Chapter Nine

Ella

"That's a wrap, everyone. Well done."

There's a collective sigh of relief that we've finally reached the end of recording. The season might only have been ten shows long, but sometimes it's felt like it would never end. The last two have been particularly difficult, because they're going to air in the run-up to Christmas, so they were themed around festive cooking… not for Christmas dinner itself, of course; Kennedy clearly felt that had been covered with the Thanksgiving show. For Christmas, the ‘questions' related to ‘easy meals to cook for busy moms', and ‘party food', both of which required an enormous amount of work on my part. On top of that, the set had to be decorated, which caused some consternation when it had to be dismantled and then re-erected… and made to look exactly the same a week later, with not a fairy light out of place.

The decorations feel a little premature, considering we still haven't celebrated Thanksgiving yet, but I guess that's how it works in television, and as I look around the studio, everyone seems quite happy.

I'm happy, too… but that's because I'm so in love with Mac it's breathtaking.

We've spent every night together since that first one; sometimes at his place, and sometimes at mine, although it took him a while to get used to my apartment. I remember he laughed out loud when I first showed him into my bedroom, after we'd eaten the French onion soup, and cleaned up the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" I looked up at his sparkling eyes as they wandered around the room.

I'll admit, it's enormous, and is effectively divided into two halves. The main part of the room is taken up with my king-sized bed, the floor-to-ceiling windows covered by pale gray drapes. The other half of the room features a deep, white, cozy couch, which sits in front of a huge television screen.

"Nothing." He smiled and lifted me into his arms. "Except I think we could dispense with the rest of your apartment and just live in here, couldn't we?"

"We could. If there was a kitchen."

He chuckled and kissed me… like he meant it.

If the night before had been all about setting my mind at rest with gentle lovemaking, that night was definitely his way of showing me that my money didn't matter in the slightest… that he'd take me any way he could have me. And he did… repeatedly. Not just in the kitchen, while the onion soup was cooking, but also up against the wall in my bedroom, and on the cozy couch, and finally, in my bed.

The next night, after a long day of recording, we went to Mac's place again. That was my choice, because I wanted to show him I didn't need the trappings of wealth. I'd meant it when I said I loved his place… I do, and I wanted to go there and show him how much.

For the first time, we rode up in the elevator together. We might have done so at my apartment block, but he was otherwise occupied – or perhaps that should be overwhelmed – worrying about how I came to live in such a place. That night, though, as we ascended to his apartment, I realized what he'd meant about being in a confined space. It was as though there was no air. I was certainly struggling to breathe, and almost as soon as the doors closed, our lips met in the most passionate of kisses. Our jackets were soon consigned to the floor, as was his t-shirt. He undid my blouse, pulling it from my jeans, and then startled when the elevator doors opened.

"Oh… God." I glanced outside, but there was no-one there. Why would there be? Mac has the top floor to himself, and he looked down at me, smiling as he bent to grab our clothes from the floor, then pulled my blouse closed and took my hand, dragging me out into the hall.

We ran to his apartment, and he fumbled with the keys, letting us in before he dropped everything and lifted me into his arms, carrying me to the stairs.

"What's wrong with the couch, Mac? Or the floor? Why are we wasting time going upstairs?" I was desperate for him, and didn't want to wait another minute.

"I don't have any condoms down here."

"But you keep some in your wallet."

He went up the stairs anyway, putting me down beside the bed. "I know… but I used them all last night and this morning, at your place."

"Oh." I looked up at him, smiling. "Maybe we should keep a supply at my apartment?"

"Sure, but can we discuss condoms another time?" He looked down at me, his eyes on fire. "I've got better things to be doing right now."

"You have?"

"Yeah." He put his fingers in the top of my jeans and pulled me closer.

I shuddered against him and clung to his shoulders as he peeled me out of the rest of my clothes…

Since that night, we've made sure there are condoms at both my place and his, and Mac always keeps some in his wallet, too… just in case.

We haven't exactly alternated between the two apartments, and I think we've probably spent more time at his than at mine… although we were at mine a couple of weeks ago, on the evening that my period started. It was my first one since we'd started seeing each other, and for some reason, I'd forgotten how awful they can be… and how unexpected. I've never really worked out whether it's a good thing, or a bad one, that I get no warning when my periods are due, but either way, I was glad to be at home that evening. Apart from anything else, I needed sanitary pads and a change of underwear.

