Emie woke up in a bit of a daze in the early morning.  It was still rather dark in the room, but she could tell the sun was almost ready to make it’s rise over the horizon.   She was a bit disoriented at first, but then quickly remembered she was in Tom’s room.  In Tom’s bed.  The view from the foot of the bed was a direct line out over the deck, the lagoon and toward Mt. Otemanu.  They had left the doors open to let the cool night air in.  She could see the hazy morning just starting to break.
       Not surprisingly, the earlier hours spent with Tom had passed by quickly.  She wasn’t even sure when they had fallen asleep, but it was hours after the first time they made love.  After that, they had touched and kissed and laughed, and then did it all over again.  The second time was much slower, and intensely intimate.  She knew she never wanted to give him up. 
       She had never felt so connected to another person.  And in the moments after, when she was holding him and both of them were quiet, she felt completely calm and totally terrified all at once.  Tom had seemed to sense this, and he had talked to her. Not about them, but about little, more inconsequential things.  Things that would immediately get her mind off her darker worries.  He’d asked her about her favorite Christmas, her biggest accomplishment and her favorite place to be kissed.  Her answers were the Christmas she was ten, finishing her first novel and her shoulders, respectively.  She asked him the same, and he answered the Christmas he was twelve- the last one he’d had before his parents split, the first time his father gave him his blessing to continue acting, and his neck.  Then they had tested out their answers to the last question.
       Sometime late that night, or very early that morning, they had ravaged their leftovers from dinner.  Emie had never had food that was so delicious even at room temperature.  They ate everything that Marcus had left for them—some kind of chicken in lemon sauce, pasta, blanched asparagus, and these delicious tiny rolls that they ended up fighting over who got the last one.  Emie won, of course, Tom being the gentleman he was.  But when she wasn’t looking, he ate the remaining bit of it straight out of her fingers.  Then there had been the strawberries and chocolate fondue.  Emie and Tom tore through the strawberries, eating them in bed and giggling as the red juice ran down their fingers.  The fondue had gotten too hard to dip their fruit in, but it was still soft enough for Emie to dip her finger into it and draw a long line of it from the dip at the bottom of Tom’s neck straight down his chest, his stomach and lower.  After that, all bets had been off.  They had eventually ended up in Tom’s huge, stone shower.  Then, Emie had ended the evening a weak kneed, wet haired, giggling mess in Tom’s bed.
       Emie rolled onto her side, facing Tom. She pulled the sheet up over her chest, and watched him sleep.  He was lying on his stomach, his face turned toward hers.  She reached forward, gently running a finger next to his hair line, across his forehead and down his cheek.  She wondered exactly how they had gotten here.  It had seemed to happen so fast, and so achingly slow all at the same time.
       “Are you going to murder me in my sleep now? Is that how it works?” He mumbled, his voice low and scratchy.  He didn’t open his eyes, but there was a small smile on his lips.  Emie snorted back a laughed and then gently pinched his cheek with her fingers.
       “I have to wait until there’s a ring on my finger.  Gotta get that insurance money.” She said, her voice serious.  Tom opened an eye then, his brow furrowed.  Emie burst into laughter, and he grabbed her with one arm around her waist, growling.
       “Oh, I see how it is.  I see what this is about.” He laughed and Emie shook her head.  “Well, in that case.”  He rolled to the side of his bed, and started fiddling around.  Emie frowned trying to see what he was doing.  He laughed and nudged her back with his shoulder, glancing at her.  A few seconds later, he came back with a box.  A small, square box.  Emie blinked.
       “Tom, I was completely joking.” She said drily. Tom grinned, and reached over, turning on the lamp on his nightstand.  The room filled with a soft, amber glow.  He sat across from her, naked except for the sheet over his waist, his aimlessly long legs poking out at the bottom of the bed.  Emie bit her lip nervously.
       “I know that, don’t worry.  But, this is still for you.” He leaned toward her, holding out the box.  Emie narrowed her eyes, looking at the box but not taking it.  He sighed and leaned forward, thrusting it into her hands.
       “Tom…” She sat up, and the sheet covering her immediately fell off.  She awkwardly grabbed the sheet with one hand, and the small box with the other.  He smiled, watching her squirm.
       “Just relax and open it, Em.” He leaned back on one arm, lying on his side as he watched her.  Emie sighed, tucking the sheet under her arms and then slowly opening the small box.  Inside was a single pearl on a delicate gold chain.  Emie looked at Tom, curious as to why he was giving her a pearl.
