Lots of love for the reviews :) off to the beach today in absolute rain storm so shall see what insp hits to write!

Chapter twenty.

With her hand upon her beating heart, Rose tried so very hard to calm it, and recollect why her own rebellious nature had for once not been suppressed but soar. She had soared once already, with Jack Dawson and now, after removing the heavy rock which bound her to Cal Hockley, her new future seemed to be in front of her; if she wished it. It wouldn't be a life of love, but of fun, of laughter and with a man who entirely consumed her.

With the Heart of the Ocean now at her throat, Rose came to Jack without any clothes and ignored any sight of imperfections which she once believed herself to have. Jack's eyes had remained on hers. A variety of drawing materials were laid out before him but Rose barely paid mind to them, instead noting his casual seating amongst the ornate backdrop of her lounge. His white shirt was unbuttoned two or three with his smooth chest visible, the sleeve of his shirts was rolled up to his elbow and his left leg casually slung over his right. He had made himself at home within her lounge; it was almost funny to see his leisurely ways within the stiff sitting room, a place used to take tea, to read and to discuss the latest fashions, yet, here she was, naked before a near stranger.

It wasn't cold, it was suddenly very warm. The heat from the fire in the hearth expelled a dry warmth about the small room but it was the flow of heat which radiated from Jack's dazed gaze which caused the flush to come to her. As slowly, but not greedily, his eyes glanced down the length of her body, then back up to meet her curious watch. Her hands instinctively came to her stomach in a moment of self-awareness but she stopped, the awed wonder of Jack's gaze rooted her there as though she was the doe and he, the hunter with a flash lamp.

''Rose, I have never seen anything as beautiful as you,'' the fire in his eyes confirmed how affected he was. His voice confirmed just how dry his throat had become. The slow, movements of his hands told her that he was just as nervous as she.

Exhaling in a small, slow breath, Rose hadn't recalled stopping breathing.

''Lie on the bed, I mean the couch,'' Jack stumbled, soothing out her worries with that small fumbling of words indicating just how nervous he was, also. It was ironic, how a man so sure of his purpose in life, of his feelings for her and how she should be able to be free from her Society's grasp and yet, he became a wreck of some sort just from a naked woman; the sort of thing which could be a daily occurrence just weeks ago in Paris.

Once instructed, Rose seemed to be able to grasp full use of her body once more. Laying herself down slowly and in a way which could be a pose. Everything, each part of her was now available for his view. In another wave of awareness, she moved her arm in a variety of poses, not quite knowing just how to be a beautiful model about to be drawn from life. The subjects of his other drawings were gorgeous, elegant and—bohemian, Rose was a woman submerged into a world of fools and having never barely kissed a man before just days before, she was at a complete loss of what to do. It was difficult when one had never looked at themselves to be viewed as a sensual person. To be viewed as a person who could be desired not just for their body but for their mind, too. Jack Dawson saw her as a whole, and that, was the reason for the confidence which had finally come to the surface.

Finally, the artist in Jack seemed to know when to take over.

''Tell me when that looks right-'' Her voice was laced with shrapnel of insecurities until he soothed her with a determined response.

''Put that arm right there, where it was,'' Rose placed her right hand above her head. ''And that other hand, up by your face right there.''

She did, as he had instructed.

''Now, head down, eyes to me. Keep them on me.''

''Where else could they be?'' She whispered, unsure of whether he had heard.

''Try to stay still.''

