Onward Bound
The afternoon sun slanted through the large, high windows running the length of the flat, casting a golden glow over the polished wood floor. At the breakfast bar, Nikki Wade sliced vegetables for dinner, finding a sort of soul deep peace in simple actions that others might have found tedious. Of course, only ten months earlier, she had been a resident of Larkhall prison so it was understandable that the simple act of cooking dinner still granted her such a profound sense of freedom.
The sound of a key turning in the lock made her lift her head and she smiled as her partner and flatmate entered from the foyer, carrying a briefcase that was set gently on the desk beside the computer.
“Hiya,” Nikki greeted, feeling warmth suffuse her being as Helen Stewart arrived home after a long day at her job with the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit.
Helen looked over at her and smiled, but it was wan, lacking its usual vibrancy. “Hi, sweetheart.” The subdued tone made Nikki eye her narrowly as she drifted over to the breakfast bar. “What’re you making?” Helen’s Scottish accent thickened whenever she was tired or emotional, and it slurred the words into “Wot y’makin’?”
“Chicken and vegetables on a bed of wild rice.” Nikki put down her knife and slid her arm around Helen’s shoulders, pulling her to her in a hug. Helen made a small sound of weary happiness as she slipped her arms around Nikki’s waist; as if this touch had been something she’d been looking forward to all day. Nikki didn’t demand to know what was wrong or ask questions of her. It was enough to know that something wasn’t quite right, and she held her close, offering herself freely and without reservation as a safe haven for whatever was troubling Helen.
“I don’t want to interrupt you.” Helen’s voice was muffled with her face buried in the crook of Nikki’s shoulder.
“Let’s see, chop veggies or hold a gorgeous woman in my arms,” Nikki murmured into her ear. “Tough choice.” Her arms tightened a little around Helen, making it clear what her choice would be…every time.
“Am I gorgeous?” The tone was wistful and Nikki nuzzled her lightly.
“Aw, Helen, you know you are.” For the next few moments as she held her, she could feel Helen’s body gradually relax against her in slow increments. Finally, she kissed her earlobe. “Rough day?”
Helen exhaled audibly, her breath warm on Nikki’s throat. “Not really. Not like that. Just another day full of reports and meetings, you know? I mean…it’s not like I have any of the shit with this job that I had at Larkhall.”
Helen had been serving as wing governor of G-Wing when the two women first met. Despite the very real obstacle of being on opposite sides of the bars, the two had somehow fallen in love and now, years later, they were finally able to be together.
“Well,
maybe a lot less shit, but a lot less reward, too?”
Helen drew back so that she
could look into Nikki’s face, her expression slightly perplexed. “What do you mean?”
Nikki reached up and drew her fingertip down one cheek. Helen was not a strikingly beautiful woman, but rather one whose beauty became more apparent the longer one looked at her. Greenish eyes regarded Nikki with a sharp intelligence and wit, framed by soft, shining chestnut hair that fell lightly to her neck. She was shorter than Nikki, which always made her feel protective, though it was often Helen rescuing Nikki from her own folly rather than the other way around.
“I meant that everything was so immediate in Larkhall. You had to deal with all the crap, yeah, but you were also there to see it whenever something positive happened. You’re probably making a real difference with what you do now, but you don’t get to witness any of it firsthand, good or bad.”
Helen looked thoughtful, as if this had not occurred to her. “Did I really make that much of a difference at Larkhall?” A touch of old bitterness underscored her tone.
Nikki squeezed her with a touch of admonishment. “Come on, darling, take a good look at the person standing in front of you. I never would have made it without you.”
Helen’s olive complexion darkened a little, the expression midway between pleasure at the words and bit of embarrassment. “That’s different.”
Nikki allowed that the personal in her case was more predominant that the professional, though neither could deny that it was primarily through Helen’s efforts that Nikki had even gone for an appeal to begin with, let alone won it.
“Maybe, but even if you take me out of the mix, you still had a huge impact on a lot of people while you worked at Larkhall, and I suspect most didn’t realize just how much until you were gone. You helped Monica tremendously, probably kept her sane when she lost Spencer, and you saved Zandra’s life up on there on the roof, and her baby, too. You helped Shaz grow up a lot and hell, even Dockley got a lot out of your lifer’s group, though she’d never admit it. Then there are all the other women you helped with appeals and education…I wasn’t the only one, though I was probably the most hopeless case you ever had to deal with.”
“You
were never
hopeless,
sweetheart, but maybe you’re right. Maybe I did make a difference.” Helen didn’t sound entirely convinced by
Nikki’s reassuring words, but it was clear that she was comforted by
what she was
hearing. The furrow in her brow had
smoothed out and there was a bit of her ordinary sparkle in the eyes
now. “Have I told you lately how much I
love
you?”
“Well, maybe not in the last
hour,” Nikki noted dryly.
Helen smiled, and this time it was free of the shadows that had plagued her arrival home. Slipping her hand around Nikki’s neck, she drew her head down for a warm, decidedly demanding kiss. Nikki readily surrendered to the desire that was so easily stirred within her, not only by the obvious need in Helen’s touch, but also by the outfit she was wearing; a plain dark blazer and skirt accompanied by a simple lavender blouse. It was the same kind of severely conservative outfit worn by Helen in the early years at Larkhall, and it never failed to arouse the most illicit and intimate yearnings in Nikki whenever she saw her dressed in one of the ‘power suits’. Pressing closer, she reached up to fondle Helen’s full breast through the silky material of her blouse.
Helen groaned softly. “What about dinner?”
“Sod dinner.” Nikki’s voice was husky.
Helen laughed, a wonderfully throaty laugh, and reached up to grip Nikki’s wrist tightly. “I’ll only take you to bed now if you promise to feed me later.”
“Have I ever not fed you?” Nikki asked as Helen drew her toward the bedroom.
“I mean with food, and not you.”
Nikki loved when Helen was like this. It was a side to her that Nikki had rarely, if ever, seen in Larkhall, but was blessed by it frequently now that they had left the prison behind. It was a playful, almost whimsical streak that came out at the most charming times. Putting back dinner was a small price to pay for indulging it.
“I promise to finish making dinner,” she told her as they paused by the large, king-sized mattress. “I may even bring it to you in bed if you’re especially good.”
“Oh, I’ll be very good.” Helen grinned as she fumbled with Nikki’s short-sleeved shirt, tugging it free of the waistband of her jeans and pulling it off over her head. Nikki laughed and reached behind her back, unfastening her bra and letting it drop to the floor.
Helen kissed her neck and ran her fingers down the slope of Nikki’s well-formed breasts, tickling her nipples lightly. Groaning happily, Nikki started to work on the power suit, pushing the blazer off Helen’s shoulders and unbuttoning the blouse carefully, appreciating every second it took to remove it.
“I think you enjoy these suits a little too much,” Helen murmured in her ear.
“It’s what’s under them that I enjoy. But I will admit, I love unwrapping you like this. It’s my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.”
Helen drew back to look at her with luminous eyes. “You really do say the sweetest things sometimes.”
Nikki grinned and pulled her close, loving how Helen’s bared torso, all soft curves and silky skin, moved wantonly against her own. “’Course, this feels the best of all.”
“It does,” Helen whispered as she unbuttoned Nikki’s jeans, pushing them over her slim hips and down the long legs.
Nikki kicked them off, not caring where they landed, and unfastened the clasp holding Helen’s skirt, letting it fall to the floor and leaving her in only her underwear and tights. Finding that incredibly sexy, she urged Helen back onto the bed. Helen squirmed over the duvet until she was positioned comfortably and opened her arms to welcome Nikki down on top of her. Running her hand up the outside of her leg, Nikki enjoyed the texture of nylon, and the warm flesh beneath.
Clearly apprehensive, Helen paused. “You’re not going to rip those, are you?”
Nikki laughed. “I thought you liked it when I did that.”
“Not when I can’t find a decent pair in the morning when I’m trying to get ready for work.”
Nikki suspected Helen was winding her up a bit, but just in case she wasn’t, she very carefully peeled the hose down her legs, along with her knickers, punctuating the procedure with a variety of kisses, licks and nibbles. Dropping the garments off the side of the bed, she kissed her way back up the small body with lingering pleasure. Several deep, delicious kisses were exchanged before she slipped her weight over to her left side, freeing her right arm and hand to slide down over the rounded abdomen and to the juncture of Helen’s legs.
Lifting her head, she studied Helen closely as she caressed the intimate folds, slick and hot with need. Helen exhaled slowly, her eyes half closed, the pupils expanding as she returned Nikki’s intent gaze. Her lips were drawn back, showing her teeth and the fleeting flash of tongue between them.
