This is a work of fiction, loosely based on the real person, Russell Crowe.  No insult or injury is intended, this story is for entertainment purposes only.

This story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains explicit sexual situations and adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.

Alexandra

By:  MariEllen

©12/2004

Part 1  

Los Angeles July 2001  

Alex is staring into the angry ocean-green eyes again.  

She should have known that she might run into him here. Practically his home turf. He was blocking the doorway leading out to the garden and she just patted him on the shoulder, not really paying attention. Until he turned and she realised too late. 

She has to admit that they are gorgeous green eyes and under different circumstances she wouldn't have minded their encounter. At least he isn't shouting at her, yet. 

She gives him her sweetest smile. "Well?"

Incomprehension flashes through the green. "Well what?" His dark voice growling at her. His voice is deep and sonorous, very masculine. The kind of voice that even when softly spoken, demands attention.

She locks her eyes into his, daring him. "Well, shouldn't you be asking me what the fuck I'm doing here?"  She can see in his face that he is wondering about that. The fact that she's here doesn't agree with who he thinks she is. She's not waiting for his answer. It's the third time he has done this to her, appearing out of nothing, his raw physical power right in her face. She's at a party and determined to have a good time.

Russell is staring at her bare back as she walks away.  A very shapely back. Nice dress too, clinging to her slender body as a second skin. What the fuck is she doing here? It can only mean he was wrong about her before. Had she been the press, she wouldn't be here, not at Nicky's party. So who the fuck is she?

Five months earlier

Alex gestures the flight attendant for another coffee. Or should she take a brandy? Maybe a little alcohol will help her get over the hangover. She decides against it. Feeling a bit nauseous just thinking about it. Asks for another bottle of water instead. Stupid thing to do of course, party all night knowing she had to fly to Rome the day after. Thank God her time is her own for a couple of days. Her brain is still clouded, even after four black coffees. When she gets there, first thing she will do is take a sauna. Nothing better against a hangover than sweating it out.

She takes another peak at the portfolio on her reading table. Her eyes have trouble focusing on the images. Maybe better close them for a while. She wakes up to the sound of the captain's voice over the intercom announcing they will land on Fiumicino Airport within 15 minutes.

The cab stops in front of the five star Exedra Boscolo Hotel situated in the centre of Rome. Alex gets out, carrying her camera. Never travels without at least one. For this trip she's packed the whole case. She's going to need them later in Milan. The bellboy  takes them up to her room, with the rest of her luggage. She checks in and wanders through the lobby, enjoying the majestic architecture. Getting her camera out. Shooting some pictures.

Her suite is on the top floor. The ceilings and sky-lights in the corridors catch her attention. She loves the contrast between the modern design of the sky-lights and the pompous, gilded ornaments on the 17th century baroque ceilings. She lies down on the luxurious carpet, aiming the camera.

Something is blocking her view. Next thing she knows, hard hands pick her up from the floor, violently snatching the camera  from hers. There are three men, half-standing in a doorway and the corridor. Two of them look like bodyguards. The one holding her camera faces her furiously and is shouting at her. "What the fuck do you think you're doing! Can't move my bloody ass without having you fucking parasites in my face. How the fuck did you get past the bloody security anyway?"

Alex is speechless, she feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger. No one shouts at her like that. She tries to regain her composure but before she gets the chance to cut him off with a snide remark, he smashes her camera on the wall and strides out of there, sending some more profanities her way.

She kneels and picks up her camera, it's broken. That stupid, arrogant son of a bitch! 

This is just a great beginning of her stay here. Being assaulted and shouted at by one of the worlds biggest movie stars. Alex did recognize him at once. Russell-big-fucking-ego-Crowe.  

Alex is feeling much better. The hour in the sauna worked miracles. She's refreshed and over her initial anger. Sits on her balcony, enjoying the late afternoon sun and the view on Rome, smoking.

She has started smoking again after David's death. David...her brilliant, talented and troubled husband. He had loved Rome too. Alex feels the tears burn behind her eyes. Dismisses her pain with an angry gesture. No time for that now.

What to do about Crowe? She doesn't feel like complaining to the management, prefers to take it up with him personally. What was he thinking? That she was some kind of paparazzi, lying in wait for him to get out of his room? On the floor? She has to laugh out loud, picturing the scene in her mind, too fucking funny!

Her good humour doesn't mean she's not upset about what happened. The camera was a gift from her father, at six thousand dollars one of his more extravagant gifts, and she had liked it. Not as much as the single lens reflex camera's she uses for her work, but still one of the best digital camera's she's handled..

She loathes the fact that he just smashed it. Can't understand that kind of disrespect for other people’s property.

Part 2.

Alex is in Rome to visit the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna, about the only museum in the city where you can find modern art. They have set up an exhibition with work from Italy's most famous photographers and she's here to see it.

She loves Rome. Ever since her parents sent her over as a kid to complete her 'cultural education'. David had loved Rome too, it's where they met and where he proposed to her.

