HEATHER

Euphoria.  He is coming home today.  Six weeks, four days and this morning.  An eternity.  I think I spent the whole morning at the window, watching the twisting ribbon of road on the hillside below, hoping for a glimpse of his car and jiggling about in anticipation, unable to keep still even for a moment.  Tonight, he would sleep under this roof.  Our house would have its master back.  The knowledge both excited me and settled something deep inside me.  When he's here..... it's just this feeling that all is right with the world, that everything is as it should be.  I've never felt such peace.

Sunlight glinted off the glossy paint of a car on the road below.  Red.  No, not the Gods' color.....  It was the color of the banner he served under for the whole of his adult life.  I wonder if that was a conscious choice when he bought that car?  The colors in our home were much the same.  The farmer in him had preferred to surround himself with muted earth tones, but the soldier had wanted accents of deep dark red and rich burnished gold.  I think deep in his heart, he will always serve Rome.  It's a part of who he is, ingrained in his very nature.

Even before I heard the scrape of the gate, I was dashing outside.... running to him.  Throwing myself in his arms like a child and peppering his face with kisses.  He gave me his disapproving expression even though his eyes were twinkling and I could tell he was enjoying the fact I simply couldn't restrain my joy at his arrival. 

"Inside.  None of this nonsense out here!"  His stern voice.  

But then he laughed and swung me around, giving me that superior look he has as I clung to him like a little monkey.  He didn't even put me down.  Suitcase and flowers in hand, he simply strode inside, dropped them by the door and continued straight up to our bedroom where we made rough wild love like two playful kittens who absolutely could not keep from pouncing a single moment longer.  There was scratching and biting, growling and hissing, lapping......kneading.  I think he even purred.  God knows I did. 

The aftermath made us both laugh.  There were clothes strewn about all over the room, throw pillows scattered across the floor, the sheets were ripped away from one corner of the mattress and we'd knocked over one of the lamps by the bed.  The air reeked of sex.  There was come everywhere.  I was red raw and grinning like an idiot.  His hair was all rucked up and he was sweaty and panting as he flopped back against the pillows with an obscene groan of masculine satisfaction.  He still had one sock half on, the end of which dangled from his foot like a limp noodle.  

"Whoa."  I giggled at him and he swatted my rump with the flat of his hand, sighing contentedly as he pulled me down beside his big sprawling form.  I covered his moist sticky penis with my hand and gave it a gentle pull as I sighed too.  My Bellus.  He is so very fine.  Even in utter contented disarray.  Maybe especially then.  I kissed his shoulder and let my eyes wander down his body.  He looked a little too smug at my obvious appreciation so I fluttered my eyes at him and teased.  "Wooo.... Max!  You're such a hunk," I moaned dramatically and fell over on bed next to him.

He snorted.  "A hunk of what?"

I erupted into fits of giggles.  Guess he hadn't heard that expression before.  His answer was so serious... so.......Maximus.  Or so I thought until I caught the playful glitter in his eyes.  What did I tell you?  He is the original phasmid. 

He was also just a simple man, weary from his trip and glad to be back to his home, his hearth and his woman.  I think he was probably glad to be back to his own bed as well, though he didn't say so.  He just sunk deeper into the soft covers and closed his eyes, sprawled out in a position of utter relaxation.  And shamelessly hogging most of the bed.  Nothing new there.  But where as our lovemaking had sapped the last of his reserves, it had energized me.  I felt boneless and my muscles ached but I wasn't the least bit tired.  A soft snore came from his side of the bed. 

I smothered a laugh and whispered into his ear, "Welcome home, Maxime."

His eye cracked open and he touched my arm gently with just the tip of his finger.  It was a touched infused with so much feeling.  His eyes closed.  And then he smiled.  "I want lemon ice for dinner."  And then, just when I thought he had fallen back asleep, he murmured.  "...and you for dessert."  He chuckled sleepily and turned over, rubbing his face against the covers like a tired little boy.

I pulled the dangling sock from his foot and covered him with a blanket.  "Big talk for a man who was snoring not two minutes ago."  My soft teasing fell on deaf ears; he had already fallen back to sleep.  I smiled down at him.  His quiet request had warmed my heart.  He missed the flavors and the comforts of his home.  I turned out the light but left the window open.  He likes to feel the cool air on his face as he sleeps.... and I wanted him rested.  I was looking forward to sharing a meal with him but as for that dessert he spoke of?  I fully intended to have a second helping.  And quite possibly a third as well. 

Downstairs, I couldn't help but smile.  We hadn't even shut the front door.  It was wide open and the whole house smelled of crisp fall air.  His suitcase was on its side in the front hall.  A fragrant bunch of flowers lay beside it.  Lemon blossoms.  Maximus...... he's got quite the penchant for incredibly romantic gestures.  And quite an appetite for sex as well.  I thought of him spent and sleeping upstairs and couldn't keep from smiling.  Though, I suppose the lingering feel of him under my clothes and his scent on my skin may have had something to do with it as well.

Dinner was fun.  Dessert was better.  We spent a passionate evening reacquainting ourselves as new lovers are wont to do.  We shared an evening under the stars outside in the courtyard, curled up together, sharing a cup of wine and touching each other intimately.  We talked and made love and rested and fooled around some more and then collapsed into bed, tipsy and exhausted. 

I think he made love to me again some time during the night, though the details are hazy.  I was so sleepy; both from the wine and from the aftermath of his passion.  I remember feeling the bed dip as he got up and hearing the unmistakable splashing sound of a man relieving himself.  I remember smiling.  We'd had a lot of wine.  The next thing I remember was the feel of him juddering next to me in the bed and hearing that low grunt he makes when he's deep inside his own pleasure.  And my body.  I could feel him throbbing there, spooned up behind me, fitted together as intimately as a man and woman can be.  I remember falling back to sleep with his hand in mine and the feel of rightness in my breast; a feeling of peace so deep it defies words.

The morning, however, was a different matter entirely.  He was dead to the world.  Didn't even stir when I got up to go to the bathroom.  Golden sunlight streamed into our small bedroom, falling across the crisp white sheets- that he'd shoved down in the night, revealing one powerful leg from toes to thigh and the rounded curve of his impressive backside.  I smothered a laugh at the bite mark he was sporting on his left cheek.  He was on his stomach with one leg drawn up just high enough that I could see the dark swell of his scrotum in the shadowy cleft between his legs. 

Just that quickly, desire coiled heavy and low in my belly.  It first I just watched him, unaware I'd put a hand between my legs, not rubbing..... Pressing.  Longing.  Wanting so sharply it felt like a physical ache.  I was empty and I wanted to feel that fullness only Maximus can make me feel.  Crawling on the bed, I kissed his golden shoulder and he squirmed as my hair tickled along his side.  He turned over, mostly to get away from the tickle, I think. 

Everywhere the sun touched his skin, he seemed to glow.  Every freckle, mole, imperfection.... every strand of hair, every whorl and crease....  they were luminous in that magical way that happens when the early morning sun hits them just right.  I could also see every bruise and scratch and bite, thrown into vivid relief.  I remembered making most of them.  Just as I remembered most of the ones he'd left on my body.

He made a nearly inaudible sleepy-annoyed sound and rubbed at his nipple absently before throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the brilliant patch of sunlight falling over his face and shoulders.  Most of his chest was in shadow but his groin and one leg were directly in the sunlight.  I wondered if he could feel the heat on his exposed flesh.  He was semi erect, on the way to the full erection he wakes up with most mornings.  Nature- isn't it wonderful?

I propped my chin in my palm and just looked at him.  Had he opened his eyes and caught me, I wouldn't have been embarrassed.  I think his body is beautiful.  To be honest, he and I had spent many long hours appreciating the differences between us, both in flesh and bone as well as in our more mercurial differences. 

He shifted slightly.  Dust motes swirled and glittered in the air.  I could smell him.  Musky and earthy.  I leaned in closer, studying the way the dark hairs curled around his base and following the faint tracing of veins in the thick shaft.  The moist pink head was peeping from the skin at his tip.  Not weeping fluid.  But then it wouldn't be.  He wasn't aroused.  It was a mechanical erection.  A response hardwired into his physiology.  And I'd been right about his lovemaking in the night.  He had come recently.  My thighs were glazed with it when I woke.

It made me smile.  So did watching his erection.  It bobbed lightly with his heartbeat.  I could feel it, a rhythm that throbbed between my legs.  For him it wasn't sexual.  For me, it was. 

The desire building in me spiraled higher.  I felt hot.  Itchy.  Needy.  Hungry.  I reached out a hand and stroked him in an unmistakably sexual way.  Not in tender comfort.  Not in physical appreciation.  In want.

The rhythm of his breathing changed as he woke.  He grunted softly.  I looked up and found him watching me with hooded eyes the color of sea glass.  He did not look aroused.  His expression was somewhere between amusement and annoyance.  I stilled my hand, thinking he would simply fall back to sleep, but I was too aroused to drift off.  At least, not without having an orgasm first.  I wonder what he would think of he woke and found me touching myself next to him in bed?  It was a thought that made me smile inwardly but instead, I sighed wistfully - and perhaps even with a bit of frustration- and withdrew my hand.

