#swiss time

[squeezemylemon]

This photo popped up and my immediate thought was: "He's smiling at Natalie who's taking the photo! They're back in Pompeii 45 years after they first went there!"

(This is a reference to Chapter 19 of the beautiful fic "Swiss Time", by @firethatgrewsolow.)

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Twenty-One

**Thanks for reading and hope you like it! The clock is closing in ... <3 PS - expect fluff :-)**

We’re off, Nattie. I suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t want to come, considering you were near comatose when I came downstairs to say goodbye. There’s water and aspirin on your nightstand and orange juice in the refrigerator, courtesy of Christian. I would have let you suffer.

Natalie shook her head at the evil smiley face her aunt had drawn. Christ, she was definitely suffering and pretty certain that at some point her head was going to explode. She crawled out of bed and snatched up the aspirin, knocking them back with the lukewarm water. Grimacing, she returned to her nest, pulling up the covers around her as she continued to read.

We likely won’t be back for close to a week, so please take care of Duchess. Change her water every day, and make sure to wash the bowl. Her food is in the pantry, along with her brush and some of her toys. Her favorite is the little pink mouse. Make sure it’s filled with catnip at all times. And don’t forget her music. She enjoys classical, but only in the morning. In the evening, she prefers jazz.

Nat rolled her eyes. The cat got better treatment than she and Christian did. Her annoyance faded away as she heard a faint mewl next to her, and she bent over, smiling as Duchess sprang onto the bed. Running her fingers through the kitten’s soft gray fur, she turned her attention back to the note.

You should be set in terms of groceries as I had extra delivered before the party, but feel free to order more or dine at the hotel. Just charge it to Christian.

Natalie’s stomach grumbled. A good sign in the midst of the worst hangover she’d ever had. At least she could still eat. The aspirin was beginning to work, as well. Maybe she’d actually live through the day.

Okay, that covers it. You have our hotel information should you need to contact us. Have a wonderful, relaxing week, darling. Oh, and one more thing. Apparently, you spoke to Robert on the phone last night. It was a rather animated conversation. At least, what I caught of it, which unfortunately was only about half.

Nat stilled. She’d spoken to Robert? Oh, shit. She replayed the evening, what she could remember of it, racking her brain for a clue about the conversation. Did I call him? Or did he call me? Surely she’d not given in and phoned him. Oh, God. She breathed a sigh of relief as she read the next line.

In case you’re wondering, he called you. Anyway, after a rather interesting exchange, you told him to ring you at 3:00 sharp. Today. Given your state last night, I thought I’d remind you. Love to you, sweet. See you when we return.

Natalie’s eyes darted to the clock, her heart pounding. 2:58 … 2:59 … 3:00 She warily shifted her gaze to the phone on her bedside table, its silence a blaring warning of yet another broken promise. Still, she waited, hopeful. One minute ticked by, then a second, and then a third. By the fourth, the familiar pang of disappointment washed over her. By the fifth, she gave up, her eyes welling. What did you expect? He never comes through. She stood, squaring her shoulders as Duchess scampered under the bed. Fuck him. Get on with the day.

She was due to meet a group of friends at the Christmas market later that evening, but her desire to go had been vanquished. She padded to the french doors that led to the patio and pushed them open, taking in the glorious view. Even with a chill in the air, it never failed to uplift her, the sublime beauty of the nature around her like a tonic that could cure all ails. Except today. Stretching, she determined she needed another tonic - hair of the dog and a soak in the hot tub.

Natalie headed to the bathroom, shedding her clothes along the way. She brushed her teeth and pulled up her hair, splashing cold water on her face to wash away the night. Satisfied with what peered back at her, she grabbed a towel and made her way toward the porch, freezing mid-stride. She glanced toward the ceiling, certain that she’d heard something upstairs. Or someone. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she tiptoed to the landing, tilting her head. She waited a beat, and then another. Silence. Finally convinced all was well, she whirled around, slamming into what felt like a wall. She shrieked as she realized it was human.

“Whoa! It’s just me ...” Robert trailed off as her towel hit the floor, his eyes sailing up and down her completely naked form. He barely registered her scowl and the swift smack of his shoulder as she scrambled for the wrap.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Nat.”

“How the hell did you get in?”

Robert gestured to the french doors that were wide open. “Nobody answered upstairs so I came around back. It was … open.” His eyes traced her frame as his mouth curled up. “Do you always traipse around so scantily clad? Aren’t you worried about your neighbors?”

“Apparently, I need to be more worried about random English miscreants. And I was about to get into the hot tub.”  Nat cocked her head. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way. What are you doing here?”

Robert chuckled. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? I told you I was coming. You didn’t really think a simple phone call would do, did you? Not after the conversation we had.” Natalie opened her mouth, only to close it, and Robert narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You do remember last night, right? Our conversation? The things you were saying?” His voice cracked on the last syllable.

“It’s, um, kind of hazy.”

“Are you bloody serious? Fucking hell, woman.”

Her eyes widened. “What all did I say?”

Robert barked a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You likely wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Was it bad?”

He expelled a breath. “No, I’d say it was rather good.” Robert nibbled his lip as she stared at him, bewildered. “Nevermind. Christ. Anyway, it seems that I’m here, I suppose unexpectedly. I can’t stomach another two hours on the train, and I’m bloody well starving so I’ll have to sort it out tomorrow. If that’s alright with you.”

The adrenaline from her initial fear had given way to that of elation. He’d come to see her. He was there in the flesh, just for her. But what was it she’d said to make him drop everything and come running? Flashes of the previous night flickered through her head as if his physical presence was jarring them, conjuring them. There had been the phone call, that she could recollect … she’d chastised him for not knowing about the fire … then she’d teased him about the article, losing her virginity, she’d joked, and then … Oh, my God. It all flooded back at once, a dam breaking in her mind. Jesus Christ. What had she been thinking talking like that? No wonder he got his ass on a plane. She fought the crimson burn that crept across her cheeks. It was true, though, every single word.

“Are you alright? I can, ah, make arrangements at the hotel if you-”

“No, no, you can stay here. Susan and Christian are in Vienna for a week. It would be nice to have company.” Nat adjusted the towel, the cool air from the porch a blessing for her tingling skin. “Maybe we could go into town for the Christmas market later.”

“I did see a big ferris wheel on the way up here.”

“It’s really pretty at night with all the colored lights. And there’s ice skating and games. It’ll be fun.”