“That’s so good.”
Nikki truly enjoyed watching Helen like this, seeing the passion in those greenish eyes, hearing the soft catch in her breathing as the pleasure became more concentrated, feeling the heat and wetness surround her as she touched her with skilled and knowing fingers. Helen’s left hand closed around Nikki’s biceps, gripping tighter as the sensation between her thighs intensified. Involuntary sounds issued from her lips, soft gasps and whimpers in the back of her throat, her breath rapid and almost helpless, but her gaze never left Nikki’s. Nikki’s smile widened as she judged the progression of Helen’s arousal, and at just the right moment, she dipped her head so that her mouth was next to her ear.
“Come for me, darling,” she commanded softly.
She was immediately rewarded by the sudden clench around her fingers as the full body arched against her, a guttural groan escaping the depths of Helen’s chest. She reached up to seize Nikki’s head, tangling in her short dark hair and pulling her down in an urgent kiss, needing her close at that moment in every way possible as the orgasm gripped her fiercely before it slowly let her go. Nikki eased her touch, though didn’t entirely relinquish it, stroking ever so lightly to prolong the sensation for as long as Helen could bear it. Finally, Helen made a small sound and eased away slightly, indicating that she’d had enough.
“God, I love when you do that.”
Nikki kissed her sweetly. “And I love how you look when you come.”
“You must,” Helen said, a hint of laughter flavoring her tone. “’Cause you make me do it so bloody often.”
“Was that a complaint?”
“Never.”
Nikki kissed her again, and then looked down at her, her head tilted slightly. “Are you feeling better now?”
“So much better,” Helen said, her expression one of lazy contentment, her eyes soft and vulnerable. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, anytime.”
“No, I mean…just understanding when I’m out of sorts. Coming home to you every night makes it all worthwhile.” She drew her fingertip lightly down Nikki’s cheek. “I’m so glad we’re living together now.”
“I am, too.” Nikki kissed the tip of her nose. “Now about that dinner…I think I require a little incentive before I go back to chopping vegetables.”After making love, the two women had showered and were now dressed in silken robes as they worked side by side in the kitchen, preparing what had become a late evening snack. Vegetables intended for stir-frying were, instead, sliced up for dipping, while Nikki spread out some cheese and biscuits on one plate, and bits of different fruit on another. Carrying the food into the living room, they set it out on the low coffee table, adding a bottle of wine and a couple of crystal glasses. While Nikki ignited the gas fireplace, Helen programmed the large stereo system, bringing up a selection of slow and sensual songs to reflect her mood.
Sinking down onto the plush rug that added color to the light oak floor and matched the deep emerald green of the walls, Nikki supported her back against the sofa, and Helen immediately made herself comfortable between her knees. The fire flickered steadily, casting golden shadows over the women as they started in on their delayed dinner.
“Is this going to be enough?” Nikki asked as she spread the herb-spiced cheese over a small biscuit. “I can make something heartier if you’d like.”
“This is fine,” Helen assured her, pleased when Nikki offered her the morsel. She nipped it carefully from between the woman’s fingers. “Mmm, though I may want you for dessert.”
Nikki made a dry sound of amusement. “I thought you already had me as the main course.”
“I’m flexible.”
Nikki kissed the sensitive spot on the right side of Helen’s neck. “You certainly are, especially that last bit you did with your knee.”
Helen laughed at the reminder and snuggled back, loving the feel of Nikki’s slender arms around her and the warmth of her sinewy torso pressed against her back. All the stresses and strains of the day had disappeared as if they had never existed and she realized how extremely fortunate she was to come home to Nikki every evening. Picking up the nearby wine glass, the golden firelight glinting in the ruby depths, she sipped it slowly.
“You
take such good
care of me,
sweetheart,” she murmured. “I didn’t
even ask how your day went.”
Nikki shook her head
ruefully. “Oh, the usual.”
Originally the owner of a lesbian nightclub along with her business partner and ex-girlfriend, Trisha, Nikki had invested her personal savings into a small diner, currently located on the main floor of the building that also contained their new flat. After turning the once dingy cafe into a chic bistro catering to the breakfast and lunch crowd in the area, Libertà seemed to be holding its own after its first month in operation, which, Nikki had told Helen, was probably the most that could be expected in the early days.
“Meaning?” Helen didn’t let her partner off that easy.
“Let’s see, an exploding deep-fat fryer, two complaints about the service and a mild hissy from Jenna who just chucked her loser boyfriend. Like I said, the usual.”
Helen took another sip of wine, rolling it around on her tongue. “You know, I envy you.”
“Can’t imagine how.”
Helen turned her head so that she could see her Nikki’s face. “You’re doing something to help these women. There may be a bit more drama than you’d like, but at least you know you’re making a difference in their lives by giving them jobs.”
The small staff at Libertà had one thing in common with their boss; they had all served time as guests of Her Majesty’s prison service. Monica Lindsay, whom she met while both were serving time and who now ran a halfway home for ex-inmates trying to get their lives together after their incarceration, had worked it out with Nikki before the diner had even started renovations. So far, there hadn’t been any major problems, but each employee came with her own unique set of baggage that Nikki, as manager, had to deal with on top of her normal duties.
“Well, do you really want to do something about this, Helen? Do you want to change jobs and find one that gives you opportunity for a more ‘hands on’ approach?”
Helen leaned back against her. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I suppose I felt so lucky to finally find a job with the Home Office that I don’t want to give it up.”
“Darling, whatever you want to do, you know I’ll support it completely.” Nikki kissed her ear and ran gentle fingers through her hair. “New job, going back to college, hell, even if you just want to take some time off and figure things out, you know you can.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Helen was touched by what was obviously a sincere offer. “That means a lot to me.”
“I
just want you to be
happy in
whatever you do.”
“I
know.” Helen laced her fingers
in Nikki’s other
hand that was resting on her stomach.
“And I am happy for the most part. There
are a few times I find working for the Unit a little
unfulfilling, but you’re right, I am making a difference.
I’m just part of a team rather than fighting
the battle all on my own.”
“Maybe you’re not a team player.”
Helen made a face. “That’s not the first time I’ve been accused of that. Maybe I like being in charge too much.” She felt Nikki kiss her neck, the light touch of her lips sending a pleasant shiver of sensation through her.
“Well, you know how much I love it when you’re bossy.” Nikki’s tone suddenly turned sardonic. “ Does this mean the party tomorrow night is off?”
“God, is that tomorrow night? Already?” Helen wasn’t being entirely sarcastic. For some reason, she’d been thinking the party was next weekend.
“You did invite them, didn’t you?”
“Yes, about a month ago.” Helen sighed. “I suppose you’re working tomorrow which means I’ll have to make all the preparations.”
“Ah, ma po’r wee burd,” Nikki said in a poor Scottish accent. “Actually, we’ll be taking care of all the food prep downstairs in the afternoon, as you well know. And the flat is clean, so it’s not as if you have to do any housework. All you have to do is put on your glad rags and be your usual, charming self.”
Helen put on an air of the much put upon. “I reckon I could do that.”
Nikki nipped at Helen’s ear. “You’re so spoiled, woman.”
Lips curving in a smile, Helen thought about it. “I am, aren’t I?” She picked up a piece of melon and offered it to Nikki who took it slowly from her hand, taking the opportunity to kiss her fingertips in the process. “But you have to admit that I spoil you a little, too.”
“Really? How exactly do you do that again?”
Helen nudged her sharply in the ribs, unsurprised when Nikki immediately tightened her embrace and bore her to the rug where they rolled around a bit on the floor, wrestling briefly, and then kissing not so briefly, before curling up together in front of the sofa. Disheveled, breathless from laughter, Helen cuddled against Nikki, feeling adored and appreciated and greatly cherished, something that tended to be lacking in the larger world outside their flat walls.
“So there’s the work lot,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Assuming they all bring their partners, that’s eight. Dominic and Sarah are coming together.”
“Trisha and Claire, so I’ll have someone to talk to,” Nikki added. “Monica’s bringing Palmo.”
Helen lifted her brows at the mention of Nikki’s friend. Palmo was owner of one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and it was a few of his old recipes given to Nikki that undoubtedly kept the bistro on an even keel during these early days.
“He and Monica are coming together?”
“Don’t ask. I never do.”
“Ah, it’s like that, is it?” Helen smiled. “I’m glad Monica’s coming. I wanted Della to meet her. But I didn’t think Trisha would be able to get away from the club.”
