It felt good to be alone with her, the restaurant he'd chosen was small and tucked away and he'd never once been there and found it busy. They could sit and talk without fear of being harassed. He chose a table by the window overlooking the ocean, light music played in the background and candlelight shone on her perfect features.
"Thank you." She smiled folding her hands together and watching as he poured the wine.
"You're very welcome. Have you decided what you'd like?"
"You choose, you know the house speciality."
"Alright." He scanned the menu and quickly decided on the food they would eat.
"Tell me, how long have you known Elisa?"
"Erm, well they've been married for about fifteen years now, I'd never met her before the wedding. I wasn't here."
"You were meeting me."
"A day I'm not likely to forget." He stopped when the waiter approached the table and placed their order. As he glanced around he could tell the other waiters were staring at them a little too inquisitively.
"We may get bombarded for autographs." He whispered across to her.
She sipped her wine and casually looked around. "Ah, I see. Are we safe?"
"I think we'll survive..." he caught the look in her eye and returned the smile.
"I think we will too." She offered reaching for his hand. "Tell me, how are you now? And I mean honestly, not skimming over things. I need to know."
"Now you're here I'm amazing. The past three weeks all I've been thinking is why did I do it? What was I thinking? And remembering the honeymoon and how perfect it was and how happy I felt. And then getting home and just... wow, this is a change."
He shrugged. "I'm not making sense."
"In a way, but you expected more from me?"
"I think I expected too much. I expected it to be like that all the time and that was too much. And I expected too much from myself – to easily slip into this new role, adapt like that." He clicked his fingers. "It's not possible."
"I never expected anything from you – you already gave me so much."
"Thank you, I don't deserve that but thank you. The bottom line is, after all that's happened recently, all the mistakes I've made."
"We've made!" She emphasised.
"Alright, we. The only thing that matters is I love you, so much I can hardly breathe at times." He rushed the words out, clinging to her hand and watching her reaction. "And I'm sorry, and I need you. I need to be with you. Now. For the rest of my life."
"I want that too, so many things I want to do with you, and places to see and things to say not because I have anything of life changing value to say but just to share everything with you. And that's my mistake - I still don't open up enough to you. I still find it a challenge to share it all."
"I can understand the why though, even if it's difficult to deal with at times. Being Mr. Clarisse Renaldi isn't easy."
"I never see you in that way."
"You may not, others might." He shrugged. "They probably do. I'm just going to have to get used to that."
"No!" Her nails dug into his skin. "No don't get used to that, you're who you are, individual, not tagged onto me. I don't want you to put up with it for the sake of..." she waved a hand vaguely searching for the right words.
"Right now I would do anything I could to keep hold of this." He ran his finger over her wedding band.
Her face softened. "As would I – hence my sudden appearance here."
"I'll forever be grateful to Mia for her little push, the second time I believe she's had a hand in my love life."
Clarisse raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Your love life?"
He laughed, wanted to lean forward and catch her smile in a kiss but the waiter approached their table and instead he let go of her hand – reluctantly – and leant back in his chair.
"Tiger prawns?" She mouthed across at him, she usually avoided seafood.
He nodded. "Trust me, they're gorgeous." He broke the shell and dipped the pink flesh into the small pot of sauce, beckoned her forward and fed it to her.
"See." He smiled noting her expression.
"Oh but you're always right." She teased, tempted to lick her fingertips, or his, she wasn't entirely sure which would be the better choice. "Your turn?" She returned the favour and fed him. Joseph had the feeling he could get quite used to evenings like this.
"More?" He asked holding the wine bottle up.
"I know I shouldn't but yes..." She sighed and leant forward, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her folded hands.
Her head was getting heavy; if she closed her eyes for too long a spinning sensation took hold of her senses. It was surely a bad sign but it felt good nevertheless.
"Rupert had lovers Joseph, did you know that?" She blurted out.
He almost choked on his wine. "Yes, I mean, I suspected."
"He had many, over the years. It wasn't a great shock, afterall we hardly married for all that type of thing."
He felt the need to say something comforting but knew well enough by now that when she started to let go of her control and reveal details about her life it was best to remain silent. Just listen and absorb it and revel in the fact she was sharing with him.
She ran her finger along the rim of her glass gazing into the wine. "It never bothered me, not once." She shrugged. "But the thought of you just kissing another woman, sickens me."
"Clarisse I'm..."
"No, no you don't have to say that. I didn't mean it to sound like I was blaming you or... I just meant because you mean so much to me. So much more than I've ever known."
"And that's why I couldn't bear to go back with you, the guilt was too much. I took the cowards way out."
"No, you did what was best. For both of us." She took a sip of her wine allowing the liquid to numb her senses. "If we hadn't experienced this time apart I'm not sure I would understand just what it means to have you in my life. Not fully. And believe me Joseph, I won't be letting you out on your own again for some time..." She glared across the table at him but ruined the effect by breaking into a broad bright smile.
"Alright ma'am, I'm chained to your side – I think I can deal with that."
She dropped a hand to his and rubbed his fingers. "The truth of the matter is," she lowered her voice so only he could hear. "I didn't care who Rupert was screwing around with. Just as long as I didn't have to know about it in detail."
"Clarisse!" he admonished. "You must be drunk, I've seen this side of you only once before."
"Only half way there, this isn't quite up to the same standard as the Irish Cream."
"I should get you home."
"I'm telling you the truth..."
"And being honest with it." He glanced around to make sure nobody else was listening in. The restaurant was virtually empty, a group at the other side, another couple a few tables back. Nobody was paying them any unwelcome attention.
"Well now that I've got you in a revealing state of mind can I ask you something very, very personal?"