Then, his hand started to move, creating the lines which would become her on paper. Through her own hazy vision, she could see the concentration within his eyes, how he seemed to smudge to perfect creation. Each glance he took back to her was filled with such intensity. Did he watch every girl he had drawn so intently? It was so beautiful to watch a man at work, with hands so talented. The thud of her own heartbeat filled her ears, and she felt the urge to twitch in case it disturbed his reverie. The beauty of his face, framed by his hair which kept falling into his eyes in the process of him drawing was intoxicating. The blue of his eyes sparkled in the dim lamp light and the only sound was his scratching upon the paper and the odd crackle of the fire but, surely there was her heartbeat, too? If he was currently drawing the shape of her body, Rose exhaled slowly through her lips to allow her nerves to calm a little more as though her knowing that he could see every inch of her was the most daunting thought. He would glance up, every five or so seconds, with another intense look at Rose in her entire most vulnerable state but one which made her feel beautiful, it made her nervous but above all, it felt erotic.

Jack's cheeks turned into a blush, and then his eyes fell upon the hair there nestled between her legs. Goosebumps appeared over her breasts, her nipples tightening as she suddenly felt a cool chill but it wasn't because she was cold, but something else as it travelled throughout her entire body like an electric current. If he noticed her reaction to him, he didn't voice it but the flame colour of his cheeks did amuse her, just a second.

''I do believe that you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste.''

Jack's lips turned into a smirk.

''I cannot imagine Monsieur Monet blushing.''

''That is because he does landscapes.'' Jack smiled at her teasing. ''Just relax your face. No laughing.''

''Sorry.''

As much as Rose had enjoyed the momentary teasing of his flushing cheeks, she returned to her serious face just as quickly. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she twitched now and again feeling the adrenaline running through her. His hands mesmerised her; how they worked so quickly, smudging the lines and how the vision his eyes saw would be transferred onto a sheet of blank paper.

Watching Jack's hands at work, Rose's mind wondered to how would his hands feel upon her waist, on her bare skin there and then what if they moved up? The thoughts caused her entire body to start to tremble beneath his eyes, as he smudged his way over the picture. The coldness overcame her body again, but it was like a shiver without the breeze. Her lips felt dry, her body rooted to the very couch as he continued his gaze upon her whilst he completed the drawing. The sparkle of his eyes seemed to simmer with something unspoken between them, and every now and again she heard him sigh or gasp for more air, just as she felt herself; breathless but—alive.

Rose had broken down barriers; ones which should never have been touched between herself and a man whom she had known for just mere days. A man who had taunted not only her, but seemingly himself as well, to stay away from her. They were not two people even inclined to be within the same sentence and yet, together, something made sense. To marry him; a stranger, a man who she had known four days, seemed to make complete and utter sense.

Now, she was laid naked, before the man who she was absolutely infatuated with wearing a priceless diamond given to her by the man who she loathed; a man who had almost told her that if they married, he would have never been faithful to her. The engagement ring sat on her dressing table where it would be remaining until returned to Caledon Hockley. The choice had already been made, regardless of anything.

''It is done.'' Jack uncrossed his legs, stretching with his arms behind his shoulders in the most casual of ways.

''Date it, Jack,'' Rose remembered how his others were always dated and signed, along with a person's name or a place.

Rose moved; her limbs felt as though they were boneless. Quickly, Jack placed his own jacket across her shoulders to secure her modesty in one simple move and she was thankful. Sitting back on the chair, Rose peered across his shoulder and saw that he had put his initials on the edge, the date and her name right there; Rose. The drawing itself stole her words for a second as she faced the image of herself which was of a woman; a woman with such fire and passion evident there as well as the innocence which had shone through.

''Thank you,'' it was all that she could manage through her cloud of intoxication. He closed the portfolio and handed the entire thing to her. Jack's eyes went to her lips, as she was so close to feel his sweet breath upon her face and she closed the gap between them both, kissing him just once but he went to kiss her again and she giggled into his mouth as he didn't release her lips as she tried to pull the portfolio from the grasp but he pulled it back to himself, causing her to stumble forward.

Rose clutched the portfolio to her chest, feeling the coolness of it against her almost bare skin.

''Could you remove this hideous thing for me?''

With obviously trembling fingers, Jack took a cold finger and moved Rose's hair over her shoulder to reach the clasp. The single touch sent that same shiver down her spine but then it turned to a fire, spreading down her back and her spine before reaching her belly and she sucked in a gasp.