       “It’s really beautiful, Tom, but…” She smiled, holding it out to him.  He smiled, glancing down at the box and taking it from her.  He gently pulled the jewelry out of the holder and held it up to her.  The small, beautiful white pearl hung between them, like all the unspoken words, all the unspoken feelings.  He looked at her, his blue eyes mischievous. 
       “It’s not a ring....” He reached forward and opened the clasp.  Emie leaned in and let him put it around her neck.  “It’s a pearl that belonged to one of the Bronte sisters.  No one is really quite sure who, but it is from their family heirlooms.” He ran his finger down the chain, and to the pearl.  “I know how much you love Jane Eyre.  I thought you might find inspiration from something that Bronte actually owned.  Something that maybe inspired her too.”  Emie froze, her hand coming up and covering his. 
       “You’re joking.” She whispered.  He shook his head, looking a bit bashful.
       “No.  Do you like it?” He asked.  Emie blinked.
       “I can’t…believe you got this for me.” She said, nearly speechless.  “No one has ever…” She trailed off, not able to take her eyes off of him.  He gave a quiet chuckle, and wrapped her hand in his.
       “My sisters are big romantic English literature fans-- Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters.  One of them told me they were going to an auction and I asked them to keep any eye out for me.” He licked his lips, still watching her reaction.  Emie was still a bit in shock.  It was one of the most thoughtful, and most likely expensive, gifts anyone had ever given her.  At this point, she was pretty sure Tom could have given her an old shoe and she would have cherished it.
       “Tom. I don’t know what to say.  Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispered, feeling tears spring to her eyes.  Tom laughed and reached for her, pulling her down and into his arms.  They tumbled backward onto the bed, into the small mountain of pillows behind them.  Emie buried her face in his neck, a bit surprised and embarrassed by her tears.  Tom kissed the top of her head, and wrapped his strong, lean arms around her.
       “Are you crying? Why are you crying, silly girl?” He whispered into her ear.  Emie laughed, brushing away her tears.  She let him tip her face gently back, his hand under her chin.  She reached up, touching the pearl, and then put both hands on the sides of his face.
       “Someone pinch me.” Emie ran her fingers across his cheeks.  He smiled, the lines by his eyes crinkling.  She felt one of his hands wander down her side, across the small of her back and then lightly pinch her butt.  She laughed.
       “Want another?” He grinned.  Emie laughed and kissed him.
       “I don’t want this week to end.” She mumbled into his neck.  Tom squeezed her tightly.
       “It’s just beginning, Em.” He said softly. 
      

      
       When Emie woke up next, she was alone in bed.  The doors to the bungalow were almost closed, and she could hear the patter of rain out on the deck and on the lagoon.  Occasionally, there was a low, slow rumble of thunder which she assumed had woken her up.  She glanced around, and didn’t see Tom.  She sat up, checking the clock and was shocked to see it was nearly one in the afternoon.  She wouldn’t have easily known, because it was still quite dark outside. 
       Emie stretched, feeling her muscles object to the movement.  Everything felt a bit sore, and tired and wonderfully tender.  She blushed and felt a smile curl on her lips, knowing exactly why she felt that way.  She slid out of bed, and grabbed a t shirt that was laying on a chair nearby.  She pulled it on, and was immediately engulfed by Tom’s familiar scent.
       “Tom?” She called out.  There wasn’t many places he could be.  She checked in the sitting area, and then poked her head in the open door of the bathroom.  No Tom.  She frowned, walking past the big bathtub, and sliding open the wide doors that opened to the deck.  It was pouring rain outside.  The sky was completely dark and gray and it seemed as if sheets of rain were falling from the sky.  Emie stepped back, feeling the cool water splash onto her bare legs.  As she turned back to leave the bathroom, she heard the door of the bungalow open and then she heard a scuffling of feet.
       “Em?” Tom’s voice rang through the space, loud and energetic.  Emie walked forward, stopping at the door to the bathroom as Tom rounded the corner and nearly ran into her.  He was soaking wet.  His hair was plastered to his forehead, along with his tshirt and dripping shorts.  He ran a hand through his hair, smiling.
       “What were you doing?!” Emie asked, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him into the tiled bathroom and off the wood floors of the bedroom.  “You’re soaked!” Tom laughed, and shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere.  Emie squealed and raised her hands up.
       “I went for a run.  I didn’t want to wake you.  I got caught in this crazy storm.” He pulled at his shirt, which was sticking to him like glue.  Emie noticed that he was shaking slightly.
