Mixed Signals

Part 9 by Posh and Stoneygem

This chapter contains adult content and has been 'cut' for this site. If you would like too read the un-cut version please email me & I will send it to you. Thanks xx Rhonda (Posh)

Clarisse sat up in bed abruptly, glancing to her left she noted that Joseph's side of the bed was crumpled, he'd slept with her, she didn't remember it. Running her hand through her hair she fought to recall what had happened the previous evening, nothing made sense, and her head ached so much.

"Good morning."

She glanced over to the door where Joseph stood; he was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit.

"I was just about to wake you, I ordered Tea and a little breakfast for you, we have to leave in under two hours."

She shook her head. "Leave for what?"

"European Agriculture Union, the Winter Palace, why do you think I'm dressed like this?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps you wanted to make an impression…"

He stepped closer to he bed. "I don't wish to argue with you this morning."

She allowed herself to glance up at him, the mark where she had hit him was still visible, she closed her eyes again.

"Please." He said gently resting his hand on her forehead. "We can't avoid this, too many dignitaries, too many eagle eyes… we are the host nation."

"I'm well aware of that." Her eyes snapped open and she finally sat up pushing his hand away. "I'm not hungry so you can cancel breakfast and I'd appreciate a little privacy whilst I shower and dress."

"Of course your majesty." He bowed extravagantly before exiting the bedroom and closing the doors.

Clarisse stared after him, or better stared at the closed door for quite some time. Her mind was still numb and she felt a headache forming instantly just behind her temples. Too much crying did that to her.

Then his words registered fully. The Agriculture Union. Host country. The Winter palace. And Mia on her official tour of the Benelux-countries. She had to do the honours. And she had less then two hours to make herself presentable enough to hide the fact that she had had a - oh goodness - a bout of hysteria the night before. And she would have to act as if nothing was wrong, as if their marriage was absolutely perfect.

He would be there!

She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head as the enormity of the situation hit. She would have to put on the show of her life today. With a weary sigh, Clarisse dragged herself out of bed. If she had to put on an award-winning performance, she better make sure that she looked perfect for it.

The shower was the easy part, even though she had to turn on the cold water to chase the numbness away. Her hair was easily done. The make-up turned out to be some work, but nothing compared to choosing the appropriate outfit. Years of experience had taught Clarisse just how much people judged the situation for the clothes she wore, from the colours she wore. Recalling the black disaster a few days ago, she quickly decided on a lighter colour.

Dressed in a simple pale powder pink dress and a matching jacket she eyed herself in the mirror. With her heels on she stood tall and elegant, the picture of elegance and cool, calm composed, inside she was falling apart. How could she possibly stand next to him all day and remain that picture of calmness, a happy wife, when her heart was breaking?

Dwelling on this for too long helped none and she was torn from her reverie by a light tap on the door.

"Yes?"

Joseph pushed the door opened and smiled gently at her. "You look wonderful."

"Please don't, we have to be civil today, that's all."

"Are we ever going to sit down and talk about this properly? Are you ever going to grant me the courtesy of hearing my side of the story?"

"There is nothing you could say that would change my mind…"

"What?"

She marched past him, he followed wanting to continue the conversation but she had exited the room and was quickly making her way down the corridor. She didn't even take a coat, he rushed back to her closet and chose a long white coat, it would have to do.

She was in the foyer chatting to Charlotte when he approached; she glanced over at him noting the coat over his arm.

"You never told me it had snowed." She said sharply to him.

"Erm it still is your majesty, we could cancel…" Charlotte said hopefully.

"Absolutely not, come on Joseph, we mustn't be late."

He stood behind her holding her coat and helping her into it, how the hell was he supposed to deal with this today? It was the first time he'd ever attended one of these events as her husband… and today of all days she hated him, thought he had lied to her and deceived her. His heart ached; he couldn't escape that feeling of emptiness, of blackness enveloping him. And yet somehow he was still so damned angry with her, that she could suspect such a thing, that she could spy on him and convince herself of his guilt without even talking to him… as if she wanted to believe it. Always so bloody self-righteous.

She snapped her heels on the marble floor and he slowly followed her outside. The wind was the first thing he noticed, icy cold, the snow was still light although the covering on the ground was getting deep. The drive had been cleared though, they should be okay, it was a short drive to the Winter Castle, one they'd made many times before. He nodded to Shades then climbed in the backseat next to her.

For a while they simply sat in silence, she stared directly ahead, he gazed out the window at the landscape of white surrounding them. The snow was getting heavier, showering down upon them.

"What did you mean, nothing I could say would change your mind, change your mind over what?"

"I don't want to discuss this now."

"Well I do, and I'm in this marriage too."

"A fact you seem to conveniently forget when you're entertaining Ms. De Marcos."

"Anna is a friend."

"Oh I'm sure she is…" she removed her gloves and folded them in her lap. "And just what does your 'friend' actually do for you?" She allowed herself a cold glance at his face. "Hmm, what is it that I got so wrong, please inform me."

"This is ridiculous."

"Is it? I'm not so sure, I mean perhaps if you'd told me exactly what you wanted I could have performed it. I know I'm not as young and agile as she is but…"

"Clarisse!" He raised his voice. "I'm sick to death of this, it stops now!"

She twisted to face him. "You wanted to discuss this. Or is it too embarrassing, do you not wish to discuss our sorry sex life."