“I’d like that.” Robert closed the gap between them, tucking a loose tendril behind her ear. “I am so happy to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Her breathing hitched as he cupped her chin. And just like that, she was lost. It was as if no time had passed. His touch riveted her, cloaking her in his magic spell. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Robert grazed her cheek with his thumb. “You’re not upset that I came, are you?”

“I hoped you would,” Nat replied, a devilish smile blooming on her face. “Why do you think I said all those things?”

His mouth fell open. “You little ... tart.” She squealed as he pounced, throwing her over his shoulder and swatting her backside. “You’re a dirty little girl. And do you know what happens to dirty little girls?”

Natalie giggled as he tossed her onto the bed, dropping over her. “Bad things?”

Robert shook his head, his eyes gliding along the line of her throat. “No. Very bad things.” He nipped her chin. “Extremely bad, as a matter of fact.” He slid his lips across hers, bound for her ear. “But not until I have a bit of snap and a look at the fair. We English take Christmas very seriously.”

*          *          *

A sea of hats and heavy wool coats littered the ice, swirling around them with wild abandon. As Robert gently tugged her through the throng, Nat’s knees buckled, and she reached for his shoulders, her grin matching his as he caught her.

“Christ, Natalie, you’re a resident of Switzerland, and you can’t ice skate?”

Nat wrinkled her nose. “You’ve got candy apple in your teeth.”

“So do you,” the singer shot back, his brow lifting.

“At least I have all mine.”

“Ouch.” Robert snickered. “I suppose one can’t be perfect. But I’m not far off.” Natalie yelped, gripping him tighter as he took a wide stride backwards, parting the pool of revelers behind him. “You need a proper lesson.”

Nat snuggled into the warmth of his chest, so solid and strong. She knew very well how to maneuver on the ice. In fact, she was a crack skater and loved it. But she loved his arms wrapped around her even more. “Just keep holding me, and I’ll skate along with you.”

“Is this a ploy to keep me close to you?” Robert asked, narrowing his eyes.

She batted her lashes. “Whyever would you think that?”

“Because you’re very tricky. My tricky little-”

“I know. Minx.” She pecked his dimpled cheek. “I like being your minx.”

Robert slowed to a stop. “And my muse?”

“Your muse? I’ve never been a muse before.”

“Not even your good friend David’s?”

She studied the tip of her boot. “He’s never mentioned it.”

Robert skimmed his fingers under her chin, reclaiming her gaze. “He’s a fool, then.” He could feel her swallow through the thin leather of his glove as he drew closer, his eyes dropping to her lips. “An absolute f-”

“Attention! Attention!”

The boy’s warning rang out too late, and Natalie clung to Robert as the child careened into them, depositing them into a twisted pile on the ice. He sprang up as fast as he’d gone down, muttering an apology before sliding away to wreak havoc elsewhere. She smiled as Robert stood, offering her his hand. “At least I’m not the worst one out here.”

“Something tells me you’re far from the worst.” He looped his arm through hers, guiding her to the side of the rink. “Let’s try an activity a hair less hazardous.”

While Natalie returned their skates, Robert was dispatched to procure tickets for the ferris wheel. A light snow filled the air as the last thread of dusk faded, and the market came alive. Strolling carolers roamed the network of booths, and bawdy laughter emanated from tents and too many helpings of spiked apple cider. The scents of pine and baked delicacies wafted endlessly around the twinkling tinsel-draped trees scattered about. It was one of her favorite things, a wonderful mix of spectacle and domesticity, convivial, but community, too.

“You ready?”

She nodded. “I’ve got to warn you. I don’t love heights.”

He gave her a squeeze. “I’ll protect you, my lady.”

“That doesn’t inspire much confidence.”

With more than a whisper of trepidation, Natalie boarded the car, which creaked mightily as the wheel began to turn. She instinctively grabbed Robert’s hand, her mouth curving as their fingers entwined. “This thing sure looked better from a distance.”

“It does seem to have seen finer days.”

The clamor from the festivities below them receded as they soared higher and higher, until they reached the apex of the circle. The cabin rocked back and forth as the motion suddenly ceased, and Nat’s smile disappeared. “Why did we stop? What’s going on?” She glanced to Robert, unimpressed with his mischievous smirk. “Wait. Did you tell them to? The other riders are not going to be …” The words were lost as she inspected the cars below them, all empty. “You bought all the tickets.”

“That and a healthy, ah, contribution should allow us a bit of privacy.” Robert guided her hand to his lips, caressing the back of it. “And a big view.”

A big view it was. Lights from the villages surrounding them danced in the distance. A bright full moon had peeked out from the clouds, sending silver shimmers across Lake Geneva and illuminating the snow covered peaks that abounded. “My God, I can see forever. It’s so beautiful.”

“Ah, but you put it to shame, Natalia.” Robert slid off her glove, kissing each of her fingers one by one.

He hadn’t used her nickname since his last visit to Montreux, and Natalie savored the intimacy of the moment. He was a hopeless romantic, and by default, had temporarily made her one, too. It was easy to get lost in him, his subtle smile and gentle gaze impossible to resist. So handsome, but there was far more to it than that. He had an aura, an air, a way that connected with her like no one else. She knew better than to let it happen, but that was just it. She’d no control. None whatsoever.

Robert skimmed his lips across her wrist. “You okay?”

Nat blinked, nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What are you thinking about?”

She took a breath, hesitating. That I’m in love with you. And I’m scared to death. “Nothing much.”

Robert’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The car lurched forward, hurdling them back against the seat. And her senses back to her. She cleared her throat, summoning a smile. “I, um, thought I saw my house, that’s all.”

“Where? Point to it.”

“I was wrong. Wrong direction.” She shrugged, slipping her glove back on. “We should probably get back. I don’t want to leave Duchess alone too long.”

“Who’s Duchess?”

“Our new kitten. I would have introduced you to her, but she gets nervous around people she doesn’t know. She’s probably still under one of the beds.”

“I bet I can coax her out. I’ve a way with the ladies, you know,” Robert added with a wink.

Natalie snorted. “Highly doubtful.”

“Shall we make a formal wager?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “What are the stakes?”

Robert pursed his lips. “If I win, I get to kiss you.”

“That’s it? No conditions?”

“Just one.” A wicked grin creased Robert’s face. “I get to do it anywhere I want.”

Natalie’s heart skipped a beat as sultry heat exploded in her tummy, slowly drifting lower. The things he could do to her with only words, the need he could summon with a simple phrase. It was nearly debilitating. She finally found her voice. “And if you lose?”