       “Are you cold?” She asked, taking a step forward and watching water drip down his legs and onto the floor.  Tom shivered and then pulled his soaking wet shirt up over his head.  Emie paused and watched him, enjoying the view a bit too much.  She was distracted though, by the slight way his hands were shaking and the way he seemed to fumble a bit, as if he needed to urge his hands to work as quickly as they normally did.
       “It was freezing out! And with the wind, it was incredible.  I was about two miles away when it started, so, I got the brunt of it.” He grinned, his teeth chattering slightly.  Emie fought the urge to just gather him in her arms and rock him like a little lost puppy.
       “Oh my gosh.” Emie grabbed his wet shirt from him, and threw it into the sink.  “Take off your wet clothes so you can get warm.” She said and she started walking toward the shower to get it ready for him.  Tom watched her, then leaned down and pulled off his trainers and socks. 
       “Want to join me?” He asked softly.  Emie turned around, and pursed her lips, as if she had to think about it.
       “Yes.” She nodded.
       “Let’s have a bath then, yeah?” He tilted his head toward the huge white porcelain tub a few feet from them.  Emie grinned and nodded.  She walked over and turned on the faucets.  Hot water poured from the waterfall faucet, and rapidly began filling the tub.
       She bent over it, testing the temperature with her hand.  A moment later, she felt Tom walk up behind her.  He stepped up directly behind her, making Emie’s entire body come to attention.  She waited.  It didn’t take long before she felt his hands, move slowly up her bare thighs, pushing up the shirt she was wearing.  Her shirt, really his shirt, hardly covered her lower half as it was, and so in no time, he had it pushed up around her waist.  He wrapped an arm around her middle, and pulled her back against him.  She felt his body, hard and ready, against her own.  She shivered slightly, mostly because he was so cold.
       Emie turned around and Tom left his hands under her shirt, rotating her as she moved.
       “You’re freezing.” She said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She ran her hands through his damp hair, kissing warmth back into his lips.
       “Warm me up.” He groaned as his fingers found her breasts.  His cold hands against her warm body made Emie gasp and then giggle, shrinking away slightly.  He laughed, knowing it was a bit evil to touch her with cold fingers.  He grabbed the ends of her shirt and pulled it over her head.  They collided together, and Emie felt the coolness of his muscles against the needy heat of her own body. 
       “Ladies first.” He said, breaking from their kiss and motioning to the tub.  Emie held his hand as he helped her climb into the tub.  She sighed, sinking down into the hot water.  All alone in the tub, she felt almost like a tiny child.  It was so big.  The gently sloping sides were angled perfectly for lying back and relaxing.  Tom walked over to the French doors, and opened them slightly, giving them an amazing view of the stormy lagoon.  The sound of the rain was their soundtrack, and it was perfect.  He stepped into the tub a moment later, groaning as he did.
       “I need one of these at my house.” Emie sighed.  Tom grinned and nodded, watching as water spilled over the edge and into the overfill.  Emie motioned for him to come to her, opening her legs so he could sit between them.  Tom sighed as he sat back, his back against her chest.  Emie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning forward and kissing the back and sides of his head.   Tom closed his eyes, relaxing against her.  She did the same, feeling his hands on either of her knees, stroking her gently.
       “Warmed up?” She asked softly into his ear.  Tom nodded, but didn’t say anything.  She could feel how relaxed he was, his body pressed against hers.  He tilted his head to the side and kissed her.  Emie wondered if there was any way she could just keep this moment.  Keep it safe and locked away, so she would always remember it exactly as it was. She would gladly give up thousands of other memories if it meant she would always have this one—clear and pristine in her mind.
       “Want me to get some room service in a bit?” He asked, his voice just as relaxed as his body.  Emie nodded.
       “Sure, what do you want to eat?” She idly ran her hands up and down his arms.  He sighed softly.
       “Besides you?” He mumbled.  Emie laughed and squeezed her thighs around him.
       “You’re insatiable.” She kissed his neck.  He nodded, then opened his eyes.  They were clear and almost an icy blue in the dim light.  She licked her lips.
       “For you, yes.” He wasn’t smiling.  Emie wrinkled her nose at him, and then kissed him.  He pulled away a moment later, looking at her.  “Are you writing anything now?” He asked.  Emie frowned slightly.
       “Right now? This exact moment? Yes, I’m writing a manifesto on how to get beautiful men into a bathtub.  It’s amazing.” She grinned.  His laughter rang through the quiet room. 
