Hope Has A Place by Enya
Memory of Trees album

Michael's arm was warm against her as he clung to her in his sleep. His fingers gripped Nikita's tightly, and his breathing was gentle against her shoulder.

She raised her hand to her throat and her fingers touched the smooth silver of the choker around her neck. The small silver balls rolled gently against her skin and she closed her eyes, remembering.

* * * * *

It was no longer a question whether or not Michael would come over for dinner. Both knew that at five minutes after six, Michael would knock on her door, bearing a bottle of Merlot.

But tonight, in addition to the bottle of wine, Michael carried in something else. She saw it slightly bulging the breast pocket of his coat, where he kept his cell phone.

As always he neatly folded his coat and lay it over the back of his chair, always a part of the ritual. She took the bottle of wine from him and his graceful fingers brushed over hers. So soft and sensuous that brief touch, and his fingers lingered. Nikita shivered.

And shivered again when again their fingers met as she served him dinner. He grasped her free hand in his as his thumb rubbed across her palm. His eyes stared deeply into hers, speaking volumes.

During dinner they traded smiles and promises, the single candle on the table flickering over Michael's aristocratic features, dancing in his dark eyes.

Nikita turned away to clear the table, and she turned back to find an unornamented box on the placemat beside her wineglass. Looking up at Michael, she kept her eyes on him as she opened the box and withdrew the necklace inside. Michael reached out and took the necklace out of her hands, and she moved towards him, kneeling in front of him.

Michael brushed her hair from the nape of her neck and kissed the warm skin before draping the hand-warmed metal against her throat. His fingertips brushed against her nape as he closed the clasp, and he moved his hands to her shoulders as she turned to first stare into his eyes and then to kiss him. As they kissed, Nikita was aware of the necklace caressing her throat. And later, as they made love, Michael's necklace rubbed sweat-slickened against her as she moved.

* * * * *

As she lay quietly remembering, the necklace seemed to throb with her heartbeat.

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