His dimple deepened. “Oh, darlin’, I’m not going to lose.”

[callmethehunter]

Shoutout from Bonzo to @firethatgrewsolow “Tres agreable, ma cherie”

[squeezemylemon]

And because random creative inspiration does some times strike me, here's a moodboard for chapter nineteen of "Swiss Time" by @firethatgrewsolow.

[squeezemylemon]

Here's to you, my dear Lady Fire!

Congratulations on a beautiful swan song, it was everything I could want it to be; incredibly sexy, sweet, playful and with a hint of bittersweetness. ❤❤❤

(@firethatgrewsolow)

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Twenty

**Moving on toward the end of the year, holiday spirit is in the air, and Natalie’s feeling saucy. And getting saucy, too. Hope you guys like it, and thanks for reading. ♥️♥️**

“You’d think he’d have fucking called after the casino burned down.” Natalie slipped a hook through the Swarovski snowflake, nestling it in the enormous Nordmann Fir.

“You could have called him, darling.” Susan pointed to Nat’s left. “Do you mind moving that one a little bit? It’s blocking the twinkle lights.”

“How is it I come home from school to help you decorate the Christmas tree, and I end up doing all the work?”

Susan shrugged. “I see my role as more of the designer, less hands on.” She quelled her grin as Nat rolled her eyes. “So, when’s the last time you spoke with him?”

Natalie plucked the final snowflake from the satin-lined box next to the sofa. “Let’s see … I got back from Pompeii in mid-October, and it was a few days after that I got the weird letter. You know, the one that looked like it was written on brothel stationery.”

“Not an unlikely scenario.”

“Thank you, Aunt Sue.” Natalie tossed the ornament onto the tree. “He called me a couple weeks after. Then maybe a week or two later. And that’s it.”

“They are on tour, doll.”

“Oh, give me a break. David’s tour was far more grueling, and he managed to call me every four or five days. Plus, I’m pretty sure they were off most or all of October. Probably spent the whole damn time in and out of red light districts.” Natalie sighed, straightening one of the silver bells on a branch near the top. “I should have fucked David when I had the chance.”

“My, my, you don’t mince words.” Sue sipped her Champagne. “Just out of curiosity, why didn’t you?”

Natalie abandoned the bell, opting for the bar instead. “I guess I’m just stupid.”

Susan tapped the rim of her glass. “Or waiting for … someone else?”

Nat poured a healthy splash of vodka, downing it in one fell swoop. “Fuck him.”

“Exactly,” Susan purred with a wicked smile. “Now don’t drink too much before the party, or it will ruin the surprise.”

“There is no surprise. Everybody already knows about the article, Sue. You just wanted an excuse to throw one.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Susan’s smile dimmed. “Listen, I’m very proud of you, Natalie. It’s quite an accomplishment to be given an opportunity to write for a major publication.”

Nat stilled, unfamiliar with her aunt’s more serious tone. “Well, I’m sure Christian had something to do-”

“No, he did not. It was all you. And when it comes out, everything’s going to change, darling. It’s a rite of passage.” Susan pursed her lips, the devilish gleam returning to her eyes. “Sort of like losing your v-“

“Don’t!” Natalie splayed her hand toward her aunt. “Not in the mood.”

“Fair enough.” Susan stood, setting her flute on the bar. “I’m off to freshen up before the festivities. Can’t make it a late night, you know. We’re off to Vienna early in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure. After all, who would take care of Duchess?” Natalie smiled, watching her aunt’s new kitten, currently in a valiant battle with three strings of tinsel. “Besides, David said he might call.” Her shoulders slumped. “And who knows, maybe Robert will, too.”

Susan cocked her head. “If you had to choose, who would it be?” Nat’s eyes shot to hers then immediately dropped. “I guess I know the answer. Affairs of the heart rarely pair with common sense. That’s what makes them so thrilling.” They shared a look. “You feel safe with David, don’t you? But not Robert.”

“I can’t explain it, Aunt Sue. I mean, I’m attracted to David, and I love spending time with him. But he doesn’t affect me like Robert does.” Natalie clenched her fists. “It’s maddening. David does the right thing, but Robert does the right things.”

Sue’s brow lifted. “I see that he does.”

“And it’s not that I fear him. It’s more like I fear myself when I’m with him.” Nat shook her head. “My judgement just … disappears.”

“Well, I can’t say that I blame you. That man is dangerous. Lots of testosterone there.” They shared another look. “Lots and lots.” In a whirl, Susan scooped up Duchess. “Do put away the boxes when you’re finished decorating, love. People will be arriving soon.”

Natalie slunk to the bar, helping herself to more vodka. Dangerous? Robert was way more than that. One simple phone call from the man eclipsed the hours she spent with David. She filled her lowball and drained it, repeating the process. The fire in her throat and stomach cloaked the anger and indignation bubbling up in her chest. At first. But another large gulp cracked the veil. She fell onto the sofa, kicking one of the empty crimson boxes with the tip of her boot. He always did this to her. Always. So sweet and tender, luring her in with gentle words, promises to visit soon, how he couldn’t imagine his life if she weren’t in it. And then crickets. She slammed her palm against the pillow beside her. Goddamnit. Why did she let him get away with it over and over and over? She’d thought for sure that she was calling the shots, that she wouldn’t get hurt. And yet, here she sat, pining away like an idiot. That bastard. No more. The next time she heard from him, and she would, eventually, she was giving him everything she had. She hiccupped as the doorbell rang, her eyes widening. Fuck, she’d not cleaned up anything. She bolted upright, grabbing the back of the sofa as the room spun. Oh, shit, she was drunk, and the party hadn’t even started.

*          *          *

Shaking off the December chill, Robert lumbered into the green room of the concert hall. He tossed the paper clutched in his hand onto the lone metal folding table, only to pick it back up, re-opening it to the page he had memorized. The image hadn’t changed since he’d examined it the first fifteen times. And likely won’t the next fifteen, either. It never ceased to amaze him how she could meld into her environs. She seemed foreign, a chameleon, trying on various personas as if they were casual summer dresses. She looked happy, though, which made him feel decidedly less so.

His gaze shifted to the face of the man she was wrapped around. Robert recognized the gleam in David’s eye, all too familiar with it. Clenching his jaw, he counted the days again. The picture had been taken just over a month after their tour stop in Montreux. Christ, a matter of weeks, really. She sure doesn’t waste any time. The singer nibbled his lip, his mind drifting back to their debauched Eastern sojourn. Who are you kidding? You waste even less time. But that was a different thing altogether. After all, she’d made a promise … well, maybe not exactly a promise, but she’d certainly given him the impression that she’d wait for him. Or perhaps that’s just what he’d wanted to hear.