“Well, Saturday nights are busy at Chix, but I think Trish is considering giving Lydia more responsibility. She’s let her close on other nights, but this is the first time she’s handed over the reins on a weekend.”
“It’ll free her up to spend more time with Claire,” Helen agreed as she rested her head on Nikki’s shoulder. She smiled fondly as she thought of her longtime friend whom she’d known since university. “How do you suppose they’re doing?”
Nikki’s body language and tone grew a bit guarded. “Hasn’t Claire told you anything?”
Intrigued by the sudden evasiveness, Helen lifted her head so that she could look Nikki in the eyes. “What do you mean?” Nikki looked away and Helen shifted, turning into her body to take her by the lapels of her robe, the material bunching in her fists as she shook her a little. “Nikki?”
Nikki grinned and shook her head. “I don’t know that I should be sharing anything if Claire hasn’t.”
“Come on, if Trisha told you anything, she knew you’d tell me sooner or later. What is it? Are they up to some unnatural sexual practice that I should know about?”
That made Nikki laugh. “Not even close.”
“Nikki!”
Nikki hesitated a few seconds more, then made a face that indicated she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape this conversation…at least, not without Helen becoming honestly peeved at her. “They haven’t slept together yet.”
Open mouthed, Helen stared at her. “You can’t be serious?”
“Honestly, darling, they’re taking things very slowly.”
“I’ll say. They’ve been dating for months!”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like they get to date normally.” Nikki shrugged lightly. “Trisha works nights, Claire works days…it’s a lot like it was with us.”
Helen winced at the reminder. Once she’d started back with the Home Office, and Nikki continued to manage the nightclub, the couple’s time together had been limited to Sundays and the occasional morning or late night. Although a vast improvement over the three years in Larkhall where they could look but rarely touch, it had been tremendously difficult, prompting Nikki’s decision to open the bistro.
“They’re lucky to see each other once or twice a week. At the same time, they’re both trying desperately not to get hurt again, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Claire and Heather were together a long time.”
“And Trisha…well…” Nikki trailed off.
“It took her a long time to get over you.” Helen mused. “I don’t blame her for that. I never got over you, even when I tried really, really hard.”
“Yeah, you did try, didn’t you?” The tone was light, but a shadow of echoed pain from that time ghosted over Nikki’s soulful brown eyes.
Helen immediately leaned against her, pressing into her body as her hands tightened again on the labels of Nikki’s robe. Shaking her gently, she caught the distracted gaze in her own, waiting until it focused on her. “Never again.”
Nikki managed a crooked grin. “I’ll hold you to that.” Putting her hands around the fists clasping her robe, she enclosed them gently in her palms. “Tell me you love me,” she added softly, not necessarily as a demand but rather as one of those little things that was unique and special to the two of them. Though perhaps this time, she needed a little reassurance as well.
Helen brushed her nose lightly against Nikki’s, nuzzling her gently before she kissed her with loving tenderness. “I love you, Nikki. More than I thought was possible for me to love anyone.”
Nikki lifted her brow. “So, going to take me to bed and have me for dessert now?”
Helen used her grip on Nikki’s robe to pull her closer, while at the same time, opening the garment to expose her breasts, bending down to press her lips against the slope of the right one.
"Who needs a bed when there’s a perfectly good rug right here?”Not that Claire needed taking care of, but she still made Trisha feel very protective in a way that she rather liked.
“Thanks for staying.”
Claire smiled and reached across the desk, entwining her fingers with Trisha’s. “It’s no hardship, believe me. Can I buy you breakfast?”
“Too bad there’s nowhere to go. Even Libertà doesn’t open for another two hours.”
“Ah, but I’ve taken care of that.” Squeezing her hand, Claire tugged on it slightly and Trisha allowed her to pull her up and lead her from the office. Out in the darkened club, its expanse echoing in the silence of emptiness, there was a single table positioned out on the large dance floor, spotlighted by a single beam. It was set with china and covered dishes, along with a vase with a single red rose. Trisha blinked, faltering slightly before Claire pulled her along.
“When were you able to do this?” She was stunned.
Claire looked very pleased at the result of her surprise. “Actually, I worked it out with Lydia. She set it up before she left while I made sure you stayed in the office.”
“Is that why you were helping me cash up?” Trisha turned and wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. “You’re quite the romantic, Claire Walker. I never knew.”
Claire kissed her lightly on the lips. “Now you do.”
Trisha found herself being seated at the table, amused as Claire held the chair for her, particularly considering her earlier thoughts of ‘roles’ they might have been playing in the relationship. Her eyes widened appreciatively when Claire lifted the silver domed covers to reveal alfredo pasta and chicken.
“Very nice. Palmo’s?”
“Yes. It’s nice to have friends in high places.” Claire settled into the chair across the table. Picking up the bottle of wine that had already been uncorked and waiting in the ice bucket, she poured them each a glass. She held hers up, the candlelight casting a golden glint in the shimmering depths. “To us.”
Trisha lifted her own and tapped it lightly against Claire’s, the melodic clink indicating the quality of the crystal. “To the future.”
“Just what do you see in the future?”
Trisha, who had taken a sip of wine, let it rest on her tongue, not only to appreciate the flavor, but also to give herself time to formulate a response. She didn’t want to say anything too heavy and ruin the moment, but at the same time, there was a distinct seriousness in Claire’s expression that she didn’t want to ignore. The lack of physical intimacy between them wasn’t just due to lack of time and opportunity. Both had baggage and it made them far more cautious than they would have been in their early years, far more wary of making a wrong move. Neither wished to upset the delicate balance of friendship and attraction they shared by moving too quickly. But neither of them wanted to miss the chance to escalate their relationship either.
“Isn’t that part of the fun, never knowing what lies ahead?” She took another slow sip. “But whatever happens, I’d like it if you were a part of that future.”
Claire’s eyes softened. “I’d like that, too.” Her voice was husky. “So does this mean you’re no longer worried that I’m on the ‘rebound’?”
Trisha gulped a bit, wondering how Claire had known about that. Had to be from Helen, who undoubtedly got it from Nikki. It was almost incestuous at times, dating the best friend of her ex’s current partner.
“You were with Heather for fifteen years. It was a logical concern.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Hearing Claire’s distinctive solicitor tone, Trisha knew an answer was expected. “I think I’ve decided that whether you are or you aren’t doesn’t really matter anymore. It’s at the point where I either have to take a chance or let it all go.”
“And what have you decided?”
Trisha took another sip of wine. “You don’t see me letting go, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” Claire tilted her head slightly. “Do you realize that if it wasn’t for Nikki’s appeal, we’d never have met? I’ve never been one for the scene, and I’d never have walked into Chix on my own.”
Trisha blinked, surprised at the change in subject. “You’re probably right.”
“Can I ask you a question about Nikki?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did you think you and she would be together again once she was out? That was the impression I had while we were working on her appeal.”
“I considered it.” Trisha pinned her with a look. “And all that time, you knew Nikki and Helen were into each other.” It was almost, but not quite an accusation.
Claire stirred her pasta with the tines of her fork. Neither woman was eating very much. “I did.”
“And you didn’t think to warn me?”
“Nikki was my client. Everything was confidential by law.”
“And Helen?”
“Helen is my friend. That was confidential just because.”
Trisha silently examined that. “I see.”
“If it helps at all, I really did want to tell you.”
“Yeah, well I figured it out pretty quickly on the steps of the Appeals court. Nikki didn’t give speeches like that for all the girls. And on top of that, whenever Helen’s name came up there was just this look in her eyes.”
“Probably the same look that was in Helen’s for months before she actually broke down and told me everything.” Claire reached over and stroked Trisha’s hand. “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved Nikki. It must have been hard to let it go.”
Trisha looked down at Claire’s fingertips touching hers. “It was, but maybe not as much as it should’ve been.”
Claire lifted a brow, clearly intrigued but didn’t say anything. She merely waited for Trisha to continue. Trisha sighed. “I felt so guilty the whole time Nikki was in prison. She was in there because of me, after all, and then I…God, I didn’t just cheat on her, Claire, I took away her outside support system. If it weren’t for Helen taking up for her in there…” She trailed off and Claire squeezed her hand encouragingly. “I wanted to make it up to Nikki somehow. I thought that if we were together again then…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought now. It probably wasn’t the best of reasons for wanting to get back with her anyway.”
“First of all, Nikki wasn’t in there because of you, she was in there because of Gossard,” Claire said quietly but firmly. “Secondly, wanting to make things right isn’t a bad quality in a person. In fact, it’s rather noble.”