We'd only just got in from work, after a hard Thursday of recording, and I'd gone to the bathroom, taking a lot longer than either of us had expected. When I came out again, Mac frowned, then got up from his place on the couch and came straight to me.

"Ella? What's wrong? You look really pale."

"Nothing's wrong. My period's just started, that's all."

"Oh. Are you okay?" He put his arms around me and I nestled against him.

"I'll be fine."

"You don't look fine." He turned me around and sat me down on the couch. "At the risk of bringing up my exes, they all had periods, but I can honestly say none of them ever looked quite this ill."

He sat beside me, and I took his hand in mine. "I'm not ill, Mac. And I'm used to it. The cramps will be horrendous for a couple of days, I'll feel washed out, and tired beyond words… and then I'll be okay again."

"That doesn't sound like something you should have to get used to."

"It's not optional, I'm afraid."

He smiled, although I could still see the worry in his eyes.

"How have I never noticed this before?" he asked.

"Noticed what?"

"How bad your periods are."

"This is the first one I've had since we've been together," I said, and he nodded his head.

"I know, but I've been paying fairly close attention to you since the moment we met. I would have thought I'd have noticed something like this."

I smiled and rested against him. "The last one started on a Friday, so by the time I got back to work on the Monday, I was over the worst of it."

"Oh… I see. I don't feel so bad now."

"Bad about what?" I asked.

"Being so incredibly unobservant."

"You're not."

He nodded. "Is there anything you want? Anything you need? I'd offer to cook us something, but I'm fairly sure that would only make you feel worse… so why don't I order in?"

"That sounds lovely."

It was, and although I think he was a little startled by the way my periods wipe me out, he couldn't have been more considerate. He did everything for me, held me when I needed him, and went out of his way to be attentive at work, while still not giving away our relationship – which was an achievement in itself.

I think that was when I first realized that, even though sex is important – to both of us – just being together means far more.

It means everything…

Kennedy comes into the studio, startling me back to reality, and I glance at Mac to find he's staring at me, with a smile on his lips. I know why that is… it's because, after today, we won't be working anymore. That might seem like a bad thing, but at least we can stop pretending. We can be ourselves all the time, and I think we're both looking forward to that.

Mac's been wondering what he's going to do now our contracts here are over, and I've been doing the same. So far, we haven't come up with any solutions, but there's no rush. Mac thinks there is, and I know why. It's because he has bills to pay… or he thinks he does. Obviously, I'd cover them for him, if he needed me to, but I've been thinking that it might be easier if he gave up his place and moved into mine. We haven't talked about it yet, because we haven't had time, and because I'm slightly wary he'll think I'm flaunting my money. But it just makes sense… or it does to me. Maybe I'll wait until we've had a few days away from the studio and then try to drop it into the conversation… somehow.

"Thank you, everybody… thank you." Kennedy is clapping her hands, trying to get us all to be quiet and give her our undivided attention, and eventually, it works. The hum of noise dies down, and she steps up onto the set, at the end of the island unit, and surveys her kingdom. "I wanted to come in and say ‘well done' to you all." She's beaming with pride, like she's personally responsible for what's gone on in here over the last ten weeks. Mac is standing slightly behind her, and he rolls his eyes, which almost makes me laugh out loud, although I do my best to focus. "As you all know, the viewing figures started off a lot better than any of us had expected… and since then, they've soared." There's a general murmur of satisfaction, although Kennedy holds up her hands and everyone soon quietens down again. "As a result, the network have commissioned a second season." The murmur becomes more of a roar, and the people around me burst into applause. I stare at them, and then turn to Mac, who seems pleased with the news. He's certainly smiling, anyway.

"When do we start recording?" Vivian asks.

"January. And this time they want twenty shows." Twenty? I feel my heart sink, although Kennedy turns her attention to me for some reason, and I force a smile onto my lips. "Those of you who were on a short-term contract will be sent a new one by email." She nods her head at me, although I can't believe I'm the only person in the room whose contract expired at the end of this season. There's Mac, apart from anything else… and the show is his, not mine.

