Slowly stirring the next morning Ric roused confused, he wasn't sure if it had been a dream, an effigy, some figment of his normally sedate imagination. He couldn't be more wrong, they Ihad/I spent the most beautifully passionate night together, they Ihad/I flown to another, romantic country. He Ihad/I fulfilled every short lived fantasy. He was with Connie. Light shards fell on their bed as he propped himself up, gazing intently at her peaceful sleep he mimicked the smile toying with her features. It had been a very long time since he'd seen her relax and be totally at ease with herself. She would still have shadows of withdrawal, when she was amongst large groups of men, when he'd been there he would notice the shakes manifesting on her shoulders, the quake in her lip. It puzzled him as to why she was so much stronger in bed so to speak, yet fearful of crowds, psychoanalysis had never been his forte, nor had he needed it to be.
Staggering into his reverie he refocused his gaze on her "sorry I wasn't paying attention," he grumbled.
"I asked how long you'd been awake," she smiled, fiddling a wayward strand of hair into perfection; it wasn't a mannerism he would normally pick up, her entire demeanour somewhat like a spoilt child revelling in adoring affection.
"Not long, you looked too peaceful to wake," he shrugged propping himself upright in bed.
"It was one of the best night's sleep I've had in a long time," she smirked coyly, dragging her legs up towards her chest so they rarely scraped at her non-existent stomach. Resting her head on her knees she could keep an eye on Ric and another distant dream on the beach that lay in front of them. Sitting in companionable silence was something these two did best, neither were big talkers unless they had to say something and neither felt the superficial need to content the air between them. "We didn't come here to sit around inside all day, I'm going for a shower, then I have a surprise for you," Connie winked, releasing the bed clothes as she shuffled into the bathroom, closely followed by Ric curious as to the other surprises she'd been planning.
"There is room for two in that shower," he told her calmly, following her behind the glass partition, she wore her arms tightly across her chest as if denying him something that he desperately wanted, teasing his way under her arms he took to the full view, admiring with soft kisses as the warm water puckered down on them. He could feel her blood gently pulsating beneath her skin as he cupped her breast softly, it wasn't rough, and it didn't need to be. Every so often he would feel a stronger, more intense rush, flushing her out and rekindling the fire swiftly and more efficiently. Twirling her round like a ballerina he slowly let her fall neatly into his arms, moving like dancers in opera. Drifting back out of his arms slightly she let the water cascade between them, giving his arms space to move up and down her back, massaging the knots left in repercussion of the previous night. Slowly swivelling back round to face him she gently grasped at his erection, thrusting her hand forcefully towards the base, then releasing completely, drawing her finger back up to the tip she waited for it to well up, swell like an over inflated balloon, waiting to be popped. She was patient, letting him surpass the point at which he would need her, listening for the drop in tone as his moans varied themselves mindlessly. Flicking her finger across the tip she let her fingers graze round the base, shelling the un-open able nut, the ones that you wrestle with at Christmas in a vain attempt at avoiding awkward conversations with people forced together for one night a year under the code name of family. He soon grew tired of her actions, returning to a more normal sedate state, their morning outburst ended as she switched the shower off, dabbing at her skins softly with a towel before brushing past him in a momentary fizz of passion.
"So what are we doing today," Ric asked as he emerged from the bathroom finding Connie putting the finishing touches to a beautiful red dress concealing a black bikini beneath. He felt rather ashamed that most of the clothes he'd packed were scruffy tees still in the suitcase from his last trip to Ghana. Pulling out the kaftans he'd worn to the christening he put it on unceremoniously.
"You'll see, she told him secretively," leading him out of the room without a backward glance. Padding along the carpeted floor they met an array of odd looks from various couples returning from sunrise strolls, or whatever the latest French vogue happened to be.
Stepping out onto the promenade des Angles it was easy to see why she loved the city; sitting on the most gorgeous bay curving round perfectly was a vibrant, colourful city, proved to be loved by artists and travellers alike. The red terracotta pavement stretched out in front of them, idly concealing the pebble beach lined with over rated café's and bars. Passing them by they continued to contentedly stroll along the promenade they passed the Casino hotel, Connie averting him subconsciously towards the sea absentmindedly point out one the more prominent houses sitting on the hill overshadowing the bay.