Trisha made a face, feeling unworthy of the assessment. “Hardly. When I figured out that Nikki wanted Helen rather than me, I was hurt but there was also a part of me that felt relieved in a way. Free, almost.”
“Perhaps because while you loved her, you weren’t in love with her any longer. That happens.” Claire winced slightly. “Believe me, I know.”
Trisha felt her heart ache at the hurt lingering in Claire’s voice and gripped her hand tightly. “Hey, Heather’s a complete berk, but can I say that I’m glad she was? It gave me a chance with you.”
“You were a good friend through it all, Trisha,” Claire said. “I want you to know how much it meant to me and still does. I don’t think I would have made it otherwise. And then, to look up one day and realize that you were the most gorgeous woman around and single to boot?”
Trisha smiled. “When was that?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I realized you were gorgeous before Heather left for California.”
Trisha was stunned. “Really?”
“Yes, all those mornings in the office while we were going over Nikki’s appeal, I thought you were far too attractive for my own good. But of course, I wasn’t about to do anything about it. Then Heather left and things just turned to shit. What took me longer to accept was that things had been shit for awhile and I had just refused to see it.”
Trisha toyed with her wine glass. “So when did you finally remember I was single?”
“You know the night Helen and I got pissed here at the club?”
“It couldn’t have been that night.” Trisha laughed. “You were absolutely off your face. You couldn’t remember your own name, let alone who I was and what my status might be.”
Claire made a face at the comment but continued gamely. “It wasn’t that night, it was the next day when you held my head over the toilet and fed me tea and biscuits and just took care of me as if I was the most important person on the planet. I knew then that I’d be stupid if I ever let you get away from me.”
Feeling her face grow warm, Trisha looked down shyly. “Don’t know how stupid it would be, but I’m glad you think that way.” She took a bite of pasta that she could barely taste. “So where do we go from here?”
Now it was Claire’s turn to look away, color rising in her cheeks and Trisha realized she was as uncertain as she was. It didn’t make her feel any better. “I’m not sure.” She hesitated and toyed with her glass. “I want us to be together, Trish, but I don’t know how to go about it.”
“I know.” Trisha sighed. “It’s not just about chivvying the relationship, it’s that I only see you Friday and Saturday nights here at the club.”
“We can spend Sundays together.”
“Yeah, and I saw how hard that was on Nikki and Helen. But she had the option to go after a day job. I don’t. Not really.” Trisha felt a lump form in her throat. “Chix is really important to me, Claire.”
“I know, as important as the law is to me. I’d never ask you to give up the club.” Claire was quick to reassure her. Her thumb caressed the back of Trisha’s hand, the light touch provocative. “You know, it’s not how much time you spend together, it’s how good the time is when you are together. And when I’m with you, it’s very good indeed. Can’t that be enough?”
“For how long?”
“For as long as it takes. Look, Heather and I had the same hours, the same interests and the same goals but in the end, it didn’t make a bit of difference. Even when we spent time with each other the past couple of years, we weren’t together. But when I’m with you, I feel like I’m really with you. When you’re working the bar and I’m sitting in the corner, I see you look over at me and it’s like there’s no one else in the whole club.”
Trisha managed a smile. “For me, there isn’t. You’re the only one who counts.”
“Then let’s be happy with it. We’ll figure out the rest as it comes.”And Nikki couldn’t deny that it afforded her the pleasure of watching Helen sleep. She looked so much younger and more innocent in slumber, much as the adolescent she must have been at one time. Sometimes Nikki thought about Helen’s life, how she had lost her mother at such a young age, leaving her in the sole care of a stern and judgmental father, and it made her heart ache. She wished that Helen would share more about that time with her, but for now, she wasn’t going to push. Helen would come to it when she was ready.
Leaning over, Nikki lightly pressed her lips to Helen’s temple, kissing her good-bye before starting her day. She wasn’t careful enough and Helen stirred, making a sleepy sound as she reached out to wrap her arms around Nikki before she could escape.
“Sorry, darling,” Nikki murmured as she hugged her back, feeling soft lips nuzzle into the warm curve of her shoulder and neck. “I have to go.”
“Nooo.” The moan was heartfelt, but Helen knew how early the bistro opened on Saturdays. She just didn’t have to like it.
Nikki was in total agreement. It was one thing to leave their bed through the week when she knew Helen would be rising in an hour or so to prepare for her own day, but on Saturdays and Sundays, with her home, it was beyond difficult. Perhaps in a few months, she could start taking time off, but for now, it was important that she be there to supervise her eclectic staff.
“Tomorrow, I’ll make sure I close exactly at two. We’ll spend the whole afternoon together.”
“Promise?”
“You know I do.”
Helen lifted her head to look at Nikki, her eyes dark and wide. “I don’t mean to make this harder, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
“No, I like it that you miss me so much when I’m not here,” Nikki told her in that soft tone reserved just for Helen. She eased her over onto her back, settling lightly on top of her. With exquisite tenderness, she kissed her mouth. “Now, go back to sleep.”
Helen smiled under Nikki’s lips, making a quiet sound of pleasure.
“Shh,” Nikki whispered between the soft, slow kisses. “Go to sleep.” She continued to kiss her with extreme gentleness until Helen’s eyes closed and her breathing smoothed out. Nikki doubted that Helen had actually drifted off, but she didn’t move again as Nikki eased from the bed. By the time Nikki had showered and dressed, she could tell Helen was genuinely asleep and she smiled fondly as she left the bedroom and headed downstairs to the bistro.
A large percentage of her Saturday and Sunday patrons consisted of the gays and lesbians still awake from a late night of cruising the many nightclubs located in the area. They arrived at opening, looking for breakfast and a quiet place to decompress before they returned to the harsh realities of day. The rest of Libertà’s weekend clientele worked in the local shops and required a place to get away at midday. After turning on the lights and opening the back door for her staff, Nikki started pulling out trays of eggs to put on the counter. They went through a lot of them in the course of the morning rush. From the rear, a delivery boy from the bakery down the street was bringing in loaves and pastries still warm from the oven. Nikki nodded and smiled at him, thinking that while she had to rise early, it was nothing compared to the bakery staff that had already been on the job for a few hours.Out in the dining room, she made a last minute check of the area, making sure that Jenna had cleaned up properly the day before. From the kitchen, she could hear the thin, hyperactive ex-junkie talking nonstop to Nikki’s cook as they entered. It still boggled Nikki that the woman known as ‘Podger Pam” worked for her, but now that she was receiving the proper treatment and medication for her condition, it was working out. Though Pam rarely spoke, Jenna more than made up for it and the two were fast friends. Nikki didn’t understand it considering their varied personalities but she enjoyed the incongruity of it. And she started to comprehend what Helen had been talking about the previous evening. There was something quite gratifying in knowing she was the one responsible for giving these women a chance at a new job, new friends and a new life.
With a smile, she strode over to the door and unlocked it, taking the opportunity to step outside onto the pavement and have a look around. Customers were already hanging about and she nodded a greeting at them as they shuffled past her into the café. She suspected they’d need coffee and lots of it before they were ready to move on. The first rays of sun were just making their appearance through the tall office buildings lining the street, glinting off the shiny chrome of parked cars. The forecast predicted a fine day with temperatures in the mid-twenties, rare for late September, which meant the café would be pulling shoppers in the area, strolling along the pavement peering into windows rather than dashing to their cars to beat the rain. Nikki made a mental note to keep Jenna over an extra hour to help with the rush.
Footsteps tapping authoritatively on the pavement made her turn and instinctively, her hackles rose, though she trusted that nothing showed in her expression thanks to her time in Larkhall. She was surprised to discover that a couple of beat bobbies were now patrolling the area. The place really had become gentrified if that were the case. It should be the other way around, but of course, in the more troubled districts, the police tended to stick to the safety of patrol cars rather than pound the pavements.
One of the officers was a woman. Tall and dark, with deep, penetrating eyes, she offered Nikki a brief smile. “Good morning. I’m PC Leedham and this is PC Potts. What with recent events, increased patrols have been established in the area. I'm sure you understand.”
"Yes, of course." Nikki hoped her expression remained one of polite interest. “That was a hell of a thing.”
"It was." Leedham glanced at the door. “You open?”
“Just,” Nikki said evenly. “Need a cuppa?”
“Wouldn’t say no.”