I glance at Mac to see he's grinning. He's talking to Gavin and I can't blame him for being pleased. After all, this answers his problems about what to do next. As for me, I can't help feeling a little daunted. The schedule has been punishing, and I'm not sure about doubling it.

"Are you okay?" Ruby's voice makes me jump and I realize she's standing right beside me.

"Yes."

"It's the thought of doing this for twenty weeks, isn't it?" she says and I turn to look at her.

"How did you know?"

"Because I feel the same. I think we're due to get a break roughly halfway through, though, which is just as well. I don't doubt we'll all need to recharge our batteries by then."

"Neither do I." I guess that sounds better than working at this level for twenty weeks solid, although I'm still a little wary.

"Enjoy some time off now, and hopefully by January it won't feel so ominous."

I smile at her and she smiles back before she wanders off in Gavin's direction. The studio is clearing quite quickly. Kennedy leaves without saying a word to me, which I guess makes sense. I'm not the star of the show, am I?

Eventually, Mac and I are alone, and he wanders over to me, pulling his red apron off over his head.

"That was good news, wasn't it?"

"I guess."

He frowns, dropping the apron and putting his hands on my waist. "Aren't you pleased?"

"Twenty weeks is a long time, Mac. It's tiring doing this."

"I know… but at least we'll be together."

I pull back, although he doesn't let me go. "Are you saying we wouldn't have stayed together if we weren't still doing the show?"

"No, of course not." He pulls me hard against him, even though I'm still trying to lean away. "What I'm saying is, this way we get to be together all the time. That wouldn't have been possible if I'd gone back to the theatre, or into some other TV show, or something."

He has a point, and I relax, nestling against him. "I see." He kisses the top of my head and I look up at him. "Are we still gonna be keeping our relationship a secret when we come back?"

"I don't see why we need to," he says. "But let's wait and see how we feel when the time comes, shall we? We can always just walk in on the first day, hand-in-hand, and shock the hell out of everyone."

"Okay." He bends his head, kissing me, just briefly. "I take it we can both stop looking for work now?"

His brow furrows. "Probably. I've just about got enough to cover the rent until January."

"You think you need to worry about money, do you?" I struggle not to smile.

"I don't know. I've got this really rich girlfriend, and…"

"And you're hoping she'll pay your rent for you?"

He shrugs. "No, but I don't think she'd let me starve, or allow my landlord to throw me out on the streets."

"No, she wouldn't… but she'd like to know what she's getting in return." I rest my hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes, and he flexes his hips, letting me feel his arousal.

"I'm gonna make her come… really hard… every single night."

I tilt my head back slightly. "That makes me sound like a prostitute… having sex for money."

"No, it doesn't. You've got it the wrong way around. If you were a prostitute, I'd be paying you."

"Oh… so you're the prostitute?"

"Of course I'm not. I don't have the legs for it."

I giggle, and he captures my lips with his. "Oh, Mac…" I whisper into him and he holds me closer, deepening the kiss, our tongues dancing, our bodies rocking and swaying in perfect harmony.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and looks down at me, breathless, his eyes sparkling.

"Do you like surprises?"

"Sometimes. It depends on the surprise."

He nods his head, and I wonder what he's got in mind and whether I'll want to do it here. "Do you remember this morning, when we left my place, I packed a bag?"

"Yes." Where's he going with this? It's no mystery. Last night, before we fell asleep, we discussed what we were going to do over the weekend. I suggested we go down to Newport, but Mac convinced me my brothers could wait another week to meet him, that it'd be better to go down there over Thanksgiving, anyway… and that we could spend a few days alone at my place. I wasn't about to say ‘no'.

"Well, that's the surprise."

"That you packed a bag?" I frown up at him. "It's not a tremendous shock, Mac. I watched you do it."

He grins. "No, the bag itself isn't the surprise. It's what we're going to do with it… where we're going to go."

"You mean we're not going back to my place?"

"We are. But only so you can pack a bag, too."

"And then what?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

"I suppose not. But if I'm driving to this place, then surely I'll need to know where I'm going, won't I?"

