Chapter 11 - The Fabric of Trust
The next day dawned bright. It was one of those autumnal London mornings where the breeze warns you that winter is coming, but the sun reminds you what summer had been. Emily was already up and out when Mark stirred, her circadian rhythm still disturbed by her night shifts. He found a note from her in the kitchen.
"Gone for a run, back soon xxx"
Half an hour later, Emily returned. She seemed restored a good night's sleep and some exercise.
"Morning, lovely," she said when she entered the kitchen and saw him seated at the breakfast bar. She strode over to him to kiss him, her tightly fitting leggings and workout top showing off her toned muscles and slim physique. Mark watched her move around the kitchen as she made herself breakfast. Even though he knew every inch of her body, he watched her with fresh adoration as she bent low to pick up a bowl or reached high for a cup. Every curve of her body was perfect to him, every freckle a spark of individuality. Even her wind-swept face and tussled hair were exquisite. No other woman on Earth could compare to his witty, beguiling, clever, flirtatious, devious, heartbreaking, wonderful wife.
"
How can this woman be mine?
" Mark wondered to himself, for perhaps the thousandth time in his life. But he knew that, of course, no one can ever truly belong to another. Relationships were mutual agreements -- open-ended, but regularly reviewed contracts, to his attorney brain -- with continual reassessment of appetite for, and commitment to, each other. As every corporate lawyer worth their salt knew, "past performance is no guarantee of future results."
Emily felt his eyes on her and turned to look at him, breaking out into an infectious grin that Mark couldn't help but return.
"Are you eyeing me up, oh dearest one?" she laughed. Mark nodded, raising his hands and shrugging.
"Guilty as charged. Sue me." Emily walked over and wrapped her arms round his waist, pulling herself close to his body.
"Good. So you should be," she said in a playful tone. "These clothes were very expensive." She lent in to kiss him.
The kiss was over all too briefly for Mark's liking, but she didn't immediately pull away. Keeping her arms around him and her face close, she whispered in his ear. "I've got plans for this evening that will leave your head spinning."
Mark's grin widened. "What?" he murmured back, feeling her heartbeat through the skimpy clothing, but Emily didn't answer and simply lent in to kiss him again.
*******
The day passed quickly. Emily spent the day driving Mark to distraction. When she walked past him, her fingers would brush his side lightly, the touch almost imperceptible but still sending a jolt through him. She would catch his eye and blink innocently, before enquiring if he would like to rub her tired feet or aching shoulders. When Mark sat at his computer for a while, she'd slip into his office to deliver a cup of tea, leaning over just enough for her hair to fall in a curtain around her face and tickle his neck. Mark inhaled the scent of her shampoo, taking a breath and gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself, and Emily laughed as she saw the effect she had on him. She made lunch for them both, chopping lettuce and cucumber for their salad and feeding Mark slices of tomato when she plated up.
She left the house and was gone all afternoon on mysterious errands, coming back hours later with her hair freshly cut and styled. Every detail of her haircut spoke of sophistication, from the expertly judged length of the lob that framed her face so perfectly, to the caramel and honey highlights that weaved seamlessly through her natural waves. As she walked, the varying shades caught the light, giving her hair a fluid quality; the simplicity of the classic style enlivened by the obvious flair of her stylist would make her stand out in any room.
By the time the sun began to set, Mark was on edge, a delightful anticipation bubbling under his skin. He found Emily in the lounge, her back to him as she looked out of the window at the blaze of pinks and purples that striped across the sky.
"Spectacular," Mark breathed as he slipped his arms around Emily and joined her to enjoy the majesty of the setting sun. Emily turned in his arms, away from the view, and towards her beau. She flicked her hair away from her face and pressed her lips to his for the third time that day, but this time for a long and unforgettable taste of paradise.
"Want to help me get ready?" Emily offered softly. Mark's response was a silent nod. She laced her fingers through his, and calmly pulled him towards the stairs.
In the bedroom, Emily guided Mark to the chair and motioned for him sit before moving to assemble the pieces she wanted for her date. Mark was mesmerised by her performance, and he felt his stomach swirling as he watched.
She pulled out a stunning A-line dress from her wardrobe and laid it carefully on their bed. Mark vividly remembered her wearing it to a wedding they had once attended together. Closing his eyes, he could still see the folds and pleats of the ballerina-pink material swaying around her as she stepped in time to the music, the hemline flaring in a graceful arc as she spun, and the fabric rippling with her every movement as she danced with him late into the night.
Her movements were deliberate as she began to undress, removing her high-waisted skinny jeans and strappy top to make way for something far more seductive. Mark had witnessed these transformations before, a metamorphosis from the pretty 'girl-next-door', to royal beauty.
Emily continued undressing and removed her bra, perfectly poised with her back straight and shoulders back. She displayed no false modesty, fully aware of the significance of her actions. Mark watched her naked chest rise and fall as she breathed, bewitched by her every move.
"Come and help me take these off?" Emily asked, gesturing to her one remaining item of clothing.
Mark rose from his chair. Emily stood absolutely still, but as she had done once before, she raised her palm as soon as he stood in a signal for him to halt. Mark stopped, watching her intently. Slowly, wilfully, Emily rotated her hand to point towards the ground. Mark obeyed in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees and crawling the last few metres towards his queen. He waited for his instructions.
"Take them off for me," Emily purred, standing before him in only her knickers. Mark raised his trembling hands to her waist and slipped them down.
He actually gasped when he saw her freshly waxed look, the smooth expanse of skin stretching from neck to toe.
"
When... wow...
" was his only response as he gazed at her in newfound longing. He rested his hand on her hip, desperate to feel her but unsure if he was allowed. "Can I...?" he stammered, looking up into her eyes.
Emily nodded with a smile. Taking his fingertips in her hand, she ran them over the soft skin of her thighs and pelvis. Teasingly -- but all too briefly -- she then traced his fingers over the bare skin between her legs before pulling his hand away.
