I was woken by Terry nuzzling up to me as I lay wrapped in the covers. I groaned at the early hour and tried to bury myself further down, but he rolled me over. He was just out of the shower, wearing silk boxers, smelling of shower gel, aftershave, cologne....aftershave?  I raised myself up sharply and pushed the hair from my eyes. Terry was leaning back on the pillow, smiling, rubbing his smooth and closely shaved face with his hand

"What do you reckon?" He pulled me against him and rubbed his chin on my face and then burrowed down, opening the front of my little cotton PJs to nuzzle my breasts. Smooth skin.

"Where's your beard?" I gasped, recognition dawning on me.

He smirked and looked up. "Gone. Now you get the benefit of my smooth, manly jaw..."

"Aww, Terry, I loved you with that beard! You looked so gorgeous..."

He shook his head. "I saw the looks at JFK. He's been on talk shows all over. They think I'm him. The creep had to copy my style so I'm reclaiming the real me. Sharp shave, sharp suit, sharp haircut. You know you love me best like this..."

I giggled. "You have such a tip about yourself, Terry Thorne. I have never met such a...an adorable bastard as you in my life. I'm sure Russell Crowe will be devastated when he finds out that he got the look wrong. Again."

He gave me a last squeeze; I inhaled his clean fresh smell and then he jumped out of bed to answer the door and let room service in to deliver breakfast. I saw the young waitress give him a once over and I reckon she thought she had caught Russell in his skivs. She paled and went all girly as he signed the tab and handed her a tip. She'll never spend that note.

"I'll be tied up all day. Sort yourself out for lunch. Meet you late afternoon at the Plaza coffee house. I'll treat you to a cuppa." Terry announced from behind the newspaper as he took breakfast in the suite. I staggered around, yawning, still somewhat jetlagged after the flight, stretching and rubbing my eyes. "You be OK?"

I grunted in response and helped myself to a piece of toast, leaning over his shoulder to read the news. He pulled away. "I hate it when you read over my shoulder. Go and sit down. Eat your breakfast."

I tutted and flopped down in the chair. What happened to romance? 

"So what's the plan for today?" He threw across with a patronizing smile. OK- I'm being a bit harsh on him but it was eight in the morning and I could have slept for hours except he had been breezing around since what felt like dawn.

"I have a lunch appointment," I replied. 

"One of the girls?"

"No."

I noticed he stopped, rustling the newspaper. "Who do you know in New York?"

I smeared apricot jam on a piece of toast and bit into it. "No one."

"Then...who are you seeing for lunch?"

"A friend who's passing though New York. He's got a meeting with his boss and then he flies out to Yugoslavia tonight." The newspaper was lowered and I was rewarded with Terry's full attention.

"Maximus?"

Let me recap. Terry was in New York for a week at the office for a series of meetings and briefings. There were various operatives arriving back or heading out and Dino was overseas so he couldn't step in. As Terry wasn't playing James Bond this week, he had decided that I could come for a trip. Autumn in New York and I could get some decent shopping, see the sights and visit the galleries. Evenings we could spend together, catch a few shows and get away from the mundane existence of our usual life these days.

"Maximus? You contacted Maximus behind my back?"

"No. I posted an invite to lunch on his thread and he replied. I believe that is the way it is done. Did I get that wrong? Isn't that what you did last time you had a jolly?"

He cleared his throat and took a drink of tea. "He's flying out early evening."

"I know. What are you implying?"

"Nothing. Just letting you know." He watched my reaction, his tongue between his lips. I counted to ten.

"I have to talk to him, Terry. It's about time."

He nodded. "You do that. Make sure he understands this time." And he raised the newspaper and carried on as if nothing had happened. I pulled my tongue out behind the paper and stuck two fingers up on both hands and then mouthed "Fuck off, you bastard!" I felt a little better. Until I saw his middle finger. Raised. What does he do, cut holes in the paper so he can see me?

I stood up to walk past him but he caught my hand and whirled me onto his knee. "Last night...I was tired. Make it up to you tonight?"

I chucked his chin. "Last night, I was tired. I'd have kneed you in the ghoolies if you'd come near. But tonight sounds just right. It's a date." We kissed. I love the bastard. What can I say?

With a grin, he sauntered off to the bathroom and got ready. Ten minutes later, he was out of the door, leaving me with a grin and a "You be good today, you hear?" I put my elbows on the table and buried my head in my hands. Maximus. Oh boy, Maximus.