“What are you doing with that old rag? It’s from September.”

Robert slammed the paper shut and spun around, nearly colliding with Jimmy. “How long have you been there, mate?”

“Long enough to wonder what you’re examining so intently.” Jimmy slipped the paper from his grasp, reopening it as he took a seat on the sofa. “My, my, my, our Natalie Grace looks rather fetching. And rather comfortable.”

She looked far more than fetching. And far more than comfortable. Forcing his gaze away, Robert sunk into the threadbare armchair alongside the couch. “She looks nice.”

“Very nice, I’d say.” Jimmy scanned the article. “So, these are from Floyd’s concerts in Montreux. Quite glowing reviews.”

The singer tapped his foot against the leg of the chair. They were glowing. Too glowing. “I didn’t really read it.”

“Right.” Jimmy neatly folded the paper and placed it on the coffee table. “They did some recording in Pompeii in October. She went with them. Did you know that?”

“No. I don’t really keep track of-”

“Oh, of course. You don’t keep track.” The guitarist’s eyes glided to the abandoned periodical.

“I just found it in the car on the way over here.” Robert fished the pack of Camels from his jacket pocket. “So, ah, just out of curiosity, who was it that told you about the Pompeii thing?”

“Roy. He and Gilmour are very friendly.”

“Yeah.” Robert nodded tersely. “So I’ve heard.”

Jimmy drummed his fingers along the top of his thigh. “Why don’t you just go to her? It’s far superior to pining away like a crushed schoolboy.” He tilted his head. “Although, you certainly didn’t seem to be pining in Bangkok or Bombay.”

Robert’s lips curled up as he pulled out his lighter. “I guess we stayed kind of occupied, yeah?”

“Indeed. I was pondering returning at some point next year. Perhaps on the way to Australia.”

“That sounds good.”

Crossing his legs, Jimmy stroked his beard. “Speaking of Australia, didn’t she-”

“Bloody hell, did you hear about the fire?” Bonzo burst into the room, waving a paper of his own. “The whole fuckin’ thing. Burned to a crisp.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert flicked the Zippo, guiding the flame to the tip of his cigarette.

“The bloody Montreux casino. It’s gone. Burned down during the Zappa gig on Saturday.”

The lighter careened into the stained shag carpet as Robert jumped up, his heart sprinting. “Was anybody hurt?”

“I don’t know, mate. Doesn’t say,” Bonzo replied, shrugging. “Ahh, you’re thinking about that little girl.”

Robert flew at him, giving him a sharp push. “Her name is Natalie. Fucking remember that, alright?” He steadied himself for a push back, but one didn’t come.

“I’m sorry, Rob. I know her name.”

Robert snatched the paper from Bonzo’s hand, poring over it. The building was completely destroyed, and there was no official word on fatalities. His eyes darted through the room. He needed to phone her … something, but he’d left his book at the house. Goddamnit. “I’ve got to get in touch with her. Make sure she’s-”

“We’re about to start the concert. We can’t be late. They have a curfew.”

“Fuck the bloody concert, Jim. I’ve got to know.” Robert rubbed his temple, his mind a maelstrom. “I’ll start with the hotel. Or wait, maybe I can get the number from … no, that won’t work. Where’s Cole? He’ll have the-”

“We have to go on. I’m sure it’s fine. If there were, um, extenuating circumstances, I’m positive that Susan would have reached out.”

The singer blinked back the warmth in his eyes as a mighty chill rocked his core, followed by a wave of nausea. He leaned against the back of the chair. “That makes sense. Susan would have called.” He met Jimmy’s gaze. “She would have, right?”

The guitarist nodded gently. “Without a doubt.”

The gig might as well not have happened at all. Robert had gone through the motions, on total autopilot, his thoughts consumed with one thing and one thing only. Even the bomb scare in the middle had taken on a dream like quality. He’d never been so grateful for the final number, and as the last strains of it faded away, he’d hastily taken his leave. He reclined the battered leather seat of the Jaguar, even more grateful that Bonzo was driving. He, himself, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the swirling scenarios that wouldn’t turn off. She had to be okay. There was simply no other option.

“You alright, mate?”

Robert glanced at his friend, squinting slightly as the lights of an oncoming lorry flashed through the windshield. “I’m okay. Thanks for driving. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

“I was out of line.” Bonzo cranked his window down a notch, flipping his cigarette. “She’s special, this one, yeah?”

The drummer’s words resonated. Robert hadn’t realized just how special she was until fear like he’d never known had coursed through his chest. In that moment, understanding enveloped him. He didn’t just like her. It was much more than that. He missed her. And the idea that he’d miss her for the rest of his life was overwhelming. Impossible to grasp. Jesus Christ. Are you falling in love with her?

“You still with me?”

Robert nodded, zipping up his jacket to ward off the chill in the drafty sedan. “You know what, Bonz? I think I’m going to visit her. I’ll leave tomorrow. We don’t have a gig ‘til just before Christmas. That’ll give me a little over a week.”

The drummer chuckled. “Might want to ring her first.”

“Yeah, getting ahead of myself.” Robert’s lips curved as they turned into his winding driveway. “Not sure she’d fancy a surprise.”

Having fended off Bonzo’s request for “one for the road,” Robert made his way into the house, snapping on the kitchen light to study the clock above the stove. Ten after one, which would mean ten after two for her. Surely she’d be asleep. He nibbled his lip. Maybe not, though. She liked to stay up late sometimes. He eyed the little navy book next to the telephone. There was no harm in trying. Thumbing through it, he found her name with two numbers listed below it. School or home, that was the question. He checked the time again. There was no way he was calling the dormitory and risk getting her into trouble. Home it was.

A cheery female voice answered on the third ring, and animated conversation jingled in the background. Whoever was there was most definitely not asleep. Robert made his request in broken French and was rewarded with a snicker and an English reply. Within less than a minute, Natalie was on the line.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Plant.”

“Oh, Christ, Nat, it’s good to hear your voice. I heard about the casino and-”

“I suppose nearly perishing in a fire qualifies as an event important enough to garner a phone call, Rob.”

She sounded tipsy. Very. “I’m sorry, love. We’ve just been-”

“Let me guess. Busy?”

She also sounded pissed off. “Was, um, anybody hurt?”