He caught my wrist in his steel grip, still breathing slow and even.  Just laying there, watching me.  No doubt seeing the sex flush on my skin and probably noting the other signs of my arousal as well.  I shifted uncomfortably, wanting more but aware he really wasn't in the mood.  And damn him if he didn't scoot back a little against the headboard and smile knowingly at me.  Smile!  He can be so arrogant.  I felt my arousal spiral higher.

He absently stroked my hip with his palm but other than that, he remained still.  He knew I wanted sex.  I could tell he felt lazy.  He wouldn't say no if I initiated it, but he wasn't about to do anything more than lie there.  For long moments, we simply lay there, staring at each other.  And then his languid smile got wider. 

"Do you want me?"  My face heated at his words- but despite that, desire spiked in me, hard and piercing.  I felt myself nodding.  "Use me then."  He looked down at the erection laying hard and thick against his belly.  His eyes flicked back up to mine.  "Let me watch you."

I think I whimpered.  I know I did when I sat down on him.  Hard.  Even with the residue of the previous night's lovemaking, I felt that moment that is so distinctly feminine, that little frisson of almost nausea when it's too deep too fast, a heartbeat before your body softens in welcome.  He made no sound.  His breathing didn't even change.  He simply stretched his strong arms above his head, leisurely grasping the wooden slats of our headboard in a way that clearly said he wasn't about to aide me and cocked his head.  There was a bit of a challenge there too as he waited for me to move. 

"Pleasure yourself."  He blinked slowly.  Arrogantly.  "Not many women have been allowed that chance on me."  Many?  I felt a prick of jealousy that only fueled the fire burning in me.  It made me want to move.  His words blew apart the last of my reservations and I rose and fell on him hard, using him as he'd offered.  I felt a heavy powerful man lying passively under my spread thighs.  Felt his big cock between my legs, stretching me.  And I used both to stimulate myself in a way that was only about my pleasure.  My orgasm. 

I felt wild, out of control.  I can only imagine what he saw as he lay there, detached, just watching me use his body to make mine feel so good.  For a time, he watched my face.  Watched my neck arch and my breasts bounce as I rode him.  It got wilder.  More intense as I got closer and closer to that elusive release.  Sweating.  Straining.  Gasping as I rode too hard and not hard enough. 

He was watching where we were joined.  Watching me grind down hard until you couldn't tell his pubic hair from mine and then he would stare intently as his fat cock emerged, wet and glistening before I took him in again.  And again.  And again.  And still, he didn't move.  I couldn't stand it any longer.  Dropping my hands from my body, I put them on the bed on either side of his shoulders and ground down in tight hard circles until I was no longer chasing the blast but riding it.  Crying out my pleasure as I contracted around that thick column of flesh buried so deeply inside me.  Wondering with some far away part of my brain how it felt to him even as I selfishly rocked against him, seeking to prolong the pleasure as long as I could.

I whimpered when it was over, suddenly aware I was gulping for breath and that my body was slick with sweat and passion.  As the rush of powerful euphoria faded, I felt shy and vulnerable.  I'd never done anything like that in my life.  Raising myself on shaky arms, I met his eyes.  Something dark smoldered there.  He still wasn't moving but he was no longer sleepy or detached.

He touched me then for the first time, putting both of his big hands on my hips possessively.  It was only a simple touch but it screamed of want.  I almost smiled.  A few minutes ago, it was me who wanted and him who was sleepy and lethargic.  Now it was the other way around.  But who says lovers have to come together to make it good?  I wanted to give him what he'd just given me. 

I brushed my lips against his and felt him flex inside me, hard and wanting.  "Use me, Maximus.  Pleasure yourself on me."  That dark look in his eyes became a seething rolling hunger.  "I would say that to no other man but you."

I had no warning.  He blinked.  Just once.  And then flipped us suddenly, pulling out as he knelt up over me.  I gasped at the sensation of being uncoupled from him so quickly, but he paid me as little mind as I'd paid him.  He simply pushed my legs to my chest and jerked himself a few times with his big hand, maybe because he wanted a moment just to see me spread and open for him, maybe because it just felt good.  I didn't ask.  He wouldn't have answered anyway. 

He simply pushed in with a deep groan, dropped his head and started thrusting.  Not trying to stay within any appreciable rhythm.  Not trying to give pleasure.  Not even trying to hold back for the sake of appearance.  Just a man moving how it felt best for him, in his time, on his terms.  Not trying to impress anyone by lasting a long time.  Not caring if he only lasted a few minutes.  It was all about him.  His grunts got louder.  He simply held me down and moved in a way that was only about his pleasure.  Gratification without inhibition.

Tears prickled in my eyes as his thick fingers tangled in my hair and pulled hard.  So close.  He froze for a moment and then juddered hard into me, growling a string of profanities into my ear as he came.  Now I knew what had fired him so.  Witnessing that moment- detached from the experience itself was incredibly erotic.  A shockingly intimate thing to witness and to share. 

He made this soft sound in his throat and collapsed against me, letting me feel his full weight for a moment before he rolled off with little ceremony- except for that bit where he wouldn't let go of my hand.  He didn't close his eyes.  I didn't either.  We just lay there on our sides, breathing together, sharing both vulnerability and intimacy.  I felt so close to him.  It was terrifying in this way that makes you wonder if you can die of love. 

It was into that most private moment that the world so rudely intruded.  A voice from the courtyard, calling out a greeting.  For a heartbeat, we both stiffened.  He rolled to a sit.  I felt like my heart was being ripped away for us to be separated just then. 

"Oh my GOD!  That cannot be Jack and Uma!"  I clutched the sheet to my breast in some instinctive response to intrusion.  My hand slipped back into his, desperately needing his comfort and security in a time when I felt so achingly vulnerable.  I squeezed his fingers.  "Let's pretend we're not here.... I can't face them.  Not now."  I was in no hurry to make nice with one of his former lovers.  Make no mistake; I am glad he has known other love besides mine.  He deserves that above all men.  But at the same time, this was a meeting I would have preferred to psych myself up for rather than have thrust upon me at a time I felt very vulnerable.  To say nothing of the beard burn and smattering of love bites that marred my skin.  And his.  Neither of us had cared to restrain ourselves and it had been an exuberant, lavishly erotic homecoming.  I was also worried about Maximus, wondering if he would be okay with it all.  He and Uma were no longer lovers, but he is incredibly possessive.  Even if he was happy for her, no man likes to see his lover with someone else. 

Max wouldn't hear of hiding, of course.  "We have guests.  It would dishonor me to turn them away."

Before my rather abrupt departure from the group, I'd heard quite an earful about Uma's character.  Somehow, I couldn't quite imagine Maximus in love with the woman they'd described to me.  He didn't speak of her to me often, but there was such fondness in his voice when he did.  I could only imagine what was being said about my character now that I was in a similar position.  I've always been one for making up my own mind rather than having someone tell me how to think, but I had no desire to have my intimate reunion with Maximus disturbed by anyone.  "I don't want HER in my home," I grumped pulling the covers over my head childishly.

"I will pretend I did not hear that.  It is unworthy of you."  He swatted my backside and jerked back the covers with a grin.  I stuck my tongue out and tossed a pillow at him.  Which he tossed straight back, naturally, laughing as he went out on the balcony to greet the guests standing in the courtyard below.

I was waiting when he came back in.  We shared a strange moment; a blend of joy and unease that was still deeply infused with the lingering intimacy we'd just shared.  My body was loose and open from his lovemaking.  The wet proof of his pleasure was still trickling down the inside of my thigh.  He smiled when he saw it.  "I will shower and go greet our guests."  He caught the pearly droplet with his thumb and then brought it to his mouth, licking at it with an earthy sensuality before touching my hair gently.  "Bathe.  Dress.... but do not tarry.  I wish you at my side." 

I nodded and caught his hand as he turned to go.  I inclined my head toward the window and the guests waiting down below.  "Are you alright?"  I knew this would be difficult for him.  His feelings for her ran deep, even if they were no longer lovers. 

He gave a curt nod and then softened and pulled me into his arms.  Just for a moment.  It was a brief touch that said he, too, was still experiencing the lingering feelings stirred by our lovemaking.  We shared a tender lover's smile and he touched his forehead to mine before drawing away.  It was an elegant gesture that spoke volumes for all its silent simplicity.  He had found his place in the world and he wished to share it with the people he loved.                    

UMA

I had warned Jack that I had no intention of visiting Maximus when we were in the Bay of Naples. He had told me we damn well were. I said he could go alone. He said "Madam, if I have to carry you like a sack over my shoulder, then so be it. But you shall accompany me."

I had retorted. "Then I shall be rude to everyone and embarrass you!"

He had replied. "I beg to differ. You will only embarrass yourself. And that is of absolutely no concern to me whatsoever."

We have these conversations periodically. He knows he'll win. But at least I feel I have made my point, however juvenile it is.

