Chapter 6: Change

 

She was happy, that much was easy to see. And it was good to see her happy, considering that he didn’t like to take his eyes off her.

Russell knew that he was supposed to be working, but since he and Alice started sleeping together, he was plagued by thoughts of her more than ever.

And it wasn’t just the sex. Of course, the sex was phenomenal. Alice was endearingly versatile. Sometimes she demanded Russell to be rough with her and other times he brought her to tears with a slower, tenderer pace.

He was getting in over his head, he knew. As much as he liked Alice, the feelings he’d developed for her caused him more emotional turmoil than she could imagine. But, Russell told himself, what was between them had nothing to do with his past, and it wouldn’t do to go dragging the past into things. He needed to keep it as simple as possible.

Even if he’d already complicated things of his own volition.

Their first few days in Aruba were a flurry of activity. Though Russell would have liked to spend the morning lingering in bed with Alice, when he woke, she was already gone. He heard the shower running and waited for one last glimpse of her coming out of the shower before he rose himself. Even though Alice cited an emergency that demanded her immediate attention, Russell still managed to coax a hungry, lingering kiss from her before she left.

Every time he saw her thereafter, he couldn’t help but smile. Of course, Russell was a man who had always given up his smile freely – but there was never so much emotion behind it as there was with Alice. When he saw her, she didn’t even have to be looking at him. He couldn’t help but grin, and he was sure everyone who saw him thought he was a lovesick fool.

But this wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. To admit otherwise would mean coming to terms with issues he chose to bury rather than deal with, and Russell wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t know if he would ever be ready for that.

Simple had always been the name of the game for him. But he couldn’t deny that when he saw Alice, a large part of him longed for something more.

She was the kind of women who knew herself – who was successful in her own right and knew how valuable she was. She was an ethereal beauty and a kind soul – far too kind for him, really. But Russell couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

The problem was simply that he didn’t know if he was capable of opening up to a woman the way Alice deserved. He’d spent the last twelve years of his life telling himself that he would be everything women could want from him –charming, rich, suave, debonair. He would respect them and treat them well…but he would respect himself more by never allowing himself to fully commit.

Who the bloody hell would he be to only give a woman half of him? Or a quarter? No one in their right mind would accept that.

But Alice hadn’t pushed him. She never pushed him – and that was the beauty of the thing.

Perversely, it was that very fact that made Russell want her all the more.

Though the shooting schedule was busy and Regina made a number of insane demands that had him wondering if she was trying, specifically, to punish him, work usually ended around eight every evening.

Which meant they had a certain amount of free time. Russell always found Alice lingering in her makeshift workspace. He always liked to take a few extra minutes to watch her when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was fascinating to watch Alice at work – bent over a sewing machine with an intense look of concentration on her face. Sometimes, she worked freehand with designs, drawing on fabric before gazing longingly at the pieces as if she could see exactly what they would look like when they came together.

Which, Russell had to remind himself, she almost certainly could.

She looked at fabrics, needles and numerous sketches almost as lovingly as she looked at pictures of her niece on her phone, which Russell found her looking at whenever she could. Alice, he realized, was completely unlike him in that she had a powerful capacity to love. She told him that she had never found the right man, but in reality, the right man had never appeared to her.

Was it supposed to shock him that Alice had high standards? There were many women he met who had such standards needlessly. They wanted a perfect man when they themselves had no idea who they were. Alice was the exact opposite. She knew exactly what she wanted, but was afraid she’d never find it. It was no wonder no man ever measured up to what she wanted. Pleasing Alice Tate would, no doubt, be a tall order.

One he wished he could fulfill.

On the fourth morning of their stay, Russell forced himself to slip from bed and go down to the main desk to take his messages. His mind was still on the woman asleep waiting for him as he flipped through the several notes that demanded his attention when one in particular gave him pause.

It was a British number – and not his family’s. The name for the contact was Michael Tate.

Russell immediately arched a brow in curiosity. Michael Tate was Alice’s older brother. Why in the world would he have been trying to contact him? Of course, off the bat, he could only think one true justification, and it didn’t bode well for him. If Michael was planning to lay into him for pursuing or abusing his younger sister, Russell couldn’t believe that Alice knew about it. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who relied on her elder brother to protect her. If anything, Russell could see her browbeating Michael for attempting to insert himself into her business.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t call Lord Michael Tate to have a man-to-man with him.

Russell checked the rest of his messages before thanking and tipping the girl behind the desk. Then, he headed to the veranda outside of one of the resort’s hotels to make the call. Though he was almost certain that Tate didn’t know his personal number, he answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Lord Michael Tate?” Russell inquired levelly. “This is Russell Darwell. You asked me to call you?”  At the title he hadn’t heard in a long time, Russell sighed.  “Lord Russell Darwell.  Isn’t it?”

“Hardly.” He replied levelly. “I gave up my title when I left England. Now the right is my younger half-brother’s to claim.”

“How terribly convenient for you.”

At Michael’s acerbic tone, Russell re-evaluated the way he planned to approach this conversation. It was obvious that Tate was angry with him. He could only imagine how angry, assuming that Alice had told her brother of his behavior the last time she visited him. If that was the case, then Russell deserved the brunt of his fury. What he did not deserve, however, was to have his opinion ignored completely. After all, he could have chosen not to return Michael’s call.

But he had never been the cowardly type.

“Lord Tate, to what do I owe the honor of your conversation?”

When he replied, Lord Michael didn’t mince words. “I want to know exactly what your intentions are with my sister, Darwell. When she last came to Britain, she was torn to pieces because of your behavior, and now I see tabloid covers that you two are frolicking in Aruba. I would thank you kindly not to toy with my sister’s emotions. She’s not some idiotic fan hanging on your coattails. She’s a successful woman in her own right.”

“Lord Tate, I think you misunderstand the situation.” Alice was almost thirty years old, and Michael older than that. Wasn’t it a bit late for him to be hovering over her? Especially from half a world away? “Alice and I are both consenting adults. I’m not physically harming her and I have no intent to abuse her. That taken into account, I think it might be better if you stopped trying to parent her.”

His words were brusque but not unkind. He had, after all, always been the direct type. Especially when it came to other men of station.

Michael’s reaction was predictable.

“Listen to me you bloody cad,” he sniped aggressively. “Alice is my sister. My only sister. I’m not parenting her. I’m merely looking out for her welfare. Considering the long trail of heartsick women in your wake, I’d prefer my sister not to go the same way, if she can help it. Admit it: you’ve no real feelings for her. She’s just another way for you to amuse yourself.”

Well, it seemed Michael didn’t mince his words either. That was perfectly fine with Russell. He had never raised his voice in a battle of wits and he didn’t intend to start now.

“Lord Tate, how would Alice feel if she knew about this phone call?”

There was immediate silence from the other end of the line and Russell knew he’d struck a nerve. Despite what Michael insisted about him not having any feelings for Alice, Russell liked to think he knew her very well. In the little time they’d spent together, he was very cognizant of her passions, her likes and dislikes. He knew how quick her temper was, and how acerbic her tongue could be. More than anything, Alice didn’t like people meddling in affairs she was certain she could handle herself.

“I mean you no offense,” Russell went on carefully, “I just mean to remind you that Alice is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. Quite honestly, I intend to give her whatever she wants if it is within my power to give. She is a very singular woman – both gorgeous and talented – and she deserves a man who will worship her.” One day, Russell hoped, she would marry such a man after he showed her what such relationships could be like. “I suggest you speak to Alice if you want to know how relations are between us. At the moment, I can tell you with complete honesty that she is happy. And I would like for things to remain that way.”

“Yes, but for how long?” To his surprise, Michael’s words sounded somewhat pleading. “Darwell, I think you underestimate just how much Alice fancies you. She’s never paid a man this much attention in her life, let alone asked me for advice about one. Just so you know, I advised her against seeing you again after she left Britain.” Of course, he had. Any sane man would, considering the way he had left her in the LA airport.

