Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews – I would be inclined to agree, I'd let Ray see too. And I think you probably know whether or not Neela does! Okay, no more suspense and cliffhangers, here's the chapter you've been waiting for. I must learn to write smutty scenes with less build up! Hope you enjoy, and please review. Oh, and rating warning: definitely M.

(And just to answer the anonymous review, and for everyone who was wondering really, yes, I know henna tattoos are only really for hands and feet, indeed, the National Geographic article that this idea stemmed from did say that. However, I have read in another magazine – no idea what, so don't ask! – about, someone, somewhere, who wrote about getting a more whole body (I don't mean literally by the way – I agree, that would be rather odd) one, hands, feet, belly, breasts etc much as Neela has here, so rare though it is, not impossible. And even if the idea was plucked out of thin air… well, it's a story; a bit of poetic license never hurt anyone.)

Neela met his eyes, trying to work out what he was asking. She didn't know what to do. The tattoos were meant to be for Michael, for her husband, but she suddenly found herself wanting to show Ray. She wanted him to see her, she wanted those unfathomable eyes to follow the patterns on her hands and feet up her arms and legs to the other places she had been painted. She wanted his lips to follow the path of his eyes.

She couldn't though let him though, could she? What about Michael? Just because he wasn't home now, that didn't mean he wouldn't be home soon. He was her husband, she'd vowed to love him, and only him. And she'd meant it, she'd meant it when she'd said it in their wedding ceremony, and she'd meant it every day since he'd been gone, when she'd repeated it just to remind herself that the whole whirlwind wedding and idyllic honeymoon hadn't been a dream.

But… Michael wasn't here, however much she wanted him to be. He had persuaded her to marry him, tied her to him forever, then run off and left her. Oh yes, he was doing his duty and serving his country, she thought bitterly, but what about her? It wasn't her duty or her country. She didn't even believe, if she was honest, in what he was doing out there. She supported him of course, but not what was happening in Iraq. She couldn't.

War was a possessive mistress, and Neela had never much liked sharing her husband with it. While there was an end to it in sight, she had put up with it, knowing it was important to him, but she realised now, it sank in in a way that it hadn't before, that it would always be like this. He would leave, she would scrape and survive through an indeterminate number of months of loneliness, then he would say he was coming home, but there would always be some excuse, some other battle or war, and she'd be let down, her heart would be broken once again.

Could she really live her whole life like that? Alone but not free, longing for him to come home but knowing that even when he did, he'd leave again. And worst, the constant spectre of his possible death hanging over her. Could she do that? When all the time Ray was here, a reminder of what she could have, if only she could put aside her pride and admit her mistake. She'd always wonder, if she didn't take this opportunity now. It was wrong, but right then, not giving in to what she wanted, him, seemed more wrong.

Very slowly, feeling a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks at the thought of what she was about to do, she stood up and turned so she was facing him. Then her hands went to the knot of the robe, and began to undo it, fumbling a little thanks to her trembling hands. Once it was loosened, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her clothing fall away from her. And waited.

Ray felt the breath freeze in his throat when the robe hit the floor. He didn't know if he should say something, or what he should say, or even if he was able to. She was just… He was speechless. He didn't know what he was more enthralled by, the sight of her body, slim, exotically dark, perfect, or the lines dancing across it, swirls, dots, flowers, all placed well to highlight her every curve, accentuate every feature.

Determined to take in every part of it, of her, he took the time to properly look at her before he did anything else. He wasn't capable of doing much else yet anyway, he felt like every bone in his body had disappeared and a brief glance at his hands told her they were shaking, just as hers were. His gaze, hot and intense, began at her feet, heavily painted, then travelled slowly up her shapely legs, another design painted on her lower belly, up to her narrow waist, higher, and a vague outline of ribs under her skin, stomach muscles clenched in nerves. Her breasts had been partially painted as well, and he paused for a moment to think of her lying on some couch somewhere, bare as she was now, and at that, he felt the first stirrings of desire that he had been in too much shock to feel until now. As his gaze travelled up her throat, he saw the skin there move a little as she swallowed nervously. He knew she was waiting for him to do or say something, but he wasn't quite done yet. Finally, he lifted his gaze those last few inches and met a pair of beautiful, chocolate eyes that he decided was very best part of her. Tonight, they were warm, welcoming, and he was surprised, but unbelievably happy, to see love there. If Gallant was a fool enough to leave her, he didn't deserve her in the first place.

'You're beautiful,' he said steadily, his voice stronger now. 'I've never seen anything more beautiful.'