She's happy that her schedule allows her to spend some extra time in the city. Her appointment in Milan isn't due for another ten days. Giorgio Armani has hired her to shoot the backstage activity during his next fashion show. He's creating a book about his work and career and wants her to contribute to it. They know each other well. Armani is Alex’s favourite designer and she's been at his Milan studio many times. He's organizing a benefit concert that will kick off the Milan Fashion Week, its proceeds going to the Italian branch of 'Children in Need'. The Duchess of York, who founded the charity in the UK, will be there to host the show. Alex smiles thinking of him. Smart move. Good for his image and lots of free publicity, she’s looking forward to working with him.

Alex is standing in front of the National Museum of Modern Art. The exhibition is held in the brand new wing of the museum. Its modern, sober architecture creates an interesting contrast with the museum's massive neo-classical facade. Alex is taking pictures, she loves contrasts. Too bad she's not allowed to shoot inside. The new exhibition halls are terrific, the huge windows letting in lots of light.  The large green spaces all around it open up the building, making it much more suited for modern art than the austere halls of the original museum.

Alex is well acquainted with the photo's exhibited here. The work of Oliviero Toscani is famous all over the world. As the in-house creative director for the Benneton Group, Toscani has shattered every conventionally held idea regarding the role of advertising. Not longer depicting the product he's selling, he instead uses pictures that visualize strong political and ethical ideas. Alex loves how his work created outrage, generated public discussion. She strolls past the most manifest examples of his work. The group-portraits with children of all ethnic backgrounds, the dying AIDS patient, the nun kissing a priest. She pauses at her favourite. The torso of a beautiful black woman, dressed in a flaming red cardigan holding a white baby against her bare breasts.

The next hall is dedicated to Orazio Centaro. Huge pictures of his favourite model Allex Schecker. Celebrating the beauty of male nudity in a very sensuous way. Alex appreciates both the skill of the photographer and the beauty of Schecker's body. She wouldn't mind having him in front of her lens...

She thoroughly enjoys the exhibition, lingering there for hours. Before leaving, she buys a large black and white print of Centaro's nude.

That evening in her suite, she's slumped down on the big sofa, watching TV, zapping through the channels. Stops when she sees Crowe's face. Apparently 'Il Gladiatore' is in Rome to promote his newest movie. Alex has read about his affair with co-star Meg Ryan. She keeps watching the program. She has always liked him as an actor, admires his ability to totally disappear within his characters. And he's not bad to look at, if you like that rugged sort of masculinity... A shame he's a total prick in real life.

The next couple of days Alex spends discovering Rome all over again. Revisiting the familiar sights. The Coliseum, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Sistine Chapel. Carefully avoiding the personal places David took her to. Maybe someday she will be able to, but not yet.

She tries to get in contact with Crowe, but the Hotel's manager tells her that he has left already. He's only been there for two days.  

Alex gets into the Discoteca Rolling Stone in Milan a little early. Armani has sent her an invite to the concert and a backstage pass.

It's already very crowded. Definitely Milan's 'in' crowd. Models, actors, soccer stars and MTV veejays, Alex recognizes a few of them. Mingles a bit, says 'hi' to some of them. The press conference is in progress in another room. She shows her pass and stands in the back. Armani and the band are behind a table, answering questions. To her surprise Crowe is there. She learns that it is actually his band that will perform tonight. Alex didn't know he has a band. She listens carefully to what he has to say. Maybe there will be a chance to address him about her camera.

After the interview, there is a photo shoot. Crowe looks tired. He's dressed very casually in black jeans and a black shirt. His long chestnut hair disheveled. She likes his face. Strong and masculine, with a short trimmed beard. Green-blue eyes with lids that tend to droop a bit, like now when he's tired. He doesn't smile much but when he does, he lights up the room. Like David's smile did. Strange that he should remind her of David, they are nothing alike. David was dark and very tall and slender, not powerful and bulky like Crowe. She realizes that he's looking at her, notices the tightening of his lips and the look of irritation in his eyes, strangely it hurts her feelings. She's used to men being pleased to see her.

When the conference is over she goes back to the concert room. Sarah Furgeson announces the band 'Russell Crowe and TOFOG'.  Alex stands in the back and listens to them. They play well together, enjoying themselves on stage, getting the audience all revved up. It's hard to put a label on their music. A mix of Aussie rock-pop-folk and ballads. Crowe may not be the best singer in the world, but his deep voice has a wonderful warm timbre, stirring something inside her. Alex decides she likes their music.

After the concert, she shows her pass to the guards and is allowed back stage, looking for Giorgio. She's told that he will be with her in a second, so she just hangs around a bit.  There's still a lot of activity, lots of people running around, seemingly disorganized. And then Crowe is in her face again, looking very pissed-off. Green eyes shooting fire. "What the fuck are you doing back here? Are you fucking following me?" It's so ridiculous she has to laugh out loud. His eyes narrow at the sound. She catches a glimpse of Armani waving at her behind his back. She looks Russell straight in the eyes. "It may come as surprise to you Mr. Crowe, but the world doesn't revolve around your ass." Leaving him standing there as she passes to greet Giorgio.