But that was then. Before Arthur dropped his little bombshell on us. Even I could not be so cruel as to keep that news from Maximus and Heather. Nor could I expect Jack to relay the news to them. This is a man who blushes in company if I admit we share the same room. He is so odd.

The Bay of Naples is one of my most favourite places in the world. It may be fairly polluted now, it certainly doesn't have beaches to compare with the Caribbean or the Far East but there is something magical and intoxicating about this coastline and the magnificent stretches of the Amalfi Drive, that road way that seems to defy all possibility and logic to wind and twist round the edge of a precipice, giving some of the greatest views I have ever seen.

We were in a small town called Positano that is nestled half way between Sorrento on the Naples side and Amalfi on the other, nearer to the city of Salerno.  It is perhaps the most picturesque resort of them all. Since the early twentieth century it has attracted artists and writers, craftsmen and intellectuals until this once poor and cheap retreat in the sun for impoverished auteurs, is now a cosmopolitan and trendy colony for expatriates and lotus eaters. Property prices are high and far surpass the surrounding areas.  It is here that he had chosen to live. I was still somewhat bemused by the location.

The walk from the harbour up through the beaches lined with sun beds, parasols and beautiful people, through the maze of streets clustered along the terraced hills, past stalls and workshops with every type of craft and fabric and art displayed is a feat in itself before you leave the commercial area for the restaurants and bars and then the residential homes. The incline defies all sense and you wonder at the people who dared to build on these terraced slopes.

The place that we sought was apparently not amongst this elegant and much prized location near to the beachfront. Where we were directed was much further up the mountain where the real Positani lived among the whitewashed cottages and simple dwellings higher up. The climb was hard work, especially for Jack, who had slung a large holdall over his shoulder which, of course, I had packed and - of course - was about double of what it needed to be. He made several threats along the route to throw half of the stuff 'overboard' in temper at what he considered entirely unnecessary weight, but fortunately did not make good on his promise.

The streets, although still cobbled and narrow, were quieter now and the views when we turned back to look, were breathtaking - so much better than further down where the cluster of the buildings obscured the true scope of the Bay.  Several times we lost our bearings and had to stop, asking local residents if they knew the place. They did. Every time I mentioned the address, we received the same answer. "Ahhh....Massimo!" It would appear even old ladies sitting in the early October sunshine are as affected by the general as any other females. They invariably laughed and rolled their eyes before pointing us in the right direction.

We came upon it quite by chance; it is flanked by a wall and a thick hedge - easy to miss the small wooden gate engraved with the name of the property.  I pushed an overhanging creeper that had fallen on a brass plate and there was the name which proved we had the correct house. Elysium. Green fields and the sun on his back. What else would he call his true home?

Pushing on the gate, we entered a small courtyard, entirely private, even now still blooming with flowers, lemon trees and herbs in tubs, beds and planters. There was a sort of haphazard overgrown beauty about it that came from being a well-loved home. People lived here. People loved here. You could feel the calm and peace descend as the gate swung closed and shut out the world.

The courtyard led out onto a terraced patio, rustic and flower-bedecked that hung suspended almost over the whole bay. Imagine - blue sky above and sparkling sea below. It felt like you were nestled in the palm of God. Both of us stood enchanted by this perfect hideaway and stayed for a while just admiring its outlook and the worn charm of the building. Then Jack called out "Hallooo? Anyone about?" We had not informed them of our arrival, having no means of contact other than Maximus's cell phone and that appeared to be permanently switched off. Perhaps they were away. Perhaps our journey was for nothing.

But we were wrong.

Just then I heard a familiar laugh from somewhere above me; a deep rumbling sound that only one man I had ever known made. I raised my head and there he was, watching me from the balcony of a room above, the wooden shutters open. His chest was bare and he looked languid and loose. Either I had disturbed his sleep - or his lovemaking. I wondered if he was naked beneath the cover of the stone parapet.

It was almost midday. Maximus in bed at this hour? Well...it was possible. I know his appetites.

"Look what the sea brought in...!" he murmured sonorous and low as our eyes met. It was good to see him again.

"Maximus..." I called out softly, an old longing scarce hidden in my instinctive response to him. 

He inclined his head in that way he has that seems to be both courteous and yet arrogant. Respect is due to him and he accepts it as a matter of course. "Jack Aubrey...it is an honour to welcome you into my home....If you will both forgive me...I will be down in a moment...Make yourselves comfortable..." And he was gone, back into the room and we were alone again. Jack and I sat down by the wooden trestle and waited.

"How inopportune..." Jack muttered, tapping the table leg nervously with his knee. He was embarrassed and uncomfortable. "It is most unacceptable to call at such a time..."

"Come on, Jack - it's in the middle of the day. When would you suggest we called?"

"Nevertheless...."

"Get over it...mind you, if I were her, I would be spitting..." I started to laugh at the thought. "Imagine...the woman that you bloody hate disturbs you in flagrante...with your new boyfriend who just happens to be one of her castoffs..." I fell into a helpless giggling at the visual image of her face when she realised who it was.

"You have no evidence to suggest that Heather dislikes you. Do not be such a harridan..." Jack retorted. He just doesn't get it.

"Jack! Wake up. This is me. Uma the Bitch. Destroyer of the Universe. Despoiler of Good Men. Plus, I am also the woman who has had Max's loincloth in a twist for ages ...I'll bet she just loves me. 'Specially when I call at moments like this..." I tittered to myself in glee. God, I am so horrible. Isn't it great?

"You are a very unpleasant woman at times, Uma. You are also far too overdramatic. I think you will find that Heather harbours no such enmity towards you..."

I snorted. "Jack...when you and Sophie were courting...tell me how did she feel about Diana?"

Jack pulled a face. "She was most unreasonable. She seemed to think that Diana was a threat to her and made rather underhand allusions to some affair she imagined we were conducting..."

"Jack - you were sleeping with Diana..."

"Well...in a manner of speaking, that is true. But Sophie had no proof of that. It was only her fertile imagination at work ..." It is not even worth arguing when he is in that mood. He will not see reason.

"Well, take it from me, lover boy...think Heather- Sophie and Uma - Diana and you will be close. Bet you."

"How much?" He cannot resist a wager.

"We've no money, Jack."

"Then we will have to consider a forfeit..." But before I could ascertain what delight he had in mind...the door opened and out strode Maximus.

That sort of stopped me in my tracks.

He hadn't even attempted to disguise the fact that he had just been having it off. Things like that just don't worry him at all. He was wearing a pair of old battered jeans that were so obscenely gorgeous that I almost wet my pants at the sight of him. On his chest he had a shirt with one or two buttons fastened. That was it. Definitely commando and bare feet as well. His hair was damp and ruffled as if he had just showered. I had to mentally force down the whimper that rose to my lips. Jack was observing me with an odd expression on his face.

"Good day, my friends. What a pleasant surprise!" Maximus remarked without a trace of irony in his tone. But that is Maximus. He would absolutely mean it because it is integral to him to be welcoming to guests even if they knock on the door when he was just about to shoot his load. Although one look at Maximus' laid back expression suggested to me that he had shot his load already.

Several times.

Just then a woman slipped under his arm and stood possessively slightly before him. She was beautiful and serious, her expression not exactly hostile but questioning, her long dark hair damp and tied up, a loose linen dress on her slender shape, her full breasts outlined by the soft drape of the material. I could sense her warning me, like a tigress; I was prowling near her mate and she was wary of my purpose. It was a combination of her need to establish her claim and the lingering bond of the love they had just made. He was still in her - she had not had time to come down from the orgasm he had given her. A very volatile time for a woman.

As if in answer to her, I moved back closer to Jack; I felt his hand slip round my waist. It seemed he had claims to establish, too. I repressed a smile at the nature of men and women and I saw in Maximus' eyes that he had recognised it all too.

And both of us knew. Our partners had nothing to fear. But both of us would not give up lightly the pleasure of teasing the rival. It is instinctive. The challenge of the pack.

"Hello...you must be.....Heather...." I paused before I said her name as if I was having trouble remembering it. Maximus's mouth gave a slight twitch as he heard my slight. His eyes narrowed in warning. I stared him out.

"Yes and we all know who you are, don't we?" She responded tartly. Maximus's eyes danced; mine flared with the challenge. "It's very good to see you again, Jack. It's been far too long.  I do hope life it treating you well these days!" She said it with a trace of pity in her voice like she was saying 'poor lamb' to be stuck with that bitch. Jack, true to form, answered her with his delightful courtesy, giving a small bow and saying:

"Madame, you do me an honour! It is a delight to be in your company again!"

We chatted politely for a while after that. Max had just got home and we talked of our voyage. Pleasantries were exchanged.

"But where are my manners?" Maximus suddenly announced when the conversation flagged a little. "What can I get you to drink? You must stay for lunch but first you must be thirsty after the long walk from the harbour...?"

At that Heather (obviously a good little homemaker) broke in. "No, let me. A pot of coffee? The local blend is wonderful..."

"I prefer tea but....I think I had better have coffee. You Americans never know how to make real tea...." Jack nudged me from behind in warning.