But things had changed since then. “Michael, it’s lovely that you care for Alice as much as you do. In fact, I find it so lovely that I won’t tell her this call has taken place on one condition.”

“And what is that?” Michael’s voice was all but a snarl.

Russell took a deep breath. “That you continue to watch and see what happens between us before you judge me so completely. Is that acceptable?”

There was another moment of stunned silence before Michael finally replied curtly. “Fine. But know this, Darwell. If you hurt her, I’ll personally cross the Atlantic to wring your neck.”

Before Russell could reply to the threat, the sharp cry of an infant sounded in the background and his eyes widened in surprise. “Goodbye, Darwell.” Michael ended the conversation curtly. “I’ll be watching you.”

The baby’s cry was cut off curtly as the connection closed. For a long moment, Russell merely stared at his cell in disbelief.

Then he remembered, Alice had gone home to celebrate the birth of her niece. Michael was a father to a baby girl.

A sudden pang in his gut caught him completely off guard.

He’d never really considered having children. Of course, when he’d still been heir to the Darwell name, his mother had told him it would be nice if he had them eventually, but he was lucky she’d never pressured him. Since he moved to the US, Russell had done his very best to avoid children. Though he liked women immensely, he didn’t want to be roped into a lifetime relationship with one simply because he’d failed to be careful. That would be embarrassing indeed.

But now, for the first time since he had properly started his career, Russell wondered what it might be like to have kids. A son or daughter that looked half like him and half like someone else.

It wasn’t the worst thought. Though his child would inherit no titles, it was nice to imagine that he’d inherit Russell’s traits – along with those of his partner. Wide eyes, dark hair and an adorable smile. Along with that, he found that, with the right woman in his mind’s eye, he didn’t care so terribly much about imagining the mother of his child. Raven hair mussed from lack of sleep, blue eyes utterly imbued with pure love as she rocked in a chair, their child clutched to her breast.

The mental image made his heart fill more than it properly should, and Russell found his face flushing darkly. What the bloody hell was the matter with him? He was never going to have children, and he certainly wasn’t going to have them with Alice. As he’d just told her brother, she deserved a man who would pamper her and treat her well – a man who could offer her a real commitment.

Russell would never commit. No matter how much he felt for a woman, that much was impossible. In his mind, he still had his dues to pay to the one woman he’d failed: Amy.

“What on earth are you doing out here?’ At Alice’s sudden, dulcet tones, Russell whirled to see her standing before him. She looked absolutely enchanting in her crimson sundress and black sunhat shielding her face. Her dark waves tumbled down her back in grand profusion and he wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed and spread them all over the sheets.

But it was time for another work day.

“I was taking a few calls.” With an enchanting smile, she glided into his arms, placing a heated kiss on his lips that had him immediately aroused. The woman was a bloody minx if he’d ever known one. She was out to torture him.

“Good calls, I hope?”

“Work calls.” He chuckled, clutching her close to him. By this point, he was sure half of Lemmy’s staff knew that they were involved. Though Russell had almost always endeavored not to mix work and pleasure, with Alice, things were different. In a certain sense, she was his coworker – but he’d be damned if that stopped him from being in her bed.

“Those must be the best kind for you.” She parted from him only reluctantly to take a bite of the pistachio croissant she’d snatched from the breakfast bar. “You know,” she eyed him invitingly through thick lashes. “I’ve been given tomorrow afternoon off. We could go on a day trip, if you like.”

Russell would most certainly like. Despite his patience, he’d had about all of Regina that he could thoroughly handle in the last few days. If he had to spend another day with her, she might be in mortal danger.

“And where would this day trip be to?”

Alice shrugged. “Somewhere close on the island. I could finally make some use of that swimsuit and we could be alone for a few hours…” Dear Lord, when she was around he felt like an idiotic teenage boy. He had to fight the impulse to do whatever she wanted of him.

But a day trip couldn’t hurt.

“Sounds like a plan.”

She beamed at him, and for a moment, Russell was all but blinded by the brightness of her smile. “Brilliant. I’ll come to your room to find you around one in the afternoon.”

“Looking forward to it.”

And he was. Probably much more than he should be. But that, he would never admit.

Shortly thereafter, Alice set off to her workshop and Russell went off to consult with Lemmy about one of Regina’s racier scenes. The first time she tried to negotiate for more money over a racy scene, she won unequivocally. But by now, Lemmy knew her game. He wanted to aggressively negotiate.

Which meant he was in for one of the man’s aggravatingly long meetings.

At least, Russell told himself, he had tomorrow’s outing with Alice to look forward to.

 

The negotiations actually ended up going late into the night, and by the time they were finally over, it was close to eleven o’clock. Russell wished that Lemmy would keep the same hours as normal people and give him the opportunity to do the same – but by the time he reached Alice’s room, she wasn’t present either. There was a note for him on the bed informing him that she’d gone out with her two assistants and not to wait up for her.

For some reason, the words sent a pang of longing through him. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t allowed to have her own plans. That wasn’t it at all. It was merely that he found himself missing her every moment that he didn’t spend with her.

Bloody hell, Alice Tate had gotten under his skin. To the point where even his own developing feelings – hell, the woman’s own older brother –couldn’t make him see the light of day. If she were any other person, Russell would have long suggested that they go their separate ways. He would have stuck to his guns and ignored the temptation to get close to her.

Now, despite the calm conversation he’d had with Michael Tate, Russell was anything but calm when it came to Alice. He had no idea what he was going to do about things between them. He enjoyed her company, enjoyed her intelligence and, most of all, he adored her drive. Eventually, they would have to part simply because he didn’t want to hurt her but Russell didn’t see why it had to be anytime soon as long as each of them understood what was between them.

And what was between them?

The question made him groan as he entered her bathroom to look over the things Alice left on the sink. The items that Alice carried with her were a reflection of who she was – Tom Ford’s Black Orchid perfume, an expensive ceramic flat-iron, green tea blotting papers and a few mints. Beyond that, her makeup bag was open with an amalgamation of products he had no idea what to label, and a scant pair of her underwear were tossed on the counter, making him swallow thickly.

He could very well drown in her if he let himself.

But he wouldn’t let himself, would he?

Picking up her perfume, Russell inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he remembered what it was like to be skin to skin with her. It had barely been fifteen hours since she’d been in his arms, and yet he was all but pining for her.

This wouldn’t do at all.

Russell made the quick decision to hop into the shower and once he had, he slid between the sheets, naked, and willed himself to sleep. If he told himself he was waiting for Alice, he’d be up half the night, thinking thoughts that he had no business contemplating. Even as he told himself this, Russell began to drift off.

He woke a few hours later to the sight of Alice shedding a skin-tight navy shift not three feet away from him. He was instantly awake, watching hungrily as she peeled the tight fabric over her luscious behind before letting it drop to the floor. She was wearing a set of lacy, forest-green colored lingerie that cupped and supported her in all the right places. From his vantage point, Russell could see the small bruises, kisses and bite marks he’d left on her over the past few days.

When she reached back to undo her bra, he touched the clasp before she could, making her jump.

“Bloody hell, Russell. You scared me.” Even as she exclaimed the words, he was pulling her into bed with him, dropping her bra off the edge of the mattress. He expected that she might have had a lot to drink with her girlfriends – gone to a party where there might be other men. But Alice’s gaze wasn’t muddled with alcohol or anything else. If anything, she simply looked a bit tired.

And breathtakingly beautiful.

“Have a good time, did you?” He murmured against her mouth, kissing her leisurely. Russell didn’t stop until Alice was completely breathless. He would make sure that she thought twice about going directly to sleep, no matter the hour.

“We practically had to carry Mariah back to her room. Poor thing – she takes any excuse to cut loose very literally.”

Russell chuckled lowly against her neck, amused at the thought of the tiny blonde tottering into things. “Very kind of you.”

“Well, a shepherdess must tend to her flock.” Alice wrapped her arms around him, sighing as he began to kiss over the line where her neck met her shoulder. “Aren’t you tired? It’s close to two am and we have to get up early tomorrow.”

