PETALS OF PASSION

by Amber James

DAISIES

They call you common daisy

The simplest of wild flowers,

Yet mesmerised, the bees caress

Your heart for hours and hours.

And in the heat of summer

In meadows richly blest,

Maidens weave their daisy chains

To whitely grace their breast.

Shy lovers cast your petals

To test their hope is sure,

He loves me, oh he loves me not,

Please, just one petal more.

When I remove the petals

From this perfect flower I hold,

I find a soul to match my own

In the soft bright heart of gold.

DAISIES IN THE MORNING

Even though she had told him that she wished it had been him, she knew how much that one brief kiss from Elliot had disturbed his calm. As she held Elliot close to comfort him she knew Vincent would not be pleased. His tears flowed freely, this dear friend clung to the woman he loved and found the ease he sought in her arms. Below Vincent felt the love flow from his Catherine into another man, and he fumed as he realised it was Elliot Burch. Catherine knew she would have to face yet another of Vincent's moods when she went Below after dark.

His mood swings were becoming almost legendary amongst the small closely knit community, and she had been asked on more than one occasion, by a troubled Father, if there was anything he could do.

How she longed to tell him the only way anyone could help was to convince Vincent that he should put his fears to one side and become the lover she desperately needed.

A solid wall built of fear and frustration stood between them and neither of them was equipped to handle it. United they might have stood a chance but they worked against each other. Every brick Catherine managed to dislodge Vincent had cemented back into place with the mortar of his fear. She understood the root of his refusal but had not been able to make him understand that even when enveloped in his rage he still recognised her. Only she had seen his eyes soften in that moment, only she had seen the love deep within the beast.

*****

The day passed slowly as most days did now, they had only become inconvenient intervals of separation, and she longed for the welcome night. Even if that night meant more dark moments at least they were now moments spent with the man she loved. As darkness came her feet hurried to the park, then through tunnels to their own special place where the concert was just starting above them.

Buried deep within the smile which greeted her she could see his unease and knew he had shared her time with Elliot.

"Have you had a good day?" He questioned far too politely.

You know exactly what kind of day I had, " she replied tartly.

"Yes." Was all he said.

If he would not ask, then she knew she had to bring the subject up or it would hover over them all night. "You know that I saw Elliot today! He was upset about his fathers death Vincent."

"You do not have to explain either yourself, or your actions to me Catherine."

"I shouldn't have to, but you won't accept I could never love Elliot as I love you. Why does everyone keep trying to push me into his arms, and into his bed? I don't want him, I never have! When will you accept that?" She was as angry as she sounded.

"Perhaps if our paths had not crossed Catherine, you would have felt differently."

Tears of frustration and rage began to sting her eyes, but Catherine was determined she would not cry.

"How can you say that! Vincent, I've had enough of your perhaps', you are beginning to sound like Father now! You know what stands between us and it is not another man, you know what I need, what we both need."

"NO!" He almost snarled "I will not discuss this again, what you ask is impossible, can never be."

"Why not?" She challenged again.

"You know the answer Catherine, I will not spoil our time together by constant reminders of what we cannot become." His voice held a dark edge of anguish.

She sighed, "They have all done their work so well haven't they? Father has convinced you that you can take no risks with me, Paracelsus has made you believe the beast within you is incapable of love, I lost you to them long before we met. Perhaps you are right, perhaps I should have married him."

A look of sheer agony crossed his face, she wished she had not spoken the words, but she had and nothing would change the fact. The concert began, they were glad of its interruption, no more was said as they settled to listen to the music.

Leaning against him, she felt warm and secure, within moments his arm wound around her to hold her near. She snuggled into him and lulled by the soft sounds from Above, she drifted off into the realms of sleep where disturbing dreams awaited her.

Only darkness remained, and the cold empty silence which filled the void. Catherine hung, suspended in a timeless ebony space, frightened and alone. There was no way to measure the aeons of time, or the brief seconds spent in this nothingness. Where was he..... Why had he not come for her?

"Vincent!" she called, but there was no movement, only her voice echoing away into the distance. He had always felt her fear, always come for her, always!

Suddenly from behind, two arms encircled her. "Vincent, I knew you would come!" she said as she turned to find not his face, but Elliot's!

"Cathy." He held her to him.

"NO!" she fought to free herself, only now it was another face she saw, another's arms which held her. Now it was Paracelsus! She froze in sheer terror.

"Catherine." The voice copied the man she loved. "Do I not sound like him? Where is your belief that outward looks do not make the man? Am I not as worthy of love as he?"

"Love!" she spat out the word "What do you know of love? There is no love in you, there is only anger and hatred!"

His laughter was harsh and mocking. "And do you think your Vincent is different? You think there is no anger or hatred in him? When he kills for you, can you see only love Catherine? I think not."

"He would harm no-one who did not threaten those he loves, how can you compare yourself to him?" She began to struggle again, but he held her fast.

"I can, because we share certain emotions, You cannot deny it, you can only defend it, justify all he does, and you do it so well. The lawyer in you must believe he needs a defence." Feeling confused and unsure she kept her silence.

"Only a beast could kill as he does," he taunted, "Yet you desire the man, or do you? Is it the lust for blood in the beast which draws you into his arms and awakens a desire for so much more?"

Tears of anger found their way into her eyes as she told him "You know nothing of my feelings for Vincent, you have no right to presume you do, I love him, all of him!"

"Ah, she has a temper too. I know him Catherine, I know him better then you ever could. The Vincent you love will never risk the relationship you seek, for it is the beast in him which holds the passion and the fire, he will never give your beautiful body to him! You should have married Elliot, he would have loved you as you deserve to be loved, completely. He would have laid the world at your feet, and made you its queen. Yet you rejected him for a half-man who hides in shadows denying all he is, all he could be."

As she looked up the face changed yet again. Elliot smiled at her with those beautiful eyes.

"Let me love you Cathy, it's not too late. I would do anything to make you happy ....... anything," he whispered.

She struggled again as he pulled her closer and closer. Pressed against his clothing she thought she would suffocate. Breathing was difficult as she fought free of the dark cloth surrounding her.

"Catherine!" it was his voice, it was Vincent's voice, or was it? "Catherine!" Again it called to her. She found her way through enfolding density to the deep blue of his concerned eyes.

"Vincent," she sighed, knowing this was her own beloved.

"I thought it better to wake you, for the dream troubled you greatly," he told her.

"Dream?" she questioned looking round to find herself truly in his arms, still listening to the concert above them in the park.

"Tell me." he asked, gently stroking her hair and restoring her calm.

"I don't remember much at all." she lied "Except Paracelsus was in it."

How could she disclose all the dream had entailed, how could she tell him the true depths of her desire? No, it would hurt him too much, she tucked the dream away in her memory and snuggled up to him. It was wonderful just to be near him, to feel him close, to rest her hand on his broad chest and feel the mighty heart which beat there.

Soon it was time for Catherine to return to her empty apartment, and as she walked by his side down half-lit tunnels, the dream kept returning to trouble her anew. She knew he was aware of her unease, twice he tried to persuade her to share her thoughts with him, twice she put him off with excuses of tiredness he had not believed.

They reached her basement and there was a sadness in the blue eyes, a sorrow she had placed there, she knew how hurt he was. They had never kept secrets, had shared everything, this she could not share and that upset her more than the dream ever could. There wasn't even an embrace as they said good-night, she walked through the pale shaft of light separating their worlds alone and unhappy.

*****

Drifting in and out of sleep she found little ease in her bed. Each time she drifted into the darkness of that empty void his words taunted her. "It is the beast in him which holds the passion and the fire, he will never give your beautiful body to him."

It was almost three when she decided to leave her bed and make a drink. If this dream was going to haunt her for what was left of the night, then she preferred to stay awake. Sitting on the couch nursing an empty cup, soft grey tendrils of sleep found and claimed her for their own.

The nightmare began anew, this time she was not alone!