Part 3

Los Angeles early July 2001

Alex is enjoying the party. She's happy she let Alejandro talk her into going. He has always been a good friend of David. Stayed a loyal friend after his death, calling her regularly. The last time he called, he had just wrapped up his latest movie. The star of his movie was throwing a big party to celebrate and he wanted her to accompany him. Persuading her that she needed to get out more, not taking no for an answer.

She is avoiding Russell as much as possible, but somehow it seems like he is all over the place. She moves from room to room,  where there are people eating, drinking and dancing everywhere. Alejandro has introduced her to Nicole and some of the other people he knows. Alex is used to social events. She is totally at ease, wandering around, attracting a lot of looks. She's used to that too. Smiles easily, talks a bit to people, moves freely about.

Russell is following her around with his eyes, trying to recap their previous meetings. The first time he ran into her he had  been too angry to really notice her. He had been in the middle of an extremely full booked promotion tour, flying all over the world to promote his latest movie. Tired, jet lagged and sick of the whole circus. Sick in his heart too, just being dumped by the woman he thought he loved. When he had come face to face with the camera right outside his door, in what was supposed to be a high security hotel, something had snapped. The only thing he vividly remembers are her huge hazel-green eyes, staring at him in shock.

He had noticed her again in Milan, at the press conference, standing in the back. Looking beautiful and sturdy in her faded jeans and leather jacket. She had been staring at him without seeing, an undeniable sadness in her face. It had made him feel strangely guilty and irritated. He had given her a scowled look and when her gaze became less vacant, aware of him, she had blinked and looked away, making him feel even lower.

When he had bumped into her again backstage, hanging around as if she'd belonged there, it had brought out the worst in him. He had shouted at her again. She had laughed in his face and had just walked off. Leaving him standing there without an outlet for his aggression, wondering why the hell she had this effect on him. And now she's here. Walking around, talking to his mates and colleagues, with an elegant ease that takes his breath away. He can't take his eyes off her. He's asking around discretely if anyone knows who she is, finds out that she arrived with Alejandro Amenábar, the director and composer of Nicky's latest film. Maybe he should have a talk with him...

Alex thinks she's getting paranoid, seeing him everywhere, feeling his eyes on her. It makes her restless. Now he's talking to Alejandro, who's waving at her to come over. She just smiles at him, signals 'later' and steps outside into the garden, walking over to the bar. The garden is crowded with people. There's a band playing on stage and lots of couples are dancing. She gets herself a cold beer and finds a seat a little in the back, where she can just sit, quietly overlooking the party.

Russell had a nice chat with Amenábar, talking about his movie. When he noticed her dodging the invitation to come over, it made a great excuse to ask about her and now he knows. He's looking for her. Knows that she must be somewhere outside. Finally spots her sitting at the back, lost in thought.  

"Hi." His voice brings Alex back to the present. "Do you mind?" He's pointing at the chair next to her. She looks at him inquisitively, no anger in his eyes this time. She nods at him and he takes the seat. He's fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, takes one out and then remembers to offer her one. When he bows over to light hers, his little-finger brushes against her hand. It makes her jump. He's just sitting there as if he doesn't know what to say and she's not going to help him. When he speaks his voice is low and soft. "You're David Stern's widow?" The question throws her, she doesn't answer. He goes on. "Alejandro mentioned it."

She doesn't know what he's thinking, but the transition from swearing and barking at her to this unexpected intimate approach isn't working for her. "You sure have a great way of starting a conversation, did anyone ever suggest some people-skills training?" Ha, there it is, the flicker of irritation in his eyes, she knew it wouldn't be buried too deep. He's controlling it. Gives her wry smile. "Yeah, my mom does all the time." Alex suppresses a smile. He tries again. "I'm sorry, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I owe you an apology for my behaviour in Rome."

She looks at him coolly. "I think you owe me a little more than an apology."

He frowns his brows, this is going to be more difficult than he thought. She's watching his reaction and drops casually, "about six grand for my camera?"

"Six grand!" He's partly annoyed and partly amused. "Doncha think that's exaggerating it a bit, luv?"

"No. Maybe you would be well advised to check what you are smashing into walls, before you do so."

His good humour wins. He likes her nerve, her eyes reservedly looking into his, not backing down. Beautiful eyes too. He giggles. "You know what. Tell me what kind of camera it was and I’ll get you a new one."

His giggle surprises her, it doesn't correspond with the idea she has of him in her mind. His smile is so catching that she can't help herself and smiles back at him. "It was a Nikon DX1. Don't you take my word for it?"

"Umm, we haven't even been properly introduced."

Well, whose fault is that? Alex decides to be civil and stretches out her hand. He takes it and holds it just a bit too long. His grip is warm and strong.

