A Formal Tea

Julie could tell Robert was on guard as he entered. She wasn't sure why so she smiled, hoping to set him
more at ease.

He paused there in the doorway. It was his first sight of her clean and wearing fresh clothing. He hadn't
realized until that moment just how entirely stunning the woman was. But he kept his lips in a straight
line, not at all ready for her to see his appreciation. He still had much he needed to find out and that
she was a writer was of some concern to him.

"Good day," he said, slightly stiffly. "I've come for tea."

His mouth might not have betrayed his thoughts, but his eyes were more expressive than he intended
they be. An intelligent woman and now in full possession of her faculties once more, she knew better
than to respond to the eyes so soon, so let his lips set her tone. This was a man who would simply
leave if it thought it best.

"Robert," she repeated his name. "I'm Julie. Short for Julianna." She didn't try to take his hand in greeting
as he didn't offer it. "Please come in."

Julianna. It suited her in his mind better than Julie. It was more formal and he felt formal right now. "Thank
you, Julianna. I trust you are somewhat recovered."

"The bath did wonders," she replied. "It's so good finally to have all the mud off. Thank you for what you did
for me at the stream. I...I'm not sure I would have made it home caked as I was."

He tipped his head in acknowledgement of her thanks. "I was passing by. You needed assistance."

Ok, she thought. He's really being formal here. Why? "Tea is in here," she said, leading him to a small nook set in a
bay window where a little round table with two chairs was set for tea.

When they were seated and she'd filled his cup, she asked, "Have you been long in the Glen, Robert?"

Damn! The woman was going to pry. "Not long."

"And you came from England?"

"I did." He took a sip of tea. "Very good." He set his cup down, resting his wrists on the edge of the table, trying not
to look as uncomfortable as he felt. What he needed was to find out just who this woman was and why she was here.
"And you? You are only recently arrived, I believe."

Ah, good. He wanted to know about her, too. That was a good sign. "Yes, just a couple of days ago, in fact."

"Why did you choose such a...remote...location, if I may ask?" If she truly were a woman alone, that seemed a bit odd to him.

She looked across the table at him. There was not a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, despite his being English, that he had
any idea of who she was. He must not have ever come across any of her books or watched the celebrity stalking news shows
on the tellie. "It can be a good thing," she replied carefully, "for a writer to be in a place where there are few...interruptions."

So, she wanted no interruptions, but yet practically waylaid him to come for tea? "Do you intend to stay long?"

"At least until I finish my book. And I've only just started it."

"A novelist? Do you do...other...forms of writing?"  Please, he thought, please don't be a journalist.

"Just that. It's kept me quite busy. This is my eighth book, in fact."

"Eight? That's impressive to have seven books published."

"I was lucky. The first one was a hit and just paved the way for the rest. It's all a continuing series."

"Very nice," he said with the slightest smile, relieved she didn't write for the papers or a magazine. "Did you not consider, though, a flat somewhere in Sydney in a private high-rise building?"

Great. He didn't want her in his neighborhood. Why was he so damn set on being the only resident out here? "No," she answered, "I have such a flat in London. I wanted something completely different. And...," she looked out the window, "I love roses."

"It does have lovely roses," he granted, "but is it not rather isolated? You already landed yourself in a bit of a pickle this morning. What if no one had come along? That is a real possibility in such a location as this."

"But you did come along," she replied, her chin beginning to set at his continued formal way of indicating he wished she weren't there. "And I am fully capable of getting myself out of...pickles...all alone if you had not."

Her eyes flashed with a spark of anger, making her seem even more lovely somehow. Quickly he sipped his tea again so his own eyes could lower with excuse. He liked her flare of temper in response. He would, though, have liked it better had Rose Cottage not existed. "You have lived always in London?" He changed the line of conversation, wanting still to discover more about her without revealing anything of himself.

"I was born there," she said, not completely unriled by him yet. "And I live there now."

"And in between?"

"Why does that matter?"

"It does not matter. I am merely making conversation over tea." His lips curved into that closed-mouth smile again. "You seemed to wish that I come."

Right now she was not sure why she had. He was completely infuriating and she was having to struggle terribly to maintain any freshness of memory of how his hands felt on her body in the stream. And even though she told herself she loathed all her fame, she was somewhat stung that though he was her countryman, he had never heard of her when she was known all over the world.

"And you, Robert," she asked, almost gritting her teeth, "why are you out here so far from civilization?"

He paused, considering how best to answer that. "I am on, shall we say, a Sabbatical?"

"A Sabbatical? You teach?"

"Not exactly, no, but the term will do."

The term would DO? Damn the man! He spoke and yet he said nothing. Inhaling deeply, she tried, "And why were you out in the woods this morning?"

"To rescue you, of course."

"I could have rescued myself," she said, narrowing her eyes in irritation.

"You did not appear all that successful when I arrived."

"I had only recently fallen. Given time, I'm sure I could have managed quite well."

"Quite possibly," he said, rising. "Thank you for the tea, Julianna."  He began to walk toward the door.

She followed quickly behind him, catching up just as he put his hand on the inside knob. "Robert...wait," she said, and without thinking, put her hand over his.

He gasped. Instant electricity flowed through him at her touch and, all unbidden, parts of him awakened. It was nothing more than her hand on his. How could that be enough? He paused, breathing through his mouth, waiting.

She kept her hand there. "I'm sorry, Robert. We seem to have gotten off to an awkward beginning. Truly, I am grateful for all you did for me today." He maintained his silence, so she added, "And since we simply are neighbors, would it be at all possible for us to live in peace?"

He looked down at her upturned face, into her large, beautiful, pleading eyes. Without a word, he moved both hands to her shoulders and kissed her, kissed her long and...well. Then he opened the door and strode rapidly away.