"I said stop! This isn't you, you don't behave like this."

"How would you know? You've been too busy getting laid elsewhere."

He grabbed her wrist, raising her arm. "I don't care who you are, you don't talk to me like that."

"Let go of my arm…" She pulled in his tight grasp, feeling her skin squeeze in his fingers. "Let go of me… Joseph…" Her voice suddenly altered, taking on a lower, fearful tone.

His grip loosened but he still held her "I would never hurt you."

"You already have."

"Not purposefully, never,"

She yanked her arm from him and moved across the seat putting some distance between them. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'm weak."

"I never said you were… god Clarisse I can't keep doing this, stop measuring me up against Rupert, I'm not him, all right I'm not him. How can this marriage work if you keep comparing us… waiting for me to attack every time we have an argument."

"We don't have a marriage."

"Yes we do, and I won't let it go."

"You have no choice… and you've treated me far worse than he ever did."

"Oh don't fool yourself, lying back and thinking you're doing it for the country may seem justified in your eyes my dear, to me it's rape."

"How dare you? You have no right!"

"After the things you've said to me I have every right… and I suppose shrinking away from me, like you did last week, like you did just now, isn't a sign of what went on when you argued with him. Don't try and tell me your marriage was fine, no love but fondness, because it's all rubbish."

She reached across and grabbed his jacket, hitting his face. "How dare you, how dare you talk to me like that… you have no idea."

He fought with her, battling to grab her arms and hold her still, he found he was pushing her back on the seat, kneeling on the floor. Finally she stilled, her rage contained, her face was burning, her breathing uneven and forced.

He looked up at her, raised on the seat before him, the long dress she wore had gathered around her thighs and she held onto his hands forcefully, her nails just scratching the skin.

"I want a divorce." She seethed.

"I want you."

"Who do you think will believe that?" She spat. She didn't care, if she hurt him now, she didn't care what she said, what she did, she just wanted to give him something of the pain she was feeling. "Who do…"

She never got any further, for at this moment his mouth was on hers in an almost violent kiss. His lips pressed against hers forcefully, his tongue demanding entrance, while with his hands he still had her wrists in a vicelike grip.

Clarisse struggled against his hands, struggled against the weight of his body covering hers, tried to escape the bruising touch of his mouth. In her open eyes the fury clearly showed, but it was matched in his as well.

She could see the fury in the usually gentle dark depth. Fury and…

Something inside her mind snapped. She still struggled against his hands, she still struggled against the weight of his body, but her lips opened and she drew his tongue in for a fierce and oh so sensual battle.

Suddenly, all she wanted was to crawl inside him, rip his clothes off, scrape her nails over his skin, losing her dress, losing her mind while he moved inside her.

Oh the world was perfect, he was holding her, his heart was beating against hers and he was inside her and loving her and touching her… after all these months. Her head fell back against the seat and she spread her arms out along the back of it.

Slowly Joseph separated his body from hers and moved to the seat across from her, he watched her half lying there. Her eyes closed, a red flush travelling up from her neck to her face, her body so utterly relaxed, hell he could almost hear the thudding of her heart from where he sat. He quickly tidied and readjusted his clothing.

"I apologise." He said gently.

Her eyes slid open leisurely gazing across at him. Wearily she lifted her head. "Apologise?"

"That wasn't how it should have been, not after all this time." He leant forward to the floor collecting her underwear and grabbing her handbag.

She stared at him blankly, mutely. He rummaged in her bag until he found a pack of tissues and, taking one in his hand, leant forward closer to her body. She never moved as he dabbed her shoulder.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"You didn't."

"You're bleeding." He said indicating her shoulder. "I hurt you."

"No, I wanted it too."

They stared at each other for a second, each taking in the severity of their actions.

"It shouldn't have been that way… you weren't meant for that, it should be about love."

She swallowed, never breaking the eye contact. "Is that why you go to her, is that how you wanted it to be?"

His head dropped and he was silent for a second, then he shook his head desperately. "How many times do we have to do this, huh?"

She turned her head away glancing out the window, condensation had formed on the glass, then she felt his hand touch her shoulder. Grabbing his hand she tore the tissue from him.

"I can clean myself…"

"Fine."

He moved away from her again.

She was grateful that he turned his head as she dressed, she couldn't face his eyes upon her, not now. Opening her handbag she located her compact and dabbed her skin with concealer, placing it along the marks on her neck. Then she brushed her hair and sprayed a little perfume on her skin, it didn't help she still smelt of him, everything smelt of him. Arranging her scarf carefully to conceal the deep red mark at the base of her neck she finally addressed him again.

"Do I look okay, can you see any… thing?"

He glanced up at her, his eyes suddenly looked immensely tired, red and heavy. He rubbed his chin as he stared at her. "You look fine, perfectly…" His shoulders slumped. "God Clarisse I'm so sorry, I'm no better than he was…"

She never had the chance to answer him for the car suddenly jerked forward, she flew across the seat and landed against Joseph's chest, he held her arms as the car swerved on the ice. The entire vehicle seemed to shake and she clung to her husband's arms inches from his face. With a thud they came to a grinding halt and she fell back again, this time with Joseph's body pressed against hers.

"You're alright…" He muttered. He gripped her arms tighter when she didn't answer. "Clarisse, are you alright?"

She nodded, staring at his face, taking in the sheer amount of concern that flitted across it. "Yes, I'm alright."