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to be tired with you in my arms?” He groaned lowly against her skin, making her shudder. “You’re more potent than coffee, Alice.”

“Better be careful, Mr. Darwell.” Alice laughed softly as he bit at her collarbone. “All your compliments might go to my head.”

“I certainly hope so.” With that, he tugged a nipple between his lips, savoring Alice’s low moan of pleasure. She tasted sweet and savory all at once, and the way she arched against his mouth was utterly intoxicating. 

“Russell…” She murmured breathlessly, her fingers threading through his hair even as she tried to protest. “I don’t think I can-”

“You can.” He growled against her breast. Perhaps he was being selfish, but at that moment, he didn’t care. Who knew how much time he had left with Alice Tate? For all he knew, she could decide the next day that he wasn’t enough for her – since they had started sleeping with one another he was sure the charm would wear off eventually. “And you will.”

When he flipped her over onto her stomach, Alice lay down quite willingly. As much as she might pretend she didn’t like it when he dominated her in the bedroom, the truth was that she told him just how much she adored it with every undulation of her body against his.

Slowly, Russell began at the nape of her neck, kissing her slowly, making her with bruises she’d have to wear her hair down to hide the next day. As he worked his way down her spine, Alice whimpered lowly – almost inaudibly. Over the past few nights, Russell had discovered how much she liked to have her back kissed. It was a place many men neglected, but Russell had never been happier to have ventured there with Alice. She liked feeling him go inexorably lower, towards the place where he liked to taste her the most.

She liked when he kissed her neck and shoulders gently as she fell asleep and she liked when he bit possessively at the glorious globes of her behind. In Russell’s mind, he was marking her. Alice Tate would be forever his, no matter what man came after him. She would remember his touch and his kiss.

And she would especially remember how much pleasure he brought her.

Russell massaged the twin globes of her arse generously, committing them to memory. He didn’t believe he’d ever come across a behind as glorious as Alice’s – from the flare of her becomingly small waist to the ample curve of her hips was divine. So divine that he lingered there for a moment, running his fingers over the angle before his lips followed.

As he nipped and kissed at her buttocks, Alice squirmed. By now, he knew, she would be more than ready for him. There was nothing he liked to imagine more than the image of Alice Tate growing wet at the thought of him. Did she think about the way he touched her while she was working? While she was eating? All of the above?

He certainly hoped so.

In a trice, he lifted her behind into the air, spreading her so that he could see the fruits of his labor. To Alice’s merit, she struggled only briefly – a fight he rewarded with a swift, warning smack to her behind. When she yelped he chuckled lowly, soothing the area with a smattering of kisses.

By the time he finally moved to where she needed him most, Alice was trembling with need. Russell took firm hold of her thighs before dipping his face between, running his tongue over her exposed sweetness in a long lap. His lover clutched at the coverlet, immediately burying her face in the pillow beneath her head to muffle the loud moan that burst from her throat. 

But Russell gave her no quarter. He licked over her swollen lower lips before his tongue slid between – into the very core of her. The sound that escaped Alice was almost animalistic and he reveled in it as he worked to milk her orgasm from her. She writhed on the tip of his tongue, both trying to escape his ministrations and bucking back against his mouth. Russell took all she had to give without the slightest hesitation.

His hand moved forward to toy with the sensitive bud of her clit, stroking gently, and then with more vigor until Alice released a flood of honey against his tongue. Russell groaned, all but pressing his face to her sacred haven in an attempt to keep from spilling a single drop. Alice’s thighs quivered beautifully, glistening with her wetness – and by the time Russell finished, so did his mouth.

He’d never been gladder he undressed before going to bed. Now, it was nothing to kiss his way back up Alice’s spine until his burgeoning erection was pressed against the slick crevice his mouth had just pleasured.

“Please…” He loved how unabashed she was. Alice knew exactly what she wanted in bed, and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it. “Give it to me, Russell. I need it.”

As if he could have denied her.

His hands covering hers on the coverlet, Russell slid forward in one smooth stroke, sheathing himself completely. Alice cried out, pressing back against him in an eager plea for more. She was so tight. So bloody tight…If he wasn’t careful, he really would lose himself in her – and then where would he be?

She clenched around him spasmodically, and for a moment, Russell thought she might have climaxed by simple virtue of him entering him. His suspicious were confirmed when Alice all but sobbed, trying to calm herself. He was overcome with the strange urge to comfort her – to tell her things that weren’t true. That he would always be with her – that he wanted nothing more than to see her smiling always.

Sentiments he’d never even begun to ponder with any other woman.

Instead of speaking, however, Russell merely withdrew to thrust in almost brutally. Alice bit her lip against the cry that welled in her throat, her fingers curling into tight fists beneath his own. She wiggled her arse back against his cock, squeezing him so divinely that Russell thought he must have died and gone to heaven.

He quickly worked his way into a punishing rhythm, snapping his hips against hers with such force that he thought she might complain. But, not Alice. She hungrily devoured each and every thrust, trembling beneath him as she moaned and sighed his name.

She was so goddamn beautiful that it hurt – tanned, sweat-slick skin, dark hair tangled and flowing over her shoulders…When she looked back at him with sultry, lust-filled blue eyes, it took everything Russell had not to come then and there.

She had bewitched him, that’s all there was to it. He couldn’t picture being with any other woman in her wake – and that was the end of it.

Lowering his head, Russell kissed her neck before biting firmly – making her clench even more tightly around him. He could feel her starting to shake – feel her stomach start to contract in anticipation of her coming orgasm.

“Yes…” A tortured groan escaped him as his hips moved obscenely – greedily – against hers. “Come for me, Alice.”

She barely lasted five seconds more.

At the peak of a particularly deep thrust, Alice clamped down on him, her inner muscles milking his cock exquisitely. Russell grunted loudly, biting down on her neck once more as he spilled himself inside her clenching, wet heat in an orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on.

Eventually, however, he was forced to come back to earth, and when it did, it was to the vision of Alice slumped on the bed beneath him, looking at him over her shoulder with a dark brow raised almost imperiously. “Are you alright back there?” She murmured, her voice thick in the aftermath of their loving.

In reply, he merely slid from her – even as she reached for him in an attempt to keep him buried inside her. When he lay down beside her, he immediately pulled her flush against him. “Now I’m tired.”

Alice laughed softly against his collarbone before placing a gentle, heart-stopping kiss there that sent warmth through his body. “Sleep then. You might hate me in the morning.”

Hate her?

Once, Russell thought he might be able to. Just after they met, Alice had driven him almost crazy. When he barely knew her and all he could do was think about the way she smiled – the way she smelled and the way she laughed…he thought he could grow to hate a woman who had so instantly won his interest.

But now, Russell knew different. He could never hate Alice Tate.

Even if she might very well be his undoing.

**

When the next day dawned bright and sunny, Russell woke to an empty bed. He, however, had no time to feel bereft. Instead, he had a meeting with Regina – and he wasn’t looking forward to telling her the previous night’s negotiations hadn’t exactly gone in her favor.

The memory that he had an afternoon trek planned with Alice, however, buoyed his mood. Russell was humming a ditty even he didn’t know the words to as he headed towards Regina’s suite – and despite the fact that she wasn’t happy with the news he brought, he still had a smile on his face as he left. All that remained was a quick lunch and a shower and then Alice was his for the rest of the evening.

Nothing could break his mood – or so he thought.

When Alice sent him a text to meet her in front of the hotel, he was only too happy to oblige. Freshly showered and shaved, he wondered, blithely, if she would like his newly shaven jaw as much as she liked the stubbly one.

The thought, however, caught him completely off guard.

Russell stared at himself in the mirror. How long had it been since he considered what a woman thought of his appearance before he himself? He didn’t think that had ever happened. At least, not that he could remember.

He contemplated as he headed down the hall towards the lobby. By then, his smile had changed to a contemplative frown – one that he reminded himself to work on before he saw Alice. When he emerged into the afternoon sunshine, however, the sight of her at the curb next to a loudly rumbling motorbike stopped him in his tracks.