"I'm Alexandra van Oosterum." He tries to repeat it, but doesn't get the Dutch pronunciation. She laughs. "Well, guess that's why everybody calls me Alex."

"Alex... I'm really sorry that I reacted so violently in Rome. I was tired, jet lagged, I thought you were a bloody paparazzo. They're all over me lately, but still that's no excuse for my behaviour." 

She accepts his apology with a nod. "Yeah, I figured that you must have been thinking that. Made me wonder though, how many you've actually seen lying on the ground before." He shakes his head. "You don't want to know, I find them everywhere. My house is turned into a fucking fortress, with guards and dogs...They even get over my head, in choppers, you know?" He shrugs. "Guess I shouldn't be complaining, it comes with the territory." He's sitting with his elbows on his knees, legs apart, his powerful upper body leaning toward her. She notices his big hands, the thick fingers loosely holding his empty glass.

He's changing the subject, trying to keep the conversation going. "So, what were you doing in Rome? Vacation?"

"Yeah. Actually I had to be in Milan for an assignment, but had time to spare and went to Rome for an exhibition on modern Italian photography."

"Right. A professional interest?"

"Yes, and personal. I can't divide it. It's what I do. Both work and passion." She smiles at him. "Don't worry, you'd have to pay me to take yours."

He likes that, always likes people with a passion for what they do, can't imagine his own life without it. "Do you work for a magazine or agency?"

"Hmm. No. I'm independent. I do accept assignments through agencies sometimes, if the subject matter interests me. But mostly I create my own projects. You know, come up with a concept, a theme and work around that. Get my work exhibited or published."

He looks at her with appreciation. She appears independent. Self-assured and independent. Alex gets warm and uneasy under his look, thirsty too. She stands up abruptly. "Let's get something to drink."

Part 4

He follows her slowly. She sure moves nice. He can see the muscles of her tight ass move under the dress. Long legs with delicate ankles. She has done her hair up in some sort of roll, a little mole on the nape of her neck...he wouldn't mind putting his mouth right there... He feels the familiar stirring in his crotch. By the time they reach the bar, he has everything under control again. Alejandro is there with Nicole and some others.

Alex is watching Russell. He's a very attentive listener, really interested in what people have to say. Funny too, he likes to tease and joke around. They like him, she reads it in their eyes and body-language.

Russell catches the hazel eyes on his face. He smiles at her, making her blush. It delights him, he's well aware of his impact on women, uses it shamelessly to get what he wants. But this one...she intrigues him. Not only because she's beautiful and sexy. He's had plenty of beautiful women. There's something about her...

Intelligence for sure. He's not interested in stupidity, needs to be stimulated intellectually as much as physically. Strength. He likes strong women and she must be strong to have dealt with what had happened to her. Passion. He's sure that under that cool and reserved facade there's passion hidden. When she off guard, her eyes betray it. And then there's the sadness. He understands now where that is coming from. It's not on the surface, for she is having a great time, laughing a lot, but it's there. He would like to make it disappear.

Alex is surprised at  herself, she hasn't blushed in years. She really hasn't been interested in men since David. Not for want of opportunity. After his death, men initially treated her with care and respect, but gradually she'd had proposals of all kinds, none that had interested her. Nobody moved her enough.

This man is different. He exudes naked power, a rough virility that shakes her. The way he looks at her makes her feel sexy and vulnerable at the same time. There is something dangerous about him that she finds extremely exciting. He's intelligent and inquisitive. Not very patient, angers easily, she has witnessed that first hand. He's coming at her now, smiling as if he's reading her mind, very disturbing...

"Do you wanna dance?"

Does she? The thought of being so close to him is both frightening and appealing. She decides to live dangerously and accepts.

He holds her gently, not too close. His hand in the hollow of her back, thumb on her bare skin. She's very aware of him. All her senses alert. His smell, the hard muscles of his arm under her hand, the heat from his body. He's a great dancer, light on his feet, swirling her around the floor with natural ease.

When the band takes a break they walk back to the bar. He orders two beers for them and picks up the conversation. "You mentioned an assignment in Milan? Care to share?"

"Sure, it's no secret. Armani wanted me to shoot backstage at his latest show. It was really fun to do, an incredible mad-house. Really interesting too, to see all the preparations that go into a show like that. I mean I've been to his shows before, as a customer, but never backstage." She feels his eyes go over her body, clearly liking what he sees. "Mmm, I thought you were wearing one of his. Is that how you became acquainted?"

"Yes. I have known him for years. I love his clothes. We became friends."

Thinking back to his behaviour in Milan, he feels like a fool. "I behaved like an idiot toward you in Milan." She looks him straight in the eyes. "Yeah, you did. But I guess that being so over-exposed as you have been lately, must make you a little paranoid. You know, with the Gladiator hype and then your affair with..." She stops. Shit! why did she have to blabber about that.

Russell finishes the sentence for her. "With Meg. It's all right. You're right, it has been a bit much lately." She smiles at him, relieved that he's OK with that. "Doesn't it bother you, the bullshit they write about you all the time?"

