Chapter9. Oh, this has bad language.

Clarisse sat up as she watched Rupert go, a stunned look gracing her flushed face. Joseph sat up behind her, buttoning up his jeans.

"I belong to no-one," she choked, the strain of holding back tears evident in her voice. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"I can't return to him - I wont. I'm not his whore, I don't want him in my bed!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. The light of the moon made her look eerily white and pale, adding to her helpless appearance. Joseph edged forward, wrapping his arm gently round her and pulling her to rest against him.

"I'm so sorry," he gently whispered. She shook her head vehemently, turning to him with sheer determination in her oceanic eyes.

"Don't apologise, I wanted this."

"You didn't want to do this here, in the snow," he answered, hanging his head. She placed her hand under his chin, tilting his face so she could stare into his ashamed eyes.

"I did," she reassured, "I can't believe his words. I have been nothing but loyal to him. How dare he assume I'm using you for sex, if I wanted that I could screw him!" Her words made him feel sick, he had never seen her so angry, spitting out her words like they were venom. He knew that certainly wasn't her style, he knew she didn't act like Rupert. This was different, but only they could see that.

"Come on," he whispered, shaking his head, " Inside."

The fire place welcomed them, offering heat and warmth into the chilled veins that only minutes ago had been coursing with scorching passion. Clarisse fell into the chair, pulling her legs up to her chin and closing her eyes. He fetched some wine from the kitchen, feeling that something stronger than coffee was in order. He didn't know what to do or what to say. Never had he been caught doing anything like that before but even more, he felt as though he'd shamed her. His hands had been roaming, she was moaning his name and all that time……. God, he felt like a complete idiot. He wouldn't be surprised if he went home unemployed, in fact that seemed like something he could deal with.

Joseph couldn't remember feeling so afraid. Rupert wanted her when they returned but he wouldn't do it and that scared him. He couldn't, not now that she was his. Not now that he had told her. He felt weak, unable to control the shame at being caught. He couldn't stop the overpowering love and want for her. Running away wouldn't help, she was under his skin now. Deeper than ever.

He pulled off his jumper, beginning to feel the heat in the house as he busied himself in the kitchen, avoiding being near her for as long as possible. He was shaking so badly and as the wine bottle fell on the stone floor, sending deep red liquid everywhere he scolded himself for his apparent weakness. Stooping down he picked up the glass. Perhaps because he was shaking, or because he was unaware of his own strength, his blood soon joined the puddles of wine. Clarisse was at the kitchen door in a matter of seconds as he fumbled to pick up the shattered shards of the green glass.

She felt horrendous, seeing him like this. Never had she realised what might happen to him if they were caught. Bending down, she gripped his wrist, preventing him from grasping the glass and lacerating his hands any further.

"Don't," she whispered, "don't ruin those hands." He looked up into her eyes, deep and emotional as she stared back. Dropping the shards onto the floor he nodded and straightened up.

"Lets get this mess cleaned up," she smiled slightly. He looked up at her, a rueful smile flashing quickly across his features.

"Clarisse….," he whispered, facing her, "I can't lose you, but I won't put you through this."

"This," she stressed, stepping nearer him, "is what I want."

"How can you want this?" he questioned, frustrated, "How can you want me when you have all of this country, men who adore you, women who want to be you, a husband -," she held up her hand, shocked by his raging, but nevertheless wanting to explain. She didn't want a long explanation, a perfectly simple one came to mind.

"Because I love you."

Her answer, short, quick, simple was what he needed. His head came crashing to her shoulder as he held her tightly, willing back tears.

He didn't want to love her for fear of her, for the power she had at her finger tips, for the power she held over him alone. It wasn't fair that they should do this to each other, yet in most ways they were getting exactly what they wanted.

Clarisse held him against her, shocked by just how much Rupert's revelations had affected him. His breathing in short gasps, trying to hold back his obvious tears and discomfort.

"Rupert will never have me," she whispered as he raised his head. Relief fell over him, his body shrinking beneath her calming influence. His hands fell to his sides, stepping back to look at her. She turned from him, walking towards the window.

"I should not do this," she whispered, staring out into the wintry scene, "but my heart aches without you. My soul cries out for you, my body screams for your touch. I won't put myself through that, I won't deprive myself of you. My soul doesn't cry for Rupert, my heart doesn't ache, my body certainly doesn't scream out for him. Yet he wants it too, only to suit his selfish wants. I am no ones' puppet, I shall not be controlled and definitely not by Rupert. He may think I am someone who gets around, screws the gardener and if I wanted I could be. Rupert doesn't know how to love, perhaps I don't -"

"You do," he interrupted defensively. "Trust me Clarisse, you do."