"Now you're just fishing…"

He's not wrong… but he's also clearly not going to tell me. Instead, he picks up his apron and leads me out of the studio. We can't hold hands as there are still too many people around, but we make our way back to the rehearsal studio, grab our things, and head for the elevators. I'm intrigued about what he's got planned for us, and judging by the glint in his eyes, he's enjoying this far more than he should.

"What should I pack?" I ask, looking over at Mac. He's standing in the doorway of my dressing room, having changed out of his too-tight t-shirt, into a white button-down shirt, and I'm staring at my open bag, wondering what to put inside.

"A toothbrush?"

"Be serious, Mac."

He steps closer. "I am being serious. But I guess if you insist on taking clothes as well, then warm ones would be best."

It's the middle of November, so I think I could have worked that out for myself.

"How long do I need to pack for?"

"We're coming back on Monday."

"Okay."

I grab a couple of pairs of jeans, four t-shirts, some sweaters, a thick cardigan and some socks, as well as underwear, and look up to see him smiling at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I meant this coming Monday… not the one after."

"Very funny."

He chuckles and I pack a few toiletries, adding them to my bag before I close it up. "Done?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Good… let's go."

He takes my bag, grabbing my hand at the same time, and leads me out of the apartment.

"Okay… so where are we going?" I ask as I start the car and look over at him.

"The grocery store."

"Excuse me?"

"We're gonna need a few supplies."

I shake my head and drive out of the parking garage, going a few blocks to a side road where there's a small grocery store.

"Will this do?"

"It'll be fine."

"Am I allowed to come in with you?"

"Of course." He smiles. "You think I know what to buy?"

I join him on the sidewalk and he takes my hand again, guiding me into the store, where he takes a small cart and starts pushing it around. "This place you're taking me to… we're going to have to cook?" I look up at him.

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Oh, I don't mind. I'm just wondering what to get."

"For tonight, I'd suggest something quick. It's gonna take us a couple of hours to get there."

"Okay."

I have to admit, I'm enjoying this myself now, and we walk around together, grabbing various things that take our fancy, as well as some basic essentials.

Mac insists on paying and we carry our bags out together, loading them into the trunk, before we set off again. He gives me directions, heading north onto the interstate, and once we've been on the road for a while, with music playing softly in the background, I turn to him.

"What was it like growing up in London?" I ask. We've got a long drive ahead of us, so I may as well find out a little more about him.

"I enjoyed it."

"Whereabouts did you live?"

"In Clapham."

I nod my head. "I think I went through it once on the train… Clapham Junction?"

"Yeah," he says. "Except Clapham Junction isn't actually in Clapham; it's in Battersea."

"Well, that's just silly."

"I know, but I don't make the rules."

"What did your parents do?"

"Dad was an artist and Mum was a musician."

"So they were both creative… like you?"

"Yeah, I guess. They certainly weren't at all fazed when I said I wanted to be a writer."

I look over at him, just briefly. "Tell me about your book."

He pauses for a second or two and then turns in his seat slightly, so even though I can't look at him, he's facing me, giving me his full attention. "It's set in a country house in Shropshire, in the depths of winter, and takes place over a long weekend."

"Is it historical?" I ask.

"Yes. It's set in the nineteen-twenties, when house-parties were all the rage."

"As were murder mysteries."

He chuckles, placing his hand on my thigh. "I know, but I've tried to make it different. My detective isn't a policeman… he's a doctor, who's staying at the house, and who solves the murder before the police can even get there."

"Why does it take the police so long?"

"Because there's a convenient snow-storm, which traps everyone at the house, including the murderer, of course."

"I see. And your agent doesn't like this?"

"I wouldn't go that far. She says she can't see it selling because it's been done before."

I shrug my shoulders. "Then change it."

"How?" he says. "I've been tweaking around with it over the last few weeks, but I still like the basic premise, and I can't see what I can do to make it different."

"Have you thought about changing your detective?"

"I can't, really. He needs to be a doctor in order to solve the crime. There's a medical element which only a doctor would understand."

"Okay. But does he have to be a man?"

He pulls his hand away and I glance over at him. I half expect him to be staring out the window, or frowning, insulted by my suggestion, but instead, he's sitting with his thumbnail in his mouth, staring into space.

"Do you know what? That might work," he says, sitting forward a little, so full of excitement it makes me giggle.

