An Intangible Pattern - Fate Bound.

Try being friends

Alex awoke to the jarring sound of an unfamiliar alarm. In the darkness, an LED display indicated the time was 5:30 am.

Noah inhaled sleepily and stretched over her, hitting the off button. Having silenced the offending alarm he folded his arms around her waist again and settled against her back with a sleepy sigh. A thrill, part excitement and part fear, shot through her body at the sensation of his warm breath against the back of her neck.

Frozen to the spot she recalled the series of events that brought her here.

She had contacted him immediately after Arthur had told her about the meeting. Noah called her back later that evening.

"I can't speak too freely at the moment. I will be home at about 11 o'clock on Monday. Would you be willing to meet with me and we can discuss what to do then?"

She understood the underlying meaning of his words. Throat dry, she rasped, "Yes."

"Ok," he said softly, "same time and place as last time."

"Ok," she croaked.

"All right, I will speak to you soon. Take care."

He hung up the call and Alex buried her shame burnt face in her hands. She heard the warning in his voice and knew he was cautioning her to stay out of sight.

She considered how, in a different context, these clandestine meetings might have been exciting. Another woman in her place would have felt her heart skip at the prospect of sneaking out to sleep with an attractive, wealthy man in secret.

All she felt was the weight of dread.

Noah had been cordial and polite to her since their last meeting before Christmas, but he had also stayed away. Any discussions between them had been online and purely professional. It was as though it hadn't happened.

Ironically, with sex off the table, Alex found she actually enjoyed these detached discussions with him. He understood most of what she had to report and asked pertinent questions. Misunderstandings were rare and if there was a problem, by the end of the discussion they'd either have a solution or at least a new angle to explore. There was something intellectually satisfying about working with him.

She was reluctant to disturb the tentative peace that had formed between them; yet once again she found herself trudging through the freezing night, stomach in her mouth, to the back door of Noah's cottage.

Sticking to the shadows, she covered her head with the mask and went inside.

This time, Noah was sitting in his bedroom, wearing a white bathrobe and his mask. Casting an eye around the room she could see the carcass of a simple wooden bed frame stacked against the wall. The bed he sat on now was made of solid iron. One hand was cuffed securely to a decorative loop in the frame.

She raised her brows at him behind her mask and saw him blush.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable in a bed," he muttered.

"It looks a bit medieval." she stammered.

He coughed uncomfortably, "Well it's designed for BDSM, I wasn't sure my bed would be secure enough."

"I see," she said haltingly, "when did you change it?"

"A few days after last time."

She almost wanted to laugh. Despite cooling off toward her, he'd still anticipated the next time they'd be forced to sleep together. The bed wasn't ostentatiously erotic in design, but she was sure anyone who knew Noah would have raised an eyebrow at its presence in his home.