"Darjeeling, Jasmine, Earl Grey...or perhaps you'd prefer hemlock?" she retorted with a wry smile.

I beamed back falsely. "Then let me come into the kitchen and assist you. I'm sure the boys want to catch up without us ladies around..."

"I can manage..." she began.

"Nevertheless...." I insisted and followed her into her own kitchen. Women just hate that. 

I noticed in the small hall way with its rough stone flags and throw rugs that there was an overcoat and a carry on slumped against the wall, a lap top case lying haphazardly placed nearby. A tie hung over the back of a chair. It was obvious that Maximus had not long ago returned and we had stumbled on their blissful reunion. I tried to shut the vivid images such a thought brought from my mind.

While Heather busied herself, I hopped onto a counter top and looked around. It's a really gorgeous place, I have to admit that. Rustic and simple in one sense but everything is good quality and tasteful, quality without designer chic, a real home with a quirky eclectic taste to prevent it from becoming too homely. I remembered then that she was an artist - you can always tell. "Nice place. But then Max is loaded. You struck lucky," I observed as I helped myself to an apple from a large bowl.

"I wouldn't know. I'm not very interested in money," she answered as she poured water into a teapot and did it just right. 

I grinned. "Ahh...another sister applying for sainthood...I forgot..."

"I'm no longer one," she said it quietly. I was rather surprised. The thing was I had no clue about her status and had imagined that maybe things were still the same as far as she was concerned.

"Really? They gave you the boot as well? Join the club. I'm like the evil fairy. Stole poor innocent Jack from under their noses...." I shrugged and bit into the apple again. Heather turned and gave me a searching look.

"I heard. It wasn't right. I...I just wanted you to know that I never agreed with that but I couldn't do anything about it. They did the same to me. We broke the golden rule. We wouldn't share and neither would our men. It's funny really. All that talk about love and when you really do fall in love, you are considered to have acted unfairly and against the spirit of the place. A temple to love. Where love is banned. Pretty funny when you come to think of it..."

I stopped chewing. She was nothing like I had imagined. And she was dead right. I jumped down from my perch and walked over, helping her to set out coffee cups and a few tiny almond biscotti on a plate. "I was expecting not to like you. I'm sorry if I acted like a bitch just then..."

Heather looked up and gave me an amused look. "Well, from what I hear you have that down to a fine art..." Then she stopped and put her hand on my arm. "I'm only joking...I never disliked you. I just never met you. People said things but I prefer making my own mind up. You see...look, I know Terry well and I know he's had a very hard time. But on the other hand...Maximus adores you. I can't imagine him having a high opinion of anyone if they didn't deserve it. And Terry, too. It's quite clear that whatever happened between you, that he worships the ground you walk on. I have to ask myself what kind of woman instills that in two men such as they?"

To be quite honest she knocked me for six. I really didn't quite know what to say. "I just worry about Max. He's had such a dreadful life really and I can't bear him to be hurt anymore..." I stuttered.

"I'll never hurt him..." she whispered, her eyes filling with emotion. I knew it then. Just felt it in the air and all about and in Max's dreamy languid joy. I was a selfish fool for not having recognized it the very second that I had seen the pair of them together. They were a couple and deeply in love. How wonderful.

"I know. Just me and my claws. I'm sorry..." I said. She gave me a gentle smile and went to fetch a jug of cream. "Lemon for me if you have it..." I asked. She pointed to a mountain of lemons in a basket. I laughed. What a silly thing to say in this place where lemons abound. "Limone!" I exclaimed. She sliced one finely and arranged the pieces on a small dish. "About Terry and me..."

But she held up her hand. "It isn't my business! He doesn't really speak about it when I see him. It's just that I know...I know he is still struggling...."

I felt a lump rise in my throat at the mention of him. Even now after all this time - I can never ever think of him without wanting to cry at the awful waste of what we had. I don't understand what he still is to me but he will always be in my heart. Like a part of my flesh that has been amputated and still aches when a cold wind blows.

All I did was nod my head and look away. She didn't pursue the topic as if she could read my discomfort. "Are you and Jack doing well? I mean it occurred to me that financially this could have hurt you more...Maximus is self sufficient..."

I was thankful for another line of conversation. "Yes...it has meant a big change in our lifestyle. Frankly we are as poor as church mice, as Jack would say. We had some money in our accounts but we have run it down. We plan to go back in a few weeks and then face the world of work. I'm not sure what we'll do. Jack could use his skills but he would need a lump sum to set him up but...well, we haven't got it. So I think I will try and get a teaching job and he may have to sign on with a ship or something for a few months...merchant navy? Maybe..."

"Leave you alone?" Heather gasped.

"He's a sailor. That's all he knows."

"You'll be alone so much..."

"Max works away a lot. You must be alone too..."

She nodded and there was a sudden feeling of solidarity between us. "It doesn't make it easier no matter how much you love a man..."

"I know," I told her. "I'm scared of what we have to face although I don't tell him that. But he's scared too. It isn't because of the money. I don't really care about that at all. We'll be together and I would walk through hell and back to be with him. I know you probably don't think me much of a catch for a good man - I buggered up Max's life and fucked up Terry's head - but I love Jack Aubrey. I won't let him down. I won't..."

Heather put her arm round my shoulder. "You didn't do anything to Max or Terry that they didn't both want. You're not to blame. I want you to know that Maximus is safe with me. I know you love him too and are afraid for him. I promise you I will never let him down either..."

There were damp eyes all round as we carried out the tea and coffee. The men looked as if they expected teeth and nail marks but instead got two smiling women with moist eyes. I do so love confusing men, don't you?

INTERLUDE

"So, Maximus, you've...bought a house...." Jack Aubrey began, drumming his fingers on the wrought iron table.

"I have," Maximus replied, his gaze steady and signifying nothing. He had no intention of making this particularly easy. Hospitality was one thing, small talk quite another.

"It's a very...pleasant property..." Jack offered, already a little annoyed by Maximus' reticence. "Rather small... but altogether a most pleasant aspect..."

Maximus shrugged. "It serves its purpose."

"Which is...?" Jack asked but effecting a bored tone of voice.

"...To live in..."Maximus replied tartly.

"Just so. Just so." That line of conversation petered out and Jack stood up and rested his hands on the parapet, staring out across the terraced hillside to the sparkling sea vista spread out before him.

"You returned to the sea then?" Maximus eventually asked.

"I did," Jack answered.

There was a pause. "And how does Uma find the sea?" he continued.

Jack remained looking outward, his back averted. "The same way as I do. She goes on deck and opens her eyes..." He smirked to himself but gave no sign of amusement in the grave tone of his voice.

Maximus tsked softly. "I had not taken her for a sailor..." he added sourly.

"She isn't. She is my female companion. I sail the yacht."

"She seems...less well groomed than usual. I'm surprised she is happy so far from a civilized life..." Maximus countered.

Jack spun round and fixed Maximus in his sights. "We live a civilized life. What is your implication, sir? That I do not take care of her as she ought to be looked after? I stay by her side which is more than anyone else ever cared enough to do. Keep your opinions to yourself, sir!"

At that Maximus inclined his head in recognition of his somewhat unnecessary jibe. "What do you do for income? I presume you have lost your previous stipend?"

Jack sat down, inhaled deeply and then smiled ruefully. "That is still to be decided. I shall work. It will not be easy but I am not afraid of hard work. I wish I could do more for her than I can..." It was a rather telling admission from a proud man and not lost on Maximus.

"She is happy. I doubt she cares for anything but that you are with her..."

Jack's eyes shot up at that. He seemed surprised at the compliment from the other man. "I fear my work will separate us. It is the nature of the sea. For myself I am inured to long periods of time away but...she will find it hard. I worry for her. She is quite alone these days..."

"Heather too. It is not a life either of them expected, hey? They did not envisage taking up with men like us, I'll warrant..."

"They could do worse," Jack answered with a grin.

Maximus nodded. "They could indeed. Jack...I am pleased for you both. She speaks so highly of you. I know she is happy." Jack nodded but did not add a comment, his mouth set in a line. It was clear he was uncomfortable to admit that Uma might have contacted her former lover and talked about him to Maximus. "In case you are concerned...there is nothing between us. Not any more. Only that she is my friend. And that I would not let any harm touch her..."

Jack bridled. "She has no need of champions. I am capable of being all she needs..."

Maximus nodded embarrassed, realizing that his implication, while well meant, had been entirely inappropriate. He imagined his own reaction to another man - who? Thorne? O'Leary? Hando? And how he would have resented their claiming any relationship with his woman. "I...I did not mean that as it sounded, Jack. Merely that I would look out for your woman as I would imagine you would be there for mine. A man needs to know these things when he is often away and his life is fraught with dangers...."

Jack blinked rapidly, cleared his throat and thought carefully before answering. "I hope we will be friends. A man needs friends in this world. And a man does need to know that his family would be safe if ever any harm befell him. You know I would never let Heather be in want. We may not be close -but she is one of us and that is enough for me."