Nikki pushed opened the door and motioned them in, hoping that none of her staff would freak out at having police on the premises. She was relieved to see Kate manning the counter rather than Jenna. A white-collar criminal who’d served a couple of years for embezzlement, Kate boasted raven hair, black eyes and a dark exotic beauty that intimidated rather than attracted. The rest didn’t quite understand why she was allowed access to the till considering her crime, but Nikki liked Kate’s level head and steady personality, suspecting that she wouldn’t have her for long before she moved on to a better job. She also didn’t think it would be worth it to Kate to rip off Libertà’s meager profits. She tended to go after far more lucrative targets.
Nikki motioned the constables to a table in the corner. “What can I get you?”
“Tea,” Leedham said.
“Coffee, black,” her companion grunted. He looked about twelve, with sandy hair and blue eyes, his square features boasting a pugnacious jaw. He was clearly attempting to look tough and in control but only succeeded in looking a bit confused. Nikki suspected it was his first day on the job and Leedham was puppy-walking him.
Nikki moved to the counter, standing beside Kate as she passed the order slip through the window to the kitchen where Jenna took it and quickly prepared the required drinks. Her blue eyes were big and round and her hand shook a little as she poured.
“On the house, ‘Nik?” Kate asked quietly, out the side of her mouth.
“Always is for that bunch,” Nikki returned in an equally low voice. “Add a few Danish. Not too many, but enough to indicate we’re glad to see some protection around.”
“Are we?”
“They’d better think so,” Nikki said shortly. She glanced back at the table, frowning. The female officer bothered her. She looked familiar in a way that made the pit of her stomach clench. When it finally came to Nikki where she’d seen her before, she thought she’d be sick.
“Fuck.” Panicked, she turned back to the kitchen, hoping no one noticed the blood draining from her face.
Startled, Kate looked at her with worried eyes. “What?”
Nikki was finding it difficult to breathe. The night of her escape, when Helen had told her she was returning her to Larkhall rather than taking her to the airport, Nikki had been so outraged that she’d grabbed for the wheel, causing Helen’s little red Peugeot to swerve dangerously. The impromptu lane change had caught the attention of a passing squad car, which immediately went after them, pulling them over for inspection. Sitting in the passenger seat in that ridiculous blonde wig and nurse’s outfit, a cold sweat breaking out all over her, Nikki did her best not to look up as the female officer checked over the car. Now that same officer was here and if she happened to identify Nikki from that night, things could go very badly very quickly for all concerned.
Swallowing hard, Nikki grabbed the two mugs and placed them on a tray beside a plate of sweets Kate had assembled from their breakfast selection. Carrying the tray with both hands, not because it was heavy but because she was terrified she’d drop it in her nervousness, she approached the table. PC Leedham was regarding her with a faint frown.
“We didn’t order those,’ she said as Nikki put the plate down.
“Consider it appreciation for keeping the streets safe,” Nikki replied, astounded that her voice didn’t shake at all.
“Brilliant,” Potts said. He snatched up a cinnamon swirl and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing hungrily. Leedham glanced at him, looked vaguely disgusted and refocused her attention on Nikki, assessing her with a dispassionate keenness.
“You look familiar. Have we met?”
Nikki went cold from her toes to the top of her head. “Nikki Wade,” she said flatly. “I killed a cop.”
Potts choked on his swirl, mouth too full to say anything and half rose out of his chair, but the only reaction from Leedham was a slight narrowing of her eyes. Impatiently, she motioned Potts to resume his seat, never taking her gaze away from Nikki’s defiant features. “Ah yes,” she said smoothly. “The Gossard case. I recognize you now.”
“Figured you would.” Nikki glanced behind her as she sensed someone walking up behind her and realized Kate had moved up to cover her back, carrying a kettle of hot water. This had the potential to become rather more complicated than any of them needed and she immediately reached out for it. “Thanks,” she said with a stern look that indicated Kate should get her arse back behind the counter. Kate hesitated, then dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement and carefully handed the pot to Nikki.
Nikki looked back in time to see Leedham watching Kate’s retreat with far more appreciation than suspicion. That reminded Nikki that Leedham was batting for her side, at least sexually. She’d indicated as much during that rainy night on the side of the road.
Unsure whether it granted any advantage or not, Nikki cleared her throat. “Look, this is my place. I don’t want or need any trouble, though I get why you’d have a problem with someone who’s taken down one of your own.”
Leedham picked up her cup and took a slow sip of tea as Nikki felt an icy trickle of sweat run the length of her spine. But when Leedham finally spoke, her voice was bland and casually conversational.
“I was at Hendon with Sally Ann Howe. We were probationers together.” She shifted her gaze and looked steadily at Nikki. “Gossard wasn’t anything of mine.”
Nikki
stared back,
gobsmacked,
before finally remembering the teapot in her hand. Taking a deep
breath, she
lifted it slightly. “Refill?”
The
policewoman smiled
and offered
her cup. “Please.”
“Why didn’t you bring those up in the lift?”
“Already full,” Nikki told her as she carried the trays of savory tartlets, mini pizzas and quiches into the kitchen. After depositing them in the range, she took the other one from Helen and programmed the oven to start it all baking. Then she went over to the hatch of the dumbwaiter installed in the kitchen wall and opened it to reveal five more trays of various fruit, crudités, Scotch eggs, biscuits and dips all stacked one on top of the other. She started handing them over to Helen to put in the fridge. The selection of nibbles would allow their guests to graze at their leisure while mingling. “Did you get the booze?”
“This morning. Lots of ice, too and some bags of crisps.” Helen had peeled back the plastic of the last tray and was enthusiastically sampling the spinach dip. “Mmm, this is fantastic.”
“Oi, that’s for the party.”
Helen shot her an impish look. “I have to make sure it tastes as good as it looks.”
“Of course you do,” Nikki shook her head and took the tray away from her to put in the fridge with the others. Helen studied her a moment as she finished the rest of her dip-laden biscuits, thinking that there was something just a bit off about her. A small furrow marred the middle of Nikki’s forehead and the dark eyes were shadowed.
“What is it?” Her accent slurred the query into one flowing word. “What’s the matter?”
Startled, Nikki glanced over. “What?”
Helen reached up and put her fingertip between Nikki’s brows. “You’re worried about something. Is it the party?”
Nikki exhaled audibly and leaned against the fridge door. “No, it’s not the party, but I probably should tell you.”
“Yes, you should,” Helen said in that tone she normally reserved for work when she wanted to throw a bit of weight around. She tried not to use it very often with Nikki, especially after their time on G-Wing, but sometimes it got the better of her.
Nikki lifted her brow, but didn’t balk at the inflection, as she usually did. ”Do you remember the night of my escape, when you were taking me back to Larkhall?”
“How could I forget?” Helen said wryly as the memory surfaced. She had never been so terrified in her life. “We were stopped by the police.”
“Yeah, about that…” Nikki trailed off and Helen stared at her.
“What?”
“That police officer, the woman who thought we were nurses and told us to get home to bed?”
“Yes?” Helen suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Well, she dropped by the café this morning. Apparently, with people deciding to fly planes into buildings, the Bill have a lot more beat bobbies pounding the pavement.”
Helen felt lightheaded and had to put a hand out on the breakfast bar to support knees that abruptly went weak. “’Kin’ell, did she recognize you?”
“Yeah, but only from the Gossard case. She was actually pretty decent about it, mentioned something about having been friends with Sally Ann Howe. The trouble is, I think she’ll be dropping by a lot more often now.”
“Why?”
“Cause she’s got a thing for Kate. Couldn’t keep her eyes off her.” Nikki shook her head impatiently. “She’ll be making her morning stop for tea a regular thing. You can count on it.”
“Jesus, Nikki, you have a way of putting things into perspective.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been worrying all day that this is essentially a coming out party for me, and instead, I should be worried about the fact that we could end up back in Larkhall, only this time we’d be sharing a cell!”
Nikki immediately developed a faraway expression in her eyes. “Would that be so bad?”
“Nikki!”
“Right. Sorry. Don’t worry about it, Helen. Like I said, she recognized me as Nikki Wade, cop killer, not a blonde nurse in a car from a routine traffic stop two years ago. First time I was ever glad to be infamous. Anyway, it’s not as if anyone ever knew I escaped.”
“How can you be sure?”
Nikki shrugged. “I reckon I can’t, but what can we do? Sell the café and move to another country?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Helen felt off center and it made her words sharper than they should have been. When she saw the flinch from Nikki, she immediately raised her hand apologetically and added in a gentler tone, “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just surprised by this, that’s all.”
