings symbolism had never meant as much.

She wasn't his, and he needed her to be.

Whatever it took, Dempsey would ensure that his ring would be returned to its rightful place, and that Robert Makepeace, one way or another would be out of their lives for good.

Dempsey was still engrossed in his thoughts when the sudden shrill of the telephone startled him, and caused him to curse its very existence as he attempted to grapple for the receiver in order to prevent the obtrusive noise from waking Harry and driving her from his arms and their bed.

"If that's Spikings tell him to bugger off." Harry sleepily mumbled in complaint against Dempsey's chest as she briefly stretched and the relaxed back against him.

To say the Dempsey was shocked was a complete understatement as he glanced down at Harry in wonderment and momentarily forgot he held the telephone in his left hand until Spikings deep voice boomed out of the receiver and ended his reverie.

"Dempsey is that you?"

"A'course it is, you any idea what time it is? Harry an' me are tryin' to get some sleep here!" Dempsey hissed down the telephone as one further glance at his companion revealed that she had miraculously gone straight back to sleep, if indeed she had woken at all.

"Of course I bloody know what time it is, the question is Dempsey do you!?" Spikings barked in response, as for some reason the mental image of Harry and the American lying in bed together suddenly flashed through his mind much to his annoyance.

"Dunno, but whateva it is, its too early. Whaddya want?" Dempsey whispered in irritation, as he glanced over at the alarm clock on Harry's bedside table, but was unable to detect the position of the hands due to the sunlight reflecting off the glass face.

"It's nine am, and time that the two of you were in my office, so get yourselves down here pronto!" Spikings ordered.

"What for?" Dempsey quietly asked in confusion as he once more glanced down at Harry who was still soundly sleeping, and fleetingly wondered if he had somehow just woken up in parallel universe where Harry knew precisely who he was, and they were both late for work.

"We agreed that you and Tonto would take a look through the Metcalfe's and Nicholls arrest reports this morning, or have you forgot, umm?"

"Oh yeah…."

"Don't oh yeah me Dempsey, get that yankee doodle arse or yours down here and bring Harry with you. We need her to take a look at Tony Metcalfe's photo, now that we finally have it, to see if she can remember seeing him near the Winfield estate or anywhere else for that matter…and even if she doesn't it might be a good idea if the two of you know what he looks like, in case he decides to make another appearance, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah sure…..er listen Chief you probably need to give us a few hours….." Dempsey began to quietly request only to be cut off by Spikings booming objection.

"A few hours! May I remind you Dempsey that you are not on bloody holiday! You have one hour exactly is that understood?"

"But Chief ya don' understand, Harry ain't in no fit state to go anywhere right now, an' I ain't gonna leave her." Dempsey informed their commanding officer.

"What do you mean, no fit state? Has something happened?" Spikings asked in alarm, the concern more than evident in his tone, as in spite of the Sergeant's feisty attitude the previous evening, she had physically looked less than well.

"Jus' a rough night thas all…Harry ain't sleepin' an' I gotta convince her ta eat somethin' before we leave, cus' she ain't gonna be able to stomach anythin' after lookin' through them files." Dempsey explained in a light whisper so as not to disturb the woman in question.

"Very well, be here as soon as you can." Spikings sympathetically, yet rather conceded, as he was immensely concerned for the young sergeant's well-being.

"Thanks Chief." Dempsey replied with genuine gratitude before replacing the receiver in its cradle and once more glancing down at Harry who incredibly appeared to be sleeping soundly.

Dempsey had managed to drift off back to sleep briefly, before waking and once more gazing down at the profile of Harry's face as she slept peacefully against his chest. His eyes travelled over the contours of her lips and nose, before coming to rest on her closed eyes and the long dark blond lashes which almost touched the top of her cheeks. He counted the faint freckles which dusted the top of her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, and which were not usually visible during the day as Harry hated them so much and therefore insisted in covering them with make-up. Dempsey on the other hand thought that they were rather cute, and couldn't help but wonder if their children would inherit Harry's blue eyes, golden locks and naturally pale skin, or his darker hair and slightly olive complexion?

