I WOULD LIKE TO SAY BIG THANK YOU TO KITTIE DARKHART FOR PROOFREADING THIS CHAPTER! It's an important one so I wanted it to be great at least as it comes to style! J
HAVE A NICE READ!
Rachel and Frank were standing in the living room in complete silence, just staring at each other, as neither were sure of what to say. Before the continued silence became awkward, however, Frank broke it by asking:
- So...what can I get you to drink?
That was, perhaps, the most obvious way to start the conversation, but at least it was some start. It has also reminded him of their first-ever conversation, some two years ago.
Rachel nodded and surprised Frank with an answer:
- Yeah, can I have a cup of tea? - Her face brightened up lightly when she saw him raise his eyebrows. Indeed, he was very surprised. Rachel Marron, in his house, asking for a tea?
- Straight? - He smirked and both of them felt relieved that the heavy air between them started to clear.
- Yes, I've had a drink tonight already, and I just don't want to have another one. Besides, I guess I would only find orange juice here...
As soon as she said that it was obvious to Frank that she started to relax a little. She looked quite tired, even though not a bit less gorgeous. She was the same girl he knew, but a bit more mature, sophisticated version of herself from a year ago. And now that she didn't have one of her stage costumes on, with just a tiny bit of make-up, with no camera or crowds in sight she seemed to lack the confidence that the whole world was sure she had. That was THE Rachel that Frank loved the most, though. It was HIS girl he took out to see an old movie, with whom he danced slowly and kissed breathlessly by the pool. Not an arrogant, intimidating diva as she sometimes became, even though Frank secretly enjoyed that side of her, too.
- So, I can see that Sy is still working for you? He wasn't very happy to see me… - Frank returned with a smile as he sat on the couch.
- Yes, I know what you think...He is a jerk, I realise that, but the fact is that he is damned good at what he does...and I can't lose him because his boyfriend is now my hairdresser, and he is the best one I've ever had, so you understand... - She smiled at him and Frank was in awe again of just how beautiful her smile was.
- Yeah – He smiled back – I'd always suspected that Sy was gay. He was the only one from all the people surrounding you who wasn't in love with you. – His comment was supposed to sound light or even jokingly kind, but somehow the atmosphere thickened. He was, in fact, one of those people who was in love with her, just one of many.
Rachel could feel the heaviness between them; however, she didn't know the reason for it. She had no idea of the extent of her ex-bodyguard's feelings for her. She was never sure whether he really loved her, had a crush on her, or just found her physically attractive. It was one of the things she wanted to talk to him about, but the time wasn't yet right for that.
- Come on, you seriously don't suspect Bill of being in love with me? Besides, they only love me because I'm rich, successful, and beautiful – she said bitterly. – As soon as I have my first flop those people will leave me for their next best client, especially Sy. And I'll stop being attractive for everyone when my first wrinkle shows up...which is pretty soon. I'm 30 years old and already have younger, fresher rivals.
- That's why I don't work in show business...I already have wrinkles. – The bodyguard smiled and Rachel laughed out loud. Frank enjoyed the sound and wished it could last longer.
She was sitting next to him on the couch now, but kept her distance, and Frank was grateful for that. Being so close to her was hard enough; he was afraid he would do something stupid if she got just a tiny bit closer. He could still smell the delicate scent of her perfume, though; he always liked it very much. It was very Rachel—sweet, floral, and fresh, with a faint hint of vanilla. He remembered that smell from when he kissed her neck and body last time, and the thought of it now began to drive him crazy. The blood started to rush south and that was the last thing he wanted right now. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to avoid looking in her eyes for a moment, thinking of something that wouldn't be Rachel-related.
- So...how have you been doing, Frank? I can see your arm is good now – the singer asked as she stood up, which both surprised and intrigued him a little. She went to his memorabilia wall and noticed that nothing had changed—no new pictures. She didn't know what she expected to see, but she felt disappointed somehow.