''Do you not intend to keep it?''

Rose laughed, sensing his half serious tone.

''No," she said, "I wish to never wear it again. I only wished to wear it this once."

He pulled it away from her neck and the weight of it disappeared. She knew that it would be the only time which she ever wore it. Jack placed it within her palm, she closed her fingers over it and the sparkle disappeared into her dainty hand but when she glanced up, the sparkle of the same blue found in Jack's eyes stole her breath away. There, beneath his gaze, she felt more exposed than she had done when naked.

''Thank you.''

Rose went to the wardrobe, which contained the box for the necklace, as well as the paper and pen for which she needed to write the note whilst it was still within her head. She heard Jack rustling about in the sitting room, assuming that he was clearing away the bits which had been moved when he had prepared for the drawing to take place. Taking a piece of paper, Rose started her note, the writing flowing with such confidence in beautiful, slanted letters;

Darling,

I know how you wished to keep me locked away. To prevent me from been anything other than your wife in practise. To promise to love, honour and obey you would be a lie, for I would never be able to do any of it.

Now, though, at least you can keep a part of me locked away in your safe. The part you wished for, for so long but will never be able to have.

Rose.

Rose would breakaway. This was her freedom. It compiled everything which Cal needed to know in one single drawing; his fiancée caged in that damned diamond but drawn naked by another man. A man who Rose was beyond enamoured with. Her engagement ring sat atop the velvet necklace box and that would seal her own fate.

''What are you doing?''

Rose was startled by Jack coming into the room with his hands thrust into his pockets, the way his shirt was open now that he was stood seemed to steal her attention more than she had noticed before.

''Could you put this back in the safe for me?''

''Yes.'' His eyes sparkled with confusion. ''What is it?''

Rose smiled, ''read it.''

Settling the box down upon the writing desk, he watched her engagement ring which sat atop glitter beneath the dim lamps and then opened the note which she had neatly folded in half and weighted down by her ring. As he read the words, realisation dawned somehow, his eyes glanced up to her with sparkling consideration.

''You're leaving him for certain?''

''Yes.'' Did he not expect her to follow through with her heart?

Having no other notion of what to do, Jack lowered his head and captured her lips, his tongue slipping briefly inside. His lips hadn't been on hers in so long and even though it was brief, he sensed her relaxing just slightly before he yanked his head back from her snapping teeth.

''God, you're a pistol.''

''Can you handle me?''

''No. I don't wish to handle you.'' Jack breathed her in. ''I don't wish to be anything other than your husband.''

Something in the air had changed then. Jack's eyes were a stark blue in the light of the room; charged with something which she hadn't witnessed until then. She could tell by the rise and fall of his chest, how he seemed to suppress the need to gasp for more air and when she finally noticed how smooth his chin was usually, and now he seemed to have gotten a shadow of hair upon his chin and upper lip; her unsteady hand was already reaching up to his cool face to touch it. Her hand grew clammy for some reason as it brushed down against the tuft of growth, downwards and then to his neck and the open collar of his shirt. Her hand rested there; flat at the base of his neck and his breathing had shallowed and his heart galloped. Yes, he felt the same from her touch as she had from his own.

What was happening?

Time stood still. Pinned beneath his gaze, the intensity and exhilaration of it was exciting, wonderful and made her mostly curious as to what he saw when he watched her.

Moisture seemed to come to her eyes and she toyed with the idea of removing her hand for fear of what would happen if she kept it right there. Adrenaline seemed to charge her body in some way as though it was bestowing a need within her. An urge to lower her hand, beneath the smattering of hair which she could feel below her palm. An urge to follow it down lower, and lower beneath his shirt. The desire wasn't from a place which she had encountered before. It wasn't indecent at all; not like the stares from Cal she had felt upon her on more than one occasion. Jack's desire seemed to have come about from the exchange just today, the longing had begun last night when they had danced but now between them the heat seemed to rise. Her skin burned, tingled, beneath his gaze. Her eyes gathered about his body, slowly down and then back up. A flush came over her from the awareness of her feeling matching his own. His nostrils flared as he concentrated on the steadiness of his own breathing but his racing heart which she felt against her hand betrayed his cool exterior.

