Her Hero (5 page)

             
Spinning round she forgot to be mad with him as she looked on at his bare chest. So close the heat and power from his broad expanse warmed her skin. His tanned flesh was all she could see and instinctively her hand raised to touch him. Only the hiss of his inhale stopped her and he took a step back.

             
“The press have been camped outside all night.”

             
Reality flooded back watching his tightly controlled expression give no emotion away.

             
How could he be so controlled when she was dripping with desire. It wasn’t fair, she thought as he took her hand and led her to a warm impersonal room full of creams and beiges.

             
Sitting on a sofa she watched an anonymous butler set tea and toast next to the condiments on a glass coffee table in front of them.

             
“Thank you Sam.” She watched as Horatius served her and they both drank without further discussion.

             
“That table looks lethal.” His confusion was about half of what Stacy felt at her own statement. Having no idea why she was talking about decor, when her world was changing all around her, she laughed nervously.

             
“Actually it is, I’ve caught my shin on it many times.” Horatius was looking at her with a sincerity that reminded her of the man beneath the control. “I hate it.” He even seemed surprised by his own admission.

             
Taking her hand he absently rubbed his thumb over her palm. “I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

             
“I’ll be fine. I would just rather not leave wearing last night’s clothes.” Stacy pulled her hand away with the pretense of helping herself to a piece of toast. She wasn’t hungry and the triangle slice sat absently in her hand.

             
“So you still intend to leave.” Frustration vibrated from each word. Horatius stood and began his pacing. “Sam was just about to pick up your things.”

             
Stacy remembered belatedly that she had given Horatius her keys last night, while she watched him pace.

             
“You do that a lot.” At his confusion Stacy clarified,  “Pace.”

             
“Only with you. I normally get what I want. I seem to have to fight for you.” He stopped pacing as if he had slipped up and he looked startlingly at her. “I mean, with you.” He corrected himself.

             
Stacy smiled behind her toast unable to resist the melting of her anger.

             
“I’m still angry with you, but you were just trying to help me.” Placing down the toast she stood next to him. “I don’t like losing control, just as much as you. I don’t like depending on others. But, it’s not all bad.” She reached up and did what she had wanted to do since turning in the hall, and placed her hands on his chest.

             
The heat almost seared her fingertips. She stepped closer automatically as her breath quickened.

             
She felt his heart speed up as his muscles rose and fell increasingly under her palm. Her eyes traveled from his navel up over hard ridges until she met the clenching chords in his neck.

             
They seemed to gravitate towards each other. His gaze turned intense and she heard a deep rumbling growl from his mouth. Stacy knew she was lost when she felt his hands encircle her.

             
Slapping him hard on the chest she pulled away enough to gasp out, “I still won’t be your mistress.” Before he drove her back to the brink.

***

Stacy never did leave that day or the next, or the next. A full week passed as they went about each day as if they had been together all their lives. Mornings rolled in. He read the paper and she helped Sam in the kitchen, to give Horatius something different from dry toast. She loved to sit back watching the City roll by during their trip to work. Talking about benign things such as what they would have for dinner or something they had watched the previous night on TV.

             
At work, Horatius was the definition of professional and Stacy’s initial worry over staff gossip and working with Horatius passed within days and new gossip took over.

             
However, in the evening it was becoming ever increasingly difficult to curb the passion, that emanated from every look. Every brush and as for the kisses, Stacy sighed.

             
She looked across at Horatius sprawled on the sofa finishing a deal in another time zone. Remembering the previous night and just how far things had gone, on that sofa, sent a blush to her cheek. Yet Stacy was no closer to discovering the man underneath the persona and she feared another kissing session, would lead her to regret falling for someone she didn’t truly know. Although she was afraid of getting close she felt driven by a force out with her control, to get close to him and not just physically.

The weekend came at last and Stacy anticipated it as much as she dreaded it. No work distractions, no time apart. Would the conversation die a slow painful death, she worried at her lip, sitting opposite Horatius while he read the paper.

             
“Do you want to go shopping?” He asked not looking up from the business sheets.

             
Stacy picked her reply carefully and made it vague, “Maybe.”

He did look up then and his puzzled look made her laugh. It was so rare to see him confused, it truly was funny.

              His look didn’t last as he lifted a brow and set the paper aside. “I ask because I had hoped you were free to come with me.”

             
“To where?” She didn’t know why she was asking. He could be going to Timbuktu and she would go with him.

             
“No where in particular. The park perhaps.” She could hear the ticking of the oven clock as the air thickened. “But if you want to shop, I will get the security to go with you.”

             
“No!” She practically jumped off her seat in answer. “No. That’s okay, I don’t need to shop and I was kind of looking forward to some time without my shadows behind me.”

             
The past week had consisted of Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum following her like her own shadow and her nicknames were becoming increasingly insulting. Horatius seamed to be amused by her eloquent descriptions but she felt the rotating bodyguards were becoming disenchanted.

