Reunion

I lean my head against the cold window of the train carriage and sigh. I am exhausted. It has been two days since I got the call from Charles that interrupted my brunch with Alex and I was forced to cut our day short. Charles had received a call about one of the most challenging books we have been trying to trace. A private collector in France was offering it up for purchase and so, of course, Charles expected me to go at the drop of a hat, even though I was supposedly 'sick'.

So here I am, after an excruciating forty-eight hours, returning empty-handed to a furious Charles. It's not my fault that the manuscript was a fake, a very good one at that, which is why it took me ages to verify, but that doesn't stop Charles from behaving like a brat when things don't go his way. It didn't help either that the owner of the document was indignant when I told him that it was a forgery and threw me out of his house, calling me a liar and a charlatan. At least that's what I understood from my school-time French. I rub my forehead, trying to ease the tension headache that I feel forming behind my eyes, as I wait for the Eurostar to pull into St Pancras International so that I can go home, get into a nice hot bath and maybe have hot sex with my husband. It is Saturday after all.

Finally, the train pulls into the station and I am grabbing my small case off the shelf before that train has even ground to a halt. As I step off, I glance around to find the exit when I suddenly hear my name being called. My head whips around to find Alex, leaning against a railing casually, looking disturbingly handsome in his long black coat and the grey scarf I gave him for Christmas. Before I know it, my feet are carrying me towards him and I fling myself into his open arms, nuzzling into his chest. I feel safe. I feel like I am home. Alex's strong arms envelop me and I feel his fingers running through my hair. "I have missed you, Liv," Alex murmurs into my hair, before tilting my chin up and bringing his mouth down onto mine in the sweetest of kisses.

I break off the kiss so that I can look Alex in the eye. "I missed you too, Alex. What are you doing here anyway? I was going to grab a taxi."

"I didn't want to wait. Besides I have good news, so we are celebrating," he tells me, picking up by the waist and swinging me around as if I weigh nothing, causing me to break out into a fit of giggles. Before I can say anything else, Alex grabs my hand and leads me across to the champagne bar and snags us a couple of seats on a banquette. As I sink down onto the leather, I feel a pleasant warmth beneath my bum and realise that the seats are, in fact, heated. Lovely!

"So what are we celebrating?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I'll tell you in a moment. But first things first…" Alex trails off before ordering a bottle of the Krug Grande Cuvée Brut, from the waitress who appears instantly at the touch of a button. Yes, they actually have a 'Press for Champagne' button which makes me smirk. I study the beautiful vaulted ceiling and the art deco lamps that create a lovely ambience in what is a bustling train station while we wait.

"So here's the thing," Alex starts, his voice low. "I met with your father today." Instantly my spine stiffens but I wait for him in silence to continue. "Since he visited my office, I have had a private investigator digging into his past and it turned up some really interesting things."

"Like?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"Like the fact that he has actually been in the States for the last ten years and only moved back to the UK a few months ago, to escape some major charges of fraud. When I confronted him about that, he freely admitted that he had lied and had not actually been keeping tabs on you. The first he knew about us was when he received an anonymous package with the pictures, along with the info about our wedding that my sister posted on Facebook. I get the feeling that whoever took those pictures is looking to get to me and probably did some digging on you and found the perfect target."

"So what does all this mean?" I ask, hesitant about how much I really want to know.

"Well, I did some bargaining of my own. Told your father that if he handed over the pictures then I wouldn't go to the US authorities and let them know where he is. He seemed quite happy with that deal," Alex finishes off sarcastically.

"That's one problem solved but it still doesn't solve the issue of there being pictures in the first place." Alex's expression darkens for a moment at my words but clears as the waitress brings the bottle of champagne along with a couple of glasses.

"I think we need to celebrate. The rest is being looked into but tonight we can toast that we have at least won the battle," Alex says, pouring out the champagne in both glasses.

"Um, Alex, I think you are forgetting something. I don't drink," I say softly.

"Liv, it is time to put this in the past. Your father is out of your life and you don't ever have to worry about him again. I would never let him anywhere near you. I am not asking you to drink the whole bottle. Just have a taste and see if you can work your way past the fear."

I know it is completely irrational to have held on to this for all this time, but I have only to think back to that night, and him screaming in my face, to smell the wine fumes that make my stomach roll. I steel myself knowing that it is time to pull on my big-girl panties. As the Aussies would say, 'Suck it up, Princess'.

"Okay, just a sip. But if I don't like it, then…" I trail off, not wanting to hurt Alex's feelings.

"Then nothing. I am never going to force you to do anything you don't want, Liv. I promise. But it is not in my nature to not challenge you and push your boundaries," he adds with a knowing smirk. I hold up my champagne glass and move it forward to touch Alex's with the softest of 'clinks'. I take a tiny sip, waiting for the taste in my mouth to trigger the usual awful memories. But instead, all I experience is the fizz of the bubbles with a zesty lemon note.

"Mmm," I say, savouring the flavour.

"Mmm good?" Alex asks, his brow arching and lips twitching in a barely suppressed smile.

"Delicious," I say, taking a bigger sip this time.

"Well then, only the finest champagne in the future for you, Liv," Alex retorts with a laugh.

I take it slowly, knowing that I am not used to drinking, but even so, by the time the glass is half empty, I can feel its effects. I am giggly and flirty and I can see that Alex has a twinkle in his eye as my hand brushes across his cock through his dark grey jeans accidentally.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Alex says, glancing at his watch. "Time to take you shopping like we were supposed to the other day before your boss so rudely interrupted your day of skiving off."

"Alex, you've got to be kidding," I say. "Let's just go home. I feel grotty from the train and need a bath."

"I have plans for you, Liv. And I have an appointment arranged for you, so we are going. Or do I have to spank your arse?" Oh my, that tone makes me instantly wet, and I can feel the flush rising up my neck. I nod my acquiescence and let him lead me out of the station and into a taxi where he murmurs our location to the driver, too low for me to hear. The journey whizzes by. The sexual tension rolling off of Alex is palpable, making me somewhat nervous. He is constantly touching me, running his long fingers over my jean-clad legs and burying them in my crazy hair. At one point, he leans in to suckle my neck, and damn it if the arousal inside me doesn't become an all-out burning inferno.