She nodded, then continued.

"I think I do, or at least I want to. But he can't, he won't ever and I pity him. He doesn't understand, and in his eyes I'm simply using you for sex, but in my eyes……. maybe I'm selfish," she trailed off turning to face him as he leaned against the wall.

"I know it's not like that and you're not selfish," he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Here, like this," he whispered, motioning with his free hand to their completely secluded surroundings, "we can act like a couple, but back in the world which demands so much more, how can we? Shirking everything, you could never do that. How do we do this outside in the real world. Everyone watching, dancing around each other in a childish game."

"You made the choice to bring yourself into that world when you made love to me," she said, sounding a hell more harsher than she meant to. He paused a moment, tightening his grip on her shoulder.

"A choice I will never regret," he answered sharply, "and if I have to, I'll live with only being near you when it is allowed, when it suits you and I." Her face was painful now, hearing words she hoped wouldn't have come as soon as this.

"I ask you only one thing," he whispered, burying his head in her hair and breathing as his arms wrapped possessively round her upper body. She nodded, tears streaming down her face as she gazed out into the drifting snow.

"Always stay mine, never his. Never let him love you, you belong to me now," he whispered. His voice carried so much love, so much emotion that she buckled under him. She would never break his promise even if she suffered for it.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Clarisse sunk herself into the bubbly water of the monstrously large bath tub, washing the stickiness of the tears from her face. The room was unbelievably steamy, clouding the mirrors and windows and adding to the tiredness that had swept over her. Everything; shame, guilt, love, anger, adoration, hate had had a horrible affect on her. However, as her shoulder came into contact with his hands she felt suddenly at ease and so very languid. He had a miraculous affect over her, his hands working the pent up tension away from her. She sighed and fell against his knee as he perched on the end of the bath.

Joseph had pictured this so many times in his head, so many fantasies and situations with her that had clouded so many of his sleepless nights. And here he was , listening to her breathing, knowing she wanted him, holding her like this. As much as he felt guilt and shame, contentment surged through him, warming his veins. Her tired body lolled against him, a slight moan escaping her lips as his hands moved further down her tense back.

"Join me," she said coyly, the sleep evident in her voice.

"I don't think you can hold out," he chuckled.

"No, you're right," she laughed through a yawn, "Maybe tomorrow."

"It's a deal," he smiled, "You're so tired Clarisse, let's get you into bed."

He moved from behind her, slipping his toned arms under her. She rested against his bare chest, snaking her arms around his neck. He carried her dripping body from her bathroom, onto the towel covered chair in front of the fire in her suite. He dabbed her softly with the extravagantly plush and large bath towel, marvelling at the contentment and rosy flush that spread over her face. Scooping her up, he gently moved her to her bed. Sleep was quickly claiming her tired and exhausted mind.

The evening had taken its toll on her and as Joseph lifted her into bed, flashes of what had happened seemed to evade her. Rupert's face, his pure maliciousness, his gloating made her feel ill. She felt ashamed of the fact but nothing would stop her now, they had went too far.

Joseph lifted the silk sheets, slipping her dry body under them and lifting them to her.

"You'll stay," she whispered, he wasn't quite sure if it was a question or a command, never the less, he intended too. He didn't answer but as he climbed in next to her he could see the smile creeping over her face. He switched off the light and lay, rather confused.

He'd never done this before and he wasn't quite sure where to put his hands or how to lie or what to do. Clarisse could feel his discomfort, the way he lay stiffly on the edge of the bed. She languidly reached for his hand, grasping it. She felt him relax considerably, she smiled at her efforts as he moved nearer her. Her leg slipped over his lower body, coming to rest over him. Her hands found his upper arm and pulling herself even closer to him, she buried her head in his chest. His arms suddenly came alive, wrapping themselves round her, holding her as close as possible.

Joseph found himself in the most comfortable position in the world, one he knew he was made to fit into. He wasn't wary of it, or unsure what to do any longer. He couldn't give this up any more, not now he knew how all of it felt. He couldn't let her go and that frightened him, more than anything he'd ever faced.

We hope you liked, please review!

Yours,

The Authors