Maximus acknowledged that with a smile. "I know the kind of man you are. But, I would imagine that your dear lady might object on some level..."

Jack laughed. "She will object on every level but she will get over it. I always find her bark much worse than her bite. You know her moods quite as well as I do, I'll wager. Personally I just ignore her and let her rant on. She soon runs out of steam..." The two men chuckled, solidarity found in the strangest of places. "So what news of the others? We are very starved of anything current. We met Arthur recently - more of that anon - but how are Thorne and O'Leary...you must see a lot of them..."

UMA

From that point on the atmosphere seemed to ease amongst us. Maximus drove us all to lunch at an exquisite restaurant in an exclusive boutique spa hotel called La Sirennuse further down the cliffs. There we dined on seafood and crisp salads washed down by a few chilled bottles of Verdicchio on a balcony that hung suspended above the valley with breathtaking views of the scene. We spoke of many things in genial companionship: I told hilarious tales of my absolute disasters at sea, Jack spoke of our voyage in general, peppered with a few off colour jokes that did not always hit the mark, Maximus discreetly filled us in on his life with TOL and Heather described her artistic projects. She apparently has a workshop-cum-apartment in the lower town where she often stayed when Maximus was away.

As was the custom in those parts, we talked long after the meal was over, right through the heat of the day on that shady veranda. It was late afternoon before we returned to the house. Over lunch Jack had suggested we ought to take a room at the hotel (although I grimaced having seen the rack rates); Maximus either guessed our straitened circumstances or simply out of his natural hospitality would not hear of such a thing, for he insisted we should use their guest room. I glanced surreptitiously across at Heather to glean her reaction but she merely nodded her agreement and said that we must, and so we gratefully accepted their generous offer.

Back at the house, she showed us to our pretty room with its sea view, and then withdrew, suggesting we might like to rest for awhile. Jack strode over to the window and flung open the shutters, letting light pour into the cool, dark room. It had a provincial charming with whitewashed walls and a flagged stone floor: the bed was an old pine frame with bright blue bedding and the walls were hung with pictures and brightly coloured local pottery. It was comfortable and inviting and we were both more than looking forward to a night in a soft bed on land.

As Jack stared out onto the seascape I came up behind and slipped my arms round his waist, hugging in close to his sturdy body. He leaned back and rocked against me slowly, covering my hands with his. "What a beautiful place..." he muttered.

"It is. So peaceful. At last he has found his Elysium...." I whispered. Jack turned and gathered me up into his arms, tilting my face to his and looking at me gravely.

"And you? Are you as satisfied as he with your wandering life and our empty pockets?" He asked sadly.

I hugged into his body, tears pricking my eyes that he should ever feel that he had let me down or that any man could be to me what he could be. "Don't say such things! You are the only man I shall ever want. No man before you, Jack Aubrey! Maximus is a good friend...a former lover, yes, but we are past that place...he is happy with his own love now as I am with mine!"

Jack raised me to his height and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he swung me round. "No man enjoys the knowledge that the man he is with was once his woman's lover. But he is a fine man and cares for you still. I hold nothing against him. I can see he loves his woman and has eyes only for her now..."

We kissed in the midst of that room, tenderly but with a wild desire for each other, heightened by the emotional overload we both felt: fear, joy and hope all intermingled. I wanted him and knew that he was aroused and both of us could easily have fallen to the bed and spent the next few hours naked in each other's arms. But there were still things to do. We had come here for a purpose and we must accomplish that.

"No! Jack! Put me down!" I insisted with a laugh. He moaned but obliged, setting me to my feet reluctantly.

"What now?" he asked sourly; he hates to be thwarted when his desire is aflame.

"As much as I wish to test this bed with you, my love, I must speak to Maximus about Arthur and Angharad. I need to see him alone and you must distract Heather while I do. You should prepare her for what is to come. Maximus will be gravely disturbed by this news..."

"As was I!" Jack retorted, his good mood rapidly giving way to his rising anger. He had brooded a lot on this of late and was bitter about the whole business.

"I know you were! But as bad as it was for you, for Maximus it is even more difficult. You know what he lost and what it meant to him!"

Jack nodded, chastened, and he lay back on the bed thinking. I wandered to the window, drawn by the sounds of muted speech. Below I saw Maximus in the courtyard pulling Heather into his arms and I watched their passionate kiss with fond affection. They broke apart and stared deep into each other's eyes, he playing with a lock of her hair as he smiled down at her, she gazing up at him in adoration.

Dragging my eyes from the intimate scene, I looked back at Jack, now almost asleep on the comfortable bed and my heart sang at the sight of him. I, too, knew that love where you only have eyes for one person - and I was so elated that Maximus had found it for himself at last.

Back outside, the couple parted with a few soft words and I continued to observe them as Maximus pick up a book, striding down the path towards the lemon groves while Heather stayed behind, busying herself with her plants. I saw my chance.

"Jack? Wake up! Don't fall to sleep!"

He grunted and rubbed at his eyes, sitting up. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he shook his hair from his eyes and I marveled at the thick golden curl and how wonderful it was when wild and unfettered. It seemed only to make him appear more virile when on a lesser man it would have appeared effeminate.

"What is it?" he growled.

"Maximus has gone for a walk. I am going to follow and talk to him. Heather is gardening. Keep her occupied whilst I go-  or better still, have a talk with her yourself..."

"What can I possibly say on such matters..!" he protested.

"She's a modern girl, she won't be embarrassed. Spit it out, there's a good man!" I laughed at his obvious discomfort. That is the anomaly of Jack. He is the most earthy and physical of men, crude and outspoken many a time in the wrong place, but unfailingly shy over personal matters.

I kissed his lips, he grumbled some more, and I dashed down the stairs, out of the back and off down the path after Maximus, avoiding Heather.

It was a glorious late afternoon that time of day when the breeze announces the turn to a cooler evening. Insects hummed in the groves, lizards darted in and out on the rough-hewn path dotted with clumps of wild flowers. It truly was a wild and wonderful spot, peaceful and harmonious and I could well see the attraction for them both in this hidden gem they had found for themselves.

Every aspect of the path I trod looked out upon the sea and its glittering vista far below. It almost took my breath away. I almost forgot my real purpose as I wandered about taking in the sight and breathing in the air, rich and fragrant with lemons and herbs. Until:

"So, what brings you out and about down here, my old friend?"

I looked up and saw Maximus sitting on a wooden bench in a small hollow half hidden above me. It appeared to be a private retreat where he must have gone to read and think; a book lay open on his lap. I made to climb up but he indicated I should stay where I was while he leapt nimbly down and joined me.

"Come...let's walk..."

And so we did, through his orchards, around his property, talking now and again when he had something to show me, but generally in silence. We knew each other well enough not to need to fill in the quiet with unnecessary words. Finally we came out where there was a bend in the path and found ourselves on a ledge with the valley plummeting below us. It was a magnificent spot.

He reached out to pull me gently from the edge and asked me, "Now, tell me  why you really came?"

I turned and smiled. You could never fool him.

For a moment I looked out onto the sea, playing nervously with a little bunch of flowers that I had picked and wondering quite how I should phrase what I had to tell him. In the end I simply told him the facts as Arthur had revealed to us and he listened without interruption. But his eyes told it all. They went from amazement to joy and then back to flaring anger as realization dawned on him. He sat down on a rock and hung his head, his hands joined.

"Are you all right, Maximus?" I placed a tentative hand on his arm.

He hunched his shoulders and looked out to sea, his eyes stormy with emotion. All I could do was move close and hold him to me; he rested his head on my stomach and we stood there awhile in silence.

"If you can see the positive side... It changes everything. For the future, I mean..."

"I am aware of that. And I am, of course, grateful for that but...how could anyone have done that to us? We did not deserve that. We are men, not playthings!" He spoke through gritted teeth and I could only guess at the deep well of anger and bitterness that was swirling within him.

"I know. Jack feels much the same. But he sees the good side of it. What it means for the future..."

He nodded. "I will need to tell Thorne and O'Leary..."

I shrugged. "They're still part of it..."

Maximus pierced me with his gaze. "When they hear this I suspect not for much longer. They are already disenchanted." He said no more but I recognized how much lay behind his terse words. Men do talk. Don't ever think otherwise.

He took a slow deep breath and I watched as he took control of himself again. There was a time when I would have been the one he confided in - oh yes, he does talk and he often needs to lay himself bare. But it was clear then to me that I no longer held that place in his life anymore. I suppose that's when I realized the extent of his love for Heather. I was beyond joy to witness it. When you care for a man as much as I care for Maximus, what more could you wish for him than that he receive what he most wanted and deserved in life? To rediscover love, peace and family with a woman who felt the same for him?

For the first time in my life I felt that I now had some sureties - and so did Maximus. I understood exactly where he was. Because it is what I have found with Jack - another two wounded people who now know that it is possible one day to feel again.

I decided then to lighten the mood, fishing in my pocket for the box I had brought with me. "I have a little gift for you both!" I announced. "But you must close your eyes first!" I teased. Maximus gave me a wary look but did as he was told.