Truth be told he actually preferred Harry with her naturally porcelain skin, rather than the tanned look which she preferred, as there was something so pure and bewitchingly erotic about it. He'd only voiced that opinion on one occasion during a rare sunny day off from work, when Harry had insisted on spending the entire day sunbathing in the garden, and he had grown restless after only a few hours and after Harry had declined his invitation to cover her in oil for the second time in as many hours. How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands off her when she lay like that glistening in the sun, looking good enough to eat, and causing his imagination to run wild as he imagined her body sensually slipping and sliding against his own?

Dempsey continued to observe Harry, his eyes traversing their familiar route across her face, until they came to rest on her full pink lips, and with as much will power as he could muster he resisted the intense urge to kiss her beautiful mouth.

'Damn, he had been resistin' a helluva lot of urges lately' Dempsey reminded himself, as his intention had been to drag Harry straight into bed after returning from New York.

'Hell, who needed a bed, huh? Any horizontal or even for that matter vertical surface woulda done.' Dempsey told himself as several vivid memories of the past year flooded his brain, and caused an automatic awakening beneath the sheets.

Dempsey instinctively moistened his lips at the thought, and inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils and senses with that unique fusion that was Harry; shampoo and bubble bath, plus a hint of perfume and freshly laundered sheets and pyjama's – his girl was a clean freak, yet the smell both turned him on and relaxed him in equal measures.

He couldn't prevent the smile that forced its way across his lips as his eyes once more travelled from Harry's mouth, up over her cute button nose and to her eyes, which much to his surprise were now wide open, the sparkling blue of her irises gazing directly back at him.

"You're awake!" Dempsey stated the obvious.

"Mmm, and you were staring." Harry quietly replied, having noticed as soon as she had opened her eyes that Dempsey's own seemed to be fixated on her mouth, and wondering if he might dare kiss her whilst he thought that she was still sleeping.

"I can't help myself, you're beautiful." Dempsey emotionally responded, as he briefly trailed his fingertip down the side of Harry's face before taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and staring directly into her eyes.

Harry felt uncomfortable with such scrutiny and praise, but also mesmerized by the way that James was looking her and holding her gaze, and it was then that she noticed it.

"Your eyes, they're not brown!?" Harry spoke in surprise as she continued to stare directly into them, and realised that there was something very familiar about green colour flecked with light brown hazel around the wide pupils whose focus remained solely on her.

"Never have been." Dempsey lightly chuckled as he lightly ran his fingers through Harry's hair as it splayed out over his shoulder while she continued to gaze up at him.

"So, why did I think that they were?" Harry asked in confusion, as he began to wonder if maybe she hadn't really looked, and concluded that it must be the angle of the sunlight cutting in through the gap in the bedroom curtains, which was illuminating both of their faces which had caused her to realise.

"Dunno….maybes somethin' to do with that nasty knock to that pretty little head of yours huh?" Dempsey jokingly replied before adding "See anythin' else that you ain't noticed before?"

"No." Harry replied as her eyes flicked down to his lips before once more meeting his gaze…..She hadn't really paid much attention before, but she realised that she liked his eyes, even the way that they creased up at the corners when they were smiling at her. They were kind and gentle, and what's more they were filled with both love and humour, and that love was for her. No man had ever looked at her in that way, with such an intensity that burned through and warmed her very soul.

She could fall in love with those eyes, in fact with startling clarity she realised that she maybe already had!

Dempsey could tell that there was something going on behind those baby blues. Was that a mixture of surprise and recognition he witnessed as their eyes remained locked on each other?

"Whad'ya thinkin' Princess?" He dared ask.

"I'm not entirely sure." Harry breathed in a light response as she tried to interpret what her brain was trying to tell her, but found her gaze being drawn to James' lips and a sudden desire to feel them pressed against her own.

Harry's sudden change in focus didn't go un-noticed by Dempsey, who was also thinking exactly the same thing, and so acting on instinct and without really questioning what he was doing, he gently caught Harry's chin and tilted her face up towards his own before seconds later as if drawn by some magnetic or magical force their lips gently met.

…

Had the day off work today after being on a training course last week, and then having to go back into the office after the course until 8pm and on Saturday to catch up with everything. I hate having a 1.5 hour commute and getting home after 9.30pm, doesn't give me a chance to do anything. Anyway I have spent all afternoon working on this update, so I hope that you enjoy reading it and look forward to reading your reviews – no matter how small. It's just nice to know that there are people out there who are still reading my story and appreciate my efforts. Thanks x