He was almost immediately forced back to his past.

Blood. Blood everywhere. It was streaked across the street from the site where they crashed all the way across the intersection. Amy was covered in it, and Russell didn’t know if it was his or hers. The car had come out of nowhere. One second, the road had been clear and the next…

His head still rang from the impact and Amy…. her normally brilliant red-locks were now colored with a much deeper crimson.

And she wasn’t moving.

“Russell?” He was yanked back to the present to the sound of Alice’s worried voice calling him. In a trice, Russell realized what had happened, and his frown only deepened as Alice hurried up the staircase to him, her hair windswept and her expression concerned. “Russell, are you alright? What is it?”

He didn’t mince his words in answering her. “I don’t like motorbikes.” His words were deadpan, and utterly serious.

Alice’s eyes widened as she looked from him to the two waiting drivers at the foot of the steps. “You don’t…. I mean…” she glanced up the road that wound away from the resort into the distance. “I thought that maybe we could take a ride to a more secluded spot. There are roads on the islands that cars can’t get to and I was hoping-”

“No motorbikes.” His tone was cold and abrupt, clearly startling the woman before him. Even if she’d meant well, Russell couldn’t help the reaction the bikes elicited from him – the memories they brought back. He’d rather die than ever mount up again.

Of course, there was no way Alice could have known that. Yet, here he was, being brusque and cruel to her instead of justifying himself.

Alice, he knew, could never know of his past. All she needed to know was that he had an aversion to certain methods of travel…and that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Oh…well, alright.” Alice was visibly deflated, and Russell immediately felt bad for being so curt with her – but he couldn’t get his mouth to utter a word of comfort. If he did, that might lead to a conversation he was unwilling to have. Alice didn’t need for him to burden her with his issues – she had plenty of her own. That, and Russell hadn’t forgotten what he told her brother. He wanted Alice to be happy. If she was going to remain happy, the less she knew about him, the better. “I suppose…we could just hire a car to take us to a private beach if there’s one nearby.” This time, when she smiled at him, the gesture didn’t quite reach her eyes. Russell knew that he had startled her – that she had to be wondering where his reaction had come from.

“That would be lovely, yes.” He did his best to cut the tension with a charming smile – but it wasn’t the same carefree gesture he had offered her for the past few days. This one felt far too much like all the hollow smiles he’d given to women before her for his comfort.

The discovery should have pleased him – and it might have, if only he’d managed it a month ago. Now, things were different.

With a small nod, Alice paid the motorcyclists for their time before sending them off. As she made her way back to the front desk to reserve a car for them, Russell could sense how much the atmosphere had changed. Though they had yet to go anywhere, their afternoon had already lost its light-heartedness.

Of course, they didn’t have a bad time together. They ended up spending a pretty penny to go to a lovely private beach on the other side of the island, where they had a picnic with amazing wines, decadent breads and luscious cheeses. Russell got to see Alice in a bikini, as he had so longed for, and as he watched her frolic among the waves, he wondered for the second time in the past week: how long would things between them last?

Technically, they weren’t even involved in a relationship. There was no label on their status with one another.  They could part ways at any given moment with no repercussions – or so he liked to think.

The truth was: Russell knew better. He had hopelessly entangled himself with Alice Tate the moment he allowed himself to go to her, knowing how dangerous she was to him. Even know, watching her sluice water over her half-bare breasts made him want her – right on the beach. But more than wanting her, Russell almost wanted to give her the things he had given no woman since…well, since the first.

He wanted her to know him like no other woman had ever known him. He reveled in the possibility that there was enough chemistry between them that he could see things…. well, he could see things he had never before considered. A future…a child…. Russell wasn’t sure whether he should be confused or merely enjoy things while they lasted. He was fairly certain that a time would come where Alice realized that there was only so much he could give.

Then, she would be finished with him.

For the first time in his life, the thought brought him no pleasure.

 

**

 

Though the trip to Aruba was lovely when she could find a moment to catch her breath, Alice worked as hard as Lemmy had promised and more. In her opinion, she earned every cent of her paycheck and then some – and all the while, she got to treat Russell Darwell as her lover.

In truth, sleeping with Russell was a mixed bag of emotions. The man was absolutely heavenly in the actual act, but when it came to afterwards, Alice noticed more and more how little she knew about him. Of course, she knew the essentials and what he told her during their time together – but when it came to getting to know the man beneath the mask, she wasn’t particularly well versed.

But that didn’t make her unique.

Whenever she had a moment to do so, Alice liked to speak to the other big-wigs on the set in an attempt to find out more about the real Russell.

Apparently, there wasn’t much to know. As she’d been told before, it was apparent that Russell didn’t like to get close to anyone. He was cordial, polite and certainly handsome – that was what everyone loved about him. He treated everyone equally, no matter what position they held on the staff – and that, of course, was admirable.

But when she sought out sordid stories of the man’s past, wanted to know who his closest friends were, and even when she further prodded Lemmy for information about his ex-girlfriends, no one knew a single thing.

It was as if Russell had just appeared from nowhere to charm the pants off everyone, with no foundation at all.

If Alice had known him for a shorter period of time, she might have found it eerie – but as things were, she was more determined than ever to learn all she could about the man.

Unfortunately, Russell like to talk more about her than he did himself. It was almost impossible to get him to expound on his past, even when they were laying together in post-coital bliss after they’d blown one another’s minds. If anything, since the day she’d attempted to get him to go out on the motorbike with her, he’d been even more closemouthed. Of course, he could speak for hours to her about her aspirations and dreams – about her family and what they were up to back in Britain. He wanted to hear how her work was going and if she enjoyed the job.

Alice didn’t mind speaking to him about what she did on a day to day basis. A part of her couldn’t believe that he found any of it interesting. After all, she was just blathering on and on about fabrics and measurements until even she was tired of considering them. She prodded him gently, then a bit harder – but never pushed him to talk about himself, and Russell always gently deflected the conversation in another direction.

By the time their two weeks in Aruba was almost up, she didn’t know if things between them were clearer or even more confusing. All Alice knew was that she was inundated with work for the last few days of shooting – so much so that she and Russell barely saw any of one another.

And she realized she missed him.

Despite whatever tensions remained between them, in Alice’s opinion, they left Aruba far before she was ready to. It was like while they were on the island, she could at least pretend they were a couple -  that everything would turn out alright in the end. When they went back to LA, Alice knew that reality was sure to intervene.

It started the moment they boarded the plane. Of course, this time, there was no need for a private jet. Lemmy made sure to inform her well in advance of when they were leaving, and so, when the time came, Alice found that she and Russell sat nowhere near one another. It was odd, to have been so close to the man -to have slept next to him and felt him inside her - only to have him barely look her way as they boarded. Alice tried to tell herself that it wasn’t personal. Russell was, by nature, a private person. He didn’t like to get too attached.

How many times over the past two weeks had she told herself that? First, it was fact. Then, it was something she used to remind herself that she was an adult, Russell was an adult, and just because they were sleeping together didn’t mean that they had to be anything serious. Then, it was an excuse, and she knew it was.

Though she had tried mightily not to develop any advanced feelings for Russell, the fact of the matter was that she had failed. Really, Alice admitted to herself, she might have developed feelings for him from the very start. It was the only way she might ever allow herself to chase after a man as ardently as he.

And she had chased him. Oh, had she chased him. Were he any other man, Alice might be thoroughly embarrassed, but as it was Russell, she could only feel somewhat...lost. What on earth was she going to do with herself? Short of reaching directly into her brain and extracting said feelings, she was going to be stuck with them.

She could only hope that Russell himself didn’t figure out and head for the hills. It was still painfully evident to her that the man wasn’t looking for a commitment, and she wasn’t about to ask him for one anytime soon.

Despite how much she might long for one herself.