Elliot stood by her side, an Elliot she did not know. His gaze cold and hard, he let his eyes travel up her body from her feet to the top of her head. The blatant sexual desire she read in his icy gaze terrified her, this was not

Elliot! She had seen so many different emotions in his eyes, but none like this, whatever Elliot was feeling he always looked at her with love. Stepping forwards he ran his fingers up her arm, the flesh beneath his touch felt somehow dirty and contaminated. His smile, a lecherous leer, made her shudder as he asked, "Let me love you Cathy, I know what you desire and I can satisfy the longing he never will."

Frozen, unable to speak, Catherine could only stand there as he slid the thin straps of her night-gown off her shoulders. Watching in horror she saw the blue silk slide to the floor. The pseudo-Elliot trailed his long slim fingers across her shoulders, they began to work their way down her body offending all they touched. Cold hard palms brushed over nipples which responded, and the smirk returned to the face before her.

"Cathy, you say you don't want me but your body says you lie. Perhaps if I continue we will both be surprised at just how much you have lied!" the voice which sounded like Elliot's suggested.

"NO....!" she managed to break the silence, but movement still eluded her.

"Come to Elliot, Cathy, I shall enjoy this, even if you continue to pretend you don't.

"You are not Elliot!" she managed, those words seemed to release her voice. "Elliot would never treat me like this, he would not........." she stopped in mid sentence as the face changed. It was Paracelsus who held her naked body, drawing it to him. As the black cape he wore encircled her she screamed and fought.

With a start, she awoke! She shuddered as she felt the thick black cloth around her, then realised the dark material was different. It was Vincent's cloak which covered her as she stood in the centre of her bedroom, in his arms.

Pressed close to him she cried, tears of relief and joy flooded from her soul. She was safe, he was here, nothing else mattered.

"Catherine?" the soft voice full of agony, spoke her name. "You were in such distress, your fear so strong. I always know when you dream and the dream holds fear for you, but this was so real! When I got here I ....found you .....like this!" His great head shook, he seemed unable to continue.

Realisation of exactly what Vincent had meant, hit her with a sudden force. Underneath his cloak she was naked! He had found her standing in the middle of her bedroom with nothing on!

Lifting her head she gazed into his eyes and was stunned by the desire she read there, the blue seemed deeper, a colour so dark and filled with fire. Lost in the depths of his beautiful eyes she could not look away, did not want to look away.

Vincent found her gaze as compelling as his own. He knew he should go but he could not leave her, not like this. The slim form was lost in the folds of his cloak, but he could feel it tremble and shudder as sobs tore through its fragility. Lifting her clear of the floor, he carried her over to the bed, lying her carefully on the pink quilt.

"Don't leave me!" she pleaded.

How could he? "Hush," the soft tones comforted. "I will stay until you are calmer." Reclining on the covers, he watched as she curled her small body into his.

Blue eyes took on a distant look as he called to mind the last time they had lain together like this. All he could do then, when she grieved for her father, was to hold her just as he did now. It had been so difficult then, to have her so close, so vulnerable, but now it was almost impossible, and he fought for control as she calmed.

One slender arm forced its way through the dark folds to rest on his chest, the simple touch of her hand sent fire coursing through his body. A small tear-stained face emerged from the bundle he held, the pleading eyes gazed at him in adoration, asking for the love he could not - no, dare not, give.

Bending to kiss her forehead he felt her shift in his hold, their mouths collided.

Before he had time to react her arms fastened themselves around his neck, he could do nothing! A sigh of both pleasure and of agony forced his mouth to open, as the tender pink tongue slipped over his strong white teeth his heart turned somersaults. Deep within their bond he felt her delight and pleasure in the exchange, it washed over him to be followed by a tidal wave of staggering desire. Understanding where this would lead he knew it had to stop.

Freeing his lips from hers he whispered, "No, please Catherine, this must stop now!"

Determined, she ignored his plea and wriggled out of her covering to kneel on the bed. Reaching out to move her away his hands touched the warm flesh, he felt her sharp intake of breath. His senses reeled as her desire overwhelmed him, she liked his touch, she welcomed it, she longed for it, and more.

This time his lips searched for Catherine's, as they touched, hers parted in a clear and open invitation. Tentatively, the tip of his tongue ran along the small even teeth, then slowly began an intimate exploration, which excited her, far more than he had ever believed possible, leaving him hungry for more. He could feel her small hands working their way between the layers of his clothing. Anguish seared his soul as he fought the emotions of his desire to feel her hands on his naked flesh, and his fear she would reject its differences. The agony died within him as their bond told him of Catherine's complete acceptance. Slender fingers moved in the velvet soft texture they found beneath the many garments, softly stroking, soothing his fears, stimulating his desire.

Without warning she pulled away from him to sit back on her heels. Blue eyes took in every inch of the body before him, tears misting his vision as the joy of her acceptance filled him.

A quizzical look crossed her face "You're crying?"

"I did not know it would be........ like this." he sighed. "Catherine, men have been inspired to produce wonderful poetry, music, art, for love. All I can do is weep."

The smile spread from her mouth to light up her eyes, "Nothing could speak to me or move me as your tears do. I have never felt as happy, or as loved as I do now, but I want more Vincent!"

"I know," he answered.

There was no resistance as she removed first the jerkin, then the dark jumper, to leave him sitting in his trousers and a pale cream tunic.

Climbing off the bed she knelt at its side and began to remove his boots, but she struggled in vain. Laughing, as much from nervousness, as from the situation, he bent and pulled them off with ease then socks followed. Standing, she took the hem of his shirt in both hands drawing it swiftly over his head to join his other clothes on the floor. This first sight of his chest and shoulders was one she would never forget, it left her weak. Even in this dim half-light his clearly defined muscles looked as if they had been carved by some great master sculptor. He moved, and they rippled in a gently undulating rhythm, an erotic invitation which sent her heart leaping.

Pushing him back across the bed she ran her fingers across his shoulders then down the contours of his wide chest to rest at his waist. It was then she noticed the obvious erection straining the fabric of his trousers. She wondered just how long he had been in such discomfort.

As if he read her thoughts he answered, "Since you kissed me."

Wasting no time she unfastened the trousers to free him from their hold, then slid them off his legs. When they had joined the growing pile on the floor she stepped back to look at him, and in that tiny pause he was on his feet.

Catherine struggled just to breathe as she gazed at the sight before her. There were no words to describe the magnificence of a naked Vincent, and she was awed by the impact of his presence. The heat of his gaze scorched her as he closed the gap between them to encircle her small waist with strong hands.

"Please!" she stammered, shocked by the confidence in his eyes and in his hold.

"Are you sure?" the husky voice questioned. "We can never retrace this step Catherine."

All she could do was repeat her "Please!"

Hands still firmly around her waist Vincent lifted her clear of the floor onto the bed and, in the same movement, joined her there. Side by side they lay facing each other, one waiting for the other to make the first move. After what seemed an eternity his hand moved to the gentle swell of her hip, fingers trailed leisurely to come to rest in the small of her back. The other hand slid around her neck, his arm moving down between small shoulder blades to cover her spine.

She held her breath as she saw a glimmer of fear disturb the glittering eyes, they closed, he took a deep breath and tightened his hold to pull the length of her body against his own.

"Catherine," he whispered, as the held breath was released in relief, her reaction to his body against hers shimmering through their bond brought him only intense joy.

"Me too," she answered the unspoken question, as her lips moved across his chest, her free hand began to move lower and lower with the promise her soft mouth would follow. Freeing herself, she pressed on his shoulders turning him onto his back, to allow her lips to continue all her hands had begun. As her tongue buried itself in his navel he squirmed, she had found a very ticklish spot and repeating the action produced the same result. Her lips moved slowly towards their goal and he moaned gently as her mouth closed over the hard warmth of him.

When his breathing became ragged, and a hoarse "Catherine" came from his lips, she moved back to them and to an exchange which left her stunned. Hooded eyes spoke openly of his need, his desire to be the lover she had wanted for so long. Suddenly, he turned her over onto her back, the swift force of his movement taking her breath away.