He had emailed me with the name of a restaurant and a time. Here I was. Twelve thirty, on time for once and feeling so nervous I thought I would throw up. Again. The maitre d' hurried over and challenged me as if I was some sort of urban terrorist. I gave the name and he checked. Max wasn't here yet but our table was ready so he led me over. I ordered a mineral water and sat watching the diners. It wasn't like him to be late.

Just then I realized he was entering the restaurant and I mentally started. Gone was the image I carried in my head of the casually dressed Maximus, gentleman farmer, with his jeans, flannel shirts and his goatee beard. The Maximus who strode in was far closer to the imposing general of the film, albeit dressed for success. He fair took my breath away.

Now sporting a full beard, neatly trimmed, and his hair shorter than I remembered it, Maximus was resplendent in a grey suit and silk tie, a black wool over coat casually over the whole, worn open, with a dark grey scarf hanging loose. He was wearing leather gloves and carrying a cell phone. So he was a K and R man now, was he, corporate image to the fore, a company man?

He had seen me and was heading my way, a smile forming on his lips, his eyes missing nothing. I shrank slightly from the intensity of his gaze. As he approached I stood up; it seemed natural to do so in his presence.

"Ummidia!"

"Maximus!"

He leaned over and kissed my lips softly, his right hand brushing my hair from my face.

"You look a little pale. Have you wrapped up well against this weather? The cold can be very biting in New York."

I sighed at his immediate desire to take control and chide me. "I was warmly clothed. I am a little tired from the journey and, if the truth were known, a little overwrought. Nothing you need worry about."

We sat down, ordered, made small talk. I refused wine; he ordered a bottle anyway. I let it pass. When the waiter withdrew, I asked him about his assignment. "Bosnia. A government minister. There are some complications so the news has been suppressed. They want an impartial negotiator. Terry wants a man who can read between the lines. This may not be all it seems..."

"Is it dangerous?"

"You need to ask? This is your man's world. Or does he spare you the details?" I could not detect from his tone whether he was being critical or if he approved of that. A change of direction seemed preferable.

"How will you cope with the language?" I asked.

"English? How many K and R men speak Serbo- Croat? I have local contacts. Actually I know the area well. I was stationed there for several years. Dalmatian coastline. I expect it may have changed somewhat." He grinned suddenly and I joined in.

"I expect so but...same dodgy locals, I'm sure." He nodded and chuckled.

"Take care." He took my hand and squeezed it in his large palm.

"Have no fear. I am not interested in heroics these days. I just want to do the job and prove myself."

"Will it be a long haul?"

"Who knows? I hope not, but I am prepared for it if necessary. And Terry is on hand. I value his advice."

"Good luck. With the job and Terry." At that he laughed and shook his head, playing with the stem of his wine glass. He offered me some but I refused, covering my glass with my hand. "I need to get over this jetlag. I'm not drinking."

The meal passed pleasurably; two old friends with much to catch up on. If I had been nervous, then that soon passed off. Maximus is such an interesting man; I forgot the awkwardness that I had anticipated and we chatted and laughed freely as once we had taken for granted.

Lunch over, tab paid (he refused my insistence that he charge it to expenses. I knew he wouldn't take a woman out on the firm's money. And take the boss's wife out in those circumstances? No way.) For a while we sat on at the table, both of us with more to say but not sure how to broach the subject. Suddenly Maximus stood up.

"If you are warmly wrapped up- how would you like to walk in the Park?" 

I beamed my answer at him. He took my hand and we walked to the door. Our overcoats were brought; Max held mine as I put it on and he wrapped it round me before donning his own. We gloved up and wound scarves, ready for the November chill, before setting out onto the blustery pavement. Crossing the road, his hand firmly round mine, I luxuriated in the sense of being with a man such as he. Strength and honour, courage and valour, power and control - qualities that made me love him and hate him all at the same time. Does he realize how he makes a woman feel? One moment I feel like a woman in his presence and then I feel as if I have lost my identity and independence. He throws me off my normal responses and interferes with the mechanisms I have for dealing with men.

Leaves swirled around our feet as we stepped into the park, a kaleidoscope of autumn, red, yellow, gold, brown, rusty colours as the summer bled away to winter. Another year had almost passed. It was twelve months since I first met Terry. I wondered if he remembered the date. A year ago today, at the other side of the world, on a warm fragrant tropical night....Where would I be a year hence from today?

"You are distracted. Tell me your thoughts." Maximus's serious tone broke into my musings. I pulled the scarf tighter and then took his right hand in both of my own and looked him deep in the eyes.

"I want to tell you something..." 

I told him and he listened gravely without betraying his emotions. He did not protest or disagree or appear to approve or even disapprove. His manner was acceptance. If this is what I wanted and had decided, then he would make no counter.

