Part 2 - by Posh and Stoneygem

As former Queen of Genovia Clarisse was used to luxury, decadence, flamboyance, parties and balls and decorative jewels to adorn herself with. Yet somehow a part of her had never felt truly and absolutely beautiful, as Queen she shone brighter than any other woman at any crowded event because she was supposed to. Hours were spent on her choice of dress, hairstyle and jewels. People fussed over her make-up to make sure the perfect exterior was presented to the outside world. Yet beneath that was the woman who longed to be found beautiful just as she woke in the morning.

And with Joseph she found that.

From the beginning, from the morning after they wed she woke in his arms with him watching her. A bemused faraway look on his face as she stirred, and he told her how beautiful she looked, assured her of his love and that this was the way each morning would be from now on. Therefore to wake some months after that and find herself once again alone in their bed was a little unnerving. Then to find she was going to bed alone and Joseph was making excuses as to why he couldn't join her… well she felt that comfort and security slipping away as smoothly as it had arrived.

Now she stared at herself in the mirror and wondered if perhaps she should have enlisted the help of professionals, perhaps he liked that glamorous woman afterall. Perhaps he wanted that to return. Yet here she was, no jewels apart from her wedding ring. Her hair simply brushed, little make-up, a spray of the perfume he'd given her at Christmas and this simple outfit.

It was Mia, of all people, who had picked this dress for her. Chanel yes but not extravagant, simple black with this uneven cut on the bias, it complemented her figure, gave a little something extra to her hips and she almost felt herself swaying deliberately so it would float around her. There was nothing essentially eye-catching about the front but the back, well there wasn't a back, which meant one thing, she didn't have to choose a bra, she couldn't wear one. If she were going anywhere with other company she wouldn't have dared to go without one but as it was just going to be a husband and wife evening it was fine. She toyed with the idea of wearing a wrap but decided against it and simply hoped the open fire would offer enough warmth.

She wore stockings, black lacy French knickers and high shoes that gave her a little lift but not enough as to cause her to tower over him. She wanted to seduce him, not scare him away.

Their suite was the setting, her private dining room filled with candles, the fire lit, a heady scent in the air and light classical music in the background. Nothing to dance to just a relaxing background filler. She felt almost nervous as she sat on the couch waiting for him to return, by 7:15 she was pacing the room and impatiently rubbing her wedding ring. The food she'd chosen was equally simple and uncomplicated. When she'd tried to think of something "sexy" to eat the only idea that came to mind was feeding him. Therefore she'd asked for a selection of finger-foods and Chef had produced platters of fine cheeses, French breads, smoked salmon rolls, King Prawns, home made dips and sauces and mouth watering fresh fruits and salads. She hadn't eaten all day and was surprised to find she was tempted to start picking at the food then and there; instead she poured herself a second glass of wine and watched the clock.

It was 7:50 before she heard the outer door close and heavy footsteps moving across the room towards her.

Standing quickly and positioning herself in front of the fire she waited and stared at the door. In a second the double doors opened and finally there he was.

"Hello." She said nervously, though trying not to appear nervous.

"Hello dear. You look…" He breathed deeply; she noted his eyes travelled down her body taking in the dress, the stockings, the shoes then back up to her face, his eyes dark and irresistible.

"Thank you." She smiled warmly. "How was your little trip?"

"Hard work." He said gruffly stepping into the room and closing the doors. "Clarisse what is all this in aid of, I know I haven't missed anything, anniversary, birthday, special occasion?"

"No, just, to welcome you home." She moved to the table and poured him a glass of wine.

"I've been gone less than forty-eight hours."

"I know." She handed him the glass and lightly kissed his cheek. "But it's the first night apart we've had since we married. Beside I wanted to spoil you, I'm allowed to do that right."

"Yes." He shrugged and sipped his wine gazing about the room at the candles.

"So, are you hungry, come sit." She eagerly moved to the table and pulled a chair back for him.

"Clarisse, darling, I've been travelling non-stop, sleeping in a tent, I need a shower and a change of clothes."

"I don't mind." She watched his face for reaction; saw him mentally stepping back from her. "Please, just eat with me, you can shower after… before dessert."

"I'm not really hungry."

"But I… Chef prepared it specially, please try something, he assured me you'd love this." She lifted a prawn and delicately dipped it into a sauce then holding a napkin in one hand and the fish in the other carried it towards him. "Try it."

He stepped back. "Later."

"Joseph please, you love seafood."

"I do, just not now."

"Just one bite, for me, try it…" She hovered her hand near his mouth, her finger just grazing his lip. She noted him swallow and close his eyes.

"Later, I gotta take a shower." And with that he turned on his heel and exited the room leaving a bemused and rather foolish feeling Clarisse in his wake.

The majority of the candles had long since faded in light and now Clarisse sat alone in the dissonantly lit room. Her shoes abandoned on the floor she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch and stared into the fire, no longer hungry and the effects of her two glasses of wine seemed to have faded altogether. She didn't expect Joseph to return to her, not now, afterall when did his showers last longer than fifteen minutes? In a while she would rise and undress and go to the bedroom to find him already asleep, and in the morning she would wake to find him already up and about. There would be no mention of her efforts the previous night; the uneaten food would remain uneaten, the candles would be thrown away, the fire would have burnt itself out and the dress that she'd chosen so carefully would be tucked away in her closet never to be worn again.

Sighing she closed her eyes and leant her head back on the couch, feeling her hair loosen she ran her hand through it and then traced her fingers down her jaw line before settling her joined hands in her lap.

She felt a sudden tingle and was about to jump up from her relaxed position when she realised it was her husband's hands resting on her shoulders. She kept her eyes closed afraid the contact would break if she looked to him. His hands traced along her shoulders, rubbing at her aching muscles, his index finger trailed up her neck and finally he sank his hands into her hair and massaged her scalp. She relaxed further into the embrace and a barely audible sigh of pleasure escaped her mouth.

The touch stopped and he backed away from her, only now did she open her eyes and twist her head to look at him.

"Joseph?" Her voice was heavy, tired and emotional.

"It's late." He said not even meeting her eye.

"I know that, I've been sitting here waiting for you, or did that escape your notice."

"I'm sorry." He moved past her to the dining table and blew out the tall candles that stood there burning bright. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble, I'm tired…"

Now in virtual darkness she got to her feet and glared at him. "Trouble? Oh Joseph you have no idea how much trouble I went to. Just what has happened to you exactly, when did you become so cold?"

"Clarisse look…"

"No, no, look at me. Acting like some fool over you… dressing up."

"Clarisse, stop."

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" She stared at him, hoping he would reveal some innocent reason for his behaviour of late but the longer she waited the more she realised it wasn't to come.

"No, nothing. Except… goodnight dear."

"Goodnight!" She swung her arms down plucking a cushion from the sofa and squeezing it. "Goodnight…"

"Sweet…"

"Oh go to hell." She threw the cushion at him and stormed across the room. "You can sleep on the damn couch."

And with that it was she who slammed the doors and thus put an end once and for all to the evening of romance.