"Did they even have female doctors in the nineteen-twenties?" I ask, not wanting him to get carried away with my spur-of-the-moment idea.

"I don't know. They must have done, surely. Especially after the First World War."

He has a point. "I would imagine they were consigned to dealing with women's problems."

"Possibly, but I could always give her a rebellious nature… and I could introduce a little romance as well."

"You could?"

"Yes." He leans over, kissing my cheek. "This is perfect, Ella."

"Really?"

He pulls his phone from his pocket. "Just give me ten minutes to write all that down and I promise I won't talk about it anymore."

"I don't mind, Mac."

"You will. Trust me. Authors can be really boring. They talk about nothing other than their work in progress, and how it's going, or not going."

"Why did you say ‘they', not ‘we'? Don't you think of yourself as an author?"

"Not yet," he says and starts tapping away on his phone. I let him, continuing the drive in silence for a while, until he stops, sighing deeply and puts his phone away.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Absolutely."

He puts his hand on my thigh again. "Did you always want to write?"

"Yes, I think so. I can't remember wanting to do anything else. Not even when I was a child, when most little boys want to be a fireman or a train driver."

I chuckle. "Were you happy… as a child, I mean?"

"Yes." He gives my thigh a gentle and reassuring squeeze. "I was very lucky."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know you weren't so fortunate."

"Oh… I wasn't unhappy. I had my brothers, and Pat and Mick."

"Who are Pat and Mick?"

"After my mother left us, my father employed them to look after us and the house."

"The one in Newport?"

"Yes. We all lived there. Mick took care of the house, and Pat took care of us… like a surrogate mother, I suppose. Although I don't know why I'm talking in the past tense. Pat and Mick still live there."

"And they still look after you?"

I glance over at him, and even in the darkness, I can see he's staring at me. "Sometimes."

"You don't mind living with your brothers?" he asks, after a moment's silence.

"I don't live with them."

"Not most of the time, obviously, but when you go back there…?"

"I don't live with them, even then. Not anymore. I've got my own apartment down there now. You'll see it all for yourself, next weekend, when I take you down there… although I'm not sure it'll be as exciting as this."

"I don't know. Meeting your family sounds exciting."

He doesn't seem nervous at all, which surprises me. In his shoes, I would be.

We cross the state border into Vermont, and I frown over at him. "How much further is this place, Mac?"

"Not far. You're heading for Wilmington, so if you see a sign, take it."

I keep my eyes open, concentrating on the road and the signs, and after a short while I spot one that says ‘Wilmington'.

"Okay… where now?"

"We need to go through the town."

I do as he says and once we come out the other side, onto a wide road with trees on either side, I turn to him again. "Do I just keep going?"

"Yes. Just a little further." He's staring out the windshield, and after about five minutes, he says, "Turn left… just here."

I indicate and take the turn, noticing the sign that says ‘Mountain View Cabins'.

"Cabins?" I say, frowning at him.

"Yeah…" He sounds doubtful for the first time since we left the studio as I drive us carefully down a narrow track until we come out into a clearing with a long log cabin on one side. There are several parking bays out front, and I pull up in one close to the double doors. "Wait here," Mac says. "I won't be a minute."

I do as he says, looking out the windshield as he runs up the steps, disappearing in through the doors. Once he's gone, I glance around. There's only one other car here, and I feel a little lonely, turning up the music for company. I keep my eyes fixed on the doors and am relieved when they open again within a few minutes, and Mac comes back out, with a big smile on his face, and rushes back to the car.

"It's freezing out there," he says, settling in beside me.

"It's November. It's Vermont. What did you expect?" I select reverse gear and glance across at him. "I just hope, wherever we're staying, it's got heating."

"Oh, it's got heating, don't worry."

I'm not sure what that means, but I follow his directions down an even narrower track than the one that led us here. There are trees on either side of us, although every so often a lantern marks a turning to one side or the other.

"Where am I going?"

"Right to the very end."

On and on we go, the tall shadowy trees our only companions, until we come to the very last lantern at the end of the track. I turn left, our route becoming narrower still, the trees hemming us in.

"Are you sure this is right?"