"Ta Da!" I sang; he opened his eyes and looked at the box in my hands, picking it up and examining it suspiciously. "I know you might want to be a father again some day...but not yet, hey? So until you sort yourselves out, I thought you had better...you know...be prepared? Surely that was a Roman soldier's watchword as well as that of the Boy Scouts..."

Maximus groaned when he realised what I had given him. "We never worried about what we left behind in those days, Uma..." he grinned with that boyish expression of his. "Are you telling me that Jack Aubrey goes for this option...?" he asked with a look of mock surprise.

"None of your business, Max. Actually he hates them with a passion but he knows the drill - 'skin on or he gets none'...I am a very harsh task master..."

Maximus took my hand, his smile fading, suddenly serious. "Would you have his child?" he asked me curiously.

I smiled back softly and knew tears were rising as I thought of what Jack and I had already discussed. But I would tell no one of that part of our lives.  "One day. When the time is right. It would be the greatest moment of our lives together..."

At that he sighed, as if he had finally had the confirmation that he was looking for. "He must love you so!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. " Imagine - why did we all never see that you two were the obvious choice? Hearty, bluff Jack with his lust for life and danger, his refusal to be bound by convention and rules - and the wild free spirit that no one could tame? Only he could harness the wind and hold it in the palm of his hand..."

Maximus, for all his dour gravity, has moments when he is capable of sheer poetry - and this was once such. I kissed him softly and we strolled back to the others hand in hand, both with our own private thoughts but secure now in our renewed friendship.

HEATHER

Jack found me in the courtyard garden, my spade sunk deep in the dark earth.  I love the smell and the sound of it as the spade plunges in and turns the rich black earth up to the warm sunlight.  Every time the wind blew it smelled of fragrant herbs.  The spicy scent grew stronger as I disturbed the plants, weeding around them and snipping off the most aromatic shoots to fill my basket.  Some I would use in the preparation of our dinner tonight.  Others Maximus likes in his bathwater.  It was a custom I had been unfamiliar with at first, but you haven't lived until you've soaked with your lover in a tub of herb-scented water and tasted the rosemary on his skin while making love.

Helping himself rather liberally to the wine I'd left out on our little alfresco table, Jack paced around, poking at the odd plant and occasionally sniffing at the flowers that cascaded from the various barrels and hanging baskets that adorned the small space.  I had the feeling that he had something on his mind.  Why else approach me when the others were away?  Poor Jack.  He has such a hearty zeal for life yet seems to have the most endearing trait of letting the niceties trip him up when it is clear his social conditioning is at odds with his fiery straight-at-'em nature. 

We made pleasant small talk.  I wondered what was on his mind.  Somehow, I knew the gulf between the two was vast.  He is so very like Maximus in that.  They are both brilliant tacticians.  Neither of them gives away anything.  And I know from experience what comes out of the mouth of a man like that is usually a world away from what's in his head.

Though their history makes things more difficult for Max and Uma, it makes things easier in some ways as well.  They are dear old friends.  I had only met Jack a few times.  I had danced with him at a couple of the gatherings, like the opening of Hando's shop and the 40th birthday bash Dino had organized for Terry.... that sort of thing.... but I hardly knew him.  I admired him.  Respected him.  But even after the afternoon we'd all just spent together talking and laughing, we were hardly dear old friends.  I liked him though, and hoped that in time we would grow into such a friendship. 

Maximus likes them both and had already spoken to me of his desire to invite them for another visit.  He has never said as much, but I think he misses the camaraderie found among men he likes and respects.  He is used to passing his time, both on duty and off, with other men like himself.  He worries about my isolation here in this place and yet never gives a thought to his own.  How like him.

I felt for both Jack and Uma that they were in a situation so similar to ours, cast out for daring to love too much.... but at the same time, I knew that for all their differences, Jack and Max would find some solidarity in that.  It would be a good foundation for a deep friendship.  And I intended to do everything I could to foster that.

Little did I know my world was about to be turned on its head yet again.  

At the moment, Jack seemed both a man with something important on his mind and also a man who had no idea how to engage a woman he hardly knew in whatever matter had stymied his tongue.  It had to be something intimate.  He is so charmingly old fashioned about such things.  He'd been speaking of Arthur and Angharad for the last ten minutes.  Or rather, speaking around them, burying himself deeper and deeper in euphemisms and innuendo until I was hopelessly muddled.

Later, I would come to understand why.  Imagine a man of Jack's time speaking to a stranger about something so delicate as pregnancy and childbirth?  Never mind contraceptives.  It was little wonder why he was so ill at ease.  Of course, I had absolutely no idea what he was trying to get at as he went on and on about Arthur and Angharad and made reference to some nebulous 'happy state'.  Finally, he seemed to just sigh and give up.  He folded his hands and gave me a rather curious look and wide smile.

I smiled back at him.  "What is it, Jack?"

"I hope you are well..... very well..... Very well indeed...."  He had lost me again.  "Yes, I dare say I hope you are as well as Angharad...."

"Angharad?"  I felt like a parrot.

His lips formed a moue.  "And are you well......?"  He cleared his throat and colored, fidgeting with some nonexistent speck of lint on his trousers.  "Well, not that well, of course..... although perhaps you are feeling a little not yourself?  If so, I beg your pardon...."  He looked out to sea.  "We tried to lose not a minute.... but it is possible we are already too late...." 

The most adorable color had crept up his neck to his cheeks.  His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard.  I desperately wished to put him at ease, but I hadn't the slightest clue what he was talking about.  I had no experience at dealing with the sensibilities of a man from his time.  How did Uma manage?  I thought of Max's odd sensibilities and smiled inwardly.  I guess we all learn to manage in our own ways.

"Jack?  Are you trying to tell me something specific?"

"Ah... specific....Hmm... well, yes...."  His color deepened and I thought I heard him curse softly under his breath.  "I think Uma might be better at this than I." 

I felt for him.  He was so flustered.  I thought more wine might help and put my hand on his arm.  "Jack?  More wine?"  

"Most obliged, thank you."  He held out his glass and smiled as I poured one for myself as well.  "Ah, yes.... that will do you good in your condition."  He drank deeply from his glass and then smiled at me.  "If so, it must be.... and Uma and I wish you both great joy."

My condition?  Suddenly all the little euphemisms fell into place.  "Are you suggesting that I might be pregnant?"  He sputtered and spit out his wine in shock, wiping at his chin before gulping the rest of the glass.  I poured him another and it suddenly dawned on me how shocking what I'd just said must have been to a man with his old fashioned sensibilities and I felt bad for not thinking of that before I opened my mouth. 

I just shook my head at him.  "Jack, I'm not in any.... er.... condition."  Why on earth would he think I was?  It was impossible.  All of them were no longer potent, as he well knew.  It was the one painful reality of this place that rested so heavily on Maximus' gentle heart; his longing for a child of his line and his profound sadness it would not be a part of our future together.  This conversation had touched a deep nerve and I felt myself draw back.  Maximus was only just beginning to deal with the loss of his son and I had no desire to dance around a topic I considered inviolate.  "Maybe I will have a talk with Uma after all.  I take it she knows what is in your mind?" 

He nodded, looking half relieved and half alarmed at my words.  I frowned and couldn't help but ask: "Whatever makes you think...."  I trailed off, unsure how to even ask that question without causing Jack to choke on his wine at my modern directness.

"Things change."  He settled back onto a stone bench and rubbed a hand over his bristled jaw as he did his best to explain to me the change in situation, as only Jack can.  "It is rather like a warship cloaked in false colors....  in a fog bank.  Now, imagine what happens if the fog should clear and the colors be revealed as only a temporary arrangement?"

"....a fog...?"  

"A bewitching fog."  His color rose again, but it was coupled with a strange sense of excitement and his eyes sparkled with something like pride.  "Would there not be a full firing of the guns?  With all the consequences...."  He cleared his throat.

A bewitching fog?  Full firing?  Consequences?  Surely he didn't mean what I think he meant?  A spell had kept them infertile?  "Jack, are you saying...." 

"I fear I am, madam.... although Arthur is overjoyed to be a father, but then he has never had one of the little turnip heads.  They are very strange creatures although they do have a way of worming their way into your affections....even the girls...."

It took a few moments for what he was saying to sink in and a few more before I could work out what it actually meant in a practical sense.  I immediately thought of Maximus and felt tears well up.  He may yet have his heart's longing.  A child of his line made with the woman he loves.  My knees went out and I sat unsteadily down on the bench next to Jack, who was looking somewhat alarmed by my tears. 

And suddenly, into my joyous awe came another, darker thought.  God.  What was Maximus going to do when he found out?  His fury over that manipulation would know no bounds.  I was suddenly very afraid of what he might do.  I gasped and sputtered in my tears.  Jack passed me his handkerchief and patted my back uneasily, unsure what to do with me.  Clearly, he was far more familiar with waterworks of a different sort.

As I studied him, more pieces fell into place.  I might very well be pregnant.  I had come on while Max was gone, but we hadn't used any protection yesterday or this morning....  The thoughts whirled faster and faster.  If Arthur was already a father to be and Jack knew of this news....  It was a small jump from Maximus to Jack.   "Is Uma....?"