“No, thank the gods. But the casino’s a total loss.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When Bonzo told me, I-”

“It was all over the newspapers, Robert. What do you … live under a rock?” Natalie snorted. “No, you live in a hobbit-hole, isn’t that right? Or, wait, a Robbit-hole.”

Uproarious laughter filled his ear, and he smiled in spite of himself. She wasn’t just pissed off, she was piss drunk. “I’m sorry. I meant to ring you earlier, but …” he trailed off as she mumbled something to someone next to her, followed by more muffled giggling. “What are you doing?”

“As it happens, we’re having a party,” Nat replied with a neat hiccup.

Robert grinned as she hiccupped again. “Oh, yeah? What for?”

With great ceremony, Natalie cleared her throat. “I have officially, unequivocally … lost my virginity.”

His grin vanished. “You … you did what?”

“You heard me.”

His heart plummeted. “What are you saying to me, Natalie?”

“I got my first article in Rolling Stone!”

Robert’s brow wrinkled as a second peal of laughter erupted, but the relief he felt was palpable.

“You didn’t think I meant my real virginity, did you?” There was a hum in the back of her throat as she spoke. “You did, didn’t you?”

He could hear the sexy smile in her voice as it lowered an octave, and he expelled a tense breath.

“That’s very naughty, Robert. Very,” she added with another hum.

Her tone was slinky, brazen and bold. A new Natalie. The singer swallowed, a hint of arousal threading in between his legs.

“You do know that virginity is a social construct, right? I mean, after all, what would make it officially lost? Would it be your fingers deep inside of me? Your tongue, baby?”

Good Christ, he was getting a hard on. He quickly adjusted himself. “Natalie, I-”

“Or your big hard cock.”

Fucking hell. His jaw dropped. He’d never heard her talk like that. He didn’t know she could talk like that. There had been glimpses, but this was a different side of her completely. One he fully intended to explore.

“Almost seventeen and never been kissed.”

She was toying with him, nearly singing the phrase. Like a cat teasing a mouse right before they pounce. But two could play that game. “That’s not exactly true, love. I seem to remember-”

“Oooh, yes. I remember, too. I remember all kinds of kisses. In all kinds of places. But that’s not what I’m talking about, Robert. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Oh, he knew, alright. Jesus Christ. Her voice grew quieter, and he could tell that she was covering her mouth against the phone. He held his breath, focusing on her sultry whisper.

“I bet you want to, don’t you? I know you want to. Be the first one. You’ll have to go slow, though, slow and easy. Because I know just how big you are. And just how hard you get. Like a fucking rock.”

Goddamn. She sighed into the receiver, and Robert gritted his teeth, not daring to utter a word as she continued.

“Do you remember how wet I can get? Just for you, baby. Just for you.”

His cock twitched as he caught her little mewl, and he adjusted himself one more time.

“Now I’m all worked up and have to go.”

“No, don’t go. Christ, don’t.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think, and his eyes flickered to the clock. It was less than a two hour flight to Geneva, then maybe another two on the train. “I’m coming to see you, Natalie. Tomorrow. I can be there by noon. Where are you going to be?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” she drawled. “Another time.”

“What are you talking about, another time? Bloody hell, girl, you can’t do this to me. It’s driving me fucking-“

“Call me instead. Here. Three o’clock sharp. Goodnight, Robert.”

The line clicked and went dead, and he slowly hung up. She was testing him, giving him duties and deadlines. It was clear that she wasn’t going to make it easy on him, but then again, nothing about her was easy. With a quiet groan, he ran a hand through his hair. It was going to be a bloody long night.

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Nineteen

**Warning: fluffy fluff fluff - because I love that shit. Also, while I don’t particularly condone the descriptions used for women in the second part, it’s true to the time and to the participants. Hope you understand. PS - It’s not completely polished bc I’m getting lazy in my old (fic) age. :-) Thanks for hanging with me, and I hope you like it. <3**

Natalie shielded her eyes as the sun dropped, partially obscuring her view of the band. She peered across the pit, considering a relocation, but opted to stay put so as not to disturb the eerie groove that the boys had captured. Watching them perform in an empty venue was an odd experience. She’d witnessed sound checks before, but this was different. This was a full blown show given to a handful of techs and camera people in what amounted to historical ruins. Heat engulfed her, the ancient rock of the amphitheater seizing the energy of the sun and steadfastly clinging to it. She grazed the palm of her hand across the expanse beside her, lost in the secrets it held. How many people had been seated right there, until that fateful day when Vesuvius decided she’d had enough.

Touring Pompeii had been a sobering affair. So many heartbreaking stories, tales of love, loss, and fear littered the site, translated beautifully by David from their Italian guidebook. She smiled to herself. Of course he spoke Italian. What couldn’t he do? Infuriate you to the point of no return, only to have you doubled over with laughter a moment later. She clenched her fists. Stop. Enough. He’s not Robert, and he’s not meant to be. In truth, David was a lot of things Robert wasn’t. He was earnest and deliberate in conversation, never flippant or superficial. He was honest and kept his promises. She could believe him and believe in him. She sat back, propping her elbows on the tier behind her as she closed her eyes, basking in the last of the late afternoon warmth.

“Hey.”

A shadow glided over her, and her lids lifted as a slightly sunburned David reclined next to her. She snuck a peek at the lines of his chest as he’d discarded his t-shirt hours earlier. “Hey back.”

“Daydreaming again, huh? What are you thinking about?”

“Just how nice it feels in the sun.”

“We’re going to take a break for a bite. Are you hungry?”

Just like him. Always asking how she was, what she needed, what she was thinking about. “Kind of. What do you have in mind?”

“I may have arranged a little al fresco dining.”

She grinned as he did the same. “A picnic?”

“Of sorts.” David stood, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

Nat clasped it, following him through the network of equipment and roadies. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” David slowed as they passed his mic stand, grabbing his t-shirt from the top of a rusty metal folding chair. “It’s going to get cooler after the sun goes down. Are you going to be alright? Do I need to have someone fetch a-”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Natalie squeezed his hand. “Besides, you can keep me warm.” His respondent smile gave her chills.

“It would be my pleasure to do just that.”

They ambled to the entrance of the theater, circling around back to a cluster of tall pine trees flanking it. Natalie’s jaw dropped as they approached. A large Merino wool blanket lay nestled under the canopy, complete with a vase nearly overflowing with sunflowers. At its side was a glistening ice bucket housing what looked to be Champagne. Plates and bowls filled the spaces in between, offering olives and figs, various cheeses and cured meats. A loaf of fresh, crusty bread completed the tableau. “Oh, my God, this is … when did you do this?”