He wanted to tell her more than that. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't been her shoulder to cry on all this time simply because he had nothing better to do, or that he pitied her, or anything like that. He had taken care of her, looked after her and made her smile, held her as she cried, because she was the best friend he had ever had. He never would have guessed it, when he first offered her a room, but over the last two years, she had permeated every aspect of his life, and made it so much better. He would never have strived, in the way that he had, to be a better doctor, a better person, had it not been for her influence.

And now that slow slide of friendship had ended in this.

Love.

For that was what this was, he suddenly knew. If he'd come to that realisation even only a few minutes ago, he would have been sure that he was too late. Now though, now he wasn't. Now she was standing before him, not her husband, him, naked and stunningly, exquisitely beautiful. Even if this was only for tonight, which he hoped fervently it wasn't, then he felt like the memory would be enough to live off forever. And he intended to make it a night to remember.

Sliding off the bed, he moved so he was kneeling on the thin carpet in front of her. He looked up at her, and finally his face cracked into a smile. Encouraged, and more sure of his intentions, Neela smiled back.

'Thank you,' she said, in reply to his compliment. 'So are you.' And he was. Beautiful, caring, just a little dangerous and yet utterly trustworthy at the same time. He was everything she never realised she was looking for, until now she had found it in him.

She reached out a hand to caress his cheek, and for a minute, he leaned into her touch, the skin of her painted fingers softer than he had imagined it to be. Before he got carried away though, he stopped himself. This wasn't about him, tonight was all for her. Tonight he was going to love and cherish her like she deserved to be.

Bending forward, he began to kiss her foot, on the inside of the ankle where a minute butterfly was flapping its wings. It was a slow, sensual kiss and if it had been on her lips, she thought she might have died from the pleasure of it. As it was, she wasn't far off. She felt his tongue dart out of his mouth to tease her skin, soon followed by a gentle nip with his teeth. Her breath quickened a touch, then even more so when she felt him begin to move up her leg. Her legs here not fully painted, but just enough lines swirled upwards to give him a path to follow along the inside of her calf.

'Ray,' she breathed, and felt his lips curl into a smile against her skin as he caressed it.

By the time he had reached her knee, her eyes had slid shut in ecstasy and her chest, still sinfully bare, was rising and falling at speed as the sensations he sparked began to burn through her body. Then he slid higher still, and the hands that had been lying on his shoulders, nails resting gently on the material of his t-shirt, moved up and along his scalp, fisting in his hair, nails digging in and pulling a little harder at his hair than she should have done, as she fought to maintain control.

He was at the top of her thigh when her head tipped back and he felt her begin to wobble, her legs no longer capable of supporting her. He snaked his hands upwards to hold her firmly around her waist, doing his best to hold her up, and Neela moved her hands back to his shoulders to help her balance, knowing what was coming next.

Then she felt his tongue, tracing lazy circles around her very centre, and she couldn't help but cry his name. 'Ray, oh God,' she gasped, louder than she had intended to. 'Oh, ohh,' was all she could manage as tongue and teeth and lips worked together to drive her beyond all vestiges of reason.

The pleasure was far too much though, and as that flood of warmth began to pool in the pit of her stomach she felt her legs begin to weaken even more. His hands holding her up were not enough, and she knew with one more thrust of his tongue, she would be sure to fall to the floor.

'Ray, I can't…' she began, which she hoped would be enough by way of explanation. It was as much as she could muster right then.

Fortunately, he understood, and pulled away from her, rising to his feet. Before he did anything more, he dipped his head to kiss her properly, lips on lips for the first time, and it took both their breaths away. She could taste herself in his mouth, and she groaned desperately as she thought of what his tongue, now oh so innocently caressing her palate, had been doing just moments ago.

Ray heard the guttural noise deep in her throat as he kissed her, and it added to his arousal. He wouldn't have expected Neela to make a sound so raw, so overtly passionate, but it sounded so deliciously right, and he was thrilled that it was him who made her moan like that. And that was just the beginning.

Breaking away from the kiss, even though it pained him beyond words to do so, he tenderly put his arms around her and picked her up, carrying her the few steps back to the bed and laying her down on it as carefully as he would an infant or a precious china doll. She reached out to him to pull him down to her, but with one hand, he tugged his t-shirt out of her grasp and took a step backwards.

Never once taking his eyes off her, intent on watching her watch him, Ray shed his clothes quickly and entirely without shame. This was not a night in which to think or worry or reflect on what they were doing, the implications for their friendship and the consequences for her marriage. Recriminations, and he was quite certain there would be plenty, could come later. There was no room for them right then, and they both seemed to sense that without having to say.