"Yeah… the guy told me not to worry. He said it would look like we were going nowhere and then…" He stops speaking and I hit the brakes as we come to a gap in the trees, which opens up to reveal a tiny cabin. It's lit by two lamps on the porch and has smoke billowing from the chimney. The drapes might be closed, but there's a soft glow peeping through them, and I turn to Mac, smiling.

"Is this ours?"

"For the weekend, yes. I wish it could be longer, but…"

"No, don't." I don't want him to say anything to burst the bubble. "Two days of peace and quiet, just you and me… it's perfect."

He twists in his seat, looking right at me. "Yes, it is."

***

Mac

This place is everything I could have hoped for… and more.

It's rustic, but romantic, and as I open the door and let us in, I can't help smiling, because it just gets better and better.

We've walked right in to a living area which has a large sofa, facing a wood-burning stove that's already alight. There's a small kitchen along the left-hand wall, with a table for two, on top of which is a bottle of red wine, a bowl of fruit and what appears to be a loaf of home-baked bread. I'm guessing this is the ‘welcome pack' that was advertised on the website for this place, and I'm certainly not complaining, although I'll admit my eyes are drawn to the rear of the cabin. It's divided from the front half by a deep red curtain that hangs from a central beam, and is filled with an enormous wrought iron bed, covered with a patchwork quilt.

Ella's sigh brings me out of my momentary dream, and I wonder if she might be disappointed by the size of this place, or its simplicity. I look down at her just as she turns and throws her arms around my neck.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"Is it okay? Sorry the kitchen's so small. I didn't realise…"

"I don't care about the kitchen." She looks up into my eyes, and I bend my head, kissing her.

"Neither do I, really." She smiles and I hold her close, her head against my chest. "I—I don't want to share you this weekend."

"Share me?" She leans back, looking up at me, her brow furrowed.

"Yeah. Call me selfish, but I want you all to myself… no interruptions."

"Who's going to interrupt us out here?"

"I don't know, but just to be on the safe side, I think we should both turn our phones off."

She smiles again. "This wouldn't have anything to do with you not wanting to be distracted by your book, would it? Because I honestly don't mind, Mac."

"It's got nothing to do with that. I've made my notes, and I don't need to look at them again… but the only distraction I want for the next two days is you. No calls, no texts, nothing to get in the way of us enjoying each other."

She doesn't say a word, but pulls her phone from her back pocket and turns it off, watching me while I do the same, and once we've both replaced them, we just stare at each other for a moment or two. I don't know what Ella's thinking, but I'm struggling to believe this is real.

"Shall we bring our things in from the car?" she says eventually, breaking the spell.

"Don't worry. I'll do it." She opens her mouth to object, but I kiss her. "Get comfortable. It won't take me long to unload the boot."

"Or even the trunk."

"That too."

She hands me her keys and I go outside, bringing back the groceries first, surprised to find that, although Ella's taken off her jacket, she's standing in the kitchen, rather than sitting on the couch… but then I remember, the kitchen is where she feels most comfortable.

I dump everything on the table, and go back out for our bags, locking her car and coming back in. Ella's unpacking the food, and I take our bags through to the rear of the cabin, leaving them beside the bed. As I turn on the bedside lamps, I notice a door in the far corner, which I guess must be the bathroom. The website advertised ‘luxury wet rooms' in all its cabins, and I wander over, opening the door, and switch on the light. Once again, I'm not disappointed. The room is quite narrow, running along the back of the cabin, and although there may not be a bath, the shower area, which is at the far end, more than makes up for it. There's an enormous waterfall shower head, above a stone bench, which currently has two fluffy white towels sitting on top of it, alongside a basket of soaps.

My imagination is already working overtime on all the things we can do in here, but we've got two whole days ahead of us, and for now, I'd rather just be with Ella.

"This is why you didn't want to go to Newport, isn't it?" she says, as I come back into the living area, shrugging off my jacket and leaving it over the back of the couch.

"Yes." I smile as I wander over to her. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? How could I possibly mind?" She looks around the cabin and then gazes back at me. "Would you like to open the wine?"

"Sure."

She's clearly been busy in my brief absence and I notice a small pan bubbling on the back of the stove as she hands me one of the bottles we brought with us, rather than the one on the table. I find a corkscrew and some glasses, while she puts a larger pan on the stove, adding some oil. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Steak with chive butter and warm potato salad."