Jack smiled and tucked my hand around his arm, patting it softly.  "Ahh, no.... but we have hopes.  One day."

"You do?  How wonderful."  I didn't say anything of our own hopes.  Maximus wasn't ready to be a father yet.  He was still grieving over Marcus, but he hadn't exactly made a secret of the fact that he not only desired more children, but that he believed them to be an integral part of the purpose of a man's life.  Flesh and blood to bind him, like links in a chain, to all his ancestors and all those yet unborn.  I pressed a hand to my belly in wonder.  It felt as if a whole world had miraculously opened up.

"Rather wonderful indeed."  He smiled widely.  "Who would have imagined it?"

I didn't know what to say to that.  I was suddenly overwhelmed by it all.  Jack handled my tears admirably and we muddled through somehow.  It was one of those moments that when shared, are the stuff of great beginnings to a wonderful friendship.  Hope shared, sorrow divided and happiness multiplied. 

Below on the hillside, I saw Maximus coming up the trail with Uma.  Jack smiled and his eyes softened as they rested upon her and then he turned to me and lifted his glass.  "A toast to a clearing of the fog."

"To the clearing of the fog."  I raised my glass and we both drank deeply.  "Let's just hope Max doesn't unleash too much hell when he finds out."  My heart ached to speak with him.  To share my joy and to make sure he was all right.  This news would hit him hard. 

Jack's eyes sparkled.  "Well, I rather hope he does.... I certainly intend to when the time is right."  He seemed to realize what he was saying just then and his open face grew more closed.  "But you need not concern yourself with those details."

My eyebrows went up.  Imagine it?  The difference, I mean.  How soft and delicate Jack was with me now and how very blunt he would be when he was ready let fly.  To say nothing of what this knowledge would drive Maximus to unleash.  I felt a shiver of fear and the wholly feminine reaction of righteous indignation for the injustices my mate had suffered.  Could they not see how deep a cut that had been? 

And under it all was the most extraordinary joy.  Children.  What a gift.  I smiled at Jack.  "The ultimate prize."  For which, they'd also paid the ultimate price.

He cocked his head.  "It is indeed," he said softly as we parted.  As he waited for Max and Uma to make their way through the orchard, he traced the words carved into the plaque on the wall.  Elysium.  It seemed fitting.  Waiting at Elysium's gate for the one you love.  I felt my heart lift, even as I knew the next few days would be difficult for Max.  He is an intensely private man.  He might share his joy in the company of friends, but his anger and hurt he would keep locked well away.  I knew he would want to talk eventually, but also I knew he wouldn't care to discuss anything so private while we had guests in our home. 

I was right.  He was the epitome of a gracious host all through dinner, but what was in his eyes told a very different story.  Under his stoic mask rolled a great many powerful emotions and though I enjoyed the company of our unexpected guests, I was counting the hours until night fell and we could return to our room and find some small measure of privacy as we shut out the world.      

UMA

The bedroom door closed softly and at last we were alone. It is strange, but since we have been together, most of our time we have lived in complete isolation from other people and as time goes on we seem to need other people less and less. After awhile in company, I simply long for the rest of the world to go away and leave us be. It had been good to spend time with old friends but even after one day, I wanted Jack to myself again and to retreat back into the idyll that he had created for me. I knew the days were running out, the sand slipping through the timer, and reality would soon enough bite, leaving us to face long separations and a harsher, crueler world. But for now, it was our time. And we did not wish to share it with anyone.

I sat at the dresser and removed my makeup, brushing out my hair and watching him in the mirror as he sat down and removed his shoes, ripped off his shirt, unfurled his hair, running his fingers through it impatiently. He seemed deep in thought and I wondered what was on his mind. Was it just general anxiety for the future? Was he dwelling upon his lingering unease about Maximus and me? Was he still storing up his anger at the way he had been duped?

I drew my wrap around my shoulders and walked over to where he sat, leaning on the back of his chair, the hair brush still in my hand. Pulling out the locks of his hair, I began to comb through it while Jack dropped his head back. He loves to have his hair brushed; he is a sensual man who has spent too many years of his life starved of touch and love. When it is offered to him, he basks in the comfort of it and I love nothing more than to give him that ease.

Stroke after slow stroke, the room silent but for the beating of our hearts, I drew the brush through his thick golden locks and he closed his eyes and rested back. His right arm rounded the back of the chair and I felt his hand grip my thigh, not sexually, at least not yet, but a tender caress, his returning of my care back to me.

When he spoke, his voice was gruff, the voice he used when he was half awake or half-aroused. "It went well? How did he react? I saw no sign this evening that he was ill at ease..."

I sighed as I lifted a strand of hair and raised it to my lips. "He was very upset, but he rarely shows his feelings in public. He didn't discuss them with me really. They are between him and his woman now..."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "I spoke to Heather. It was difficult but I think I finally got my message across. She was emotional. You know how ill I deal with women's tears... But she is a beautiful lady. She loves him very much, that was abundantly clear..."

I set down the brush and circled the chair to fall onto his lap and he held me against his chest.  I rode the rising and falling of his breathing. His hands held me close, fondling my breasts and idly rubbing his face against my hair. His lips caught my lobe and nibbled there, whispering, " 'Tis good to be alone!" His breath was warm on my ear, his lips lingered, tinged with the brandy he had been drinking; I squirmed at the tickling sensation. He chuckled and laved at me more until I was wriggling in his grasp. But he had no intention of letting me go.

I feigned defeat, falling back in his arms as if in a faint, aware that my flimsy wrap would fall open and reveal the light cotton chemise that was reminiscent (if somewhat scantier) of the petticoats a woman of his day might have worn. The satisfied murmur that escaped his lips confirmed his approval; Jack Aubrey likes nothing more than to remove clothing. It is as much a part of the foreplay of love to him as any physical manouevre. In his day, when women were so layered in coverings, then the art of undressing must have heightened the anticipation for both lovers. Jack likes me to wear something in bed and to re-dress after lovemaking. His hands enjoy searching through the folds of fabric for that which he seeks. For my part, I love to watch his thick fingers prise open the delicate buttons or tiny ribbons of fine fabrics and to feel the contrast between the sensuous drape of silk and the coarse flesh of his calloused hand. That alone can make me gasp and tremble.

Sprawled back on his solid lap, I let him untie the satin bows and peel the front apart to bare my breasts. His hands hefted the small mounds, thumbs and forefingers tenderly toying with the pert nipples until they stood out proudly. He smoothed his palms down my exposed flesh; I watched his eyes cloud and that faraway expression that seizes a man when he is slipping inside his own mind stole over his handsome face.

Jack reached down and lifted up one of my legs that hung over his knee; pushing up the fabric until I was naked from ankle to thigh, he raised my foot to his lips and sucked sensuously on my toes. I was as helpless as a baby, completely boneless on his lap, my nakedness know revealed as the gown fell to my hips and my raised leg opened me to him. But he was still gentle and romantic, kissing the arch of my sole and rolling my instep in his thick fingers.

Lowering my leg, he took my hands, interlocked them with his fingers, and pulled me to a sit; I slipped my left leg round his hips, the rough metal buttons of his jeans pressing against my tender naked sex - and he reached down to kiss me.

In his kiss there are so many words that Jack cannot say to me and probably never will - but I can read his inner language. It might be the kiss of sexual arousal, feverish and wild, but it is also the kiss of deep love and admiration, tenderness enough to make me weep and the offering up of himself and all he is. I could sit on his lap and kiss him all night and never ask for more. His fingers moved to cup my chin, hold my neck softly, caress me in rhythm to the searching journey of his tongue, plumbing the depths of my mouth in sensuous mimicry of the intimacy to which this was the erotic prelude.

I heard his deep groans and sighs and my gasps and trembling cries as we became more lost in each other. He pressed his swollen groin against me and rubbed crudely back and forth, as his fingers fell to my naked buttocks to grasp the flesh and my hands wandered down his muscular torso to let the feel of this man feed my fantasy.

There is that moment in the act of love- I purposely say love, not sex, for that is quite another matter as every sane person knows - when a crest is reached and the last shreds of the shell behind which we normally hide crumbles away. Then we are our natural selves and emotion alone drives us. That is the peak we had just reached when he rose from the chair to throw me before him on the bed, dragging on his buttons to free himself, eager to move to a more erotic consummation. I helped to push away his jeans and grasped him crudely; he hissed and fell upon me, sliding in to daub himself in the warm wet place that he craved.

The crest of the wave. I felt him pull back and take himself in hand to make that first sweet push - and the last shred of sanity screamed out to me. STOP!

"Jack! Rubber!"

"Godddamn infernal artificial...." Jack growled and threw himself onto his back, panting heavily. I lay there equally torn by the terrible interruptus to our coitus.

"Go on, Jack...don't just lie there!"

"Fetch me one of the bloody travesties then...!" he exclaimed.

"Where are they?" I sat up and began to scrabble about.