David stole a peck on her cheek. “I had someone set it up. Thought you might like it.”

Natalie plucked one of the sunflowers, fingering its petals. “How did you find these?”

“I’ll admit it wasn’t the easiest task,” he replied with a chuckle. “But I have my ways. Does it remind you of home?”

“Yes.” Nat clutched his shoulders, pushing up on her toes to give him a kiss. “You are so incredibly thoughtful.” He opened his mouth as if to respond, but closed it, rolling his lips together. Typical David, cautious with words, preferring other methods of communication, namely his eyes and his trusty Strat. She’d gotten used to his quiet demeanor and even temperament. Being with him was relaxing, never taxing, never anxious. And never hysterical, ridiculous fun. She gritted her teeth, pushing the thought away. “Thank you for all of it.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He gestured for her to recline, settling next to her. “Shall I open the Champagne?”

“Please.” As David filled their flutes, Natalie’s mind wandered to the last time she’d had Champagne. Quite a different affair it had been, passing a bottle back and forth under the cover of night. Eons away from the proper meal David had arranged. “Are you satisfied with how the filming is going? You don’t think it’s a little … stark?”

David rolled onto his side, drumming his fingers on the blanket as he considered the question. “By stark, do you mean the lack of an audience? If so, that was by design. We specifically wanted it this way.”

“As a contrast to, say, something like Gimme Shelter?”

“Exactly.” He sipped his wine, his voice quietening. “Syd would have loved it.”

“Syd? Oh, of course,” Natalie hastily added. “Do you still keep in touch with him?”

“No, not really.” David expelled a long breath. “We were friends in school, you know. From childhood.”

“I didn’t know that. How many gigs did you do together?”

“Not many. Four or five. Then one day we just … didn’t pick him up.”

Nat pressed her hand against his cheek. “It’s not your fault, David. He couldn’t handle it.”

“I know. I mean the logical part of me knows. But ...” He shrugged, sighing again. “It doesn’t matter. Sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t ever be sorry to talk to me. I want you to.”

David skimmed his thumb along her jaw. “I’ll remember that.” He cleared his throat. “So, the acoustics are interesting here, don’t you think?”

Nat nodded. “It’s sort of spooky, really. Eerie … echoey. Kind of like When The Lev-” she broke off, nibbling her lip. “Anyway, it’s a cool sound.”

David cocked his head. “Kind of like when the what?”

“Just a song. You’ve never heard it.”

He snickered. “Maybe I have. Try me. I am a little familiar with music.”

“Well, you haven’t heard this, because it’s not out yet.”

“Dare I ask the artist?”

Nat scrunched up her nose. “No, as a matter of fact, you may not.” Her heart skipped as a megawatt grin lit up his face.

“I like it when you do that.”

“When I do what?”

David leaned over her, tapping the tip of her nose. “That thing with your nose.” His brow lifted. “When you’re feeling surly.”

“I’m not surly,” Natalie replied with a pout.

“Oh, but you are.” His dimple deepened as he inched closer. “And I quite like it, too.” He pursed his lips, studying hers. “You do realize this whole thing was just a ruse to get you alone and perhaps … have my way with you.”

Nat swallowed, a tentative tingle coursing through her. “And just what exactly would that entail?”

David narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll start here.”

The immediacy of his kiss took her breath away. It was soft, yet urgent, commandeering in the gentlest way possible. He smelled like the sun and sweat, with the faintest hint of lavender from her shampoo that he’d borrowed the night before. She smiled into the kiss, recalling the intimacy of the gesture, and David broke the embrace, his mouth curving.

“Not exactly the reaction I was looking for. What are you smiling about?”

“How happy I am right now.”

He cupped her cheek. “I am, too, Natalie. I really, really am.”

*          *          *

The mystical language flowed like music around him as they threaded through the throng filling the sidewalks, destined for the next brothel. Robert couldn’t understand the words, but he could understand the tone, the inflections, the random cackle between friends. Strange scents and textures enveloped him as he lit a cigarette, absorbing the experience. Bangkok was a beguiling town of extremes, extreme wealth, extreme poverty … and certainly extreme vice. The singer’s lips turned up. That he could wrap his head around.

“Billy Boy! Billy Boy!”

He glanced behind him, amused by the two little children who were taunting them. “I don’t suppose they like our long hair, yeah?”

“Apparently not,” Jimmy replied with a shrug.

Robert blew out a thin stream of smoke, rejecting his annoyance at the lads. They likely had never seen people who looked like him. Add to that the absolutely delectable experience the previous three hours had been, and it was hard to feel vexed about anything. “Christ, that place was bloody incredible.”

“I wonder if it’s where the term fucking your brains out was invented,” Jimmy purred with a smirk.

Robert laughed at his friend’s aside, uncharacteristically uncouth. “I’d say number 36 was superb. She did this little thing with her-”

“I had her, too,” Cole chimed in with a lascivious grin. “I don’t know how the fucking hell she did it.”

Robert grimaced. “Well, I bloody well hope you went after me. The carnal flu doesn’t sound particularly appealing.”

“Fuck you, mate.”

Robert took another drag. “I believe I already have been.”

“Those girls are clean. No need for worry.”

The singer’s gaze flickered to their driver, Joe, who was offering his semi-permanent crooked smile. His English was remarkably good, and Robert was pretty sure Joe wasn’t his real name, but they’d been lucky to find him. “What about the next place?”

“Yes, Joe.” Jimmy wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. “I’d rather avoid a visit to the penicillin dispensary if possible.”

“They’re clean, too,” the driver replied. “And even better than what you just had,” he added, his smile extending to the point that Robert could see he was missing two of his molars.

“I like the sound of that. Don’t you, Pagey?”

“Indeed. It’s a most delightful way to experience the local culture.”

“And not a bad way to get fucked, either!” Richard blustered with a cackle.

Robert snickered as Jimmy raised a brow, Cole’s ribald nature clearly grating on him. The guitarist may have been very happy to partake in various tawdry exploits, but he didn’t necessarily enjoy the public declaration of that fact. Robert, himself, could take it either way, as long as he was getting it. On the road and in travels, he deserved all the spoils. No guilt and no shame. Most of the time, anyway.