In fact, there was the very real risk that after tonight, things would be so ruined between them that they wouldn't even be able to salvage a friendship from the complications and tortuous twists. It was a risk worth taking though, because the potential prize was enormous. What bigger prize was there than love?

He lay on the bed beside her, but she had soon pulled him on top of her, kissing him with a desperate fervour that, again, he hadn't thought her capable of. He was trying to kiss her lips, but she was everywhere, from his jaw back to below his ear, down his throat and across his chest to flick a nipple precisely with her tongue. This time it was his turn to groan, and he buried his head into the crook of her neck, hiding his face in her hair, not keen for her to see so clearly just what she was doing to him.

'Ray,' she whispered. 'Look at me. I want to see you.'

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. Immediately, he felt like he was drowning in the emotion he found there. Souls were laid bare, and now there was no going back.

She ran her painted hands up his chest and over his shoulders, raking her nails gently down his back, revelling in the feel of his muscles, more defined than she had somehow expected, playing under his skin. He groaned quietly again at her touch, and the idea that she, not some empty headed, nameless bimbo that she had heard him with too many times, was doing that to him excited her beyond words.

His head had dipped down again, and she found herself arching towards his lean body as he kissed her throat, down, and to her breast. Carefully, diligently, he followed a particular swirl across her skin, nipping her gently every inch or so, gradually drawing a line closer and closer to her nipple. She clutched at the bedsheet tightly. She needed to grab something and she was worried that if she held him, her nails would be sure to draw blood. Then he had reached the centre of his circle and his mouth closed around her nipple. At first, he just held it there, which was enough to make her moan and writhe beneath him, then, with an agonising slowness that had her begging him for more, he began to roll his tongue around it, sucking gently, then harder, adding a brief graze with his teeth to her pain.

'Ray, please, I need you.' Her desire for him had grown so high it was no less than a physical pain now, a burning ache that only he could soothe. She didn't think she'd ever wanted someone so much before, and for so many reasons. This wasn't just going to be sex, or even love; it was a connection on a much higher plane than that, and it was driving her near to the edge without him even touching her then. And from the way she could feel him, pressing hard against her thigh as he lay over her, she knew he must be feeling the same way.

He'd been intending to take longer about it, to really make her feel as loved and as cherished as he thought she deserved, but with her husky plea in his ear, it was all he could do to sustain himself right then. There would be no more waiting though. Holding himself up so he could look at her, he felt as the silky smooth insides of her legs slipped up his own to lock around his waist, and that was it.

He slid into her, her name escaping from his lips as he did so. Eyes both open and locked together, they stayed like that for a long moment, Neela already gasping in pleasure at the sensation of him inside her. Then, as slowly and precisely as he had done everything, he began to move within her, a gentle thrust to start, then, drawn deeper within her by the movements of her body beneath him, around him, he kept pace with her, trying to fulfil her moaned demands of faster and harder.

'Neela,' he groaned again, his voice raw. 'I love you.'

Neela saw his eyes change as the words slipped from his mouth. A flicker of fear entered them, as if he was afraid of her reaction. He needn't have been. She brought one of her hands up to stroke his cheek, and was about to say something through her own gasps and moans of pleasure, when she felt the burning heat that had been building in her rise up, and she arched into him, eyelids finally fluttering closed against her will.

'Ray, Ray…' she cried, her head tipped back into the pillow and her hips grinding in a quickening rhythm against his own. Then with one more thrust, her whole world imploded and the waves of ecstasy hit her, more intense than she had ever felt before, and she clung to him tightly, desperately, as if she never wanted to let him go. Just when she thought the pleasure couldn't be any better, it increased when she felt him come deep inside her, and they moved together with a natural grace, tongues dancing together in kiss to match the dance of their entwined bodies.

Finally, spent, they fell apart, utterly breathless and lost for words. Already feeling cold and empty without his touch, Neela moved herself back into his arms, and he obliged instantly, holding her against his chest where she could feel his heart still beating furiously. She gazed up at him with deep brown eyes, drinking in the look of love on his face.

She reached up to kiss him lingeringly. In the seconds before their lips collided all over again, she found her voice and the words she had been looking for, perhaps for months.

'I love you,' she whispered.

He froze, stunned, for a moment, then a smile spread across his face and before she knew it, in one fluid movement, he had flipped her onto her back once more, and was already trailing a new line of kisses from her lips to her jaw, down her throat and across her body all over again.

'Good,' he replied, his voice muffled into her skin. 'Because I'm never going to let you go.'

When, a very long time later, she lay in his arms once more, sated at last, with aching limbs and Ray's heavy, sleeping breaths tickling the skin of her shoulder, Neela felt her lips curl into a smile.

Maybe the wedding gift hadn't been such a waste after all.