Kneeling between her legs he slid his hands under her to pull her down the bed, then moved them to rest them either side of her head. His lips began their own impassioned journey of erotic exploration, starting with a fiery exchange of devouring long kisses. Her neck burned as his hunger made demands on the flesh there.

Eventually, he made his way to breasts which begged for his mouth's warm caress, the long hot tongue drawing circles around the hard nipples. The heat of her body drew him ever downwards, lips searing her skin. He copied every move she had made but now instinct took over as the textured messenger of his desire quickly found its way into her aching depths, an overture to the ecstasy yet to come, a firm promise that this night would be all she had dreamed it would be.

When she had reached the limits of her endurance he moved back to her open mouth. Lifting his head and body away from hers he gazed into her eyes.

"Don't stop now!" she pleaded.

"I have no intention of stopping Catherine. I want to watch you, to look into your eyes and see your soul, as I enter your body."

The gaze which held hers had a possessive, almost arrogant intimacy she had not seen before, even his words had seemed somehow strangely bold and confident, not words she would have expected from Vincent. Placing his hands on her stomach, fingers spread wide across her hips they slid towards her waist, continuing up her body until they reached her breasts.

Gone was the gentle, hesitant touch, gone now the tentative exploration, his hands were firm and sure as they stroked and kneaded. When they reached her shoulders they stopped, only to slide under her arms resting there. Strong fingers curled over onto her shoulders taking her in their tight grip. He pulled her towards him until the hard glistening shaft of his desire hovered just outside her eager flesh. Blue eyes fixed and held the green as with one swift push his body entered hers. She gasped softly as he travelled deeper and deeper into her waiting warmth, as thrust followed burrowing thrust she drowned in the sapphire pools, becoming completely lost in their joining.

Unable to think, she reacted only to him, desired only his pleasure, knew only his need. The flames raged through her too, building quickly into a searing inferno which matched the fire in Vincent.

Catherine responded to his every move, matched the thrusting body which had claimed her and, as through a deep feral snarl, the husky voice insisted "Now", obediently released all held within, to join him in a climax which seemed to last forever.

In that eternal moment she saw, within the measured control of the man, the primal passion of the beast. Heart and mind, body and soul, man and beast, one glorious being with a heart which throbbed the beat of her name.

Vincent pulled away to lie by her side, exhaustion poured into him from her sated body. She wriggled closer and he barely heard her murmur, "Come back, please!"

He smiled as he felt her fighting the sleep which had begun to settle on her tired body. Rolling onto his side he placed an arm about her waist drawing her to him, entering her again with ease. She relaxed immediately and the deep sigh of contentment escaping her lips proclaimed her complete surrender to much needed rest.

Slipping down into quiet layers of sleep Catherine relaxed, still joined with him. Vincent watched her in silent wonder and, as the sky lightened to herald the dawn, he slowly and gently withdrew from her body, dressing himself ready to return home to the labyrinth Below.

Walking with a new confidence into her lounge, he located paper and pen, then wrote a hasty note. Returning to her half in and half out of the covers. With tender hands he lifted the quilt and covered her, then bent to place the gentlest of kisses on the full inviting mouth.

She didn't move at all, but a soft sigh escaped her lips sending her soft warm breath into his mouth. The steady, even rhythm of her breathing drew and held his gaze as he watched her peacefully resting, daylight was too near, with only a brief backwards glance he left, knowing he would see her once again when the longed-for night returned.

Friday morning came, and the shrill alarm clock announced it was time for Catherine to begin a new day. Her eyes opened gradually, unsure if last night had been real or merely a dream to torment her anew.

Turning her head to the pillow at her side she smiled, her eyes came to rest on the neatly folded paper resting in the hollow his head had made. Quickly. she sat up, took the note, then ran her fingers lightly over the name his hand had penned. "Catherine" she whispered into the sunlit room. Carefully unfolding the precious note she read,

"Dearest Catherine,

Last night you taught me how wrong I have been to doubt the power of our love. My life is now complete, my heart sure and unafraid.

Come Below tonight and stay with me for the weekend. We have plans to make.

VINCENT"

The day passed with an agonising slowness, she re-read the note time and time again. Forcing herself to concentrate, she worked o the papers piled high on her desk until only a few remained. At last, five o'clock came, she began to gather her things together.

"Going early?" Joe questioned.

"No!" she replied. "Going on time, for once."

"Something special on?" he asked.

"Very special, and nothing to do with you," she answered with a broad grin.

Joe Maxwell smiled back and collected the file he had left his office for. As she vanished through the door he called after her, "See you Monday Radcliffe, early."

*****

Traffic was heavy, the streets crowded but nothing could dampen her spirits, as she entered her apartment she was busy making plans.

Catherine spent almost two hours getting ready, she showered, washed her hair, curled it, then went to the closet.

Choosing a dress of rich royal blue silk with a very low neckline she thought of the reaction the clinging blue fabric would produce. Vincent had never seen her in this dress, no-one had. She bought it over two years ago because

Tom had liked it when he saw it in the shop window, but when she tried it on at home she had been unsure. The plunging neckline revealed too much, and where it clung to her body it covered like a second skin. This was without doubt a dress which openly invited stares and left nothing to the imagination, this was a dress created for seduction and tonight it would be perfect!

When she took a final look in the mirror she was impressed, Vincent would find her irresistible. Covering herself with the long beige raincoat she made her way to the basement.

Stepping off the last metal rung she turned to find him waiting and saw a questioning look pass over his face as he stared at the small bag she carried. "What is it Vincent?"

"You have not brought your overnight bag with you?" he queried.

As the look of disappointment came into his eyes, she realised he had thought she would not be staying.

She smiled as she said, "I have only brought my track suit and a change of underwear. I didn't bring any of my night-clothes because I didn't think I would need any, should I go back for some?"

Blushing, he lowered his head as he told her, "No, there is no need." Then he leaned against the wall his attention on his feet.

Standing as close as she could, she lifted the huge head with her free hand, and noticed the worried look vanish as she whispered "Kiss me!"

Strong eager arms closed around her as his lips met hers in an exchange which promised everything she longed for, then they walked in contented silence to his chamber.

*****

Placing her bag on the chair she told Vincent, "I had better go and see Father, he always likes to be the first to know when there are visitors."

"That will not be necessary. You are not just a visitor and I have told him there are things we must talk over. He does not expect to see us tonight."

Looking around the room she noticed he had been moving things about, the shelf at the back of the bed had been cleared of its clutter, amber light filtered through the fan-shaped window to provide a magnificent backdrop for the vase of large white daisies which sat there.

"Vincent, how lovely!" she told him walking over to the bed "Where did you get them?"

"Samantha brought them from the park." he said simply, then he began to take a strong interest in his feet again as the soft voice continued. "I thought you would see them when you wake up in the morning." Then he added "I can take them to the guest chamber, if you would like me to."

"No thank you Vincent, I think they should stay just where they are. You are so right I shall enjoy seeing them when I wake."

His face lifted and she saw the hopeful longing in his eyes, so more as a statement than a question she asked, "You do want me to stay here with you tonight?" She quickly removed her coat.

It took a few moments to recover from the impact of her words and her carefully planned appearance. She waited silently for his answer watching him struggle to regain his composure.

"You know I do," he told her, his voice becoming a hoarse whisper. "When I left you last night I had one regret and one only. As the darkness retreated from your world I was also forced to leave. My one desire now is to sleep with you held close, to know the joy of waking to find you still in my arms."

In less than a heartbeat he was before her "We have much to talk about Catherine."

"No we have nothing to talk about, but we have a lot to share." She reached behind her, unzipped the dress letting it slide down her body to the floor. "I will love seeing the daisies in the morning, but not as much as I will seeing you beside me, however I'm not ready for sleep just yet!"

"But you will be," he promised her.

"Eventually." she replied as his mouth descended. "But not for a long time yet."