He caught a flash of bright yellow out of the corner of his eye and slowed, taking in the cart of fresh sunflowers. He drifted toward it, the clips of conversations and street noise receding. The blooms were pristine, such a contrast to the ramshackle vehicle that contained them. No longer fresh and new, it was held together with errant nails and cloth bands, its paint peeling. A long road it had traveled. He fingered one of the soft golden petals, the parallel not lost on him, and a rare wave of regret rippled through him. Those girls were probably no older than Natalie, and their lives were already determined. Their youth was to be spent pleasuring men like himself, then likely forced to marry and care for a different type of man, or become a concubine. Either way, a life of servitude. Robert wasn’t prone to introspection, and one certainly didn’t look to Bangkok for lessons in morality, but for that moment, in the recesses of his mind, there was an inkling of ...

“They came early this year.”

Robert glanced to their driver, who was flanked by Jimmy and Richard. “What?”

“The flowers. If you like, I will buy them for you. They come from Saraburi, north of here.”

Robert shook his head as the man reached for them. “No, no, it’s okay. They just reminded me of something.”

Jimmy’s eyes glided to his. “Or someone, perhaps?”

Robert shared a look with the guitarist. He was falling back into old patterns, and he knew it. Promising to write and not following through. Assuring her that he’d call and not doing it. I’ll ring her tomorrow. Or when we get to Bombay. Or maybe back home. Won’t be too long. Flicking his cigarette into the street, the singer tossed his hair. “Let’s go.”

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Eighteen

**Mr. Gilmour finally joins us as he makes his tour stop in Montreux, a handful of weeks after Zep. This was kind of wild trying to write David, but definitely fun. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading!**

“Would you like more oysters, David?” Susan gestured to the ice-laden platter by her side.

“Yes, please. Thank you. They’re quite good.”

“And good for you.” Sue took his plate, refilling it. “They’re aphrodisiacs, you know. Very effective ones, so they say.”

Natalie squelched her groan. David’s expression was priceless, two parts amused and one part wary.

“I, um, wasn’t aware of that.”

“Susan’s a wealth of information.” Nat cut her eyes at her aunt. “Some tidbits more appropriate than others.”

“Oh, Nattie, you’re as boring as Christian.”

David’s lips curled as he sipped his Chimay. “Speaking of, is he going to join us?”

“Doubtful. He’s at the pavilion making sure everything is set up for the festival. And smoothing some ruffled feathers.” Sue nodded to the waiter who was topping off her Sancerre. “You’re the first rock group ever to play it. It’s called Festival de Musique Classique for a reason.”

“Oui, je sais.” David sat back, crossing his legs. “We’ve certainly felt the brunt because of it.”

Nat’s gaze flickered to the guitarist. While she was fond of his posh English lilt, she adored it when he spoke French. His handle on the language rivaled that of a native speaker, slipping off his tongue with ease. It never ceased to turn her on. “I didn’t expect them to be so vitriolic. I can’t believe the paper in Lausanne actually called you drug addicts.” She shook her head. “It’s libelous.”

David chuckled, licking the salt off his finger. “Libelous might be extreme, Nat. It is rude, though, and defamatory. But that’s the image people have of us. I’d like to dispel it, but what can you do?”

She watched him shrug, his blue eyes twinkling, as they always seemed to be. “Well, the tickets sold out quicker than they ever have. That speaks for itself. And the write up I intend to do will set the record straight.”

“Ah, our great defender. What would we do without you?”

His tone was easy and his smile even easier. Insouciance personified. She’d only seen him angry once, the month before, in Australia, after an in-house tech nearly broke the neck of his Strat. Even then, it was a brief flash, more an outburst of distress than animosity. She’d heard whispers about a different side of him, though, at least where Roger was concerned. A thread of tension existed between them, not unusual for artistic geniuses. Her thoughts turned to Robert and Jimmy as she plucked a slice of lemon from the edge of her plate. Was there tension there, as well? She’d not picked up on it, but perhaps it was inevitable with any creative team. She squeezed the wedge, drowning her oyster in its juices, her mouth coiling devilishly as a certain refrain came to mind.

David tilted his head. “What’s all that about?”

Natalie’s smile grew as his dimple deepened. Oh, God, just like someone else I know. She cleared her throat. “I was, uh, wondering if these are French oysters.”

“Well, now, I don’t know. I’d like to think oysters transcend national barriers.”

Nat stuck out her tongue, and the broad grin that bloomed on his face took her breath away. It wasn’t rare, exactly, but it wasn’t a constant state, as was Robert’s. He was simply beautiful, ethereally so, from his long dark tresses to the striking sapphire of his eyes. Physical perfection. And he’s got all his teeth, to boot. Natalie lowered her gaze, toying with her fork as her thoughts spun. That was just it. David was physical perfection, but Robert’s silly crooked grin was, too.

“You don’t stay out of your head very long, do you?”

Natalie blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“What goes on in there?” David’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I’d like to know.”

Nat speared her oyster, loosening it from the shell. “Nothing, really, I just daydream a lot.”

“I’ve noticed. I don’t mind. I do, too.”

“So, what was it you were saying?” She lifted the prize to her mouth, downing it in one fell swoop.

“You seem to be getting on with Robert Plant pretty well. And Page, for that matter.”

The oyster caught in her throat, and Natalie coughed, swallowing harshly as she shared a quick look with Susan. “What are you talking about?” Her tone was sharper than she’d meant it to be.

David’s brow wrinkled. “The article about the Zeppelin shows last month. Saw the paper in the hotel this morning.”

“Oh, that.”

“What did you think I was referring to?”

There was a glimmer in his eye that wasn’t there before. She was sure of it. For someone who daydreamed a lot, he didn’t miss much. “I’d just sort of forgotten about it. It was a while ago.”

“Well, it’s a brilliant piece. You really coaxed some things out of Page. Nice work.”

Nat dropped her empty shell into the bowl between them. “Thank you.”

“Roy told me they were about to release a new album.”

“They are. I got to hear it, actually. It’s incredible.” Natalie snickered. “Apparently, they aren’t giving it a title. Or putting their name on it.”

David barked a laugh. “I guess they like to do things their own way. When’s it coming out?”

“Who knows with them. Jimmy told me they were shooting for the end of this month. Which probably means October or November.”

“You’re rather close to them, aren’t you?”

Susan’s head popped up in her peripheral vision. “I, um … well, I think they trust me. They tend to get a little butchered by the press.”

“Who doesn’t from time to time?” David knocked back his beer. “Can’t have thin skin in this particular vocation.”

“Thin skin?” Natalie repeated, frowning. “I don’t think it’s that so much as it’s ...” she trailed off as a tell-tale dimple formed on his cheek.