Frank didn't want to lie, nor did he want to tell her the truth that he wasn't good at all. She noticed the Samurai sword and smiled. For a moment, she was tempted to take it off the wall, but decided against it and sat on the couch again, just a tiny bit closer to him than before.
He noticed that.
- When I quit show business, I became a bodyguard for this politician, not a big fish like before, but I needed a quiet job after you – He smiled. – And tell me, how is Fletcher?
- He's good – Her face brightened at the sound of her son's name. – He's missed you terribly, though...He always saw you as a father-figure. A father, he never had. - she added quietly.
Frank swallowed hard. She'd once again managed to move him, and before he knew it – even though it was not his style to pry – he asked:
- What happened to his father?
- Well, Fletcher doesn't really know him. I'm not sure I'd like him to know him. We were kids when I got pregnant; it was few years before I became famous. As soon as he found out that I was expecting his child, he left me. He even wanted me to have an abortion, but I'm so happy that I didn't listen to him... - Her breathing was heavy now; she was clearly shaken. Frank wanted to take her into his arms and hug her, but knew how risky such would be - Of course, as soon as I became rich and famous, loving daddy showed up trying to 'make up' to his son for those lost years – She shrugged – but I didn't believe it. Fletcher was four years old then and I didn't want to mess with his head. They've met – but I could clearly see what it was about – my money. He was hardly paying him any attention, instead complimenting me all the time and trying to make me love him again. Of course, he was out of luck this time – She exhaled – I seriously I couldn't care less about him. I said to him that I'm no longer interested in him as I have someone special in my life right now.
Frank didn't like that part. It was many years ago, before he had even met her, so why did it bother him? Heck, he shouldn't even be jealous about her current boyfriend, that one at the party; he had no rights to her.
- Did he ever show up again? - he asked.
- No, he didn't. Not once. You see – it's show business. You never know who cares about you really and who just cares about the money you have. In my world, people are usually a very good actors...
- Just like yourself – he reminded her – You won the Oscar last year.
- Yeah, the Oscar...I don't like to think about those moments...Nikki had just died and you...I really thought that you were dying! I was never that scared in my life. You took that bullet for me...and I...I seriously didn't know what to do with myself then.
Frank was shocked by her sincerity. Although always more spontaneous than him, Rachel could sing about one's emotions beautifully, but was never quick to speak about them. When he looked in her eyes, he saw her pain and reliving those tragic moments. He couldn't stop looking at her, feeling that he was about to lose his usual control. He hated himself for this, but needed to know the answer to one question. A question, he asked himself about every day since the event at the Oscars.
- Rachel...I only wonder about one thing...uhmm...You know the guy I killed, your would-be assassin...
- Portman? - she replied.
- Yeah...I wonder why he hit at the Oscars...I mean, he had a great opportunity to kill you with less risk when you...you...went to the room with him then, in Miami... - He wasn't looking at her, but she was, with her eyes wide open. She didn't think he would remember that incident.
- Maybe because he didn't expect such a quick end of that evening with me. Apparently he was hoping for something more than what he got...
Frank raised his eyes at her and his face, although still not showing any emotion, softened a little.
- I saw you going into that room with him – he said, his tone slightly accusing.
- Did you see him leaving after few minutes?– she asked. – Maybe if you were standing by the doors, like you should have been, you'd had the pleasure, not Tony, of kicking him out of that room!
- Rachel, was I suppose to stand in front of the doors of the room you went in with my former colleague, that womanising bastard, and listen to you two making love through those doors? - Frank's voice was hardly calm now. The thought of Portman's hands all over her body drove him insane then and still was now, after all this time.
- Well, nothing happened. I just...couldn't do it, Frank. All I wanted was to make you jealous... It was so childish, I admit, and it didn't even work – she nearly whispered like she was ashamed to admit it.
The bodyguard hesitated for a moment, but she was so honest with him that he must have had only the truth for her. He was also very happy and grateful that she didn't sleep with Portman.
