Chicago, 1945

Chicago, 1945



Prolouge:-



He stayed rooted there, jacket clad shoulder shoved carelessly against the bitter cold steel of the lamp-post practically super glued down to the very spot with the blindingly bright amber glow of the lamp blazing down upon him. Thin slivers of his face remained slightly obscured by the shadow the wide brim of his now dirtied off-white fedora cast across his strikingly handsome features as he tilted his defined jaw up a touch, rich mahogany gaze resting on the window several feet above him.


What on earth was her problem?


Her blurred shadow was mostly visible flitting back and forth across the room through the few open slats in the old shutters which she'd neglected to shut, pacing the length of he small motel room which he'd paid for furiously. No doubt still fuming about their earlier confrontation. Michael's suspision's were confirmed when he reluctantly pushed himself away from the post with a heavy sigh pausingly briefly to reajust his fedora before stepping as slowly as possible out of the circular beam of light beaming onto the cobbles which glittered slightly with the nights damp under his spats, he lightly jogged up the several concrete steps and wrapped an abnormally large mocha palm around the rusted door knob only to find she still hadn't seen fit to un-lock the door.


Forcing out a few mumbled curses through gritted teeth Michael raised a balled up palm more than ready to bash harshly against the splintering panels of dull gray wood but thought better of it after hearing yet another glass object shatter against the wall. He figured it may be best to allow her time to cool off before ever showing his face in that room. So he turned his back to the door instead, letting his tired, aching body slip slowly down onto the dank top step. Elbows resting on his knees as he glared out across the near deserted street. The sun had long ago vanished behind the tall, lean structures of the sky scrapers and taken the radiant clash of bold violet and glowing orange with it leaving a smooth velvet dark navy canvas in its place, broken only by the generous smattering of tiny, glowing silver orbs illuminated by the full moon suspended high above the park. Late night fog was just beginning to drift in from the west of the city, dusting the lower parts of Chicago in a impenatrable haze, the mouth watering aroma of freshly baked pastries still heavy in the muggy air.


Yanking his hat of his curly crown he dropped his head into his hands with a low groan all of a sudden feeling rightly awful.


He hadn't meant to scream at her the way he did...


But the combined mixture of his pure, unhinged fury when he'd overseen that idiot kiss her and the all consuming jealousy which soon followed as he numbly watched her return his kiss eagerly had proven to much for him to bear. And then as if by some miricle it would make her see his feelings for her he'd gone and taken all of those emotions and aimed them soley at a woman he'd become increasingly fond of over the past few months.


Now he was the one having to deal with the harsh consequenses of his stupid actions.


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Chapter One:-



Just who the hell did he think he was?!?

With a agrivated moan Viviene slumped down onto the small, wooden stool placed in front of a modest sized vanity table which was no doubt part of a two piece self assemble set she paused to steady herself on the wobbly stool before plonking her elbows onto the counter, dropping her chin into her left palm gazing disbelievingly at her reflection in the mirror, hardly able to recognize the woman she saw glaring back at her through tired, red, puffy eyes with her make-up smudged down her gorgeous cheek bone structure and wild mane of touselled, matted chesnut brown curls flopping lifelessly over her olive toned shoulders. Was that honestly her?

She shuddered slightly, forcing herself to remove her gaze from the gaunt face, pale and dull in comparison to what she was at her best. Focusing instead on the window, he was out there . . . Somewhere. Most likely pacing the streets muttering furiously to himself about how he'd love throttle her right now, how he'd love to grab her and really give her a good rattling in hope of knocking some sense into her stubborn head.

Well, too bad. He shouldn't pop off at the mouth at the tiniest thing.

She was really begining to ponder over what the hell ran through his mind, what on earth made him so distant the majority of the time and yet so attentive and protective when she was in need of a helping hand. Confused didn't cover half of what she was feeling, it wasn't even a quater. Dragging a hand across her face she groaned softly, God her head was pounding.

Great.

Swallowing thickly she forced any thoughts of Michael to the back of her mind busying herself with un-doing the buttons on the front of her simple yet elegant silk dress, slipping the garment over broad yet utterly feminine shoulders and long, sinewy arms until it hit the rug soundlessly.

Long, nimble piano fingers undid the suspenders with ease, rolling sheer black stockings down seemingly never ending, shapely legs, placing them carefully on the dresser where she was sure they wouldn't ladder, leaving her in nothing but her underwear as she padded gently across the room to retrieve the cream satin floral patterened dressing gown from the peg on the back of the bedroom door and proceeded through into the equally small bathroom to draw herself a much needed bath.