Both of their defences were down, lowered so far down that they were sharing the same world; finally. Rose was weak against his stare, forever pinned and feeling so utterly exposed beneath it. Sharing her naked body with her had been the most wonderful feeling which one could ever imagine, but now, knowing just what could transpire between them frightened her more than the idea of him seeing her there without clothes. Everything about them seemed to be erased. As Rose lowered her hands, the coat fell open at the front, just enough to allow a whisper of it to reveal her naval, the part of her breasts and then the line of hair beneath her bellybutton.

If Rose spoke now, words would completely fail her. The fire within his eyes propelled her forward without feeling the need to close the jacket. Rose placed her cool hand at the centre of Jack's chest, it was just as smooth as she had thought but a small smattering of dark hair went downwards. Beneath the flat of her palm, Rose felt how his heart hammered just as hers did. His eyes shone, his hair falling into them in a way which seemed to seduce her right from the start. Rose was slowly seduced by him; the way in which he lived, the way he touched her and ensured she felt the most beautiful a woman ever should.

As Jack grasped her fingers, rubbing his own over them, he glanced down and entwined their fingers.

''This power will only draw us closer together.''

''It is powerful.''

Flexing her fingers on his chest, Rose stroked across the open part of his shirt, overwhelmed by the feel of his warmth beneath her hand and the way which his breathing seemed to stall when she moved her fingers there.

''Why does that happen?''

''Why do I stop breathing?''

''Yes.''

''Because you make me nervous.''

Rose's heart started to drum with such an enigmatic force that she had to remove her hand in order to gain some perspective on everything which had transpired just over the course of a few hours. Everything seemed to shift at an alarming pace and one could only digest it when it all ceased to just think and take a breath. Take a second. One could either follow it, or allow it to consume her. Make it count, he had said to the entire table at dinner. Surely that meant to follow her racing heart to wherever it led her, for her head had been logical for far too long; leading her only to unhappiness.

''I shall come for you tomorrow,'' Jack started, slowly, as though he was waiting for her to change her mind or to stop him but as she peeked up from behind her long lashes, her eyes were wide.

''Tomorrow?''

Before Rose could protest, she was silenced by a finger to her lips. ''You need to think. There is a lot of weight upon your shoulders. Now I seemed to have added a severe amount on top.''

'Do you not believe me to be sure of what I want?''

''I trust that you are, but as you say, this between us is overwhelmingly startling and to gain some sort of perspective, you must separate yourself from me just for tonight. Come to me before the morning if you have made your final decision before then and bring your maid, if you require one. I shall secure rooms for the both of you.''

''Can I—not come to yours?''

Jack sighed, stroking at a single loose curl. ''Not if you wish for your innocence to be gone before day break. It isn't proper for you to be seen in a man's quarters before marriage. If I recollect you were very much advised me on such matters for the entirety of this voyage.''

Rose laughed, quietly. How long ago it felt since the evening of their meeting. How she had gone from caring so much of her reputation to now caring so very little. If he kissed her passionately enough then and there, Rose was sure that she would allow him to make love to her and never regret it even if she lived to be a hundred and one. Regardless of what could happen between them. Willingly, she would allow him her innocence, because she was sure that within him, even though there had been other women before, she knew that an innocence shone. An innocence not of body, but of mind. Of the involvement of giving himself fully to another woman, in the knowledge that he was attached emotionally to her, just as Rose was with him.

''This is crazy.''

''I know. None of makes sense, but we just have to trust it.''