"I try not to let it bother me. Try not to read it. But lately the sheer volume and ludicrous nature of what they write have taken on such proportions that it's getting harder to ignore, you know? I mean my mother reads that stuff, and every time they print something malicious, it hurts someone." She imagines that it does. He looks kind of tired, or maybe more weary than tired. "How long has it been since you had some time at home?"

"Almost seven months." Alex can't imagine not being home for such a long time. She travels a lot herself, but tries to plan enough free time to spend at her house. "How do cope with that?"

"I keep busy." He's been very busy this year, promoting one movie, shooting another. Getting a lot of recognition, winning awards. He gives her a dry smile. "You know what they say about being careful what you wish for....I would like to be home more, but it's just the way things are. I love what I do. Wouldn't want it any other way."

He lights another cigarette. Looks at her attentively while he blows out the smoke. "What do you call home?"

"I have an apartment in Amsterdam I use when I'm working, it's more like a fall-out base than a home. Home is my house on one of the Wadden Isles. It's not too big, but it's all mine. I haven't let anybody in there yet. Well, apart from the couple that looks after it when I'm away. They take care of the garden and my horse." He makes a mental note about her not letting anyone in her home. So nobody special in her life? "You ride?"

"Yes, been riding all my life. The island is just perfect for it. The coast is basically one long beach, you can ride there for hours. I love it, especially in winter, when there are no tourists around. Nothing like a north-west storm to clear the cobwebs away."

He's picturing it in his mind. A lonely figure on a freezing beach in a storm, not his cuppa tea. He likes it warm. "Sounds bloody cold to me."

She has to laugh at him. "You would probably freeze your ass off, but I'm used to it. Anyway you can dress against the cold."

"Not lonely...?"

She looks at him seriously, a shadow over her face. "Sure, sometimes, but mostly I like being there alone. Just lazing around, reading, watching a movie. I see so many people the rest of the year. It's nice to just do what you want, you know, not getting dressed up, let it all hang for a bit." He's getting vivid visuals of her not getting dressed. He looks away before she can read it in his eyes.  "So, you're not a struggling artist scraping for dimes?"

Alex thinks that's hilarious. "Oh, God, no!" More serious now. "I would hate being poor. I love my independence. I can do what I want, don't have to answer to anybody. Much to my mother's annoyance" She reaches for her glass, finds it empty. Questions him with her eyes. "You want another?" and orders two more. He loves that she drinks beer. Most women around her sip their champagne elegantly. She seems totally unaware of this unspoken 'etiquette' and drowns half her glass. When she sees the amusement in his face she raises her eyebrows. "What?"

"Nothing. Don't you get along with your folks?" Nodding at her to go on.

She smiles sardonically. "Let's say we tolerate each other. My father has only one passion in his life .... money. And my mother is too busy compensating the lack of attention with social events, always flying off to some charity event or bridge drive. I was raised by my nanny until I was old enough to go to boarding school.  I didn't know better. I thought everybody lived like we did."

He's mocking her. "So, you're a poor little rich girl." Regretting it the moment he sees her expression change.

She looks at him thoughtfully. "You can be really cruel if you want to be."

She shrugs. "But no, I have never thought of myself that way. Like I said, I didn't know any better." She looks away and when she turns back to face him the sadness is there again, making him feel miserable. "I learned when I got older."

"Alex..." He reaches out for her but she violently pushes his hand away. "Don't you dare pity me," her hazel eyes are flashing with anger. She's so beautiful, he is fighting the impulse to grab her right here and now. Realizing she would probably kick his butt if he tried. "Alex... I don't." She looks at him suspiciously. He lights two cigarettes, offers her one. "Truce?"

Alex can't resist his radiant smile, accepts the fag.  Jesus, he sure knows how to play me. "You get along with your parents?"

"Yes, I love them. They are my role models, been married for 40 years and still can't keep their hands off each other. I wouldn't settle for anything less than they have."

Alex's best friends have parents like that. She's never admitted it to anybody, but that's what she wants too. She not telling him. He surprises her. She didn't think he would be a romantic. Maybe she needs to re-evaluate her notion of him.

At that point Alejandro comes over and tells her that he would like to leave, is she coming with him? The party is ending, people are leaving. Alex never noticed. Yes. she's leaving with him.

They say goodbye to Nicole, thanking her for the great party. Russell walks out with them. Alex turns to say goodbye. "I had a wonderful time." She wants to say more, wants to find some way to see him again. But can't find the right words. She just shakes his hand.

"My pleasure, luv." He watches her intently, keeps watching as she gets into the car and drives away. He will definitely see her again, whistles when he gets back in.

Part 5

Alex is in her suite, already packing her suitcases. It's been two days since the party and she’s flying home tomorrow morning. The phone rings. It's the desk. "Mrs. van Oosterum, you have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

"It's Mr. Crowe."

Alex feels her heartbeat quicken. How did he know where to find her?  "OK. Would you ask him if he’d like to come up, please?"