- I was, Rachel...you have no idea. That's why I didn't see him leaving. I had to go to the balcony; I couldn't keep staring at those doors and imagining what you two were doing in there – His openess surprised even him and left Rachel virtually speechless, with her mouth open and dark eyes wide. She looked very sensual, and Frank was very tired of fighting the temptation to simply kiss her. But he didn't give in—not just yet.
- Why, Frank? - she asked quietly, moving closer to him. – Why were you jealous? I thought you never cared enough about me to be jealous. I bet you didn't miss me the way I missed you when you left – she whispered just few millimeters away from his face. Frank's breath quickened; butterflies in his stomach were going mad and all the blood was in his lower body right now. Unable to free himself from his overwhelming desire, he took the last effort to stop himself though as she expected an answer from him. He needed to give her the true one—she deserved it—even though he knew it might cause them further heartache and—unpredictable as she was—she could use it against him tomorrow.
- Rachel...I've missed you every day since we last saw each other. I guess...I suppose I just really fell for you, despite of my voice of reason and discipline...
That was enough for Rachel. She leaned forward to kiss him; and when their lips met, Frank knew that whatever he promised himself, and all that damned discipline, were nothing that ever really mattered. He knew he wasn't able to resist her. His whole body was on fire, and their kiss became very passionate—mind-blowing for both of them. Frank, still kissing her wildly, lifted her from the couch and moved towards the bedroom, but the heat was just too strong, they never made it there. The carpet in the living room was comfortable enough; although even if they lay on the cold stones tiles, neither would notice the difference. It was obvious just how much they'd missed each other—both of them couldn't get enough of one another; their clothes burning—they had to take them off as fast as they could. Frank remembered every detail of the only night they'd spent together—how beautiful she looked naked; how wonderfully her perfume smelled on her; how exciting it was to touch her, and how undeniably steamy those moments had been.
Now, though, passion was just an addition to something much more profound—their shared moments of pain, joy, and work; their longing for each other that never subsided as time went by; finally, their love for each other that both wanted to fight but simply couldn't. Frank lost his head for this one woman completely—in that very moment he didn't care what would happen in the morning, what her boyfriend would say about this, or whether she would break his heart again. Tonight was one of those moments that was worth living for.
When the atmosphere cooled down a bit he took her hand in his, looked in her eyes and kissed her again. He then surprised her when he stood up and then lifted her, in a similar way like when he was taking her out of that club, where people nearly tore her apart.
- We have to make it to the bedroom at some point – He smiled at her and she smiled back at him.
They were lying in his bed in complete silence, his arm wrapped around her, her face buried in his chest. It felt so good, being near her again, and Frank started to fall asleep. Before he could, though, Rachel whispered in his ear:
- Frank...I have to ask you one thing...Be honest please...do you...do you regret what just happened? Would you prefer it didn't?
The bodyguard contemplated the question for a while; he wanted to make sure to only tell her the truth.
- Rachel...no other woman before you has had such an influence on me like you have. Nobody can bring emotions out of me like you do, both good and bad. I beat up an innocent guy for you out there, in Miami! See, it's complicated...I want it and I'm afraid of it. It's not simple, you know? I can tell you honestly what I feel at the moment—no, I don't regret it. Will tomorrow morning change anything? I don't know. You don't know yourself. I guess we have to go to sleep and see.
Rachel nodded. She knew he was right. When Frank began to slowly fall asleep, Rachel's thoughts were running. What if, in the morning, everything looks different than now? What if it's just passion that will fade away quickly or even tomorrow? What if tomorrow morning will look exactly the same like last time? Obviously Frank was no longer her bodyguard, but still... What if he doesn't love me; what if it was just desire? He said he fell for me, but is this love? What if I feel differently in the morning? Could we make it work somehow? Would he want that?
Rachel got tired of 'what if's' and started to fall asleep. She kissed her naked ex-bodyguard on his arm and moved closer to him. Tomorrow, everything would be clear.
The last thought before she fell asleep was that neither of them thought about protection...