"Take my hand," he told her softly, waiting patiently as she considered his simple request, they were both perfectly apt at fulfilling various needs the other had, yet displaying affection outside of the bedroom seemed serenely odd to her, never in a million years bar their honeymoon had she held hands with Michael, mush had not been part of their plan. They way he's asked so politely as if he were a poor child asking for a new toy, fully expecting the answer to be no, yet hoping for a yes. She felt her hand slowly unfurl and levitate towards his, gripping it slightly as they proceeded further.
"I have no idea why that was such a big deal," she whispered slowly, worried that she would some how scare him off.
"You're still getting used to the idea," he chuckled, meaning his statement more as a gentle question than a figment of conversation. By now they'd puddle along from the hotel, now a distant green topped building to the outskirts of the old town, more ornate renaissance buildings filing into view, their disorderly manner pleasing to an eye more used to looking at regular British 60's eyesores.
"It's true I guess, Michael and I never did this," she mumbled, slowly grinding to a standstill on the brow of the gentle hill. They moved towards the stone seats lining the view point giving them a breathtaking point to admire the bay and all its glory, looking hard enough they could see the next bay and the airport bridging between the two.
"You hardly seem the type," Ric admitted in return, he couldn't help his honesty, particularly over relationships, his distaste at Jess and Zubin hadn't gone un-noticed. It was the disregard for their relationship that had made Paris' passing so much worse to him. Just as he was slowly coming round to them as a couple and an entity they'd lost the one thing forcing them to make it work, the pipe dreams going up in smoke were almost too much to bear for his daughter. He wasn't as miffed by Zubin's actions, he would of done the same, bury his head in the sand for far too long and then wrestle with consequence later.
"Meaning?" she replied, shifting slightly along the bench so as to get a clearer view of his puzzled face, the look that anyone gave when they decided whether to dig the hole deeper or climb out of it again.
"You deserve better than him," he shrugged, hoping it would pass before they got any more awkward with one another, "so what is this surprise then?"
"Follow me," she told him concisely, taking his hand as they slopped off down the other side of the hill, moving amicably towards the Nice harbour, lined with various different boats, luxury cruise ships and a high proportion of expensive yachts, snuggling into his embrace as a brisk wind fondled at her short sleeves Connie swore that his heart skipped a beat in a flurry of excitement. "What do you think of this one?" she asked as they neared a more prominent, expensive yacht sitting idle amongst fishing boats.
"It's erm… rather nice," he told her with a coy looking smile, she wasn't the type of person to go pointing out insolent pieces of scenery unless it was needed.
"Well actually, I technically own it," she smirked dancing around on his arm like a love struck teenager, turning to face him as he attempted to spit out something that resembled English.
"How? I mean why? I mean wow," he stuttered, following her onto the beech wood lined boat and into the plush looking living room adorned with leather sofa's and amazing artwork, leading nicely towards the bar nestling at the end of the spacious room.
"Michael's family are too rich for their own good, we got given it for a wedding present, well sort of, his mum told us we had free use of it whenever we wanted," Connie shrugged helping herself to a seat.
"Ahh lucky you then," he muttered, joining her on the seat, "the most I got for a wedding present was a pat on the back come wife number three" he chuckled, finding the image of family and friends congratulating him minus gifts rather amusing now.
"I only married the once Ric, that's where the difference lies," she winked, becoming aware of the presence of someone else in the room. "Ahh Miguel, this is Ric a close friend of mine, we are staying on the yacht for a week," she smiled at the rather tanned twenty something year old, dressed in long shorts and a ripped t-shirt.
"Aaa Miizzz Beeeechamp, it iz so luffly to meet zo agaiiin, doez we want to go zee anyfere in partuiclar," Miguel responded in atrocious English, it was what attracted him to Connie, the fact that beyond the harbour and see he couldn't tell anyone anything, let alone call Michael to tell him otherwise.
"Cannes is supposed to be good around this time of the year isn't it, but for now I'll stay here thank you, we'll ring if we need anything else," she told him sternly, waiting till he'd shuffled uneasily out of the room before returning her attention to Ric. "Well?"
"I think this will do," he smirked, "just out of interest, did you hire him for his inability to speak English or his body,"
"Both," Connie winked, giving Ric horrific images of the two of them together out at sea whilst Michael was in the vicinity, it certainly was going to be an interesting ride.