She checks herself in the mirror. Shorts, top and ponytail. Charming! No time to change now. He will be here any minute. She's feeling nervous. There's the knock on her door. He's all smiles. Brought her the camera in a nice gift bag, apologising loosely for breaking the other. Alex is curious. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Oh, I just called the most expensive hotels in town." He laughs at her scowl. "Nah,  just kidding, Nicole called Alejandro for me." Then he sees the half packed suitcases. "You're leaving?"

"Well, yes I am."

He's disappointed, had hoped to have some more time. "I see....how much time do we have?"

How much time do WE have? The way he says that makes her heart jump. "My plane leaves at eight tomorrow morning."

He's looking at her. On her bare feet she barely reaches his chin. She looks like a girl with that ponytail. Nothing like the tough broad or elegant lady he's encountered before. A girl with many faces. A girl with all the right curves in all the right places. "Do you have plans for today?"

"No, just to stay on the terrace a bit, catching a bit of sun, maybe read a little..."

"Mind if I stay?" Looking at her intensely.

Jesus! What is he doing to her? "No, I'd love you to stay..."

He flashes her a radiant smile, he wasn't too worried. "Great! Don't let me keep you from...," nodding at her cases.

Alex finishes packing. So, he had Nicole call and find out for him. It makes her happy. When she gets out on the terrace, he's sitting on one of the deck chairs next to the pool. Going through the books she was planning to read. "Quite a collection you have here."  She takes the seat opposite to him. He's flipping through a large book with black and white photo's. It's a book she found yesterday. Louis Faurer's photographs from New York's street life from 1937 till 1955. "He was a great photographer, you know they called him 'the master poet of the street'?  They're quite dramatic don't you think?"

Maybe a bit too dramatic for his taste. He picks up another book. One on digital photography. Alex has to laugh at his face, going trough the highly technical dissertations. "I know, terrible isn't it? I have to force myself to go through this one. I prefer the old fashioned way, but this is the future, so I need to keep up a bit."

He smiles back at her. "Well, as long as it makes sense to you.." Picks up the next one, a well worn book. It's a novel and he knows it well. 'The Bone People' from New Zealand author Keri Hulme. It's one of his favourites. "You like this one?"

She does, loves it, loves re-reading it. "Yes, I do. I have read it many times, still discover new things every time. Still makes me cry too."

He knows, feels the same way. "Yeah, it's a heartbreaking story." The next book is in Dutch. He looks up at her. "I keep forgetting English is not your first language, you speak like a native. How come you're so good at it?"

Alex is laughing. "Guess I didn't have much of a choice. Dutch isn't exactly a world  language, you know. But seriously, we have a pretty good school system, where you have to learn at least two foreign languages. And of course I went to boarding school in England, that helped. It comes easy to me, I speak six languages, more or less fluently."

She keeps surprising him. "Really? What are they?"

"Well, my own of course, and German, English, French, Italian and Spanish."

He lets out a soft whistle. "Smart lady... Is that what you did after high school, study languages?"

"No, I went to art school. Majored in art history and photography."

He gives her wry smile. "I barely finished high school. It bored me. I was more fascinated by film sets. My parents used to cater for them, I’ve been around them since age 5."

"Didn't you ever feel like going to art school?"

"No. I met Dean in high school and we just got into music together. I did some odd jobs to survive, you know, waiting tables and stuff. We were back in New Zealand at the time. Dean and I were buskin in the streets." He smiles at the memory. "We had a great time. I was always searching for ways to be creative , finally landed a part in a local production of 'Grease'. And thanks to that I got into The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Got back to OZ with them, and that's, my dear, how it all started." Making funny faces at her. "Life educated me."

She has to laugh, raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm sure it did. So you and Dean have been friends for what? 20 years?"

"Close, about 18 years, best mates."

They just sit there, both with their own thoughts. Not talking for a while. Comfortable silence. Alex realizes that she hasn't offered him anything to drink or eat. She checks her watch. "It's about lunch time. Would you like anything to eat, drink?"

Yeah, he would like something, he likes to eat. Alex gets up and rings room service. Orders two different cold plates and a bottle of Chardonnay. Lunch is served about twenty minutes later. One plate a lobster risotto, with sweet, tender claw meat, fresh vegetables, basil and lemon. The second, chicken breast  stuffed with aromatic goat cheese and shiitake mushrooms. Plates in the middle of the table, for them to choose from, toast and butter on the side.

After lunch, Russell gets comfortable. Arms behind his head, long legs stretched out, looking very much at home and relaxed. Looking way too good for her peace of mind. "Have you been in LA before?"

"Nope, first time."

"So, did you do the sights?"

She smiles, remembering her visit to one of LA's most troubled neighbourhoods. She doesn't think that would qualify as 'seeing the sights' for him. "Not exactly. I went to South Central."

A fierce feeling of over-protectiveness rushes through him, he can't believe she did that. "Have you lost your fucking mind? You can't just walk around South Central."