Nikki hesitated and then relaxed, reaching out to take Helen’s hand in acceptance of the apology. She knew how little she liked being surprised. “You should have seen me when I finally remembered where I knew her from. It’s a wonder I didn’t cack myself right there.”
“I can imagine.” Helen let Nikki pull her close, snuggling into the warmth of her body, not only because it felt wonderful but because at the moment, she was in dire need of some reassurance. “I reckon you’re right. There isn’t much we can do about it now.”
Nikki didn’t say anything else on the matter. She just hugged her warmly, kissed the top of her head and changed the subject. “So, what did you mean about this being a coming out party? Don’t the people you work with know about me?”
“Yes. Er, well, some of them do.” Helen squirmed a little. “Dominic knows, of course, and Paul, who wouldn’t breathe a word, but the rest may not. I don’t talk about my private life very often but when I do, well…Nikki could be a bloke’s name.”
To her relief, Nikki laughed rather than bristled at the revelation. “So it’s like a surprise party, only the surprise might be on them?”
“It’s just that this is the first opportunity for us to get together outside the office.” Helen told her, trying to explain. “Della wanted us to socialize more, become more of a team, and like a berk, I volunteered to host the first gathering. I’m sorry, I should have told you all this before now.”
“Yeah, you should’ve but no harm done. In fact, it might be fun.”
Helen frowned and drew back to look into Nikki’s face. “What do you mean by that?”
Nikki just smiled and hugged her again. “Don’t worry darling, I’ll be on my best behavior. And hopefully they’ll be so distracted by the fact we’re lesbians, they won’t notice that you’ve partnered up with an ex-con.”
“Oh, God, I never even thought about that.” Helen felt the first tendrils of what might be a headache slip along her temples. “What was I thinking?”
“Hey, it’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” Nikki cupped Helen’s cheek in the palm of her hand, and held her gaze steady with those dark eyes. “Trust me.”
“You know I do.” Helen tucked her head into the crook of Nikki’s shoulder as those deceptively strong arms tightened around her, cuddling her protectively. It was amazing how easily Nikki could make everything seem all right, even when common sense dictated that it shouldn’t be. “We should start getting ready. I invited them for seven.”
“Want some company in the shower?”
“We don’t have that much time,” Helen said regretfully, though she was sorely tempted. Making love with Nikki was not only her favorite pastime; it granted her much needed solace when anything went wrong. She lifted her face to be kissed which Nikki obligingly did, and squeezed her one final time. “After the party though…”
Nikki kissed her again. “I’ll be there.”
And Helen had to content herself with that as she went into the large ensuite attached to their bedroom. In the roomy shower, she soaked under the soothing spray of hot water for some time, trying to wash away the last of her lingering apprehension about the upcoming evening. Once she finished dressing in her favorite cashmere sweater, suede skirt, and shoes, all Christmas gifts from Nikki, and applied the last of her makeup, she felt much better about things.
Turning away from her dressing table, her eyes widened as Nikki came into the room from the ensuite. She was wearing a simple, but extremely elegant outfit, cream-colored jacket and pants with a crimson blouse, all exquisitely tailored to emphasize the sleek, gazelle-like lines of her body. Her makeup was done to perfection, her hair casually styled and moussed, with expensive jewelry that glinted at earlobes, throat and wrists. She looked as if she’d just stepped from a fashion magazine.
“How do you do that?”
Nikki flashed her a grin. “Do what?”
“Look so fantastic after only twenty minutes in the loo.”
“Short hair.” She came over and embraced Helen, being careful not to muss anything. “You’re the one who looks fantastic. No one will even notice me.”
Helen knew better, but it was what Nikki believed and that made the compliment doubly special. She also suspected that other than Dominic and Paul, not one of her co-workers would ever suspect Nikki had served time. Not that she was in any way ashamed or reluctant to acknowledge Nikki’s past, Helen told herself. After all, without Larkhall, they probably would never have met. But she had to admit that it might be a bit awkward if her colleagues realized Nikki’s file had so recently graced their department’s educational program. She just hoped it wouldn’t come up as a topic of conversation at any point.
“Thank you for doing all this for me,” she said softly. “It means a lot, Nikki.”
Nikki did that bashful thing with her face that she did whenever she was embarrassed and didn’t quite know what to say. Helen thought it was absolutely adorable and squeezed her tightly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling.” Nikki suddenly sniffed. “Whoops, I think the pasties are done.”
She released Helen and quickly headed for the kitchen. Just then, the door chime sounded and Helen realized she had no more time to obsess over the upcoming evening. Someone had decided to show up early.
Out in the foyer, she pressed the intercom. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Claire. Buzz me up.”
Surprised, Helen did so and opened the door to the flat. Before long, Claire appeared, her arms full of brown paper bags. “What are you doing here?” Helen peered inside one of the bags as she took it from her, lifting a brow at the various bottles inside. “Nikki had me collect the drink this morning.”
”You can never have enough hard liquor with Home Office employees,” Claire said knowingly.
“I’m a Home Office employee.”
“My point exactly.”
“Sod you.” Helen deposited the bag on the breakfast bar. “So where’s Trisha?”
“At the club doing some last minute things before heading over here.” Claire slipped out of her light summer jacket and handed it to Helen to put away. “Hiya, Nikki. Those smell wonderful. May I?”
Nikki, her hands encased in oversized oven mitts, glanced over briefly from where she was using a spatula to arrange the various hot nibbles on the electric warming tray. “What part of ‘these are for the party’ do you lot not understand?”
“Just because Helen has apparently been sampling doesn’t mean I’m guilty by association. Besides, who was it that facilitated your appeal again?”
“You’re such a solicitor,” Helen complained as Nikki, impressed with Claire’s logic, promptly handed over a few pasties on a paper saucer. “I worked on her appeal, too.”
“By the way, will that come up for discussion this evening?” Claire asked as she greedily accepted the cheese filled pastries. “I do like to know what topics I’m supposed to avoid at these soirees.”
“Let’s just not volunteer anything, shall we?” Helen advised.
Just then, the door chime chirped again. A glance at the clock indicated that someone was exactly on time. Taking a breath, Helen headed for the intercom to buzz them inside, and then out to the corridor so that she could greet her guests at the top of the staircase.Nikki shrugged lightly. “I don’t think Helen’s trying to keep anything secret,” she said as she started pulling the other trays from the fridge and arranging them on the table in the dining area. Claire helped by opening the bags of crisps and filling several bowls, which she took over to the coffee table in the living room. “After all, Dominic was a bloody screw at Larkhall. If he hasn’t told everyone about me already, it’s only because he’s decided not to. But there’s no need to shout it from the rooftop, either. I mean, really, what’s Helen supposed to do? Introduce me as ‘her partner, Nikki Wade, the Cop Killer’?”
The thought that she had done something similar in the café that morning with PC Leedham surfaced briefly and Nikki tried not to wince. “Listen, Claire, do you think this will cause problems with Helen at work? My being an ex-con and all?”
“It shouldn’t,” Claire said, her greenish eyes wide and honest as she returned to the kitchen. “But it might.”
“Shit.”
“Well, no need to worry about it unless it comes up. In any event, you know I’m here for you both, particularly in a professional capacity.”
Nikki managed a smile for her. “I know. Thanks.”
Claire patted her on the arm comfortingly. “Listen, I’m going out to keep Helen company. We’ll send in the guests as they arrive.”
“Wait a minute. Take this with you.” Quickly, Nikki pulled out a bottle of Stolichnaya, splashed a measure or two into a tumbler and added some tonic water. It was a bit strong, but she suspected her partner might need it. “You want one?”
“I’ll just take one of these to start,” Claire said, picking out a Smirnoff Ice from the fridge. Carrying both the bottle and Helen’s drink, she headed out the door.
Nikki sighed silently and set up the liquor on the breakfast bar. As footsteps approached the foyer through the flat door that Claire had left open behind her, she squared her shoulders, took a breath and pasted a welcoming smile on her face. Dominic McAllister appeared arm and arm with a very pretty and vivacious blonde and Nikki realized that had to be Sarah, the office receptionist. Nikki had spoken to her a few times on the phone while trying to reach Helen, but they’d never met in person.
“Come on in. Make yourself to home.” Nikki came around the breakfast bar and accepted the hand Dominic offered with genuine friendliness. Not only had he been the best of a bad lot at Larkhall, he was also Helen’s tenant, having taken over her old flat in South London. Nikki had dropped by a few times since he’d moved in to work on the garden and do a minor repair here and there in support of Helen’s landlord status.
“Hiya, Nikki. This is Sarah.”