She gazed around the bathroom for a moment, discoloured tiles graced the floor, wallpaper beginning to shred from the wall in clumps from where the condensation from the constant running of scalding water had worn away the paste, a tiny toilet had been jammed into the corner which she didn't even want to look at let alone use, and yet no matter how hard she looked she couldn't see any toiletries. No shampoo nor bath creme. No razors or even soap.

Aw, crap.

Viviene yanked the lapels of the gown around her petite frame, knotting the tie in a matter of seconds as she stepped forward shifting through the cupboards where much to her utter delight she found a bunch of feminine toiletries, grasping the shampoo and bubble bath from the very back of the cabinet and after adding a drop of fruity scented bubble bath into the water she placed them carefully onto the window ledge purching herself on the side of the tub. Eyes drifting shut at the relaxing sensation of the steam rising from the pool of hot water gathering in the tub and brushing against the tense, knotted muscles in her back as they were pulled towards the crack in the top window.

Craning back the tap she shed the rest of her clothing, tossing them back into the bedroom via the door she left ajar, hearing them land in a muffled heap on one of the two small cots and stepped gingerly into the tub, slipping right into the hot water allowing all of her troubles disolve in the soothing aroma lingering in the small, dimly lit room.


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His hand hovered over the knob as he contemplated opening the door and for a short moment actually believed he'd be a hell of a lot better off if he payed for another room, one he didn't have to share with her. Of course the rational, wize half of his brain simply refused to acknowledge the thought.

They had money, but not enough for him to go blowing it on a thousand motel rooms, so he simply grimaced and twisted the knob startling slightly when the door slowly crept open with a loud squeak. Stepping into the inky blackness of the hallway Michael was forced to pause momentarily needing to take a second or two to adjust to the darkness before he slowly moved through the hall into the open bedroom at the end of the room keeping the dull thud of his soles on the creaky wood as quiet as possible so not to stir her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful lay there clad in nothing but a satin night gown, one leg crossed gracefully over the other. Long soft curls fanned across the pillow. It had never been so hard to keep himself in check. God he wanted her so bad he literally ached. And he hated it, the power she had over him.

Removing his eyes from the two small but perky mounds of tan flesh rising and falling slowly with each breath she took he swallowed thickly as he quickly turned his back towards her bed, removing his fedora and hooking it on the corner of the mirror as he shrugged out of his jacket with some difficulty finally slinging it across the stool before un-knotting his tie. Mind realing.

He loved her, this had to be the real thing. . . Didn't it?

Surely if he hadn't fallen in love with her then he wouldn't put up with her stubborn nature or ever-lasting temper, would he?

Or would he? . . . No. No he wouldn't. . .

Glancing over his shoulder he let his gaze wonder over her as she shifted onto her side, one hand snaking beneath the pillow while the other rested across her stomach.

. . .Unless it was just lust?

He'd now removed his clothes and was now stood there in nothing but a pair of red boxers hovering almost wantingly over her, deperate to touch her, longing to feel the silky smooth curve of her waist under his tingling fingers yet he dare not do it for fear once he'd started he may not be able to stop.


Boy was this gonna be one looong night

Chapter Two (Part One):-

He rolled heavily onto his right side, silently cursing the matress as it squealed loudly in protest at the sensation of his weight shifting once again, turning his back to the window and the icy cold world which lay beyond the old shutters, window pane and sheer chiffon cream drapes and allowing his restless gaze to fall upon her resting form, a sight he'd been attempting to avoid since his almost loss of control no less than two hours ago.

She was now facing him, one dainty fist curled up under her pillow the other resting over the soft curves of her feminine waist rising and falling every other second as she exhaled, her thick waterfall of mid length chestnut brown hair cascading over her exposed brown sugar shoulders glistening in the dull lighting. He swore she was an angel sent straight from the heavens. She sighed softly, blowing away a stray curly stand from her cheek lost in the sweet abyss of her slumber.

And in that moment he envied any man that had ever touched her, any man who was lucky enough to get close enough to her to hold her in his arms, or place a gentle peck upon her silken, plump lips. He uttered a low groan into the fabric of the linen pillow case and tossed back the thin cotton sheet sitting up abruptly, grimicing as the matress cried out in annoyance.

I swear I'm gonna put a bloody bullet in this damn thng if it don't shut the hell up!

resting his hands by his sides Michael removed his gaze from the smooth skin of her slender neck, dropping his eyes to the rough carpet scratching at the balls of his feet and he made damn sure to keep them glued to the carpet as he slowly rose and padded quietly around her bed grabbing his crumpled shirt from where he'd slung it across the stool and slipped it over broad, rich mocha shoulders. Long, slender fingers working through the bottons at lightning speed and in no time he was plonking his faithful old fedora atop of his messy crown hoping that the hat would distract from his dishevelled appearance as he shoved his feet into his spats, needing to just get out for a minute or two.

And at least attempt to get her out of his mind.

If that was possible...