“Alright there, Alice.” As she was settling into her business class pod, the young woman looked up to see Russell standing over her. Try as she might, she couldn’t discern whether the look in his eyes was one of genuine affection or simply the kind concern he reserved for everyone else. She gave him a half smile and, somehow, refrained from touching him. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to plant one on him for the whole world to see but she somehow doubted that would please the man himself.

“Fine. Ready to get back to the mainland. All this sun and surf doesn’t agree with me.”

“I have to say that I disagree.” For a brief moment, the way his gaze moved over her was reminiscent of the way he looked at her when she was wearing nothing at all, and Alice realized how desperately, terribly, she wanted this man to be hers and hers alone. Biting her lip, Alice forced herself to look away from the almost painful handsomeness of his smile, buckling herself in and settling into her seat.

The flight back to LA seemed to take an eternity, and when they arrived, Alice didn’t linger. The last thing she wanted to do was have herself labeled as clingy. The moment she was able, she grabbed her luggage and caught a cab back home before collapsing onto the bed and mentally berating herself. This was his apartment. The man could come and see her whenever he bloody-well pleased.

But Russell didn’t.

For the entirety of one long week after they returned, Alice didn’t see him at all. He didn’t call or text, and he didn’t come to the apartment - which made it all the more ironic when Michael called to give her an appropriately large piece of his mind.

It had been a particularly long day on set and Alice wasn’t too happy that Russell had, somehow, managed to avoid her for its entirety. Thanks to the rest of the crew - with whom she had become very friendly with in Aruba - she knew that he was around. He simply wasn’t around her. Alice was contemplating what exactly she was going to do about her feelings on the matter when her phone rang. To be honest, she was surprised Michael hadn’t called her sooner. She half expected he might want daily updates on her after she returned from the UK. But no - he waited a good three weeks to contact her.

And Alice soon found out why.

“I was wondering when my all-knowing older brother would finally call to check up on his favorite sister.”

In reply, Michael only grunted like the bear he was. “You’re my only sister.”

“Bloody straight.” Alice returned cheekily, unable to help the smile that spread across her face. “How’s fatherhood?”

Rose had, in fact, been sending her roughly one hundred new pictures a week of her niece, all of which Alice had absorbed every spare second she had - not that there had been overly many. Most of her time had been consumed with either work or Russell -though at least one of those things had changed as of late.

“Exhausting. Victoria is simultaneously the love of my life and the bane of my existence.”

Alice laughed in amusement, even as the comment tugged at her heart strings. She had no doubt that Michael was a wonderful father - but thinking of her niece, at this juncture, only made her wonder if she would ever have her own children.

With Russell.

Bloody Christ, she’d absolutely lost her mind.  “I’m sure things are hardly that bad.” She forced her mind back to the conversation at hand.

“It’s all done out of love, so bad is perhaps an overstatement,” Michael finally admitted, after much prodding. Alice chuckled, merely shaking her head. “Perhaps I can get some vacation time again soon so I can come and take her off your hands.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I absolutely would.” Alice rebutted without hesitation. In fact, she’d like nothing more. Spending more time with her niece would distract her from falling in love with Russell Darwell - which she sorely needed right about now.

“Well, I can only imagine that you must be doing well in the States, if you’d be given leave so easily.”

Michael’s comment obviously insinuated something he wasn’t quite saying, and at the accusation he implied, Alice arched a cautious brow.

“I am. I’ve been doing...swimmingly.” She supposed that was as good an answer as any, even if it was only half true.

Michael merely sighed, and for a moment, little more than silence passed between them. By the time her brother finally spoke, Alice had been on the cusp of demanding that he just come out with whatever it was that was bothering him. “Alice, I know about you and Darwell.”

The young woman suppressed a groan. That, she could have guessed. Now all she needed to do was ascertain why exactly her brother was going to come after her. Was it that she had broken her word? To protect her dignity?

“Of course, you do. I imagine there’s not a tabloid in the world that doesn’t.” It didn’t matter where she was in the cosmos, gossip magazine reporters always flocked to her, whether she saw them or not.

“Alice...are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

At that particular question, she couldn’t help but bristle somewhat.  “Mike, I’m not a child.” Her words came out much sharper than she’d intended, but Alice had no intention of taking them back. “As I constantly tell you, I think I’m old enough to do as I please.”

Her brother merely made a sound of exasperation low in his throat - one with which she was intimately familiar.  “Alice, I’m not questioning your maturity. It’s just...I thought you decided to stay away from Darwell. Can’t you accept that I’m just worried that... well... with a man like him... you’re doomed to unhappiness.”

“‘A man like him’?” Alice immediately rebutted suspiciously. “What has he done now?”

“Nothing.” Michael replied much too quickly for her liking. “We just know that he doesn’t like to commit. He doesn’t like to let anyone in and... how can you be with someone you don’t really know?”

This was a point Alice had considered many times herself. Did she feel as if she knew Russell completely? Of course not. She knew very well that he hadn’t really opened up to her. But she still had time. Maybe...just maybe….

“Alice, I want to set you up with someone.” At this particular proclamation, Alice’s eyes widened. When Elias set her up with his realtor friend, the results had been nothing short of disastrous. She didn’t think another set up was in the cards.

“Michael, I don’t know when I’ll next be home,” she did her best to reject him gently. “I don’t think you should worry too much-”

“He’s an American.” Her brother immediately rushed to assure her. “A construction executive - and he lives in California. He’s given millions to charity and seems like a genuinely good man.”

Alice swallowed thickly in trepidation. She didn’t really want to go on any blind dates at the moment. She still needed time to come to terms with her feelings for Russell. Even though they weren’t technically together, she somehow felt as if seeing someone else would be...wrong.

“Michael...I don’t think right now is the best time.” She struggled to find an apt reason to turn down her brother’s ambitions. “I’m busy with work, I don’t know if I’ll have time…”

“But you’ll have time to see Darwell, won’t you?” The snipe was so completely sudden and unexpected that it caught Alice completely off guard.  She didn’t have time to work on her composure. Rather, her first impulse was to be affronted, and she went with it.

“Why are you so bloody absorbed in who I chose to see? For the love of God, you’re acting like mother when she was trying to find you a wife. Can’t you just stop meddling, for once?”

It was harsh. She knew that the moment the words left her lips - but Alice was tired. As much as she loved her brother, him attributing her happiness to finding the right man was indeed the equivalent of their own mother implying he had to marry to carry on the family line. Alice didn’t want to be forced into a relationship. She wanted everything to happen as organically as possible - and even if Russell wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, everything that happened between them so far happened because she wanted it to - nothing more and nothing less. For now, that was enough.

“Alice…” When Michael spoke her name, she couldn’t stop the edge of guilt that twisted into her, despite her resolve. “I’m not...I’m not trying to control you. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Taking a deep breath, Alice squeezed her eyes closed.  “If that’s what you want, then let me make my own decisions, alright?” With that, she hung up the phone - feeling like a complete and total bitch.

The young woman fought the impulse to immediately call Michael back and apologize. He hadn’t deserved that. Ever since they were children, they’d sworn to watch out for one another. All Michael was doing was worrying about her well-being.

And she had insulted him for it.

Christ, was everything in her life going wrong?

Alice decided she needed a drink - preferably one that was mostly alcohol. And then she needed to sleep until she felt better - whether that meant a few hours or an entire week. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the latter.

 

As it turned out, Alice didn’t get nearly as much sleep as she would have liked. Between being up half the night wondering if her brother hated her and getting no less than five calls from her assistants about various costuming concerns, she might have gotten to sleep around three in the morning. And then her doorbell rang at just past eight.

The young woman was perfectly ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off and leave her alone, but when the bell rang again, and then a third time, she resigned herself to making a personal trip to the front door.

Irate enough to destroy something fairly inexpensive, Alice yanked open her front door - and found herself completely speechless.

It was Russell.

She supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised, especially considering it was the second time the man had shown up at her front door unannounced - but she couldn’t help it. Russell had made no attempt whatsoever to contact her for an entire week. For him to suddenly show up out of the blue...well...it was very Russell of him.

