Chapter Nine
The first day to her working week was busy with several bookkeeping and analysis assignments, taking her concentration to its limit, but she was good at her job, thorough and conscientious.
She finished the day and hurried home, not to be with anyone but to shower and eat her dinner and then wait for Dean to call, which he did from his hotel room, at dead on seven o'clock -- just as he had promised he would.
"This place is a bit of dump," he moaned good naturedly when she asked him.
"Perhaps you should complain to your boss," she suggested archly. "I mean he sends you off to all sorts places, on these important assignments; the least he could do is provide comfortable accommodation."
"I might mention it the next time I talk to him," he mumbled, and she clearly heard his smile. "Now enough about me, how was your day?"
"Oh, my day was much the same as I was expecting. I enjoyed it though."
She curled up on the sofa and they talked for an hour or more, and it was only when her phone buzzed to indicate the low battery that they said their good nights.
It was the same every night. Working in the day and living for evenings when they could make contact with each other and shut out the rest of the world.
Friday came and Shelly thought the day would never end.
But it did.
She did what she had done every other evening, but tonight when they said their goodnights, she knew that she would be seeing him tomorrow.
Their talk was of nothing important but simply about making contact and hearing each other's voice.
"What time will I see you tomorrow?" she asked softly as she prepared to say goodnight to him.
"About... eleven-ish I think, be ready to go out with me."
"Out?" she tried to hide her disappointment, but his knowing chuckle tickled her ear.
"I want you too," he murmured huskily. "Which is why I don't want to come inside; I want us to spend some time together, before we conclude... what we both want."
She swallowed down the brief disappointment, and then smiled at the idea of spending time with Dean.
"I'll be ready and waiting for you," she promised.
*
Shelly spent the morning cleaning her mum's house, going from room to room with the vacuum cleaner, and then finishing with the small box room across from her own bedroom. The room was too small to hold little more than a bed, but the carpet was deep and soft, and at the moment it was empty barring the curtains a wall lamp and the said carpet.
She quickly ran the vacuum cleaner across it and then as she stood admiring the deep red colour, she began to make plans.
*
She did not know where they were going, and so she opted for black jeans with a creamy coloured cashmere jumper, and low-heeled ankle boots.
She heard his car pull up outside and so after grabbing her bag, and slipping into her jacket, she stepped outside to lock up.
"Wait," he instructed as he strode down the path.
She turned to him in surprise but obediently stood waiting.
"You look lovely, Shelly -- as you always do." he muttered huskily.
It was true that she did always look lovely when he saw her, but this morning there was a soft rosy glow about her, that just made him want to hold her.
He bent to kiss her lips and Shelly moved closer eagerly.
"I knew there was a reason why I did not want to come inside." Dean finally said with a rueful twist to his lips.
She felt so soft and her smoky blue eyes were almost begging him to finish what he started.
He laughed lightly and stepped back. "Come on -- I have made some plans for the afternoon and I intend to see them through."
A little thrill of excitement shot through her, at the prospect of a mystery adventure with Dean, and she returned his laugh with one of her own, as he led her to the car and helped her into it.
The day was so full of promise and she was determined to enjoy and savour every little bit of it.
*
He drove with an easy carelessness that had her relaxing against the leather of the seat, and enjoying the light conversation that meant he could keep his concentration on the road but be sociable at the same time. The first part of his plan was not too far away she soon discovered as less than hour later, he drove the car through the wide, open gates, and then down the driveway, where he parked in the visitor's car park.
"You know something," she murmured staring up at the stately home. "I always planned to visit this place -- but until today I never managed to get around to it."
"Me neither, so when I saw this article in the local paper about them reopening after major refurbishments and doing afternoon teas -- I just thought I wanted to share this with you."
She grinned at him and her eyes sparkled with happiness. "I am so glad that you read that article -- and thought of me."
Dean laughed lightly, as he took her hand in his. "The article was pure chance... thinking of you is becoming a way of life!"
He led her through the main door and across the tiled floors to the lady standing there.
"Good afternoon," Dean said. "I booked a reservation for Hamilton -- for two,"
The woman touched her tablet and then smiled. "Ah yes, Mr Hamilton -- if the two of you would like to follow me; I have a table ready for you out on the balcony."
Shelly thought it might be a little chilly sitting out on the balcony, but there were several patio heaters situated strategically and she actually found it quite pleasant.
The afternoon tea, consisted of delicate triangle sandwiches, and bite sized little cakes, both of various varieties. The tea was poured from a china pot and the fragile plates and silver cutlery added to the romance of the experience.
They enjoyed the whole thing together and chatted lightly between bites and sips, and when they were finished Shelly felt pleasantly satisfied if not overly full.
"Shall we walk off our tea through the gardens and then take a stroll around the ground floor of the house?" Dean asked as he stood to help her out of her chair.
"That sounds lovely," she smiled up at him.
Dean seemed to be in no hurry and they toured the grounds and the accessible areas of the house, but in the end, they made their way back to the car.
She sighed as she looked back at the old place.
"I have had a wonderful afternoon tea, Dean," she told him softly. "But the most wonderful part of it is that I got to share it with you."
Dean had been about to open the car door for her, but instead he turned and took her in his arms for a long slow kiss.
He released her with a sigh.
"Where to now," she asked huskily. "Home?"
Dean was sorely tempted to throw away the rest of his plans and simply take her home and spend the rest of the day making long slow love to her.
"No," he said almost regretful. "I planned to take a drive around this part of the countryside, and hoped to just spend some time with you."
Shelly bit back the disappointment, but smiled happily. "That sounds nice, I should like that too."
"You're sure?" he asked uncertainly.
She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. "I like you Dean," her smile turned into a mischievous grin. "I like you a lot... and for more than just your body."
He laughed ruefully, and shook his head. "That's me told."
He helped her into the car and then strolled round to the driver's side, whistling under his breath as he did so.
*
As they drove around the country side, their talk was of idle chitchat, like favourite movies and foods and so forth. They did not talk about work or family but about themselves in the current place no past or future just likes and dislikes and easy-going subjects.
He parked the car again, and led her inside the countryside hotel and restaurant, and once again he confirmed that he had booked ahead and they were quickly led to a table for the two of them.
The meal was delicious, but if asked afterwards she could not have said what she had eaten, since all she could see and register was the man across from her whose eyes were bright and dark and intense and laughing, and all because of her.
The sun was setting on them by the time he pulled up outside her mum's house, and Shelly looked up at him in the fading light.
"You'll come inside?" she pretty much told him.
Dean gave a crooked little smile. "Is that an order -- or an invitation?" he asked her.
She reached up to kiss him on the lips and her smoky, come to bed eyes were glistening.
"What ever gets you inside," she whispered against his mouth.
"You plan to make use of me?"
Her answering smile was pure wickedness. "Absolutely."
She led him into the silent house, and took her jacket off to hang it up.
"Can I take your jacket as well?" she asked hospitably.
"Thank you," he shrugged out of his own and held it out to her, waiting to see what she would do next.
She glanced at him with a little smile and then began to climb the stairs.
Dean gave a silent little sigh and moved to follow her.
He wanted her so badly that it had been pure torture all afternoon... self-inflicted torture he was quick to admit but he had almost forgotten just how beautiful and sexy she was, in the time that they had been apart, in the days, hour, minutes since he had last seen and been with her. Somewhere along the way he had convinced himself that she was not quite everything he'd made her to be.
One minute in her company and he was just as besotted as the last time he had been with her.
Now he wanted her and she was making it more than obvious that she wanted him too, but the choice he was facing was a small tight single bed, or an uncomfortable floor -- and he so did not want anything to dim his experience with her!