She looks at him coolly. "Give me some credit. I may be a spoiled brat in your eyes, but I'm a professional and I didn't just walk in. Before I came here, I contacted Gil Sanchez from the Brown Institute. He's the project director of a gang violence project. He came with me, showed me around the neighbourhood, introduced me to people."

There she's doing it again, daring him, not backing down. "Well, I'm sure they were honoured, having you show 'interest' in their lives." He's sarcastic, questioning her motives.

She's taken aback by that. Where did this mood come from? She's determined not to let him make her angry. "Actually Sanchez questioned me before he agreed to help me. I wasn't there to snoop around their troubles, or pretending that I'm making a social statement with my pictures. I was there to find faces that tell a story, the same way I did up-town, nothing more. I collect interesting faces all over the world, irrespective of social background, race or culture. Of course, it's the combination of these elements that make the faces interesting in the first place, but I'm not interested in stereo-types. I just try to capture the essence of the face I see in my lens." She makes a frustrated gesture. "It's hard to explain, maybe you will see them one day, understand better."  Looks at him seriously. "Anyway, I don't know why I'm defending myself to you. You seem to be jumping to conclusions about me pretty fast. And you don't know the first thing about me, or my work. So just get off your high horse, will ya?"

He's taking her in. Her serious face, with the little frown above the hazel eyes. Her stubborn chin. The way she’s using her hands when she's talking. He could easily like her a lot. He had been thinking of trying to get her in bed, but maybe he should take it slow. See what surprises she has in store. He smiles at her. "OK. Point taken. And I would like to see your pictures some day."

Hmm. Close enough. She keeps looking at him. "Is there anything else you'd like to grill me about?"

"Uh-uh...I think maybe not for a while, not with you looking ready to bite my head off.."

"OK. How about a swim?" She gestures at the pool. It's still very warm and she could use some cooling off.

He doesn't mind, likes to swim. "Didn't bring any trunks though." He has a way with his voice that makes her blush again.

With flaming cheeks she's daring him. "Don't tell me you mind wetting your briefs, that is if you're wearing any..."

He throws his head back, laughing hard. "No worries, luv. I do."

She goes back in, to change into a swimsuit. She goes through her suitcase. She has two suits with her. One rather petite bikini and a one piece suit. She picks the latter. She's not going to parade in front of him half naked.

Russell is already in the pool, sitting on the steps, in his boxer briefs. When she steps out, he's relieved that his lower body is already in the cool water. Her suit doesn't leave much to imagination. Accentuating her long legs and tight little ass, her flat tummy and firm breasts...

Alex diverts her eyes. He's beautiful. Powerful build with heavy muscles, a golden tan, just the right amount of hair on his chest and tummy.... She dives in, lets the water cool her down. She swims a couple of rounds, with long strong strokes. Russell joins her, keeping up easily.

He gets out and brings back their glasses. They sit on the pool steps, talking. He finds it so easy to talk to her, as if he's known her all his life. He tells her about the farm. About the cows. Making her laugh with crazy stories about how the cows come to him when he calls them. Talks about his dogs, his horse Honey....Talks about his work, sharing anecdotes from the set. He's a born storyteller. She loves his voice. Low and resonant, she could listen to him all day.

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Just as Alex is wondering if she should ask him to stay for dinner, he beats her to it. "Alex, have dinner with me tonight? We could go out, go to a club, go dancing..."

"Can you move about freely? Or would that mean that we will be stalked by the press all night?"

He looks at her seriously. "It's possible. Once we're inside, we're OK, but you never know who will be lurking in the bushes."

She's going over that in her mind. Doesn't really like to  be plastered all over the media. He sees her dilemma. "We could have dinner in my room."

In his room. Alone with him all night in his room. Tempting and dangerous. She will have to keep a clear head. Not that she doesn't trust him. He would never do anything she wouldn't want, she's sure about that. It's more that she doesn't trust herself. But tomorrow she's flying home and God knows when she will see him again, if ever. She makes up her mind. "Yes, I would love that." Earning her a warm smile. "Sweet!"

Part 6

Her suitcases are practically unpacked again. Alex is having a hard time making up her mind what to wear. Nothing too formal, but also not too casual. Nothing too sexy, she doesn't want him to think she up for grabs. She's been contemplating the possibility of making love to him. Had to take a cold shower. He's the first man that she's attracted to since David. It's just that she doesn't want a casual affair. She needs something more substantial. They live on opposite sides of the globe. His life is impossible, on the road most of the time, in the spotlights all the time. It scares her. Better not get burned.

Finally she decides on light khaki linen trousers and a simple white linen top. Her hair in a loose roll, pearl earrings, little gloss on her lips. She looks cool and feminine, just right.

Russell has arranged dinner to be on the terrace. The view is stupendous from here. He's made a selection of light dishes, so she can choose, some bottles of dry white on ice.

