Part 4 by Posh and Stoneygem

The ride home was uneventful. His arm was around her shoulder and her head lay against his chest. It could have been the perfect moment to actually start some 'handiwork', but Clarisse was much too exhausted to even think about it.

It was Shades, who opened the door for them. He didn't say anything, but his short nod gave Joseph the necessary assurance before he helped Clarisse out of the car. The new Chief of Security respectfully bowed to his former monarch and then waited for her to pass him, before he followed the couple inside.

Inside, Charlotte was hurrying out of a hallway into the ballroom, already opening her mouth to explain some new development, but Shades gave her a short wave, after which the aide only bowed as well and wished the couple a good night.

Thus not bothered by anyone, they quickly made their way to their suite. Inside the chambers, Clarisse noted with a relieved sigh that the rooms were only dimly lit, but very well heated. It was still March after all and she wasn't exactly dressed for the temperatures.

Dropping her cape on the backside of the sofa, she arched her upper body to stretch the sore joints, pushing her chest forward. It was a completely unassuming gesture, but mere seconds later she felt her self being pushed against a wall, hands almost roughly covering her breasts and a mouth crushing hers in a bruising kiss.

She responded instantaneously and opened her mouth to his, utter relief and joy flooding through her at the contact. Those months of worry and restraint melted away as she felt his hands roam hungrily over her body. He wanted her, oh god he still wanted her.

She pressed herself into him, welcoming his kisses, his tender caress. He broke this kiss, stroking her lips with his thumb, gazing intently at her.

"Do you realise how beautiful you looked tonight, breath taking…"

She wanted to smile and thank him for the kind words but he kissed her again and she melted into the embrace, arching her back against the wall, feeling his tongue on her neck. He was getting carried away… she was enjoying it.

She felt his hands grip the velvety material of her dress, dragging it up her body. She held her arms up and allowed him to remove it and toss it aside. His mouth touched hers again and she locked her arms around his back.

Then he stopped.

"Clarisse… what are you wearing?"

She looked down at herself, at the overtly sexual lace that clung to her body, that barely covered her, her breasts pushing to be set free against it.

"Oh it was for you, I wanted… maybe it was a little too much."

"A little?" His voice that had previously been so gentle was now harsh and severe.

"Yes, for you. I wanted to show you…"

"I know damn well what you wanted to show me."

"Joseph!"

"No, forget it." He stepped away from her, disentangling himself from her arms.

"Joseph don't, please, it can't look that bad…"

He stopped and stared at her for a second, open mouthed, taking in the shock on her face, her deep heavy breathing lifting her chest.

"Please, I wanted you to want me."

"God Clarisse you think you have to dress like that for me to want you? Then you really don't know me at all." He headed for their bedroom door and she quickly followed him into the chamber.

"It was a treat, a surprise, I wanted to be attractive for you so you didn't have to look elsewhere… I… oh…"

"What!" He roared throwing his jacket to the floor. "Look elsewhere… because that's what men do right Clarisse, married men fuck other woman."

"Please don't speak to me like that."

"How the hell do you want me to speak to you!"

She backed up away from him, her body meeting the cool wall. Still he approached her, his face, she'd never seen him so angry. Unconsciously she dug her nails into her palms waiting for his final outburst.

"I am not Rupert."

"I never said…"

"I am NOT him, I would never do that to you. What kind of man do you take me for!" His voice bellowed around her and she pressed herself back even further, raising a hand to her chest protectively.

"Clarisse," he took hold of her wrist and lowered her hand. "I'm not him, I would never raise a hand to you."

His last words were gentle, and for a moment she thought the anger had passed then he abruptly let go of her hand and, grabbing his pillow, left the room slamming the door after him.

Shivering she stood alone, still gasping for air, still hearing his words in her mind. He knew… how did he know Rupert had ever… nobody knew. She never told a soul.

After a few seconds she took a few shaky steps to the bed and sank down into it. Functioning through sheer will alone she removed her shoes and stockings then pulled the flimsy material from her body and in fury threw it across the room.

The tears stung her face, her eyes were hot and sore and as she furiously wiped at them it only increased the friction on her delicate skin. She should really remove her make-up, clean herself up, but sheer exhaustion took over and instead she merely went to the adjoining bathroom to remove the silly exotic underwear and replace it with something more sensible. Joseph's pyjama shirt.

She turned the lamps off and stood by the bedroom door turning over in her mind whether she should attempt to find him and apologise. In the end she was too afraid of his reaction so simply climbed into bed. Her mind was spinning, twisting over the events of the evening. Those gossips at the opera, the feel of his warm supportive grasp on her hands as she cried, the silent but exquisite drive home, the kisses in the lounge and the shouting in the bedroom. When had she got it so wrong? When had she begun to lose sight of herself and act like a fool?

No more sexy outfits, no more alluring underwear. She was back to being plain old Clarisse, dull and lifeless, that was after all what he married. If he didn't wish to make love to her anymore that was fine, it was good while it lasted. Something's were worth more, her self respect for one.

It was exhaustion rather than a relaxed state of mind that forced her to sleep.

Two hours later she stirred at a noise, before she turned in bed she felt it dip at one side and somebody climb in next to her. She recognised his smell and tensed immediately, suddenly wide-awake.

His body came into contact with her back, his foot touching hers. She was shaking, why the hell was she shaking? His hand slowly slid over her stomach, pulling her closer to him, they fit together so perfectly. She felt his breath on her neck; his lips tenderly sweep over her skin.

"I love you." He whispered and she closed her eyes, a mix of rejoice and tearful heartbreak swooping over her. Her stomach jolted, her heartbeat increased.

She never replied, the moment was perfect as it was, any more words would have broken it. And she wanted to remember that moment for as long as she lived. Just as it was.