My stomach rumbles at the thought, and I smile over at her. "Why do I feel like I just read that off of a menu?"

She grins. "Because I'm a chef?"

"I guess so." I pour the wine, moving around the table to hand her a glass, and clink mine against it, gazing into her eyes.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asks, looking up at me.

"About two weeks. Our schedules have been really punishing, and I thought we could do with a break."

"And you kept it a secret all that time?"

"Yes. Although you nearly threw a spanner in the works, when you suggested we should go down to Newport this weekend."

She chuckles. "I can see why that might have caused you a problem."

"I thought I was going to have to tell you my plans, but you seemed to like the idea of us spending some time alone… even if I was only suggesting we spend it at your place."

"I love the idea of being alone with you… wherever we are." She looks around the cabin, her eyes sparkling. "But this is really…"

"Really what?"

"It's really special, Mac."

I can't help smiling and she leans up, kissing me just briefly before she puts down her wine, returning to the stove and swirling the oil in the hot pan, adding two thick steaks.

"Can I help with anything?" I ask.

"You can make the dressing, if you want."

"Okay. If you tell me how."

She hands me a small bowl, along with bottles of red wine vinegar, olive oil and mustard. "You're going to need to use the same three-to-one method we used before… remember?"

"Sure… so, I need to count to three when pouring out the oil?"

"No, in this instance, I'll need you to count to six."

"Oh?"

"The potatoes will soak up the dressing, so we need more of it."

"Ahh… I see."

I do as she says, mixing everything together in the bowl, and then Ella hands me a bunch of fresh herbs. "You need to chop up about half of those."

I remember her doing this, although it's not an art I've really mastered. Even so, I give it a go, and when I'm done, I show Ella my efforts. She nods her head and tells me to add the herbs to the dressing mixture. "Then you can set the table, if you like."

"Okay."

I clear away all the mess we've made, and find a home for the bread and fruit, discovering the cutlery in a drawer and laying it out, just as Ella dishes up our dinner, bringing the plates over. It looks amazing, so beautifully arranged, and we sit facing each other.

"Thank you," she says, raising her glass.

"You already thanked me once." I clink my glass against hers again.

"I know, but once isn't enough… not for all this."

We both put down our glasses and I take her hand in mine, raising it to my lips and kissing her palm. She keeps her eyes fixed on mine, and although I'm tempted to tell her I'm in love with her, it can wait. We've got all weekend, after all…

The steak was so tender, it melted in the mouth and I have to admit, the dressing was superb, but once we've finished, I offer to clear away and wash up.

"That's the one downside, I'm afraid… there's no dishwasher."

Ella smiles up at me as I get to my feet.

"Let me help."

"Absolutely not. You go sit down."

She doesn't argue, but having driven up here and cooked a delicious dinner, she's entitled to be tired, and she takes her wine and wanders over to the couch, sitting down on it and putting her feet up. She watches while I clear the table and even when I turn my back to wash the dishes, I can feel her eyes on me.

Fortunately, it doesn't take too long, and I'm soon wiping down the work surfaces and drying my hands. When I turn around again, she's still staring at me and I smile across at her.

"Do you want to sit up for a while?"

She shakes her head, biting on her bottom lip, and I walk over to the front door, turning off the main lights. The firelight and the lamps beside the bed are now the only sources of illumination, and I stride back to Ella, taking her hand in mine and pulling her to her feet. I lead her to the rear of the cabin, drawing the curtain closed behind us, and then lean down and kiss her. She comes alive in an instant, her tongue finding mine in the most erotic of dances as she tugs on my shirt, fumbling with the buttons. I yank her sweater over her head, only breaking our kiss for the briefest of moments, before our lips clash again, and I go to work on her jeans. I shrug off my shirt, throwing it to the floor, while she kicks off her shoes and I push down her jeans, letting her shimmy out of them. She's in her underwear now, and I walk her backwards, until she hits the bed, then lower her onto it, her head resting on the pillows as I stare down at her perfect body, making quick work of removing my jeans and boxers, my shoes and socks following swiftly behind. She shifts to the centre of the bed and I crawl up her body, pulling down the cups of her bra as I dip my head to lick and bite her hardened nipples.