“Helen’s told me a lot about you,” Nikki said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.
“Well, she didn’t tell me how gorgeous you were!” Sarah’s gaze was frankly admiring as she looked over Nikki.
Startled, Nikki laughed and saw Dominic roll his eyes slightly. “Thank you. Helen was worried that introducing me would be a bit of a surprise.”
“Oh, we all knew she was gay ever since you called her in sick that time. Dom told us the woman’s voice on the answering machine belonged to Helen’s partner.”
“Oh, he did.” Nikki shot him a look and he had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. “That was nice of him.” She glanced toward the foyer as she heard the intercom. “Please, help yourself. There’s plenty.”
She moved to buzz in the new arrivals, her doubts concealed behind a professional smile and the innate charm that held her in such good stead as the owner of a café. It had also granted her a certain status on G-Wing and kept her safer than the average inmate. Soon, she was too busy with the various introductions while also ensuring everyone had ready access to drinks, food and directions to the bathrooms, to grant her uncertainties any further attention.
They all appeared suitably impressed with the spacious flat, particularly Dr. Moore, who consulted with the Unit on medical policy. Helen had told Nikki that she didn’t know Joan particularly well, but from what little she did, she was somewhat wary of her. Apparently, the doctor’s attitude toward prisoners was more in line with that of a vet dealing with cattle, though it was hard for Helen to pin down exactly why she felt that way.
Nikki was surprised at how good-looking she was. From Helen’s description, she had envisioned someone more hard-edged and common. Instead, Joan was tall and sophisticated, with rich, reddish hair swept up magnificently in a bun and ice blue eyes that assessed Nikki’s material worth in a single approving glance. Nikki was amused and aggravated in the same breath, and immediately understood Helen’s instinctive antipathy.
Helen’s boss, Della Hines, on the other hand, was Joan’s polar opposite. With a generous mass of curled, graying hair and cheerful features, she entered the flat like an inquisitive puppy, all wide eyes and wagging tail. Nikki liked her immediately and spent several minutes giving a tour as Della assured her how happy she was to have Helen with the Unit and how much she was contributing to their new prison policies. Nikki made a mental note to later share all the compliments with Helen. It would probably go a long way in making her feel more appreciated and useful in her position. Della’s husband, Dan, was quiet where his wife was outgoing, slender where she was stocky. He didn’t say much but his brows had lifted when Nikki was introduced to him, and his glance over her had been entirely appreciative if benign.
Paul Davis, accompanied by his wife, showed up a little late. Gaunt and balding, with hawk-like features, the Unit’s resident psychologist possessed a fussy manner that set Nikki’s teeth on edge. But Helen had assured her that once past that initial impression, he was a good-hearted man with an extremely dry and clever wit. She’d spent a significant amount of time with him in a professional capacity in order to help her deal with some lingering issues from Larkhall, including a sexual assault committed by Jim Fenner. His wife, Camille, was the only one who seemed somewhat truly taken aback at being introduced to a woman as Helen’s partner.
Still, Nikki was relieved when Monica and Palmo finally arrived, just because they were familiar faces and familiar voices and she didn’t feel as if she had to be something she wasn’t with them. They made a striking couple, the tall and elegant socialite paired with the swarthy good looks of the stocky Italian, even if he was a shade shorter than she was. Monica’s work in prison reform had made her a person of note in Home Office circles and Della appeared quite chuffed to meet her. Nikki left them to it and drew Palmo over for some advice about a supplier she was having trouble with. So deep were they in conversation, that she was only peripherally aware of Helen and Claire’s belated return to the party, with Trisha, late as usual, firmly in tow.
Some time later, as she was making a fresh round of drinks, her knee was seized in a vise-like grip. Startled, she spilt the vodka and made a sound midway between a bleat and a yelp that fortunately wasn’t heard by Helen or their guests over the sound of music and conversations. Mopping frantically, she looked down to see Trisha crouched at her feet behind the breakfast bar.
“What the hell are you playing at, Trish?”
“What are you playing at, Nikki?” she hissed. “Why’d you invite her? Is this some sort of sick joke?”
Baffled, Nikki stared at her. “What? Who?”
Trisha peered intently up at her for a moment, as if evaluating her sincerity. Then, apparently convinced that Nikki was honestly at a loss, she released her grip on her knee and waved in the general direction of the living room where a group was making themselves comfortable by the fireplace. The animated discussion included Monica, Della, Paul, Camille, Helen and Joan. The rest of the men, along with Sarah and Claire, had apparently congregated in the loft, which boasted a pool table as well as quick access to the rooftop garden where those who wanted, could smoke.
“That’s her.”
“What are you going on about, Trish?” Nikki demanded, seriously annoyed at this point.
“The skinny bird talking to Helen. That’s Joan.”
“Yeah, I know, Dr. Joan Moore. She works with Helen. She’s the medical consultant to the Unit.”
Impatiently, Trisha tugged at her trouser leg like a child needing to go potty. “That’s Joan,” she said again, with deliberate emphases on the name.
Nikki blinked, and abruptly flushed as she finally made the connection. “That’s Joan?” Her eyes narrowed as she took another look at the woman who had seduced Trisha and brought about the end of a nine-year relationship. Not that they weren’t all adults, and Trisha had made her own decisions, but it was possible that without the doctor’s input, Trisha and Nikki might still be together. Nikki wondered why she always had doctors playing about with her women.
She felt her lip curl up sardonically. “Well, small world, innit?”
“You really didn’t know?”
“Not a clue, babes.” Nikki shot a look down at her. “Awkward enough with me. Have you told Claire about her?”
Trisha’s face whitened a bit. “Christ.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Nikki tried not to think about what it looked like with her calmly making drinks and Trisha curled around her feet like some kind of misshapen golden retriever. She was having a hard enough time not breaking into laughter as it was. “Has she spotted you?”
“I don’t think so. Claire and I were upstairs playing pool with Dom and Sarah. I just came down for some more drinks and ducked back here as soon as I saw her. Jesus, do you think Claire’s met her?”
“Probably. She and Helen were on the door from the time people started arriving, though I doubt there was a connection made by any of them.” Nikki took another look. “Say, when did you develop this thing for professionals anyway? First a doctor and now a solicitor? I thought you always preferred us common birds.”
“This is not funny, Nikki!”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“And tonight was going to be the night.”
“What night?” Trisha just offered a tortured look and Nikki let out her breath in a huff. “Oh, that night. ‘Bout time you got ‘round to jumping her.” She started putting drinks on a tray. “So what do you want to do?”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Really?”
“I’m serious, ‘Nik. It wouldn’t be good if Joan and I ran into each other. Just trust me on that.”
Nikki wondered why, but when Trisha was like this, she had learned the hard way that it was best just to go along with it. “Okay, then, let’s do this. You slip out while I’m giving them their drinks. I’ll pop up to the loft and let Claire know you needed to leave and that you’re waiting out by the car. How you explain it from there is up to you.”
“Thanks, ‘Nik, I owe you one.”
Trisha looked so pathetically grateful that Nikki had to once again swallow hard against the laughter threatening to break out. For some reason, it suddenly felt like her days at Larkhall, when she’d be up to some caper with the Julies and to her surprise, the remembrance didn’t necessarily feel bad. Perhaps there were some good memories mixed in that terrible time, after all.
Picking up the tray, she headed for the living room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Trisha slink away from the breakfast bar, staying low and creeping out to the foyer without looking back. Catching Helen’s perplexed expression, Nikki nearly lost the tray as she started to chuckle.
She couldn’t wait to tell her all about this one.“Trisha? Are you all right? Nikki said you’d taken ill.”
Trisha stared at her blankly. “She told you what?”
Claire’s long stride faltered and she took another, longer look at her. “What’s going on?” She was surprised when Trisha immediately flushed a deep red, visible even in the diffuse illumination of the streetlights. “Trisha?”
“Come on,” she said, reaching out to Claire. “Let’s walk a bit.”
Claire hesitated, still not sure what was going on but aware that Trisha was upset. Frowning, she accepted the offered hand, and allowed herself to be drawn down the pavement. She knew she’d get the story eventually. She always did, which was why she’d decided to become a solicitor; to use her powers for good rather than merely for her own amusement. Long moments passed as they walked past the club where the throb of music was clearly audible and beyond, turning the corner onto the next street. Claire waited silently, remembering not to display any sort of impatience.
Finally, Trisha issued a gusty sigh. “That doctor who works with Helen.”
“Joan Moore?”
“She’s the one.”
“The one?”
