Another *Deleted* (unedit) Scene from Felicity Stripped Bare

Sunday, June 29, 2008

This is another scene with the hero's parents that got the ole heave ho during edits. I really wished I had a stronger reason to keep the scenes with just them, but there really wasn't a secondary plot here. They have their little quibbles (the situation between Daniel and his dad, Michael, being the most major of thing), but these two really are happily married, still very much in love and still have the hots for each other.

Daniel’s departure had left an awkward silence, but Michael shrugged off his irritation and went to greet his wife properly. At the last minute she averted her head and his kiss missed its target by a fraction of an inch. Michael chuckled; her little show of defiance only aroused him. As she well knew it would.

He grasped Elle’s chin, turning her mouth to him, then he took his full satisfaction and gave her hers in his own sweet time. When he was done, a lovely blush warmed her cheeks and her eyes glowed with the same heat they’d held from that very first kiss thirty-five years ago.

“That’s better,” he murmured.

The words had barely tripped off his tongue, before the light dimmed in her gaze and her succulent mouth firmed with displeasure. Michael sighed, releasing Elle as she pushed against his chest.

“No, it’s not better.”

“Now, now, honey.” He quickly stepped back around the desk, not under any illusion that he was escaping.

“You and Daniel have to stop this constantly being at each other’s throats.” She followed and perched on his lap, her perfume wrapping him in a whispery veil of desire and memory. He shifted in his seat. Dratted woman.

Elle feathered light caresses at his temple. “I really want you to try with Daniel, darling. So, no arguing at dinner on Friday. Promise me.” She smiled at him.

Sometimes he could throttle his lovely wife’s lovely neck. This was no smiling matter. Michael had nightmares about these incessant get-togethers she planned. The three of them trapped at the table for another interminable dinner. He and Daniel having nothing to say to each other. Nothing in common. Bile scrummed at the back of his throat.

“Especially no talk about business,” Elle continued as she smoothed her slim hands down his chest. She plucked lightly at his tie pin and he felt the tug clear down to where the soft curve of her bum nestled in his lap. The woman would be the death of him. He cleared his throat.

“If your son came to his senses, there would be no problems,” he groused.

“Our son,” she jerked his tie a bit tighter and her mouth turned into a sweet rosebud of a pout, “has the same amount of sense his father has.”

Michael shook his head. Daniel’s decision wasn’t based on straight thinking. “This was all for him.” He gestured to the spacious well-appointed room.

“In part, yes. But this is your dream, Michael. Our son has other dreams. This,” she swept her hand to encompass the large surface of his desk, “—represents your success. Daniel will have his own—”

“Here,” he choked out, his anger whiplashed back into existence. “I want him to have success here at Mackenzie, Phillips and Basset, Elle. Here, goddamit! Three generations of our family have helmed this firm, and he's going to piss it all away to follow some half-assed pipedream.”

“They’re his to follow, sweetheart.”

“That’s not how it works.” Michael sighed, wisely not giving voice to his thoughts. She’d always coddled the boy. He on the other hand had striven to instill the importance of the family name, the firm, and all it represented in Daniel. He’d failed.

“You’re going to lose your son,” she whispered.

“I already have.”

The acknowledgement weighted too heavily on him. Gently, Michael encouraged Elle to get up, then he drew a file towards him. “Now, was there something else? I’ve got some important things to attend to.”

“More important than your relationship with Daniel?”

He felt a burning in his chest. It burrowed and lived there. He slipped his reading glasses back on.

“I won’t let this happen, Michael. You two men are going to bond, so help me God, if I have to handcuff you together in a very small locked room somewhere.”

Michael stared at the door long after Elle had slammed it shut. He felt a chill on his top lip and wiped away the tiny beads of perspiration there. She would do it too.

The thought scared the bejeezus out of him.
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raine said...

...Of course, you could always write a nice, mature romance featuring people like this...JUST like this... :D

vanessa jaye said...

lol. That's what I like about you, Raine. You're pure evol. ;-P

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