"Are you happy?" I nodded. "Then, so am I. Take care of yourself. If you need me, I will only be at the end of a phone line. Remember that. Always."

"What did you wish to tell me, Maximus?" I had had a strong feeling that there was something in his manner that suggested he wished to confide in me. Perhaps I was wrong.

"Nothing. I merely wished to spend some time with you before I flew out. I am glad we found this closure after the unfortunate events at the Temple. I understand what happened there now."

We strolled on hand-in-hand and in silence, sunk in thoughts we did not share. I plucked up the courage to say what I knew I must say now; I would not have him in doubt any longer. "If all goes well...next year...I would like a proper visit with you."

"I thought you were removing me your from my list?" He smiled, playfully.

"I forgot. And anyway...what does that matter? I can see any Brother I choose as long as he is agreeable."

"He will be agreeable. He will never try to force you but he will be there if you call him. This I know." He bowed his head slightly, a gesture from his far off past. I remembered why I longed for him so. But not yet. Not yet.

A feeling of light and playfulness suddenly possessed me; I ran ahead and climbed up on a monument, swinging from it with one arm, giddy and full of a joie de vivre. Maximus sprang after me and hauled me off, holding me in his arms and returning me to the ground gently. My mood infected him; we kicked into piles of leaves, fed ducks on the lake and gathered chestnuts that were still lying on the ground. I guess we must have looked crazy to the young kids on skate boards or the fitness freaks jogging in their designer gear. We didn't care. All too soon we would be back in the real world and become sober responsible citizens again; if we were to spend a few hours larking about on a cold afternoon- whom did we harm?

The day was already fading as he walked me across the park back to the Hotel. At the door, we parted, he to collect his luggage and take a cab to the airport, I to afternoon tea. We stood awhile just looking at each other, hands still joined, before he leant in and kissed me- this time deeply but despite the intimacy of his kiss, somehow it was not sexual. The day would come when we would return to that bond, now I was sure of that, but, for now, we would have this. Whatever this is. It warms my heart anyway- who cares to try and identify it?

I watched him ease himself into a cab and disappear from sight, his right palm resting on the window, a sort of salute. Glowing, I turned into the elegant foyer and made my way over to the coffee house. He wasn't there yet. I ordered a pot of tea and a plate of cakes, ravenous after my walk, and began to tuck in without him. Just then a waiter leant over and handed me a box. I looked inside and read the note that lay on top of the gift.

A year ago I had never seen your face. And now it is imprinted forever on my heart.

Thank you         T.

Whilst I blinked away the tears and fondled the precious gift, Terry breezed up, clutching red roses and sporting a pleased-with-himself grin. "Thought I'd forgotten, didn't ya?" I sniffed and dabbed at my eyes. He leant over and stroked my face.

"It's all yours. Safer this way. Without a piece of paper...you have little claim on it. We have to be realistic... on the off-chance..." I placed a finger on his lips. He had transferred the deeds to the house into my name. Just in case. The words chilled my heart but I knew he was doing the right thing for us. Our first anniversary. Paper. How did he know that? That is so typical of him. Everything is addressed and all eventualities covered.

"I understand. Don't say anymore. Please." He looked at me thoughtfully, his eyes limpid, but he didn't pursue the issue. Instead I put my arms around his neck and hugged him to me. He rested his lips against my cheek and we simply acknowledged his gesture, the future and the way life had to be. I leaned back and he brushed a tear away. "You want some cake?" I whispered, indicating the plate. He pulled a face.

"Are you stuffing your face again? You just had lunch...or was Max skimping on expenses?" Terry laughed at his singularly unfunny witticism.

"I had a lovely lunch and TOL are not picking up the tab. By the way, Max looked fantastic. He was so smartly dressed..."

"I know. I had a meeting with him at ten. Quite fancied him myself," he giggled; his tongue lolled about at the side of his mouth. He is a pain. Then he started at my chocolate cake. I slapped his hands.

"Get your own! On second thoughts, don't. You're fat enough..." But he still polished it off, despite my protests.

"So, how did it go? What did he say about it?" I darted him a look but he was not trying to score points this time, he looked genuinely concerned.

"Fine. He was understanding. Very supportive. As I knew he would be." I angled my head to make the point. Terry shrugged.

"Good. One down, then. Thirty to go..." I rolled my eyes and he nicked an almond biscuit. We both grinned. "Right, drink up and let's go upstairs. I want to work up an appetite. I've got tickets for the opera and a table at Romanov's for supper. But I need some inducement to get me through two hours of Puccini. Shit load of sexual favours required. Quick march..."

Somehow he talked me into that one.