“Well, that hit a nerve.”

“David,” Susan drawled, lighting a cigarette. “Christian tells me that your record is coming out soon, as well.”

He appraised Natalie for a moment longer, finally turning to her aunt. “It is. In late October. And it actually has a title.” He glanced back to Nat. “Shockingly pedestrian, I know.” His lips curved as she rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a test pressing if you want to hear it. It’s up in the room. Then maybe you can show me that castle that’s so famous. What is it? Chillon?”

“Oh, Nattie, that’s what you should do!” Susan drained her wine, motioning for more. “It’s so gorgeous outside. The perfect day for an adventure.”

Natalie stilled, the rim of her goblet resting against her bottom lip. She wasn’t convinced that she wanted to go to Chillon. Lots of memories there. The expectant smile on David’s face did her in.

*          *          *

They walked in silence, comfortable companions, enchanted by the serenity of their surroundings. Late summer had ushered in the last of its proud plumage in the form of daisies and goldenrod sprinkled among the lilies and jewel-toned dahlias lining the lake. Natalie breathed in deeply, relishing the symphony of scents from the blooms and the ancient magnolias. It was her favorite time of year. But then, she said that about all of them.

She stole a peek at David as he admired the sparkling teal water, his profile so handsome and regal. Listening to the album with him had been quite a different experience than listening with Robert. He’d not wanted to chat between the tracks and had asked her to ponder it a bit as they trekked to Chillon. She was struck by the contrasts between the two men, and the occasional parallel. They were the perfect foils for each other, David with his elegant accent and mannered delivery, and Robert, dripping in innuendo and fun. David was fun, too, but in a somewhat cautious way, a bit dryer, more controlled.

“So, what did you think of it?”

Natalie grinned, reminded of a similar question posed the previous month and a similar mix of pride and insecurity. “It’s absolute gold, from start to finish. It feels, I don’t know, collaborative?”

Beaming, David nodded. “Yeah, it was. I think for the first time, it all really came together.”

“My favorite was the dog barking on the blues number. Nice touch.”

He laughed, gently squeezing her hand. “My Seamus, the one and only.”

“What is it with musicians and their mutts?”

“Hey, easy.” David slowed, tapping the tip of her nose. “Be nice.”

“I love your solo on the last song. It’s fantastic.”

“Ah, yes. Echoes. That makes me very happy to hear. It’s a special track.” David pursed his lips. “What about my singing? You haven’t mentioned that.”

“Well, you’re no Seamus,” Nat teased with a smirk.

“Or Robert Plant, it seems.” Natalie’s eyes darted to his. “Although, I don’t suppose I particularly aspire to be.”

Her tone garnered the edge it had earlier. “Do you not think he’s a good singer?”

“No, no, he’s fine. Let’s just say we have, ah, different styles. We’re very different groups, with very different goals.”

Truer words were never spoken. The music, the image, their off stage antics. If Led Zeppelin were the rock stars of rock stars, then Floyd were the philosophers. The gentle giant in the back of the room, content to deliver their message quietly, deliberately.

“You’re awfully protective of them.”

Nat nibbled her lip. “Am I? I guess I’m just grateful to them because they kind of gave me my start.”

“Really? How so?”

Natalie opened her mouth, hesitating. “An article I wrote a long time ago. There’s not much more to say.” Their gazes locked for a beat. “You don’t like them, do you?”

David’s eyes glided back to the path in front of them. “They seem alright. I don’t really know them. We sort of stick to ourselves.”

“So do they. But you’ve got Roy in common.”

“For better or for worse, I think sometimes. I can’t decide if he’s mad or a genius or … Christ, something else entirely,” the guitarist added, his face suddenly lighting up. “Hey, look at that, Natalie. It’s amazing.”

Nat swiveled her head, following his line of sight, her stomach clenching at what awaited her, a very familiar clump of magnolia trees. He squeezed her hand tighter, towing her along, and she let it go as he slipped under the canopy. “What are you doing?”

“Come in here. It’s like a little house.”

“No, David, I don’t really want to.”

He poked his head out. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Nat swallowed, shrugging. “I just want to get to the castle, that’s all.”

“But you need to see this.” David drew her into his arms, coaxing her inside and spinning in a circle under the thatched roof. “We could tour the castle tomorrow.” Her breath caught as he tipped her head back, breezing his lips across hers. “Or the day after that.”

He had a way of looking at her, or looking through her, she wasn’t sure. Robert had it, too, but David, she couldn’t read as well. Robert’s eyes gave orders, whereas David’s implored. Or maybe it was the opposite? Either way, they both seduced. Completely. Good God, she was fucked. “We should head back. I think it’s going to rain.”

“It’s not going to rain.” David pressed his palm against her cheek. “Tell me. What’s wrong, Natalie?”

She canvassed the gnarled trunk behind him, doing her best to tamp the flood of kisses and conversations spiraling through her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Don’t you like being with me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Because I like being with you, too.” David tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I was going to ask you later, but I don’t want to wait. We’re going to Pompeii next month to do some recording, and I want you to come with me.”

Her mouth fell open. “Just me?”

“Yes,” he whispered with a soft smile. “Just you.”

“What about school?”

“Has that ever stopped you before?”

She glanced down. “David, I want to go but-”

“But what?” He cupped her chin. “What’s the real reason?”

“I’m not sure ... what your expectations are.”

“Expectations? For what?” David cocked his head. “Wait, are you talking about …” he broke off, sighing. “That’s not why I spend time with you.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I understand the business.”

“Christ, Natalie, do you really think so little of me? I’m not some untamed beast.”

The indignation in his eyes was new to her, miles away from Robert’s cavalier visage, always ready with a quick wink or a crafty smirk to save the day. Her mind was a maelstrom as David studied her, his eyes silently assuring, persuading. “Alright, I’ll come.” His brilliant grin elicited one of her own.

“The second thing you’ve said today that makes me very happy.” David closed the gap between them. “Very happy,” he murmured, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb. “Tu es si belle ... so, so beautiful.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, a subtle plea of sorts.

Always the gentleman. Polite to a fault. Natalie nodded, holding her breath as his hand drifted into her hair. Her eyes shut as he urged her closer, their lips meeting in a plush feather kiss. A caress so tender that it nearly wasn’t there. She gasped as he pulled her against him, guiding her to open, his tongue seeking hers. He wanted more than his usual fare, and he was making that fact known. A current of searing heat ripped through her as she wrapped herself around him. This was a different David, a far more demanding one, and she liked it. She liked it a lot.