She slid her hands beneath his cloak, smiling as she realised how little he was wearing. The usual layers had gone, he had spent time planning too, all he wore over his jeans was the cream tunic he had worn the night before, and within seconds the floor was covered with the various hues of his cloak, tunic, boots and jeans.

Facing each other they touched and caressed, stroked and stimulated, teased and tantalised. She suddenly felt weak and clung to him for support, he lifted her onto the bed. His hands moved over her, their bond guiding his every touch, he was very much 'in control' she thought as his mouth joined the hands which seemed to touch her very soul.

Parting her thighs he sent her soaring into unknown realms with the insistent probing of his tongue. Her body trembled as the ache became unbearable, in that moment of exquisite agony, he took her demanding mouth with his own as his body thrust powerfully into hers, building the passion as it eased the pain.

The slender frame matched his, stroke for stroke, but he controlled the pace, slowing as he felt her near release.

"Please!" she urged.

"Patience," he whispered. "There is no hurry, we have all the time we need Catherine. Tonight we will not be rushed."

Time and again he brought her to that same moment, only to calm her with his body and through their bond. She longed for that sweet release, yet wanted this wonderful joining to last forever. Aware only of his lips, his hands, and the powerful hardness of him deep inside her, she could only react to his body as her own became merely an extension of him.

Her eyes met his, and she saw within them an undeniable look of pride, of ownership, as he gently controlled her every response, her every movement. The fire building within him took hold, lips drew back to reveal the large pointed fang-like teeth as with a soft snarl of triumph, he released the life-giving essence of his being into the woman he adored, knowing it would quickly bring her own release with its force.

Fighting for her breath, Catherine felt weak and helpless as he stroked her shuddering body with firm and possessive hands. Through their bond and the tenderest of touches he was slowly calming her, until her heart beat a steady pulse again, and her breathing ceased to be a problem. Moving her gently onto her side, he lay behind her. Surrounding her with his long body, he entered her again, just as he had done the night before, knowing this was how they would sleep.

Catherine fell asleep almost immediately, then he too drifted off into a sleep of dreamless contentment he had not known before

*****

When Catherine opened her eyes she felt him stir deep inside her and realised the night had passed. As her wakening called to him, he hardened and began a quiet, gentle rocking motion as his hands sought and found her breasts. Soft lips brushed the back of her neck, her eyes closed in sheer ecstasy.

"All night?" she whispered.

It would seem so!" he answered between the gentle caress of his mouth.

"Nice." she told him in contented, hushed tones.

"Very!"

This leisurely pace delighted them, time slipped by, the amazing desire of one body for the intimacy of another filled them. Unhurried, at ease they continued until the shared climax left them trembling.

Gazing at the flowers, Catherine identified a new longing, she wanted to see them every morning for the rest of her life.

Moving down the bed Vincent tightened his hold looking over her shoulder.

"Yes Catherine, I want every dawn to find you in my arms and my body still joined with yours."

Silence fell between them, not an uneasy silence born of the difficulty of not knowing what to say, but the silence of knowing what they felt for each other was too deep for spoken expressions.

After a time he released her saying, "We had better get dressed, I told you, Father is expecting us, both of us. We have so much to tell him."

Stretching she asked, "Will it take long?"

"Will what take long?" he replied, the depth of his voice telling her his hunger had not been satisfied by their tender exchange.

"Will it take long to tell him I am staying with you?" she answered, aware now that she desired him just as much.

"How long will you stay with me Catherine?"

"For the rest of my life," she murmured stroking the warm, textured back.

"Can you not stay longer, my love?" he pleaded reaching for her again, her reply was lost as his mouth found hers, igniting the glowing embers of their passion.

Between the hungry open-mouthed kisses she managed to tell him, "I will stay for ever, if you insist."

Turning quickly, he pinned this woman he adored firmly down on the bed.

Oh, I insist." he whispered as he slipped into her waiting body, the fire consuming them both as he told her, "Now you are truly mine, I will never, never let you go."

One single white petal fell from the flowers, settling in the gold of his hair, Catherine smiled as she thought of the beauty she saw in those large white blooms, how she loved her daisies in the morning.

LILACS

The heady perfume of you

Called to me across the garden.

Clustering blossoms,

Full, rich,

Beauty of purple and white.

As I pass, your fragrance stops me,

And I am forced to touch

My hands caress

The soft, breathtaking magnificence

I find in you.

Even now, the scent of you lingers,

Longingly on my fingers,

As does hers, the most perfect flower

In the garden of my heart.

LILACS IN THE AFTERNOON

Catherine was so tired, even though she was only supposed to be working part-time, she still carried a very heavy caseload. Rubbing her reddened eyes, she stretched her aching body. A gentle hand touched the sagging shoulder.

"You work too hard Catherine!" his soft voice told her.

Turning her head, she gazed into the blue eyes she adored. They seemed so inviting, so tempting. It would be too easy to push the work aside and surrender to their invitation, but she was almost at an end.

"Just another half-hour should see it finished Vincent," she whispered, the sound of regret in her voice unmistakable.

He sighed, "This is part-time?"

"I know," she answered. "Once this case is out of the way, the pace will ease off. I was too involved with it when Joe agreed to let me work fewer hours. At least we're together, only spending three days a week at the office gives us more time here."

Gently, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Then I had better let you finish off. I will go and organise some supper."

Catherine watched as he strode from the chamber to disappear from sight, then she returned to her papers.

Some time later Vincent walked into the large cluttered chamber with tea and sandwiches. Catherine had finished her resume and was gathering the papers together ready for Monday morning. As the last batch vanished into the ample bag, the tray was placed in the space they had occupied.

"Oh good!" she exclaimed. "I'm really hungry!"

"I know," the soft answer came.

The plate of food soon diminished as she tucked in with some relish.

"You always know just what I need, don't you?" she said, smiling at him.

"Always," he whispered as he began to undress for the night's rest.

The task completed, he picked up his cup and climbed into bed. Mesmerised, he marvelled at the impact of Catherine's body as she began to remove her own clothing. Hot tendrils of desire flowed through his body, he pushed them firmly away knowing how tired she was.

Yes, she was right, he did always know exactly what she needed. Tonight it was sleep she needed above all else. If he reached out for her she would welcome his touch, would welcome his passion, would welcome the ecstasy of their lovemaking. But no, he thought, not tonight. This night we sleep.

Catherine took the now empty cup from Vincent's hand, placing it on the small table next to her own, then she took her place beside him. The kiss they shared was brief, the tired green eyes looked puzzled as she sought his mouth again, he broke the kiss and the intensity of the moment.

"What's wrong Vincent?" she asked.

"Nothing, you need to rest. Sleep now Catherine."

"You don't want to love me?" again the questioning look within the green depths.

"You know I do. But now it is more important that you rest."

Curling into his body, she settled into a deep sleep which came upon her almost immediately.

*****

Waking late the following morning she listened to the insistent tapping of the pipes.

"Kanin is home," they announced. So she settled contentedly amongst the pillows and stretched slowly.

Vincent was working in the lower tunnels, so he could not share her thoughts. That was only possible when they were very close. But she was happy and he would know this joy which radiated from her heart. The long weary months of exhausting effort it had taken, to persuade the authorities to parole Kanin, had been worth all the time and energy she had spent. Now he was back amongst those he loved, his mind at ease after so long. Any separation was too long when it involved those who loved.

Looking around the cluttered chamber, she found it very empty without Vincent. Sighing, she began to touch the ornaments, the bits and pieces he had collected over the years. How she missed his presence, his nearness, his love. How she wished he was here with her, now.

"I am," Vincent told her from the doorway, then moved to take her into his arms.

"You're back early, finished already?" she asked.

"Complaining?" he teased, "I had thought ...... perhaps .... a swim?"

"Good idea!" she exclaimed. Quickly, she gathered their things together, then took his hand. "Let's go!"

As they stepped out into the tunnel, his long arm encircled her slender shoulders, she leaned into its strength. The old rusty pipes rang out the invitation to a welcome home party for Kanin that night.