"No I haven't had surgery my skin is just naturally smooth and fresh." She pronounced holding her head up for inspection.
He bit his lip as his mouth stretched into a smile. "That was hardly it. What I was going to ask was... and this may be a step too far on my part."
"Never, go on."
"Was it difficult, I mean that side of things, in the marriage?"
She lowered her head, narrowing her eyes trying to understand the question. "That side, what... oh, oh I see." Suddenly she was sitting straight back in her chair again and Joseph feared he'd crossed a line.
"I'm sorry, it doesn't matter."
"No, it's fine. I mean it wasn't fine, it was – what it was. I have no wish to repeat those moments ever in my life." She folded the napkin on the table. "I'm not saying it was a wholly unpleasurable experience it just wasn't," she shrugged. "It's not what you dream of as a young girl."
She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "I didn't know when I was nineteen that it would take me many, many, many years to finally fulfil those wants."
Her eyes sparkled and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable being in the restaurant. He stretched his legs out beneath the table, he should say something meaningful but as he watched her face he realised she didn't need that. She knew him well enough now, and he knew her, there was no need for him to convey some kind of sympathy – she knew how he felt.
"Should I order coffee?" He finally asked.
She shook her head. "Let's walk for a while, back to the hotel."
"Well it's stopped raining, still cold though."
"I don't mind that."
"Alright my dear, anything you wish..."
For a while they walked by the ocean, along the docks, her arm in his, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Tell me about things." She whispered into the night.
"Things?" He questioned glancing down at her face where it rested on his shoulder.
She shrugged. "Your mother, father."
"Not much to tell." He looked up at the sky, clear now after all the rainfall, the stars bright and dazzling. "I'm not sure I ever understood my mother, or am ever likely to."
"In what sense?"
"In the sense that she stayed with my father, who was a good man when he hadn't had a drink. But was a real bastard when he had."
The strength of his words startled her and she lifted her face to look at him, gripping his arm as he spoke.
"Why do you think I spent so much time with my Uncle." He added simply. "Rico loved him, I see similarities sometimes... it scares me."
"When you were here, before... before all this between us. And you said you fought with him..."
"Yes."
"Physically?"
"Yes, physically."
She inwardly winced yet hid the discomfort well, Joseph was a strong, healthy man. But Rico was almost ten years younger, a physically demanding job, the hot weather of the summer – hell he must have been twice as strong as his older brother.
She was still unsure about him, sure they'd made a start, a breakthrough you could call it. Yet deep down something remained unsettled inside about him and the way he would stare at her. In a way she could see the similarities between the two, physically built the same, Rico's muscles more pronounced though and his face clean-shaven. But he didn't have Joseph's eyes, that kindness, that depth of feeling and warmth. All that love.
"He didn't hurt me, not really, no real damage – if that's what's bothering you. I can still cut it you know." He smiled trying to alter the mood.
"I have no doubt about that."
He stopped the walk, turned her in his arms and brushed a hand down her cheek. "It's over now anyway, time to move on. With everything." He quickly added.
"I agree." She rested her forehead on his and closed her eyes taking in a deep breath of his cologne.
Her arms found their way beneath his coat and she ran her hands down his back. There was something intensely erotic about feeling his warm, firm body beneath her fingertips. That thrill of touching another human being made a thousand times more intoxicating when you loved that person.
"Are you tired?" He asked as her body swayed against his.
"Not really, too much I want to say."
"Hmm, I know what you mean. I lay awake for hours last night."
"You did?" She pulled back so she could see his face.
"Too long away from you, didn't want to miss a second."
"No more nights apart."
"No." He agreed taking a gulp of cool night air as her hands continued to move over his back.
She shivered against him.
"Too cold out here, we should get back." He wasn't thrilled about breaking that wonderful contact but it was getting very late and very cold.
As they got closer to the hotel they could hear music being played, a simple Spanish guitar. There were coloured lights hung in the trees and in the distance they could make out a small makeshift dance floor.
Clarisse was the one to halt their walk, holding Joseph back and leaning against a railing to watch as the couples danced. They stood in silence for at least two pieces of music, holding hands and standing side-by-side watching.
"Would you like to join in?" Joseph finally said.
She looked up at him. "Do you?"
"We haven't danced in a long time." He stated, letting go of her hand turning so he could look out at the dark expanse of ocean below them.
"Too long." She added turning next to him, resting her hand next to his where he held the railing.
"I remember," he laughed. "Some time ago now, you told Mia the quickest way to a Spanish heart wasthrough dance."
She smiled recalling the memory. "Yes."
"Is it still true?"
"Shouldn't I ask you that, did I win your heart with dance?"
There was a twinkle in her eye as she said it, the self-assured Clarisse he knew so well making an appearance.
"Partly, but if I'm honest dancing with you was simply a legal way of getting to touch you." His voice dropped a notch or two deeper as he said it, warm and inviting.
This time her laughter was contagious, she fell against him. There was still something intensely exhilarating about hearing her laugh so openly with him.
"I should have you whipped for insolence Sir."
"That would have been a start." He held her shaking body against him. "All those years lusting after the one thing you could never have – well it wasn't easy." He said honestly.
"I know." Suddenly serious again she held his face and kissed him, slowly, deeply. The way she'd wanted to since the previous day. "Let's go back to the hotel." Her voice was husky, her eyes held his gaze with a confident certainty.
He didn't argue, what reason was there too? He linked his arm around her and led her past the band and intimate dancing toward the hotel.
Alright, decision time, I can either carry on fixing things grandly and it all goes smoothly etc etc. OR I can bring Rico back and have him do something nasty. Your choice readers......
Sorry so long in updating – been really busy at school with lesson planning, marking and badly behaved teenage boys!