       “I finished your book, Em.  I noticed it’s been quite some time since you published anything.” He said.  He reached into the water, gently massaging her calves and legs. She loved the way he touched her. Emie took a deep breath.
       “You finished it? What did you think?” She asked, holding in her breath.
       “It was brilliant.  You’re a natural.” He said easily.  “Some of it is so you.  It’s like reading your thoughts, but then you’ve got this unpredictable element.  I loved it.” He kissed her arm, which was resting over his shoulder.  Emie smiled.
       “I’m glad you liked it.”
       “So why isn’t there more?” He prodded gently.  Emie shrugged. “You write your column for the paper, but I feel like that’s not what you really love doing.”
       “Things got a bit crazy when I published my second one.  I wanted to stay anonymous.  There was talk about movie options, and it just got to be a bit too much.  I’m so thankful for the success, but I don’t need all the other stuff.”
       “Movie options? Really?” He sat up a bit, looking at her.  Emie laughed and rolled her eyes.
       “Don’t get all excited.” She scoffed.  He grinned.
       “It would be a fantastic movie.  And I know a few people who would love to be in it.” He winked at her, and Emie leaned forward and bit his shoulder.
       “Shut up.” She smiled.
       “Seriously, Em.  Why didn’t you go with it?” He asked.  She sighed.
       “The bigger it gets, the less likely I’ll be able to stay Eme Leo.” She told him the truth.   He nodded, a thousand emotions running through his eyes.
       “If you really wanted to stay private, there are ways.  Don’t let it stall you, Em.” He said gently.  She nodded, then absently ran her hands down his chest and stomach.
       “I know.” She said nodded.
       “You don’t want to meet your fans? People that adore your work?  You wouldn’t want to see your book come to life?” He asked, settling against her again.  Emie was quiet for a moment, her hands pressed against his abdomen.
       “It would be nice, but I’m okay.  I can read their reactions online, and I get fan mail.” She ran her fingers gently across his stomach.  She felt his muscles tense under her hands.
       “It’s not the same as meeting someone.” He said.  “It can be a really incredible feeling—connecting to your audience.” He said, his voice catching slightly as she moved her hands.
       “Oh? Can it?” She whispered into his ear, smiling.  Emie moved her hands lower, taking him in her hands.  He was hard immediately, and Tom grabbed her knees.  “Do you count as my audience? Can I connect with you?” She couldn’t help but laugh.  He groaned and then she felt his hands slide down her thighs.
       “I can tell you’re changing the subject.  I’ll let it slide for now, but—“ He lost his train of thought momentarily as Emie began to move her hands up and down the length of him.  In the heat of the water, Emie felt as if everything was escalated and ten times more sensitive.
       “But what, Hiddleston?” She smirked.  He groaned, his hands holding onto her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs. 
       “But…” He groaned and she watched him close his eyes, his lips parted slightly.  She leaned forward, kissing his neck and running her tongue over the soft, tender skin.  She was surprised when she didn’t just lose him right then and there.  “Oh god, Em.” He said breathlessly.  She squirmed against him, feeling his back press against her thighs and stomach.
       “You’re warm now.” She giggled into his ear, letting her hands roam back up his stomach and chest.  Tom opened his eyes, and she was nearly alarmed at the amount of desire she saw there.  It was primal, possessive.  Tom turned, and then suddenly he was above her, his body half way out of the tub, steaming water streaming down his bare chest.  Emie sunk down in the tub, feeling dwarfed by him.  He steadied himself with his arms on either side of her head, his blue eyes locked on her.
       “I need you. Now.” He said roughly.  Emie reached up, running her hands down his chest and taking him in her hands again. He shuddered slightly, his brilliant eyes closing for a minute before he was suddenly sitting back in the tub, pulling her rather unceremoniously onto his lap.  Emie gasped and laughed as water rushed over the sides, some of it spilling onto the floor.  Tom didn’t seem to even notice. 
       She straddled him, her thighs on either side of his.  She could only hold back for just a moment before sinking slowly down on him.  Every nerve in her body sighed with pleasure.  Tom grabbed her hips, his jaw tense and his eyes dazed.  He let out a low, slow curse that she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him say.  She blushed, despite herself, at his reaction.
       “I am so sorry…” He groaned, looking almost in pain.  “But you are fucking incredible.” He leaned forward, whispering this in her ear.  Emie grinned, moving her hips against his and wrapping her arms around his neck.
       “Don’t apologize, I was thinking the same about you.” She raked her fingers across his wide, muscular back and stopped fighting the cry of pleasure that had been quickly building in her chest.