             
“So it’s settled. You, me, park, minus the heavies.” Relieved Stacy leaned over and nabbed the paper from him and bit into her toast, strangely looking forward to such a mundane thing, as a walk through a park.

***

The sun was shining despite the crisp wind but stacy didn’t care. Her hand was looped in Horatius's arm and she was listening to him talk. They were playing guess who. Childishly people watching and guessing their backgrounds, she was loving it.

             
“No they are definitely not married. Look no ring.” As she squinted she felt his ribs undulate with laughter. When Stacy looked at him he said, “You could try to be a bit more discreet.”

             
“Okay what about him.” They both looked across at a man, who could have been Horatius sitting on a bench, while a young boy swung from monkey bars imploring him to ‘look’.

             
Horatius deviated to a side path that took them away from the young boy and what she assumed was his father.

             
“Hey. You giving up?”

             
He didn’t answer straight away but when he did it was with a deadened tone that chilled her.

             
“Too easy.”

             
“Do you want to fill me in?” Stacy asked.

             
Horatius came to a stop next to a bench secluded by surrounding trees and bushes. It was a wind break so Stacy sat feeling like she had just surrendered to the eye of the storm.

             
“The boys about seven. He worships his dad,” A hollow laugh punched through the stillness, “In about a year the boy will give up asking for his attention. By the age of nine, he will have a better relationship with the cleaner than he does with his father. He will tell himself, not to expect his father at sports day or for the award he worked so hard for. And as time goes on, the boy will run out of excuses for his fathers absence. The apologies and the, ‘I’m working so you can have more opportunities than I did’, will dry up as well. And he will convince himself that he doesn’t care but by now he is fourteen and staying out all night. After all, there is no one parenting him to say otherwise. And now he is selling ecstasy at school but he’s doing so well he decides to ditch school and branch out.”

             
He paused from his distant reiteration as Stacy gasped. A self mocking nod was his only answer then he sat next to her.

             
“Oh yeah. I was in up to my eyes. He’s seventeen now and already been arrested several times, but what does that matter with a rich father to bail him out. Or should I say his father’s lawyer, as old pops is away on business.” He seemed to peter out while an old memory flashed across his eyes.

             
Stacy reached out to his still hand.

             
“What happened then?”

             
“Military school. Totally shit but it was only for a year and it stopped me from going to juvie or jail. Don’t think it was my dad’s idea. He wasn’t interested,” Horatius sat taller and pursed his lips attempting an impersonation, “‘I don’t care what your into. If you want to waste your life, that’s up to you. Just keep it out of the press.’ No it was Anna that asked me to go.”

             
Stacy was insanely jealous of Anna and yet eternally grateful, “Anna?”

             
“The house keeper, to all intents and purposes. Yet so much more. She passed away the year after my father died. But by then I had my shit together.” He smiled slyly “Kind of. Just in time to take over the business and make Anna proud of me.”

             
Stacy was struck by an answering sorrow rutted in loss and loneliness. Tucking closer into his side they sat in silence as joggers passed on the other side of their sanctuary. Dogs rambled and children's screeches could be heard in the distance.

             
“What about your mum?” She wasn’t sure why she was pushing it but Stacy felt she needed to know him completely.

             
“Took off when I was two. Guess she couldn’t stand...” He left the last for Stacy to guess. Couldn’t stand his father, him? She couldn’t imagine a situation that would lead a woman to leave her child but then she only had her parents as an example.

             
Reading her thoughts Horatius said “I’m sorry for your loss.”

             
Stacy didn’t even question how he knew but just squeezed his hand in answer because she didn’t trust her voice.

             
“I take it, it was an accident? The report simply said they had died, on the same day.”

             
“Car Crash.” She wasn’t going to say more but she found herself wanting to tell him.

             
“Drunk driver. He died too. I think if he hadn’t, I would have killed him.” It felt like a release to say those words. Stacy hadn’t talked to anyone about it, ever, and she wondered why.

             
“My dad was in the MOD so we moved around a lot. I sat my GCSE’s in two locations. It never really bothered me, ‘coz I had my mum and dad. Sad, I know, but they were my best friends. I made some friends over the years but either they or I lost touch. Too much moving around, not enough effort or just plain old, growing apart. When my parents died I just carried on living that life. The life of a nomad.” She smiled, shrugging her shoulders, hoping he wouldn’t make too much out of her confession.

             
A flash of light blistered through the bushes distracting Horatius from his reply. Standing quickly he pulled Stacy with him as she glimpsed two figures cloaked in black running through the thick trees.

             
Horatius was on his feet in an instant pulling Stacy behind him as they moved to run in the opposite direction.

             
“Damn Paparazzi!” Stacy wondered if Horatius was right. She had rather thought the press had moved on due to the dwindling numbers of camera’s camped outside the house.

             
Just as abruptly Horatius stopped and turned as Stacy collided with him. His form rigid he was squinting through the greenery. He took a step towards the retreating figures but hesitated looking down at were Stacy’s hand lay in his. She felt a pang of fear. Not entirely sure that feeling was all her own, she clung closer to his body and his eyes found hers.