“Um...good morning?” A huge yawn almost dislocated her jaw in her attempt to greet him. She would never understand how he looked so impeccable so damned early in the morning. While she herself had always been an early riser, people in the United States seemed to get started later with their days - and so she had adjusted to a schedule more convenient to days that started at eleven in the morning.

And yet here Russell was, just past eight, making her want to devour him despite her inherent exhaustion.

Surprisingly, the man held a huge bouquet of exquisite roses, making Alice realize that it had been half an age since a man bought her flowers of his own accord.

“Good morning.” She knew she should be put out over his ignoring her for a week, but somehow, Alice couldn’t bring herself to. Now when he was smiling tentatively at her like her welcoming him inside could make or break his entire day. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well, I was kind of...still sleeping.” She provided lamely, torn between making him suffer and wanting him desperately inside her.

Russell arched a brow in inquiry. “Mind if I join you?”

Oh God.

“Come in.” She barely hesitated. Russell Darwell was, without a doubt, her greatest weakness - damn him to hell.

 

**

 

He was an idiot. A complete and total idiot.

Russell had to wonder if he would ever truly make a concrete decision. Of course, he wasn’t going to try to deny to himself that the time he spent with Alice in Aruba was wonderful beyond compare. Even with all his mishaps and inconsistencies, he still managed to enjoy almost every moment he had with her - so much so that he acutely missed her presence the moment she was gone.

The day they left the sun-drenched, paradise country, he had a bit of a panic attack. The prospect of returning to LA - leaving the isolated island where Alice had been his and only his - was intimidating. Really, Russell only had two options: he could either pretend the entire thing had never happened and return to his old ways, or he could try and go further with Alice than he had with any woman before her.

Naturally, his first impulse had been the former. He had been cordial with Alice, but little beyond that on the flight back - and when they’d actually gotten back, well...he’d sequestered himself while he tried to figure out what he actually planned to do. Of course, he still worked on the same set as her - he had to see to Regina and make sure she didn’t try to kill Lemmy while he wasn’t looking, but other than that, Russell made a concerted effort to try to stay out of Alice’s way.

At least until he figured out what the hell he was doing.

Russell wanted Alice more than he had ever wanted another woman. More than he had wanted anything in his life. And so, naturally, he fought his impulses. He was far from used to being so strongly drawn to a woman, and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about her - remembering how she felt in his arms - was enough to make him worry that he was losing his sanity.

But ultimately, the pull couldn’t be ignored.

He was, Russell knew, being a complete arsehole. After what they had shared, he at least owed Alice an explanation. The way he was going, her brother would probably have his guts for garters - and sooner rather than later. It took him about a week to come to the decision that he was going to throw all caution to the wind. It wasn’t like there was even a question of another woman with Alice around. She was the only one he wanted.

So why not roll with it for a while? See where life took him?

He’d shut himself off from so many people for so long, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone he could trust.

He knew that roses weren’t enough to atone for the way he’d treated Alice, but Russell hoped they might be a start.

She let him in - and that was the first step. Asking if he could sleep with her was bold, but when she didn’t immediately turn him down, Russell’s heart was buoyed.  Despite the fact that he’d obviously caught her sleeping, she looked positively radiant - her cheeks flushed with warmth, hair mussed and nightgown just reaching her thighs. Though there was nothing he’d like more than to lift her into his arms and spirit her away to have his wicked way with her, the ball was now in her court.

“Would you...like some coffee?” He watched her take the roses to the sink to clip them carefully before putting them in an exquisite crystal vase that she just happened to have lying around.

Running a hand through his hair, Russell tried to decide how best to approach this situation. It was obvious that he was on thin ice. For all he knew, one more wrong move was all it would take for Alice to be finished with him completely. Was he truly willing to risk that- even with his pride and inherent wariness over relationships?

“Alice...I would like to apologize.”

The dark-haired woman’s head popped up in obvious surprise before her eyes narrowed in skepticism. “For what, exactly?”

For everything. For dodging her when he should have been supporting her. For allowing those far beneath her to insult and ridicule her. For making love to her and then avoiding her...and for not being able to make up his mind when it came to what he wanted. For that, especially, he was an insufferable cad.

“For...not allowing myself to be with you properly.” Alice stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head and Russell took a deep breath. There was no way he was going to get out of this without explaining himself - or at least trying. “Alice...I know I’m not very good at this sort of thing.” Crossing the kitchen, he took the vase from her to set it safely on the counter. “It’s been a long, long while since I’ve felt for any woman like I feel for you and I...to be honest, I’m not sure I remember how it’s properly done.”

At that, the young woman arched a brow. “You seem to be doing alright so far.”

That was encouraging.

“No, I haven’t.” He professed on a sigh. “I admit that you...well…. you intimidate me.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Me? Intimidate you?” Disbelief was rampant in her eyes. “I have no idea how.”

She couldn’t truly be so naive about herself. “Alice...you are honestly everything a successful man might look for in a woman. You’re gorgeous, driven, well-educated, funny...and I can’t help but want to put my hands on you constantly.”

She flushed slightly at this particular admission, but said nothing, allowing him to continue.  “I’ve been inconsistent, and I’ve allowed rumors of my tendencies to make up for things I myself should explain to you. I suppose...what I’m trying to say…” He expelled a long breath, hoping he was going about this in the right way. “Is that I want to try something with you...that I haven’t tried with anyone.”

Alice appeared to contemplate silently for a moment before she answered him carefully. “And I’m the only woman you aspire to do this with?”

Russell could have groaned aloud. He might as well shout from the rooftops that there was no other woman but her. “I haven’t even been able to think about another woman since I met you. You are most definitely under my skin, Miss Tate.”

A slow, indulgent grin spread across her face, and Russell felt the nervousness clenching his stomach fall away. She wasn’t going to banish him, and she wasn’t going to turn him away. The first woman he thought to stay with, in half an age had somehow forgiven him his tomfoolery.

Half of the battle was won.

Now, he only needs to struggle against his inner self.

“So, are you going to show me how genuinely apologetic you are, Mr. Darwell?” That sounded like an invitation if he’d ever heard one, and Russell wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. With barely any hesitation, he lifted Alice into his arms, hoisting her onto the nearest countertop as his mouth fused with hers. Though it had only been a week since he last kissed her, it felt like an eternity. Alice tasted - as she always did - of absolute heaven. And in that instant, Russell forgot all of his misgivings. He forgot that he’d once promised himself to be beholden to one woman and one woman alone as a form of penance.

He forgot everything except Alice.

She was scantily clad enough that it took little to get to her choicer bits. In an instant, he’d drawn the collar of her nightgown down to expose her magnificent breasts and was sucking a nipple with ardent fervor. Alice gasped, her fingers tunneling through his hair and instantly ruining its immaculate style - but Russell could give two bloody whit’s.

Inside of ten seconds, she was tugging at his clothing - which was much more numerous than her own - and Russell devoted one of his busy hands to helping her. Only one handed, it took him longer than he would have liked to get out of his jacket and undo the fastening of his pants; but that was about all Alice would let him get to before she was wrapping her legs insistently around his waist.

It took him roughly two seconds to realize that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her silky scrap of a nightgown - and in that instant, Russell lost any and all composure he might have had. For a full week, he’d lain awake, alone, at night, wondering how the hell he’d ever managed to sleep before Alice. Needing her so badly that no amount of self-satisfaction would suffice. And now, she was in his arms.

Taking hold of her hips, he adjusted his hold on her only slightly to thrust brusquely inside her. He only worried he might have hurt her for a split second before finding her deliciously wet and wanting. When her brazen moan echoed around the kitchen, Russell was nearly undone there and then.

“Alice…” He groaned her name torturously against her ear, pinning her hips against the counter with his next thrust. “Bloody fucking God, you feel perfect…” His grip was like iron. She couldn’t have escaped if she tried. Luckily enough for him, Alice didn’t want to escape. She clung to him, gyrating her body against his in rhythm with the cadence of his hips and somehow, they managed to move in perfect unison.