The couple spoke of their memories of the day they lit candles and left lilacs in Kanin and Olivia's chamber, the time spent in these remembrances passed quickly, it always did.

As they neared the large cavern which housed their favourite swimming spot, Catherine began sensing very strong feelings of both anticipation and excitement seeping into her soul from the man by her side. She stopped to look up at him and saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"What are you up to?" She asked.

"Me?" his amused tone was almost a chuckle.

"Yes you!"

"Wait and see!" she was told as he bent and lifted her into his arms. "Close your eyes."

Catherine did as she was asked, snuggling against his chest in the darkness behind her eyelids. She felt other feelings echoing within the steady beat of his heart, 'not just a swim' she thought 'that's not what all this is about'.

"You may open your eyes now." he whispered. Slowly, expectantly, the lids rose, she gasped. Dozens of candles had been lit, they shimmered in the waters reflection of their golden glow. Vincent set her on her feet by a heap of cushions. Lying by them a large bunch of flowers caught her eye.

"Vincent, look!" she exclaimed. "Lilacs!"

He smiled a knowing smile, then bent, to take a card from the bouquet and hand it to Catherine. She read it aloud.

"Thank you for all you have done for us.

Kanin and Olivia"

"I told Olivia that you would be pleased with the way they intended to repay our gift to them," the soft tones explained. "Now I think it is time for our swim."

Clothing was soon discarded on the floor, and she bent to retrieve her swimming costume from the bundle she had set by the cushions.

"No!" he stayed her hand with his own. "There is no need. We shall not be disturbed." He lifted her to lie against the soft strength of his chest.

Winding her arms about his neck, her lips met his. Tender and soft at first, then deepening, as the erotic textures of skin pressed together began to stimulate their heightened senses. Suddenly without warning, his grip tightened, he jumped high and wide into the deepest part of the pool. Down they sank, into the icy dark waters. He released her, then he placed a hand either side of her slender waist, as their upward movement broke the even surface of the water

Catherine was gasping, the effects of the icy chill and the heated exchange left her fighting for her breath. Vincent laughed, the deep gravel tones of his mirth sent ripples of pure pleasure through her body.

Moving her arms from his neck she swam away from him towards the far side of the pool, where the water was much shallower, where a cascade of pure clear water poured down from the rocky ledge above. Here she could stand on the sandy floor of the pool and walk beneath the sharp icy, stinging needles of the high, powerful waterfall.

Treading water, still in the deepest part, Vincent watched as waist high water flowed around Catherine. His heart became envious of the liquid's intimacies, he yearned to flow around her to caress her in the same way. Slim, pale, so beautiful, she walked into the shimmering screen and vanished.

Strong strokes took him quickly to the curtain of water, sinking slowly beneath the surface he made his way under the falls.

Catherine grinned as she felt the firm fingers curl around her ankle, lips began to work their way up the back of her legs. This was delightful. She wondered just how long Vincent could hold his breath, she didn't want this to end!

Surfacing, his eyes fixed and held her own as he circled her like some sleek predatory shark. Her whole body tingled as building tension passed through their bond to surround them in its erotic embrace. Then, he was gone! She waited, unable to move, unable even to breathe, eternity became moments, seconds lasted for ever.

Her toes curled as his tongue slid gently between them, with infinite slowness he started his ascent. Inch by inch his mouth moved up the front of her legs, sometimes it was soft lips, others the raspy tongue or the gentle agonising feel of his teeth in a playful nibble. Over knees, ever upwards until he reached her thighs. His hands parted them with little effort, the long tongue probing into heated depths. He stopped, came to the surface, raised himself to his full height placing his hands about her waist, to lift her slowly out of the water.

Catherine's arms held fast round his neck, his fingers round her waist held her clear of the sandy floor. Pressed close to his body, she felt every muscle, every movement, every heartbeat.

Kissing the end of her nose, he moved his lips to hers, his tongue playing over the soft moist fullness he found there. Tracing the shape of her lips forced a small moan from her. As her mouth opened, his long probing tongue crossed the even white teeth to plunge into her mouth, in a promise of the exquisite delights to come. An arm reached under her knees and he lifted her into his hold to wade along the side of the pool where the water fell away to almost nothing.

Lying her amongst the heaped cushions, he knelt by her side, his hand slowly reaching out towards her body. The long claw-tipped fingers touched the soft fullness of a milk-white breast, the palm brushed against the pale pink nipple, it hardened and Catherine's indrawn breath delighted him. The breast he held fitted into the palm of his hand perfectly, but the other, the untouched, the unloved called to him now with such power.

His huge head lowered, as his gentle mouth was drawn down to take the hardening bud between worshipping lips. The soft moan which now escaped her lips became a whimper as she began to ache for more than his mouth could offer. With heart-stopping tenderness, he parted her thighs and moved between them, long strong thumbs stroked along finely muscled legs nearing the heated depths of her body. His thumb slipped into the thick fair cluster of curls which hid the most secret parts of this woman he lived only to love. She gasped as he touched that small sensitive spot, then his tongue followed his hand and his name came back to him as a strangled groan.

Catherine could stand no more. "Please!" she begged, as his mouth began to work its way back up her body.

Easily he entered her. "Catherine," he whispered, as the silken warmth sheathed him completely.

He heard the contented sigh he knew so well. It winged its way from deep within her to find its home in his soul.

At first his movements were slow and gentle, love poured back and forth along the fiery filaments of their bond. Desire and passion built, colliding, merging, as the momentum of their lovemaking increased.

Catherine's head rolled off the cushion into the fragrant bouquet. Crushed lilacs filled the air with their own unique smell, small lavender petals entwined with the silken tresses. The strong heady perfume mingled with the intensity of a shared climax, they clung tightly to each other as their bodies shook and trembled.

Gradually, they calmed. Still wrapped in each others arms, she gazed up at him and smiled.

"I thought we were supposed to be swimming?" she teased.

“There is still time," he told her.

Lifting her to her feet, he led her to the waters edge. Holding both her hands in his, he lowered her into the deepest part of the pool. Treading water, she waited for him to join her. There wasn't even a ripple as the huge frame, braced by strong arms, slowly entered the water by her side. They swam around, chased each other, playing like children for almost an hour.

Vincent was first to leave the water. He towelled himself dry, then donned the massive bath robe that Catherine had given him for his birthday. It had been specially-made, She had told the maker 'extremely large' - and it was, even for him. Pale blue, it matched his eyes, a long zip from hem to neck made it warm and comfortable. Sitting on a boulder, back against the hard wall, he watched as the water moved across her body, exciting him anew.

Emerging from the pool. Catherine picked up a towel and walked to him.

"Dry my hair for me please!" she asked, then pushed the hem of his robe up and over his knees. The strong legs parted and she knelt between them facing him.

Wrapping the towel around her head he began to gently rub. She bent, drawn as always by his body, she buried her face in his groin, nuzzling there contentedly, with only a layer of fabric separating them. She shivered, a mixture of the chill and her reaction to his hardening flesh.

"You are cold, my love." he whispered hoarsely.

"Surely this robe is big enough for both of us?" she asked him with a definite sparkle in the green eyes.

Slipping her head under the hem she delighted him as lips and tongue began to work their way along heavily muscled thighs. Closing her mouth around the hard throbbing flesh, she heard his indrawn breath. Her mouth continued in the caress she knew he longed for. Moving, she made her way across his stomach then onto his chest.

Her senses reeled, she could almost taste his desire as the same bitter-sweet pain focused within her own body. As her head emerged from the fabric at the base of his throat, he closed his legs, first one then the other, as she moved hers to the outside of his.

Straddling his hips. Catherine lowered herself inch by inch until he lay encased deep within her body. There was no visible movement as internal muscles rippled and tightened, coaxing from him that which she desired most. The warm outpouring of his body into hers brought a sense of contentment, a feeling of being part of his very soul.