"Please, Mac… please…"

"Please what?" I lean up and look into her eyes.

"I need you."

She's not alone, and I reach between us, tearing through the thin lace of her knickers as I push her legs wide apart, entering her. Hard.

"Fuck… that feels good." I rock my head back, savouring the moment. In some ways, it feels like the first time, all over again, although I'm not sure why, and I take her hands in mine. Perhaps it's being here. Maybe there's something truly magical about this place. Whatever the reason, I hold her hands beside her head as I lean over, kissing her, and she parts her legs a little wider.

"More," she whispers into my mouth. "Give me more, Mac."

I release her hands, kneeling back slightly, and I bend her legs up, holding them there, my hands behind her knees as I pound into her. She grabs the iron railings above her head, and although I want to tell her to rub her clit, she doesn't need the added stimulation. Her body is on fire and within a few minutes, she lets out an almighty scream, succumbing to pleasure. I'd love to keep going, but there's something about this… about the way she feels, the way she's gripping me so tight. She's thrashing beneath me and it's too much. I can't hold back. I howl out her name as I thrust deep inside her and let go, giving her everything I've got. There's nothing I can do to stop it. It's like I'm losing my mind, my body following close behind, as shocks of pleasure jolt through me, my body spasming into hers, over and over.

Eventually, my orgasm subsides. My fingers and toes are still tingling and I can barely breathe, but I release her legs, lowering them to the bed, and in that movement, I realise something's very different…

"Oh, shit." I pull out of her, even though it's far too late, and she winces, frowning up at me. "I'm sorry, Ella. I'm so sorry."

Her face clears, and she tilts her head slightly. "It's okay," she says. "It didn't hurt that much."

"What didn't?" What's she talking about?

"You pulling out like that." She frowns again, like she doesn't understand.

"Oh… in that case, I'm sorry for that, too. That wasn't what I was apologising for, but I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm sure you didn't, but what were you apologising for? And come to that, why did you pull out like that in the first place?"

"Because I've just realised, I forgot to use a condom."

Her face pales, her eyes widening. "But… but…" She can't seem to string a sentence together, although I can't blame her for that. It's my fault.

I pull her into my arms and turn us onto our sides, facing each other. "It's okay, Ella."

She leans back, although I keep hold of her. There's no way I'm letting her go. "You can't know that," she says. "My period started about two weeks ago, so I don't think the timing could be any worse, could it?"

"Probably not, but it'll be okay."

"Stop saying that, will you?"

"No, I won't… because it's true. Whatever happens, it will be okay. I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

"Even if I'm pregnant?"

"Especially if you're pregnant."

She stares up into my eyes, frowning, and I wonder if that's because she doesn't believe me, or whether my words just came out wrong. Does she think my loyalty is limited by what's just happened, and its possible consequences? I wonder if I should make it clearer for her… explain it better. I open my mouth, but she gets there first.

"Promise you'll stick around, no matter what?"

I smile. It seems I was right. "I'll stick around, Ella. No matter what."

"Even if I'm not pregnant?"

My smile widens. "Even if you're not pregnant."

She leans up, planting a tentative kiss on my lips and as I tilt my head and let my tongue find hers, she pushes me onto my back, straddling me and rolling her hips as she settles onto my cock.

I hold her steady, stopping her from moving. "We're compounding my felony, aren't we?"

She smiles, leaning down over me. "That horse seems to have already left the stable, so is there any point in bolting the door?" She takes my hands from her thighs, holding them as she rocks back and forth. "God… Mac, it feels so much better like this."

I pull my hands from hers and lean up, undoing her bra and throwing it aside, then I tweak her nipples, making her squeal, as I raise my hips to hers. "Yeah… it does."

She stops moving and looks down at me, resting her hands on my chest. "H—Have you done this before?"

"Made love without a condom, you mean?"

"Yes."

"No, I haven't."

"So this is a first for you?" I can hear the excitement in her voice.

"It is."

Her eyes twinkle, her face lighting up, and she rides me… harder and harder. I move my hands down, holding her backside and match her rhythm, so I'm as deep inside her as I can be, when she clamps around me, throwing her head back as she cries out my name, and I lose myself… all over again.