The way they made love was rough and primal - so much like the fucking Alice often demanded he give her. But this time, there was something more. Whenever she gasped his name - whenever he hit the spot inside her that made her shudder violently, Russell realized that he would never be able to purge her from himself. Not in the way he had counted on in the past.

Alice was now a part of him, whether he liked it or not.

And he would have to deal with the consequences.

 

They didn’t go to work that day, or the next. Of course, this resulted in several harried calls from the movie set. Regina made a series of demands that enraged Lemmy, and Russell had to encourage him to deal with her as the director of the project - which, he reminded Lemmy, he was. There were no less than five costume mishaps – mis-measures and one instance in which the lace of a dress actually caught on fire.

But nothing Alice’s assistants couldn’t handle.

So, Russell and Alice spent the next two days in the sequestered world of her apartment, and he found himself divulging more to her than he had to anyone in a long time. Of course, ‘divulging’ to Russell was much less all-encompassing than it was to the average person. He didn’t tell long, drawn out stories of his youth or have a series of deep, meaningful conversations about his outlook on life. Instead, the way he gave of himself was a little more simplistic. He talked, but not too much. He told secrets, but nothing too terribly devastating. If he was going to do this, the agent told himself, it would be better not to get ahead of himself. There was a part of him that was still nervous that he would lummox up this entire process.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the forty-eight hours he spent with Alice alone. Unlike other women, she didn’t prod him when he didn’t tell her something in its entirety. She didn’t complain that he must not have feelings for her - that he didn’t trust her. Instead, she merely took what he gave her without complaint.

Physically and emotionally.

When he told her of the selfish reasons why he’d left Britain to pursue his own career, she concurred. They had both come from titles they didn’t want to confine them - and they both sought something more. When he told her of overbearing, meddling siblings (of which he had two sets, since his parents had separated long ago), Alice cited her own brother who, she told him, had an awful habit of interfering when she didn’t need him to. Of course, Alice also acknowledged that Lord Michael Tate only did so because he cared about her deeply. That, she could admit.

It was evident, Russell concurred, in the way the man had threatened him. He hadn’t come over from England in person to gut him. No, instead, he merely urged him to consider what he was doing to Alice and her happiness.

In the moment, Russell wondered how he might ever have contemplated anything else. Alice happy was a thing of beauty, plucked from the depths of his pleasantest dreams. She smiled and laughed - she strutted around her apartment naked, despite the presence of her single man-servant. That, of course, had taken some getting used to. But, eventually, Russell realized that Tom pre-dated even him and was perhaps the only other man to so regularly see Alice naked.

Of course, Tom remained completely unmoved. In their quests to please Alice, Russell quickly ascertained, they had much in common - but Tom was in her employ, while Russell was merely under her spell.

For two blessed days, he had her all to himself. The majority of that time, they spent in bed. In that respect, they never seemed to be able to get enough of one another. There were, however, some choice moments in which they emerged for tea or meals, and he listened to Alice as much as she did to him. She had ambitions, he soon found, that branched even further than what she had already accomplished. She liked costume work, she revealed, and would be happy to continue doing it if given another opportunity. That, of course, meant she would have to split her time between costuming and her brand, but Russell already knew of several other directors who had inquired about Lemmy’s costumes, meaning she would have no shortage of work if she wanted it.

She, like himself, was a workaholic - passionate about what she loved. It was intoxicating to be around her. So much so that Russell found himself moving beyond his own comfort zone before their intimate time together came to a close.

“I know it may be a while before we get another reprieve, Alice,” they lay in bed together, his hand stroking absently over her lower back - still damp from their recent exertions, “but I wondered if you might consider another holiday with me?”

Alice’s dark head popped up, her expression surprised. “A holiday? Where to?” Though his insides churned at the idea of the step he was about to take, it was clear she was pleased. He couldn’t rescind his offer now.

“Back to England.”

Alice arched a brow in inquiry. “England?”

“Yes…” Russell took a steadying breath. “My family is there, and yours as well of course. You could meet my mother…. Cordelia Darwell. My parents are separated but still on very good terms. My father...he’s the queen’s nephew….and I have two half siblings as well. I’m sure they’d all be very pleased to meet you.”

He had no idea if Alice knew how hard this was for him. In his life, Russell had only ever invited a woman home before once, and that had been when he was young and impetuous. Atop that, he almost never mentioned his family’s roots. When he left Britain, he swore he would leave all titles, pomp and circumstance behind. He wasn’t in the habit of name-dropping to try and impress people.

But he wanted to impress Alice. He wanted her to meet his family.

And the prospect was more than a little intimidating.

For a long moment, the young woman merely stared up at him, her expression contemplative. Even nervous as he was, Russell couldn’t help but wonder at how gorgeous she was. In Alice’s presence, it seemed, he was constantly torn between arousal and devotion.

It was a strange dual-emotion.

Alice worried her lower lip thoughtfully a moment before she finally answered him. “I’ll go with you to England on one condition.”

Russell’s heart leapt, and he fought to retain his composure. “And what would that be?”

Alice grinned. “That you give me a day or two to spend with my family as well. They’ll be furious if they find out I’ve been in the UK without saying a word.”

“Of course!” Russell all but stammered in relief. For a moment, he’d been worried that she might insist that he meet her family as well. Russell was pretty certain that in light of the way things between them had gone up to this point, her family would be none too happy to see him. If that had been Alice’s condition, he might have been in quite the pickle.

But, continually surprising him, Alice demanded no such thing. She gave him the space he needed - and for the umpteenth time, Russell wondered from what world and what planet she’d come from to know him so uncannily well.

“We have to go back to the set tomorrow,” Alice announced as he ordered his thoughts, “so let’s make the most of our last few hours together.”

Russell smirked at her announcement. He did so like to tease her over her forthrightness concerning sensual matters. “Does that mean you’d like to show me some of your latest designs?”

Alice merely scowled at him, raising herself up until she was sitting astride his waist, her dark hair curtaining down over them both. “You, Russell Darwell, are insufferable.”

And that was the last thing either of them said for a very, very long time.

 

Of course, outside of their little bubble of intimacy, the world still turned. From the moment they left Alice’s apartment the next day, that much was evident. If everyone on set had known they were together and remained cordial about it before, now they were teased mercilessly, if playfully.

It was a situation that, before, would have driven Russell half mad. Now, he swallowed his pride and took advantage of the circumstances to pull Alice aside at every spare moment to kiss and touch her. At first, she fended him off, fleeing his advances and, ultimately, looking around every corner before she went about her work. But, eventually, she enjoyed having him catch her and pull her into a secluded corner to tease the both of them to the point of insanity.

They never went so far as to do anything inappropriate where all eyes could see them, but Alice had to know it was a close thing - especially considering the way she dressed for him. Usually, Alice dressed at the pinnacle of fashion, but with a conservative bent, considering she worked on a heavily populated set.

All at once, the clothing she wore seemed to be meant to work at Russell’s composure. It wasn’t overt sexuality as much as she took into consideration the little things he told her. When he let slip that his favorite color was blue, Alice wore a set of lacy blue lingerie, the camisole of which was just barely visible beneath the neckline of the sweater she wore. When he commented that her legs looked amazing in the hip-hugging jeans from her own line, she wore them almost every day, though skirts seemed to be more common fare for her. She did little things to please him - and those little things almost caused them their decency in the middle of work days.

But he couldn’t always be with her. Besides Regina, Russell had other clients. He had a firm that demanded his attention and a number of other business ventures. As the year was coming to an end, he found himself in his makeshift home office more and more, trying to wrap things up for the season.

Then towards the end of November and beginning of December, he was lucky if he even had every other night with Alice. In the time around those treasured encounters, he was left to his own devices, be that business ventures or his own thought process.

Russell greatly preferred the former. He was busy enough that he didn’t have a gigantic amount of time in which to face his own reservations, but when he did, his self-contradiction was enough to give him a headache.