“The one I shagged while Nikki was banged up in Larkhall.”
“Oh.” Claire thought about the tall, gorgeous redhead. “Oh!” She looked over at Trisha who had her head bent, eyes fastened firmly on the pavement. “Does Nikki know?”
“I told her. She helped me sneak out.”
“Why did you have to sneak out?”
“I didn’t want to cause a scene at Helen’s party.”
“There’d be a scene? Hasn’t it been a few years since you last saw this Joan person?” Claire was incredulous.
Trisha sighed. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. There’s always a scene of some kind with Joan. She thrives on them. And you can bet that when it happened, Nikki would get involved. She always gets involved, and then Helen would be furious. It would just be a dog’s breakfast from there.”
“I see.” Claire contemplated this. “Well then, you did the right thing.”
This made Trisha stop and look at her. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t know. I…” Her voice faded. “I don’t know,” she repeated, somewhat helplessly.
Claire evaluated her for a long moment. Whoever said that a competent solicitor was one part psychologist had not been far from the truth. Claire was very good at reading people, at figuring out their motivations and what they might do in a certain set of circumstances. It made her job a great deal easier, but had not been an easy trait to live with personally. At least, Heather had thought so and told her more than once.
“You’re ashamed,” she said finally, in as kind a voice as she could manage. “You’re still ashamed about cheating on Nikki even though she’s long since forgiven you.”
Trisha looked everywhere but at Claire. Squeezing her hand gently, Claire pulled her to her, wrapping her arms around her rigid body. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgave yourself?” she said softly into her ear. “You can, you know.”
Something released inside her. Claire could feel it as Trisha shook against her before she finally relaxed. Burying her face into her flaxen hair, Claire wondered how she could have overlooked her for so long. Trisha was so tough, yet so vulnerable at the same time, an irresistible combination of accomplished entrepreneur and sensitive woman. Claire could not remember ever feeling so protective of another person, or so physically drawn to her.
“Take me home, Trisha,” she said, voice muffled. “Make love to me.”
She heard a catch in Trisha’s breathing, and suddenly, she was crushing Claire to her and kissing her passionately. There was no more reservation in her touch, no holding back in the emotion of her kisses. Claire clung to her happily, returning kiss for kiss and wondering why she simply hadn’t made the request sooner.
“Take me home,” she demanded a second time, once they broke for air.
Seizing her hand tightly, Trisha tugged her back toward the car park before she abruptly stopped, turning a look on Claire that nearly seared her with its intensity. “It’s going to take thirty minutes to get to your place this time of night. Forty to get to mine.”
Claire couldn’t help it. She laughed aloud. “Any suggestions?”
“The flat above the club. I stay over some nights when I’m too tired to drive.”
“Lead the way.”
Trisha did, but instead of backtracking toward the club, she pulled her further down the pavement. Claire was surprised, but when she saw the alley, she realized that Trisha was leading her the back way to the club. It looked dark and a little dangerous, deep shadows filled with jagged shapes that threatened without specifics. Claire wanted Trisha so much she could taste it, but her sense of preservation set up immediate warning bells. She dragged her heels, drawing back.
“Are you sure about this?”
Trisha smiled, her teeth a brief flash in the last illumination from the street lights. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Claire wasn’t entirely sure of that, but belatedly realized that the hint of danger wasn’t completely off putting. In fact, it was beginning to heighten her anticipation with an almost painful acuteness. As they entered the dark recesses of the alley, the throbbing between her legs began to beat in rhythm with her heart and her sense of arousal warred with the acid taste of fear in the back of her throat. Stumbling along, the bottom of her shoes squelched unpleasantly through moisture that she was just as glad she couldn’t see. She had no clue how Trisha knew where to pause amid the nondescript backs of buildings, picking out one entryway among the many shadowed by large metal bins and miscellaneous piles of debris. Drawing a key from her pocket, Trisha unlocked the featureless metal door and pulled it open.
Breath coming hard, Claire stumbled into the stairwell where she was suddenly shoved against the wall just inside. Seizing hold of her, Trisha pressed her full curves against every inch of Claire’s body, skilled hands moving insistently over her through suddenly restrictive clothing.
“My God.” Claire was thrilled.
Trisha hesitated slightly, mouth mere millimeters away from Claire’s. Her breath wafted warm over her lips. “Is this all right?”
“That you want me so much? It’s bloody outstanding.”
Trisha laughed huskily and kissed her. Claire had never been kissed like that in all her years with Heather. It was probing. It was piercing. And it was entirely too passionate for words.
Gasping, she felt Trisha’s hands slip under her shirt, hot against her skin, and she was thoroughly dismayed when Trisha abruptly pulled away only a minute later. “What? What are you doing?”
“We’ll never make it upstairs at this rate.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Another throaty laugh and then Claire was being tugged up the staircase. Around them, the muffled sound of music from Chix reverberated, a pounding counterpoint to the sound of their quick steps on the concrete stairs. On the upstairs landing, Trisha fumbled with her key, her fingers shaking so much that she couldn’t get it in the lock, making them both laugh, though it was humor laced liberally with aggravation. Claire’s reached out her hand and closed it over Trisha’s, steadying her and allowing the key to slip smoothly into the deadbolt.
Inside the flat, Trisha guided Claire to the small bedroom containing a queen-sized bed and not much else. Falling onto the duvet, they struggled to undress each other, fumbling with snaps and zippers, and frustrated by garments that had appeared perfectly fashionable for the party but refused to cooperate when it came to passion.
“Is this real silk?”
Trisha groaned. “I don’t care, just rip it.”
“You can’t rip silk, it’s the strongest material in existence.”
“God, I love what an incredible anorak you are.”
Finally, Claire was able to undo the tiny, extremely decorative yet terribly inefficient buttons, pulling open Trisha’s blouse to reveal her creamy, full breasts cradled in a lacy black bra. As Claire touched them, it suddenly occurred to her that she had only ever been intimate with one person her entire life. She froze, making a strangled sound in her throat.
Confused, Trisha paused in her avid caresses. “Claire?”
“I’m sorry.” Claire was horrified. “I just…I’m so sorry.”
Suddenly, Trisha was incredibly gentle, pulling her close in a warm hug. “What is it?”
“I’m so embarrassed…oh, God, this is so stupid…”
“Just slow down a moment.”
”I think I just slowed to a complete stop.” Claire couldn’t believe this was happening. It was a nightmare.
“Then just hold onto me for a moment,” Trisha told her.
They lay there in a warm embrace, respiration gradually slowing, and their racing heartbeats finally easing to a more normal rhythm. Claire’s jacket, shirt and bra had been flung somewhere into the darkness of the room while her knickers and trousers were tangled about her ankles. Trisha’s shirt hung open, but she was otherwise fully dressed. As far as Claire was concerned, it was just one more example of how incompetent she was and probably would be as a lover. She put her hand over her eyes.
“I want to die.”
“It’s all right, Claire." Trisha nuzzled her ear. "I should have realized you needed to be romanced instead of ravaged.”
“I want to be ravaged,” Claire promptly protested, and then stopped, swallowing hard. “I don’t know how to explain this.”
“I do. You just started thinking about the destination instead of concentrating on the journey.”
“I did?” Claire was astonished. Apparently, lesbian nightclub owners possessed a streak of psychology in their makeup as well.
“This is all about you being vulnerable with someone new for the first time in years. You just have to remember that it’s me here with you. And I absolutely adore you, Claire. I want you so much.”
“I want you, too,” Claire whispered. “More than you can imagine.” She started suddenly as Trisha touched her between her legs, stroking lightly.
“Well, your body certainly does,” Trisha assured her, fingertips gliding easily in the moisture and sending intense chills of sensation through Claire. “Trust in that, darling. Trust in me.”
Claire drew back to stare into her brilliant blue eyes, finding only complete acceptance and desire there. Exhaling loudly, Claire pressed against her, and against the hand caressing her so gently. “I do trust you.”
“Then, be with me, Claire,” Trisha said softly, easing her back onto the fluffy duvet, never easing her tender touch. “Let me love you.”
Closing her eyes, Claire surrendered utterly to the pleasure of Trisha’s body against hers; to the delight and desire so delicately drawn from her in a way she had never suspected possible.
And realized she could always save ravaged for later.Nikki snorted in amusement. “You saw that, did you?”
“I couldn’t believe it. Fortunately, Monica was telling the rest about her new project and they were all looking at her rather than in the direction of the kitchen.” Helen snuggled up to Nikki’s warm and welcoming form, feeling it shake with laughter. “When Claire came downstairs an