Resting against his wide chest, Catherine relaxed. As his arms held her with surety and love, she no longer thought of herself existing outside of this moment. Vincent's strong heart beat against her, matching her own. Even the sweat of their heated bodies mingled together in long rivulets which trickled down their joined flesh. Holding her tightly to him he began rocking gently back and forth, sending the exhausted Catherine swiftly into sleep.

An hour or two later, she awoke. He had not slept. Neither moved as they rested there, enjoying the feel of their bodies touching, joining.

Lifting her chin he lowered his head and they kissed. Swift tender kisses burned her mouth then her neck where he travelled, until one large hand moved behind her head, holding it gently, firmly. Then lips joined in an exchange which deepened, intensified, as his tongue excited, teased the roof of her mouth. That part of him still buried deep inside her hardened, caressed her, filled her, she bathed in the fire of his passion.

He stood, she wrapped her legs around him, tightening them as she did her arms. Still joined, still within a single garment he carried her back to the cushions. His only thought now, was to love her again amongst the overwhelming fragrance of the lilacs in the afternoon.

JASMINE

Is it the snow which calls to you

Bidding you to bloom?

Or perhaps the winds of Winter

And the days of endless gloom?

Or maybe the Robin's singing

Disturbed your yearly rest,

Just to remind your gentle heart,

That our Winter must be blest

With sunny, yellow beauty,

On leaf-green stem you blend,

Most brilliant of colours,

Tells us Winter's at an end.

You're nature's way of saying

That Spring is on her way.

And in life's garden other blooms

Must, each one, have their day.

JASMINE IN THE EVENING

The cold seeped into the apartment as Catherine waited for Vincent to arrive. The early sunset meant that he could visit her balcony sooner and for the first winter since they had met, he spent these few evenings she stayed Above inside the warmth of her apartment.

Each night he visited her, never missing, there were times when she worried about the dangerous ascent to her balcony in this terrible weather, but he would not stay away - they had even argued about it.

Now she worked only three days, it meant she only slept two nights Above and he always joined her for some part of the night. He had never spent a full night in her apartment or in her bed; his constant awareness of the dangers of the world Above made it impossible for him to rest there.

Half-past six, the clock told her when she looked at it for the fourth time in as many minutes. She listened for the slight sounds which would tell her he had arrived. However he was near, very near. She could sense his approach, almost feel the laboured breathing as the climb strained his lungs. Excited, happy and expectant, she waited for the man she loved.

Landing amongst the deepest shadows of the balcony, Vincent caught his breath.

By his side he noticed the slender branches covered in the bright yellow flowers and thought how wonderful nature was. Even in this icy chill she sent her reminders that spring was on its way.

The doors opened, Catherine came out to meet him and smiled as she noticed the interest he was taking in her newest balcony acquisition.

"It's winter flowering Jasmine, Vincent. I thought it would brighten up the balcony during these long grey days."

With the tenderest care, he fingered the yellow blossoms. "There are no leaves?" he asked.

"No, it's one of those shrubs which produces flowers before leaves."

"How delicate it appears, and yet how hardy it must be to survive, to flourish in this biting cold."

He turned, noticing how she shivered. When he saw she was wearing only the white towelling bath robe and her slippers, he frowned.

"You are going to be ill if you insist on standing here so poorly-dressed. Come we should go indoors."

His long arm wound around her shoulder and he guided her into the room, closing the doors firmly behind them.

Catherine had lit the fire and it burned invitingly in the grate. He led her to it, standing her before its warmth. As she gazed into the flames his arms wrapped themselves around her waist and she leaned back as the heat returned to her body.

"Jasmine," he mused almost to himself. "I do not remember ever having seen it before."

“Really?" she asked.

"No, I would have remembered," the soft voice whispered in her ear.

"They make tea from Jasmine, Vincent. Did you know that?" she murmured.

"Is there anything they do not manage to make tea from?" he teased.

Turning in his arms she kissed him briefly then pushed him down onto the couch.

Standing in front of him she said, "I'm sure I have some in the kitchen."

Vincent looked puzzled, so she continued, "Jasmine tea, if I go and find it you could try some."

He looked unconvinced, but if she wanted him to try some, he would. If this would make her happy, then he was more than just content to become her 'victim'. Once she had vanished into the small kitchen he moved all the cushions onto the floor where they would be much more comfortable.

As she came back into the room, he looked a trifle concerned when he saw the tray with mugs, teapot, and the strange things he had been told were called tea bags.

Those small squares fascinated him. In the world where he had been raised, one of the few things he had taken for granted was the fact that tea always came as leaves to be placed in the teapot, covered with boiling water, then poured through a strainer. Tea had never come in tea bags, not before Catherine.

Setting the tray down, she soon provided him with the Jasmine tea as she had promised. Tentatively, he sipped the hot liquid. Catherine giggled as he screwed up his face in an unappreciative way.

"Not to your liking?" she asked. Saying nothing, he shook his head then stuck out his tongue in a most alarming fashion. He shuddered. "What a baby you are!" she teased, "It can't be that bad, lots of people like it."

"Then they are indeed welcome to it, for I find it far too sweet!" again he grimaced.

"Try this one then." she suggested holding up a different type of bag by its little string. "This one's Fennel."

Vincent smiled. "Yes I like that one."

"You do?" she asked and he nodded his agreement. "Well I don't," he was told "It tastes foul!"

Teasing her in return with her own words he told her, "Lots of people like it Catherine. It cannot be so terrible!"

Accepting the Fennel tea he quietly sipped, whilst she drank the Earl Grey, just as he had known she would. When they had both finished, she picked up the tray and carried it into the kitchen. He followed her, then stood watching her as she washed the mugs, and put them back on the tray. Opening the cupboard, she struggled to reach the top shelf almost swinging from the door in an attempt to grow the few inches she needed to reach the shelf.

Catherine heard Vincent chuckle, so she picked up the tea towel and threw it at him, missed, and almost fell.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked.

"I'm trying to reach that tin box on the top shelf. What did you think I was trying to do - fly?"

Again he laughed "That thought had crossed my mind Catherine!"

He reached above her head with an easy movement, then with a smug grin he handed her the square tin. He groaned as she opened it to reveal a very wide assortment of the grandest sounding teas, and prayed she wasn't expecting him to sample them all. Next, she opened the door of the refrigerator to take out a large bowl of salad which she set on the unit top next to the tray.

Vincent looked around the small kitchen. He was fascinated, as always, by the many gadgets. He was still unsure as to the purpose of some of them.

As Catherine washed her hands she asked him, "Switch the kettle on again will you?"

He did as he had been asked. Catherine turned from the sink and began flicking the water from the ends of her fingers into his face, tormenting him unmercifully. He caught her hands in his own and moved them behind her back.

She found it impossible to move and she tried to reach for his mouth but she was much too short and he leaned back keeping her away.

"You're not playing fair!" she insisted." How can I reach you if you keep dodging away."

Still in the same playful mood, he lifted her up onto the work surface where their eyes met at the same level. She wound her arms around his neck just as the kettle started to boil. He reached for the switch.

"Leave it," she whispered, as her lips crept across his face towards his mouth. "It turns itself off, Vincent!"

Small white teeth nibbled his lower lip. Then the pressure of her lips, her insistent tongue, forced his mouth open and the fire spread through his body with lightning speed. Pulling away from him, she said, "I think it's time to eat."

Picking up the salad bowl, she set it on her knee, legs swinging. Twice she managed to kick him, so he parted her knees and stood between them.

Reaching into the tin box she asked him, "Well, which is it to be this time?"

He shook his head and an amused grin spread across his face lighting up his eyes.

"What do you suggest Catherine?

"It depends on what you feel you need. I've got Camomile, I think it's supposed to help you sleep."

In answer, he dropped his chin onto his chest and began to make snoring noises.

She gave him a gentle push. "There's a lot of different fruity ones, and minty ones, I think those are supposed to give your spirits a bit of a lift.

He started looking through the small boxes. "What's this one supposed to do?"

"You don't need that one, believe me Vincent!" she said, as she took the small packet clearly marked 'Ginseng' from him.