Alice made him happy, didn’t she? Did he have to feel so guilty about being happy?

What he decided about women had been decided over ten years ago - long before he knew Alice would be in the picture. She was nothing like other women. She didn’t want him for his wealth and she didn’t want him for his station. In those two arenas, she could hold her own - perhaps even better than him.

What Alice Tate really seemed to want, more than anything else, was to be loved.

Russell had to wonder if he could truly give that to her.

He thought that Amy was the only woman he’d ever given his all to...but this felt a bit different than things were back then.

Certainly, Russell remembered promising himself that he would always be faithful to his first love, but at the time, he had never conceived that he might love again. He had never allowed himself to.

Calling what he felt with Alice love….it felt like a bit of a stretch to him. A frightening stretch. Yes, he cared about her deeply. He could even imagine a life with her. But did that mean that such a thing was possible for him?

Russell spent many a sleepless night wondering.

Despite the fact that the film industry was a restless beast, there was no way they were going to film straight through Christmas. In fact, Lemmy ceased all shooting preparations a full week before the holiday, giving them ample time to make any plans.

For Russell, said plans consisted of him calling his mother.

“Russell, darling. Always wonderful to hear from you.” Her warm, earnest voice was always enough to soothe him, no matter how anxious he might be. “How are things going with Regina?”

He chuckled softly. His mother knew exactly how he felt about Regina - thus the question.

“Well, she hasn’t killed me yet, though not for lack of trying. Honestly, I’m lucky I don’t have both her and Lemmy after me.”

“That would be something to see.” His mother’s mirth matched his, and Russell could see her sitting in her armchair in the manor, smoking up a storm -despite what the doctor told her - surrounded by her veritable army of golden retrievers. Cordelia Darwell had always been something of an enigma in British society, despite her high birth. She was a bit like Alice in that she hardly seemed to give a damn what anyone thought of her. She had always paved her own way.

It was that devil-may-care attitude that had garnered the attention of one of the queen’s favorite nephews. He had picked Cordelia over a bevy of other ladies that were arguably better bred simply because she intrigued him. In the days where London society was still very much run by arranged marriages, Cordelia and Titus Darwell had married for love.

It was Russell’s opinion that they were still in love, to this day. They had separated after he left Britain, citing emotional differences that had to do with both of their prior marriages - but they had never divorced. Neither of them had made the drastic move to end the marriage completely, and they still spoke very fondly of one another.

“Shall we expect you for Christmas this year, then, darling?” Cordelia asked hopefully.

For once, Darwell was glad to be able to please her. “Of course, mother. I’ll come home within the week.” He hesitated slightly before forging ahead. “I also wanted to let you know...I’m bringing someone home with me.”

“Oh?” A genuine surprise was rampant in Cordelia’s voice. “A woman, darling?”

Russell smiled sardonically. Though his mother had never tried to force him into marriage, she was always asking after his latest romantic conquest. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t seen the need to tell her about Alice. Part of him hoped Cordelia might have learned about her from another source. It was always complicated having to explain one’s love life to one’s mother.

“Her name is Alice Tate. I... I’d very much like for you to meet her.”

Even that much was a stretch for him, and he hoped his mother didn’t pursue things much further. Luckily for him, Cordelia Darwell knew her son.

“If you think highly of her, darling, I’m sure I will too.” There was no question that his mother knew the Tate name. Everyone in Britain knew the Tates. Now Russell only had to wonder what she was going to do with the information.  “When shall I expect you?”

Russell smiled in relief. “Three days or so. I’ll fly into Britain on the jet.”

“Oooh, looking to impress someone, are we?” He had to grant his mother that jibe, if nothing else. Without it, she wouldn’t be Cordelia Darwell.

“As you say, mother. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“And I you, my sweet.”

And just like that, the grand move was orchestrated. Russell hung up feeling no less nervous than he had upon calling. Being Stateside with Alice was one thing - returning to Britain was quite another.

But if he wanted her - really wanted her - this was an obstacle that would have to be overcome. Like every obstacle in his life that Russell had overcome.

He could succeed. He would succeed.

He had never failed in a business venture he endeavored upon - why would he fail now?

 

Alice, he was relieved to find, was aptly thrilled at the prospect of spending Christmas with his family, provided that she spent a portion of the day with her own family as well. She packed a gorgeous blue velvet gown for Christmas dinner - something she told him was from her winter line the year before. Russell was strongly tempted to find every piece and see her in it. Nothing less would satisfy him.

As enthusiastic as she was about accompanying him, Alice still hesitated before boarding.

“Russell,” she gazed up at him on the steps of the plane, clad in an utterly enchanting black lace gown that he was certain would be gone as soon as they reached cruising altitude, “Are you sure about this?”

The Russell of one year ago would have taken her out without hesitation. Would have sent her home right then and there and patted himself on the back for dodging the bullet. But he wasn’t the Russell of one year ago, and he was determined to prove it to himself.  Leaning down, he caught Alice’s face between his hands and kissed her slowly - lingeringly.

“I’m sure.” The smile he gave her was utterly genuine, and Alice beamed in reply, taking the hand he offered her to board the plane. Then, there was no going back.

In order to temper his apprehension, Russell spent the majority of the trip to London absorbed in his lover. Alice voiced not a single protest when he unbuckled her from her seat the moment they reached twenty thousand feet and whisked her into the private jet’s lavish bedroom. There, he took to committing every inch of her to memory with both his lips and hands. He brought her to peak after peak until she begged for succor - and only then did he finally enter her, assuaging her desires.

Despite how many times they’d been together, Alice still felt like a vice around him. Nothing compared to the exquisite perfection of being inside her - and it was there he stayed for more than half the flight.

When they left LA, it was a balmy sixty-five degrees with the sun shining relentlessly. They arrived in the UK to a light dusting of snow over the capitol, at which Alice wondered after spending the last few months Stateside. Russell couldn’t help but find her enthusiasm infectious, and for almost the entirety of the trip to the manor, Russell merely basked in the happiness she brought him. They stopped at one of his favorite cafes for supper, and he found himself gratified to introduce her to the staff. Alice, despite all her trappings, was neither high maintenance or demanding, even offering to clear their table herself, as there were few customers in the cafe.

Ultimately, however, Russell had to face the music.

“Alice…” The closer they drew to the Darwell manor - smack in the center of London - the more uncomfortable he became. “I implore your...patience when it comes to my family.”

Alice looked at him in surprise. “Patience? Russell, I’m sure they’re all better bred than I am, if what you’ve told me is any indication.”

At that, he could help but chuckle warily. “My mother, perhaps. But my siblings…. Franklin in particular...can be a bit forward.”

Alice’s answering grin was amused and wry. “Is he going to try and steal me from you, then?”

Russell grimaced. “Dear God, no.” At least, he hoped not. If Franklin took a liking to Alice, he might think the apocalypse had come.  His brother was of the very conceited opinion that he was above any and all romance. Unlike Russell, who steered clear of women because of certain promises he made himself, Franklin avoided it because he felt romance silly and beneath him.

A macho man if Russell had ever encountered one, that was for certain.

“And what of your sister, Janeane? Will she grind my bones to make her bread?” Russell felt they were equally insufferable, at least in his opinion.

“Janeane is fine.” He acquiesced. He actually thought his sister would get along admirably with Alice. She might even already be a fan of the designer’s line. “She’ll love you.” As they pulled past the gleaming gates of the estate, he caught Alice gaping a bit. Though Russell knew she came from money, he knew that having a father descendant from the queen herself had its own set of perks - their lavish house in London being chief amongst them. Many said that the splendor of the Darwell manor was only outdone by Buckingham Palace itself. At any rate, Russell had always been cognizant of their immense house and the gardens surrounding it. His mother always complained that the cost to maintain them was astronomical and she’d rather grow fare she could eat like in Medieval periods.

That always made his father and him laugh.

As he helped Alice from the car, however, Russell wasn’t laughing. He was too busy staring at the immense double doors before them, and wondering what on earth he’d gotten himself into.