"No bloody idea. How would I know?" he muttered darkly, holding his cock, grimacing.

"Didn't you pack them?" I asked in shock.

"I? Why should I pack them? I didn't pack anything else..."

"Because...because...well, they're your fucking condoms..." I shouted.

"I see no reason for you to take that tone of voice. It is your decision to delay breeding, not mine..."

"WHAT? WE ARE BROKE! Do you want your child to be a pauper, you stupid, stubborn, priapic....MAN!" I screamed back.

We faced each other for a moment, glaring, and then began to laugh. Jack groaned. "Come, I'll spill elsewhere...I am sure we can think of some other aperture...?" He added wickedly.

But I had an idea. "Maximus! He's got some. I gave him that pack. Go on, Jack, knock on their door and ask them to give you one..."

Jack looked at me in utter horror. "Are you completely insane, woman? I will do no such thing! I would rather go without your tender touch than knock with begging bowl in hand to another man, your former lover to boot....!"

That was it. I jumped out of bed and threw on my wrap.

"Where are you off to?" he questioned me brusquely.

"To do a man's job!" I snapped back and ran for the door, hurrying along the corridor on tiptoes.

I have to admit, I did pause when I stood outside their bedroom door. They were probably in flagrante themselves considering that Maximus had only just returned from a long absence. I know it was pretty flaky of me, but I put my ear to the door and listened, just in case. I could hear the sound of voices talking softly but there was definitely no moaning and groaning or bed springs creaking, so I decided to take a chance. Knocking softly, I called out: "Maximus?"

There was silence within, as if they had both stopped speaking. Then I heard movement and a rustling, probably clothing being donned. I had hardly pulled my ear away when the door was yanked back and there he stood, wearing just a pair of loose pants low on his hips. Thanks, Max, why don't you make it easy for me?

"Uma?" he spoke quietly leaning on the door and making it impossible for me to see inside the room - not that I was looking, of course.

"Agh...!!! Um...!!!! Er...!!!" I was barely making sounds, never mind speech.

"Is something wrong, Uma?" he asked, all concerned.

I breathed in deeply to compose myself. "Maximus. May I ask you a favour? It seems Jack was rather hasty in his packing and he forgot his...contraceptives...As you have a dozen, I wondered.... could you spare us one? I mean, you can hardly need them all in one night now, can you...?"

Maximus gave me one of his stares but I could see the dance of amusement in his eyes. "Actually, I was planning on emptying the entire box..." he replied smugly.

I caught his expression and giggled when I realised he was teasing me.

"Don't laugh. I mean it...!" he smiled and then "Wait...!" He closed the door and re-entered his room. I heard a woman's voice and then light laughter and some muted comment from her to which he apparently laughed too. Then the door reopened and Maximus pressed the contraband into my eager palm. "And...keep the noise down...?" He winked and wished me goodnight, before closing the door and leaving me rather red faced on the landing.

Pattering back down the corridor, I gratefully reached the haven of our room and found Jack leaning back naked on the bed head in all his glory. "Well, madam?" he barked.

"Shut up, Jack, you're not on the quarterdeck now. Yes...I got it...But I think I've gone off the idea now..." I moaned as I eased myself into bed. He waited until I was tucked in and then rolled over me.

"Then I may have to change your mind, woman..." He pulled back the sheets and I grumbled about being cold. Which was, of course, a complete lie as Jack's body generates enough heat to warm up an entire house. He held out his hand and I placed the foil wrapped rubber into his palm; he inclined his head and then settled in above me, nestling between my parted thighs, his semi-erect cock rubbing against my soft folds. But he did not pounce or set to work with the gusto he is often capable of. Jack has many moods and when he is in a tender frame of mind he is often a very slow and sensuous lover.

He lay there rocking back and forth slowly, holding me in his eyes, his elbows resting on either side of my head, just looking at me, head tilted to one side and a dreamy expression on his face. Gone was the stern commander and the jovial drinking mate. Here was Jack the sweet and gentle lover, whose kindness and tender heart could bring any woman to weep for joy. I raised my hands to play with the strands of hair that hung between us and he smiled almost shyly, in that little boy lost way he has. I often think of his lonely life, from small boy to formidable man, and, despite the many women who have graced his bed, know how little tenderness he has ever received back for all he gave out. Even his own wife was not given to that sort of affection towards him. When I touch him like that, he seems almost overcome.

Sometimes he speaks of how he longed for touch so much of his life - not sexual touch alone - but for a woman to lay soft hands upon him and ease his burdens. He once remarked, and he meant no prurience when he said it, that he had known more gentleness at the hands of rough and ready men than from most women he had known in life. Women saw him as an adventure, an income, place in society or a night's wage - but only his mother had ever seen him as a person who needed comfort - and she had left him when he had been so young. I know that his violin became the mouthpiece for all the repressed emotion that he kept locked in his heart. I could imagine the world of men he inhabited and the gruff kindness he had received from them - and given out himself as a man - and it broke my heart that he had gone so long with that great emptiness inside of him.

And so we settled on that cool late September night, the shutters wide open and the sea breeze wafting in to stir the curtains and creak through the old house. Naked we lay pressed together, talking quietly, kissing, stroking, touching, lazy and sleepy, happy and fulfilled. I watched his face as he finally pulled away and donned the skin he hates so much, then returned to his resting place, moistened himself and placed himself at my entrance. Our eyes met as he sank inside; I saw him blink a few times, the pleasure of sensation softening his face and the low grunt of effort forced from his lips. Every emotion was writ large on his expressive face.

My body loosened, opened and sank into his arms; he pushed again and slid smoothly home, deep within me, hilted. His head dropped to my ear..."Am I too heavy for you...?" he murmured. I held him closer, clutching his naked buttocks and pressing his weight even more against me.

"Yes...No...I mean...I want you like this...I want to drown in you..." I whispered in reply. I heard his groan of pleasure purring in my ear and then felt his hips move; he was no longer able to resist the urge to seek his own desire. His own desire. My own joy. What can be finer than to lie beneath him as he loves me, this glorious man who wants to spend his life at my side? I wish we could lie joined like this forever. I wish time could stop still and never move on, never take him from me, never keep us apart...

I gasped and cried out, helpless in my passion, as he gripped me tighter and thrust more resolutely, rising and falling, long slow thrusts and a sudden pulling back to crest and dive again faster and faster and faster until I could not think and we both became each other. Only sensation and pleasure possessed our bodies. We both reached that high breaking wave together to crash down in a torrent of feeling and warm wet love to the soft bed beneath.

Haltingly we recovered; Jack was shuddering still and gasping for breath when I gently pushed him from me and reminded him to remove the damn thing before it leaked. He swore under his breath at the intrusion of this abomination, so I deftly did the job for him, knotted and tossed the soggy passion killer away, before returning to our post-coital embrace.

Sometimes I think that the time after we make love is my favourite moment of all; Jack is so languid and open, speaking of things that he rarely discusses at other times, emotion spilling from him like his seed. "You did well today, Uma. I know it was not an easy day for you..." he said.

I smiled and rolled over to lie on his chest. "I couldn't have faced it without you! But I'm glad we did it. I feel that life is falling into place now as though all the pieces are one by one slotting into place and the full picture is finally emerging. Do you know what I mean?" I asked him.

He concurred. "We must go home now and face what lies ahead. No more running and hiding. There is nothing that life can throw in our path that we will not take up and run with together. What say you? Are you ready for the challenge?"

"Bring it on, Jack!" I laughed and snuggled closer to him. "I love you so much, you know? Words don't do it justice," I whispered.

"Words are not needed for us...But we need to say it from time to time. I do love you...so very, very much..." he answered softly, his voice so deep that it seemed as if it came from far below us.

Then as an afterthought he added, in that typical way he has of saying something quite inappropriate: "But, you should have asked him for two, you know..."

I snorted. "Not again surely?" I exclaimed, reaching down to grab his genitals and find out for myself. He scoffed at my question, pushing my hand away - he was still sensitive.

"What am I? A Satyr? No....not again...I was thinking of the morrow. I know how you like to be woken..." he ran his hands over my breasts and down to cup my sex as he spooned against my back with a contented sigh.

I reached a hand out to the table by the bed and held an object up. He glanced at it and chuckled. "Good girl..."

"No...thank Maximus. He gave me two. He also knows my tastes...."

At that Jack grunted, sat up and pulled me across his lap, giving me a few sharp slaps on my rump and tickling me as I tried to wriggle away. I howled with laughter as he made a show of punishing me for my wickedness.

And then I realized how much noise we had made and pushed him away. "They can hear us!" I gasped, still fighting him off as he grabbed at me.

"I very much doubt they are interested in listening..." he retorted and cocked an ear to the room along the corridor where faintly in the distance could be heard the sounds of a woman's soft cries and the deeper rumble of a man in his pleasure. Throwing ourselves back on the pillow laughing, we pulled up the sheets and nestled together, my left hand in his right as he lay sprawled out with his other arm flung above his head and we quieted down.

And fell asleep while the whispers of the passion of another man and woman faded away into the night.