He took it back. "It does look very interesting. Perhaps Father would like to try it Catherine. Should I take some for him?"

She started giggling and as she raised her head to look into his eyes, she saw the bright twinkle she had come to know so well.

"You're teasing me, Vincent Wells. You're not fair."

"Yes I am," he insisted. "I'm very fair, so are you, neither of us has dark hair Catherine. I cannot think why you should say I am not fair."

She lunged at him and sunk her teeth into his ear. He gave a small startled gasp and tried to pull back, but she held on.

When she finally let go, she told him," Vincent, there are some distinct advantages to being the same height. I think I could get used to this."

She popped a piece of tomato into his mouth and a radish into her own, next she began to feed him the prawns and cucumber. He turned and walked out of the kitchen leaving a bewildered-looking Catherine sitting on the unit. Within moments, he had returned with a footstool, placed it on the floor in front of her, switched the kettle back on for the tea and stepped up onto the stool.

"That is much better Catherine. Somehow I enjoy looking down on you and keeping those sharp little teeth away from my ears, my neck and anywhere else they can reach."

"You coward!" she teased. "Are you trying to tell me you're afraid of me?"

"Perhaps," the velvet tones whispered. "But being the same height does have at least one advantage."

Stepping back onto the floor. he pushed the stool away with his foot and came back to stand between her knees.

"And what might that be?" she asked, as she popped another prawn into his mouth.

"This," was all he said, as he put his arms around her body, pulled her to the edge of the worktop, then took the bowl from her hands and laid it down beside her.

Catherine realised where this was leading, what could she do?

Having spent so much time tormenting him, she knew he had decided it was time to put their 'teasing games' aside.

Swiftly he untied the belt of her robe, and opened it, then eased it off her shoulders to lie around her on the hard work surface. Long sensitive fingers trailed from wrists to neck, then down her back, the nerves lying just beneath the surface of her skin tingled in response.

Gazing into his eyes, Catherine saw the deep blue fire she had come to know so well over the past months. Gathering her to him, he held her tightly, the soft lips at her throat burning into her soul.

Somewhere, in the distance of the room, a noise distracted her, he released her only momentarily, his hands moving to the fastenings of his trousers, then she realised the kettle was boiling.

"Vincent," she whispered.

"Mm?" he took her back into his arms.

"Listen," she said.

"Mmm?" He positioned her at the edge of the unit.

"The kettle's boiling," she insisted.

"Did you not say it would switch itself off?"

"Mmm," she agreed, as he took possession of her mouth and body in the same breathtaking moment.

It was a tender, gentle joining, their equality of height making so many subtle differences. There was no need for heads to be raised or lowered as lips and tongues teased and pleased.

She nuzzled into his neck, nibbled his ear, as the easy rhythm of their lovemaking began to take on an urgency not present earlier. Mounting desire quickened their pace taking them to a fiery, passionate climax, which left them clinging to each other in breathless wonder.

Vincent pulled the towelling robe back over her shoulders, then carried her into the lounge to lay her gently on the couch. He disappeared into the bedroom and the bathroom beyond. Catherine used this time to get back into her bathrobe. When he returned, the cloak he carried told her he would go.

Vincent looked sad as he explained, "I know it is early yet, but I have promised to take over Kanin's watch tonight. Luke is still no better and Olivia hasn't slept for the past three nights. Tonight Kanin will sit with Luke, whilst his wife sleeps in one of the guest chambers."

Catherine looked at the clock "But Vincent, it's only 8:30!"

"Then I must hurry, the watch begins at 9." He walked to the door, then out onto the balcony.

Catherine followed him noticing he gently touched the Jasmine as he passed. Coming up behind him, she broke off a small stem of the yellow flowers and handed it to him.

"Just a reminder Vincent," she said, smiling "Of the time you saw and tasted Jasmine in the evening."

ORCHIDS

Deep throated sensual mouth,

Exotic, vibrant enticement,

Soft, inviting, textured flesh,

Satin and silk combined.

You draw my fingers,

I touch,

In wonder,

Then I find you only

A magnificent fake.

You only imitate

Her exquisite mouth,

Her stunning beauty,

Her soft skin,

Her promise.

Let all men marvel at you,

I shall not,

For each night I hold the body

God modelled you on.

ORCHIDS AT NIGHT

It seemed only a few months ago that Vincent had found her naked in the middle of her bedroom, caught fast in a terrible nightmare. A nightmare which was to change their lives forever. That night they became lovers, and the night which followed found her in his bed and his arms for the first time. She could not believe that was a year ago tonight.

She spent so little time here now. Only working Above three days a week had changed so many things. Yet Catherine knew the time was nearing when even three days would be three too many.

Vincent had reluctantly agreed to take her to hear the concert. His experience of  "modern music" was limited, and what little he had heard gave him no reason to rejoice in a full evening of its sounds. Their usual special seats awaited them, just beneath the front row, and Catherine did so want to go, he had finally said yes.

As this was an important celebration, Catherine had bought a new dress, chosen with great care. She knew it would please him.

He always loved the soft texture of velvet. It might not be practical for Below, but the effect of its richness on Vincent was a delight to her. The crimson fabric fell in deep soft folds around her ankles, the neckline was very plain, a traditional "V" shape but plunging almost to her waist at both back and front. Catherine was well aware of the effect this dress would have on any man. She smiled as she thought of the fire she would find in his approving gaze.

Subtle fingers of anticipation began to work their way into her own feelings of excitement and happiness from Vincent. She knew he was waiting for her at the basement entrance. He was half an hour early and a mental picture formed of him pacing, waiting for her to take those first steps down to him. From the closet she took a white silk shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders to cover the low neckline of the dress, and left the apartment for the world she now saw as her own.

Vincent did indeed pace the tunnel, waiting for the woman he loved. Tonight was so special and he wanted everything to be perfect. How fortunate he had been that Lena's boy friend worked at the local flower shop. When he asked about the possibility of something for Catherine, he had not expected the magnificent white orchids she had brought. Now they sat in the chamber waiting for Catherine. Lena had done her sums the moment Vincent made this request. No-one needed to tell her how special this occasion was, she knew it had been just a year since Vincent and Catherine had started sleeping in the same bed.

His mind was drawn to Catherine as she neared. He could even feel her reach out to move the boxes which hid the door giving access to the tunnels. Their bond was something to marvel at, and since they had become lovers, it had deepened beyond all belief. Now there were times when he could almost hear her thoughts. Vincent watched as she descended the iron rungs set in the wall, and she stood before him. He could say nothing. Why did the first sight of her always rob him of words and make him doubt she was real?

Three short steps divided them and Catherine closed the gap at once. He took her into his hold, hearing the contented sigh as his arms encircled her slender body and she snuggled up against his chest. Lifting her head, she sought his mouth and the kiss was warm and tender, leaving them wanting far more. Vincent broke the silence first.

"We must stop at our chamber on the way, Catherine. I have a small gift for you."

She did not answer as he placed his arm about her shoulder guiding her into the main tunnels. She leaned into his hold as her arm slid around his waist and they walked along the dimly lit passages to their chamber.

At ease within the familiarity of the room they now shared, Catherine sat in the huge chair with her eyes closed, as he had asked her to.

"You may open your eyes now Catherine," the soft whisper informed her.

She gasped at the two white orchids he held out to her. As she took them from his hand, he offered her a tiny pin. He had thought of everything. Removing the shawl to pin the flowers on her dress, she heard his indrawn breath, a reaction to her carefully planned appearance.

Smiling she told him, "These are beautiful Vincent!"

Shaking his head, he answered, "No Catherine, you are beautiful, the orchids copy your loveliness."

Fire blazed in his eyes and it almost drew her to him, but she resisted the temptation of all he could, and would offer her. Once again, it was he who broke the growing tension with the soft reminder, "We had better go now or we shall be late."

Holding out her hand, she stood and he took it. Together, they walked through tunnels and caverns until they settled themselves in their unique seats just as the concert began.

