Chapter Two
It was less than 24 hours later when she heard the familiar sound of someone Apparating into her flat. She wasn't in the best of moods; her case, the one she had been working on with Remus, before he'd gone AWOL for the day anyway, had tumbled over into the Muggle world and she'd had to wear these ridiculous clothes as a consequence.
Undercover work required a disguise, and this one couldn't have been more convincing. The makeup on her face felt stiff and itchy and her fashionable high heeled boots were completely foreign to her. How these women coped, poured into these skin tight jeans and small, flimsy tops, she would never know. But apparently this was how a 'girl about town' would dress, and for today only she had been a rich, confident woman with the world at her feet. Not a crushed and hopeless basket case with a severe case of unrequited love and the humiliation of rejection resting on her shoulders. Perhaps it was a good thing, if it had kept the gloom away.
Maybe there would be no harm in continuing this charade a little longer? After all, the case wasn't closed, there were loose ends to tie up and a bit more investigative research wouldn't go amiss.
So it was that she had grabbed her hand bag, Mulberry of course, and made for the front door when she heard the noise.
She'd turned in surprise, surprise which had quickly become panic when she'd seen Remus in the middle of her living room. So here he was, to finish the job. She'd hoped he would just stay away and wondered how the hell she would manage to hear those words of rejection out loud, especially when she felt so unlike herself.
But conversations rarely go the way you expect.
"Hermione? What on earth have you done to yourself?"
He was gazing at her in wonder, but it wasn't the same gaze she'd become accustomed to receiving today. All day she had felt men's eyes on her body and now the one man whose attraction she would actually relish was looking at her with something akin to horror.
"What do you mean what have I don't to myself? I'm 23, Remus. I can dress like I'm 23, can't I?" She couldn't be bothered to explain the real reasons, after all, why should he care, he didn't want her then, he didn't want her now, and she owed him no explanation.
"No! I mean yes but... I... Merlin, Hermione, you look... you look..."
She twirled in front of him, giving him the benefit of a look from every angle.
"What's the matter? Most men I've met today seem to like my outfit. Don't you?"
Her words had come out harsh a brittle and for a second she wondered where the voice had come from, it seemed to unlike her. But then she recognised it as her own.
Perhaps this is how I deal with a broken heart then.
"No."
He was right in front of her now, eyes blazing with something which if she'd had to put a name to it looked like... was it anger?
"No I don't bloody like it."
With a flick of his wand the boots were gone, and before she'd had time to readjust, her arm was caught in his grasp and he was dragging her towards her bathroom.
"I don't like the boots."
As he ran a flannel under the tap.
"I don't like the trousers."
As he pinned her against the wall.
"And I don't like the makeup."
As he scrubbed at her face, wiping every last trace of the 'someone else' she'd managed to be off her skin.
Her face was stinging under his rough touch and his arm was bruising her as it held her against the wall. All the education and facts in the world couldn't help her now with the jumble of thoughts and emotions flying round her head. But the main one was fear...
"Remus..." she panted, as she struggled to move his arm.
"Remus, stop. Stop it, you're hurting me!"
The words did the trick her ineffectual shoves and pushes hadn't managed and he let her go, standing back as she leaned against the bathroom door.
He may have let her go but she couldn't get away from the feral look in his eyes, and something within her began to stir. He was setting her ablaze, even through her fear, and the combination almost made her feel sick. This wasn't what she'd hoped for, or what she'd imagined, she didn't know what this was. Five minutes ago she'd been ready to leave her flat and now she was trapped in a bathroom with a man she loved, a man who seemed to be undergoing some kind of breakdown in front of her.
"Remus, what's going on? What's happened?"
He took a step towards her, slightly less tense but still just as forceful. She shrank back, equal parts confusion and fear and the sight of her flinch brought him up short.
"You asked me if I liked it. I don't."
"Well, I hardly think..."
"Do you want to know what I like, Hermione?"
"Remus, I..."
"I like your hair when it's down."
He stepped towards her again and in her small bathroom that one pace brought him close enough to reach behind her and remove her hair clip.
She bit her lip as he ran his hands through her tumble of curls, trying not to fall into that familiar shiver when his finger caught her cheek.
"No, that's wrong, not like... I love your hair. I love it when it's around your face, or when it's framed by the sun and it shines like the heavens."
His hand rested on her shoulder now and his touch was not altogether steady. For the first time she began to feel the fear subside, it was clear she wasn't the only one slightly off balance this evening. What's more the rough edges he had been sporting had vanished and she knew that, whatever was going on, he wasn't going to hurt her.
"I'll tell you what else I love."
Her heartbeat jumped back up to double time. Love.
"I love the way your skin is so smooth when I touch you. I've wasted so much time not touching you, Hermione."
Oh, Merlin...
His finger touched her face on purpose this time, running down the side of her cheek and along her jaw before his hand cupped her face so gently. All the while he watched her with a look which made her burn and ache.
"I love the way you blush, and I love that I know why you're blushing. I love that I know why you bite your lip when I'm standing behind you, or why you stutter sometimes when you know I'm looking at you."
He stepped closer again and her breath caught in her throat. There was that heat again, that damn heat pouring from him as if he was a flame sent to either warm her or burn her, she wasn't quite sure which.
"I love the fact that you're more beautiful to me than any other woman on earth."
WHAT?
She opened her mouth to protest, he was being absurd now, but of course he knew what she'd say and refused to give her chance to say it.
"No, listen to me. You walked in to my office two years ago and you brought the sunshine with you, and that feeling has never gone away. If anything it's grown stronger. You don't need these clothes..."
He ran his hand down her flimsy top in disdain.
"... and you don't need the heels or the makeup. You're perfect, you're you. I want you, I only want you."
Keep talking... stop talking... kiss me... kiss me... kiss me...
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, running his hand across her stomach as he did so and delighting in the feel of her twitch beneath his touch.
Please...
"And I do want you, Hermione."
She thought about this a million times, how would she react? What would she say? What would she do? How would she handle the situation in such a way as to make sure that he never left her? But now he was here and his presence had never seemed so imposing, he'd never seemed so much like... well... a man. He was all man now, no soft glances or lingering looks, and no gentle brush of hands. He was touching her with purpose now and it felt like heaven with a lot of something not quite as wholesome mixed in.
And she didn't have the first idea what to say, so she blurted the first thing that came into her mind.
"It's for a case, Remus."
His brow furrowed as he looked at her from beneath long lashes.
"What?"
She even let herself give him a tiny smile then, he'd seemed so confident but now she'd thrown him off track slightly and it left her feeling more in control of herself. OK, scrap that, she'd never been less in control of herself, but at least now she didn't feel so lost.
"The clothes, the boots, the makeup, they're all for a case. I hate them."
He'd sighed in relief then, resting his head against hers.
"Oh, thank Merlin. I couldn't stand it. You looked like Dora."
Her name was out in the room before he could stop it and both their gazes had connected at once. Brown eyes met amber and the world stopped turning.
What about your wife?
What about my wife?
She opened her mouth to say the words aloud and he did the only thing he could think of to stop her.