With amusement, Catherine noticed the slight frown on his face. She had failed to make him understand the differences between the more modern pieces that he had been used to. He saw today's music as being the sounds which drifted up to him as whisperings when he stood listening on the bridge. Most of the city's sounds he heard were the noisy strident tones of rock and heavy metal. She doubted he had ever heard the softer haunting melodies she loved. Above them the quiet descended, Vincent held out his arm and she cuddled up close. The music started and she watched Vincent's face change and soften as a piano began to play, "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes".

The unseen pianist continued with his selection of well chosen pieces and she knew the man by her side was becoming more and more involved with every passing note. Someone announced a singer she had never heard of.

Vincent gave her a questioning look and she shrugged her shoulders. As a soft introduction filtered through the iron grating, the gentle mellow voice began. His first choice, "When A Man Loves A Woman", the old Percy Sledge number caught them both within its lyrics. Then followed "Suddenly". As the words began to find a place in their hearts, Catherine looked at Vincent. Deepest blue twinkled in the half-light, his eyes turned to hers and held them captive. So many emotions collided within him and all of them as a result of her nearness.

The music changed and Vincent listened intently as the words of "Lady In Red" surrounded them. He reached for the hem of her dress and caught the rich velvet between his fingers as he said, "You even dressed for the occasion my love."

"I always try to please Vincent, but listen to the words. If I am to be your lady in red, then we should be dancing," she told him, with such a very mischievous grin, then proceeded to pull him to his feet.

He stood quite willingly and took her in his arms. In time with the languid beat of the music, they moved around the small space. His hand, resting at her back, tightened with infinite slowness, as the soft melodies merged. Song followed song and they danced on, the gentle tempo changed as the words of a different song began to reach them. Catherine began to sing, almost to herself, "Oh my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch, a long lonely time."

As she lifted her face, she saw the flare of passion in the eyes which gazed back. The intense desire she found there silenced her. One arm rested on his shoulder and she drew in the other to lie against his chest. His strong arms enfolded her body, hands began to move in firm strokes up and down her spine, which left her tingling from head to foot. His lips touched her hair, her face, her neck. He pressed her against the length of his body and she burned!

The crimson velvet slipped off one pale inviting shoulder, and his mouth covered the exposed skin. Each hungry touch of his mouth made Catherine tremble, her emotions returning to him added to his own desire and bathed him in searing flames only she could extinguish.

"Oh, Catherine, why is it the merest touch of your cool flesh turns mine to fire?"

"Does it?" she whispered breathlessly.

"It always has. Your skin is so soft, so pale, so beautiful. My lips long to travel amongst the contours of your body. My hands yearn to follow the course of my mouth's journey."

The words flowed as he spoke of the intimacies they shared, the lips teased, the hands moved. A kiss here, a touch there and Catherine found herself lost in him. Her head whirled. His words caressed her soul just as his hands caressed her body, never silent, never still.

Now the music seemed to come from inside her, the space they moved in became hot and airless. Everything around her blurred, only the smouldering eyes stayed in focus. She fought to breathe, to move, to speak and realised she was no longer in control of her own body. Then her slender frame began to tremble as her body screamed for release from this exquisite torture.

Suddenly, he stopped moving, a look of wonder came into the adoring eyes. Realisation of what was about to happen hit them both in the same moment. He took her waiting mouth with his own, and then the all-consuming fire flowed swiftly through them both, as she shook with the intensity of her climax.

Vincent reeled as the force of her release engulfed him He threw back his head, gasping for air as she clung tightly to his clothing. Staggering backwards he leaned against the wall, only knowing Catherine could not stand unless he held her, to find he was not able to support even his own weight. Almost in slow motion he slid down the wall, to sit on the floor with Catherine lying between his legs. He drew in lungfulls of air desperately trying to regain his balance.

Stunned by the effect his lips and his hands had produced in Catherine, he could only sit and watch her fight for breath. Reaching out he pulled her into his arms and held her.

Catherine had been surprised at her response, but Vincent sat disbelieving, yet knowing no-one else had ever made this woman he held feel or react like that before.

Her wonder and joy reverberated through his being, and he smiled. A new feeling of satisfaction crept into him with the knowledge that he had brought this ecstatic experience to his love.

As he looked down at her she lifted her head expectantly. It was as if she waited for him to say something, but what could he say? The silence seemed to last for hours but it can only have been moments.

Still at a loss to understand he said, "Catherine... I believe ..... that you....."

"Yes" she told him breathlessly. "I wouldn't have thought it possible."

"But it did happen," he whispered softly, sounding far more confident.

"Oh yes, Vincent it definitely did!"

Catherine still seemed uncoordinated, so as soon as he was able he lifted her into his arms and laid her amongst the cushions, where she would be more comfortable, then he held her to him again. Not another word was spoken as they listened to the rest of the evenings programme, but so many of the words re-kindled the embers within them.

The very last piece found them lost in each other, as he bent his head their lips met in an exchange which awoke again the urgent need they shared and the very last words they heard were, "Here I am, take me in your arms, and love me".

Lifting her from the ground he carried her back to their chamber. Twice he paused, on their hurried journey, to kiss her, then hurried on, the candles guttering in his wake. Meeting no-one, their progress was rapid and they soon crossed the threshold of the room they would finish this night of celebrations in, their bedroom.

Gently, he laid her on the bed, then began to remove his clothing, as he always did, with infinite care.

Catherine sat up. She removed the two white orchids from her dress.

"Is there something I can put these in Vincent?" she asked.

Half dressed and saying nothing, he disappeared to return only moments later with a small glass vase containing water, which he handed to her. Clearing a space on the shelf behind the bed she placed the flowers where they could both see them, then she got off the bed.

By this time, Vincent had undressed. As she looked at the powerful, naked body of this magnificent man, she found the colour rising to her cheeks. Even her soul ached for the touch of his hands.

With almost a saunter, he crossed the room to her, reached behind her and slowly pulled down the zip at the back of her dress. The weight of the fabric took it straight to the floor. Beneath she wore only an ivory silk teddy.

For a few moments he stood gazing at her in wonder, then he knelt in front of her. Reaching up, he slipped first one strap off her shoulder, then the other, his long fingers lingering lovingly on the soft shoulders, caressing the satin of her skin. As his hands slid the silk down her body to lie at her feet, again the skin his lips trailed across burned. Nipples hardened, and as he teased them between his soft lips, she moaned his name, but he made no sound. Hands now parted her thighs with a tenderness which seemed at odds with the wide palms and the long claw-tipped fingers.

It was pure joy and as he nuzzled into those warm depths Catherine felt weak. "Please Vincent!" was all she whispered, but he knew her flesh ached to feel the thrust of his.

He carried her back to the bed, settling her by his side. Then his lips continued their torment until she could stand no more. Again she pleaded with him for a deeper penetration than his tongue could offer. This time he could not refuse.

The heat of her body drew him with its compelling force, and as he entered her hungry depths, he felt her relax beneath him. Now there was only time and each other, only the need to satisfy and be satisfied, now there was only love. Gently, their joining lifted them to realms of soft sensuality, together they explored the intimacies of their passion.

Much later and in that place of deepest joy few find, they lay quietly in the dim amber glow. As she curled into his hold to sleep, she smiled at the slim glass vase which held the two white orchids.

At her back his soft steady breathing told her he had begun the peaceful journey of rest before her. Catherine marvelled how at ease he seemed whenever she was near and remembered days, only a year ago, when all this appeared out of reach. Her mind travelled back to another night when, looking at the same spot, she had seen daisies. Now it was orchids and she could not help but think how these floral offerings mirrored the pattern of their lovemaking.

The simple white daisies had been there the first time she had slept in his arms after they had loved, when the simplicity of their joining had been as those fresh white petals. Now it was the orchids which gazed back in exotic, wild beauty, telling a sensual story of all that their intimacies held.

Yes, it had all started with the daisies and they had been a delight, but for the rest of their life together, their passion would always be as orchids at night.

END