He's asked them to keep the table sober. Not too romantic. Same goes for the lightning. He doesn't want her to feel as if she’s walking into the lion's den. He has made the decision not to hit on her tonight. He knows she attracted to him, and he sure as hell is to her, but she could be the one and he wants to be sure before he makes his move.

Alex likes what he did. She notices the effort he's made not to overdo it. She likes his food choices, the wine and most of all his company. He looks gorgeous, again. Dressed in dark trousers and a light blue shirt that seems to make his eyes more blue than green tonight. He's very relaxed, making her feel at ease. Talkative, telling her all sorts of stories about his childhood, his friendship with Dean, the band and of course the farm. She can tell he's homesick.

He's talking about the differences for him being on OZ-talk shows or American ones.

"I'm so much more at home there. I've known most of the hosts for years and years. I know what I can expect from them, know they're not out to trick me, you know. It's more in good fun. Like when Ray asked me all those silly questions about the alleged women in my life? He even had Fergie in there, that threw me, we had a big laugh about that."

Alex wonders how it is possible that this incredible man hasn't been snatched and dragged to the altar. "How come you’ve never been married?"

He looks at her seriously, gives her wry smile. "Well, to begin with it takes two. I have been in some serious relationships, but with my day job it always ended up in saying 'goodbye' more than 'hello'. I can't expect a woman to give up all she wants to do to be with me, and I won't settle for a part time marriage. I told you about my parents. I mean it when I say I want what they have. Guess I just haven't met the right girl yet."

He can't expect women to give it up, but it's what he would want. He's practically saying it. "Suppose you did meet her, would you consider working less? Spend more time at home? I mean, if you want children, I suppose you'd want to be around when they grow up?"

"Absolutely! By the time they would need to go to school, I would be there, you know, waiting at the gate. Till then, I would take them with me, on location." He sips his wine, looks at her with a frown between his eyes. "How did you and David cope? I mean, I know you didn't have kids. But with him performing all over the world....Did you go with him?"

His question takes her back in time. It seems so long ago, almost two years now.  "I did go with him as much as possible. I loved that. Loved his music, his friends. There was always a wonderful atmosphere, you know, in the concert halls, the theatres. So many driven and talented people. Very stimulating. When he was rehearsing or recording I usually went my own way. But that's the beauty of my work. I can do that anywhere. I'm not bound to a particular place, as long as I have some place to call home."

She takes a deep breath. "But you have to understand, with David, it wasn't what I would now call a mature relationship, you know? Not like your mom and dad. David was the kid in our marriage, I don’t think he even wanted children of his own, I don't think he wanted that kind of competition. And I'm talking about before he got sick." She stops, looks away, out over the splendid view of the city.

He reached over the table and touched her hand. Makes her look at him. "Alex, don't you want to talk about what happened?"

Does she? She hasn't talked about David to too many people. Not really. Most avoid the subject and she never volunteers. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just I hardly ever do. Most people never ask about him, makes them uncomfortable I guess."

"I'm asking."  His green-blue eyes fixed on her face.

She takes a deep breath. "We met in Rome. I was staying with friends of the family. My parents used to send me over for what they like to call my 'cultural education', and David was there too. I fell in love with him, with his music. When David played the violin...it was Divine. I mean literally....ethereal....like he was touched by the hand of God.... He was so beautiful". She looks away, tries to keep the emotion out of her voice. "But he must have been sick even then. I thought it was just his passion, you know? To be that talented, that passionate,  it must have been a burden."

She looks at him with infinite sadness. "He had these terrible mood changes. And when he was down, he was so depressed. You know, he told me once that it felt as if someone had put a dark blanket of despair over him. She takes a sip of her wine, finds that her hand is shaking a bit. "When it got worse, he was finally diagnosed with a chemical imbalance in his brain. Low levels of serotonin. They prescribed Prozac. He hated the drugs, they gave him incredible headaches and nightmares. Made him indifferent, lethargic...he couldn't work anymore."

Russell listens to her attentively, finding it difficult to see her so sad. "That must have been hard on you, how did you cope?"

"As best as I could. Badly at times, I suppose. I wanted so much to help him, but when he was low, nobody could reach him, not even me. He stopped using the drugs. I didn't know. Life without music was no life to him. He chose the darkness over the numbness. His doctors tried to explain to me what that must have done to him. Tried to explain the despair he must have felt....before he...." Alex has to stop. Her throat choked with emotions. Russell offers her a cigarette, they smoke in silence.

"How did you learn about his death?"

"I was the one who found him."

He's shocked. Fuck, he does know how to get his foot in it.  "Oh, God, Alex....I'm so sorry..."

She inhales deeply. "I got home from a ..... I got home and he was there. Hanging from the banisters of our staircase, halfway down the hall. He had used a curtain-cord. I remember so vividly, the shiny tassel between his feet." She's close to tears.

"I was partying, you know. I had to leave the house, it was so depressing. I left for Paris, to join a party,  I was having fun, dancing and laughing ....." She's breathing hard trying to control her emotions. "I left him all alone when he needed me most, and he killed himself...." For the first time since his death she really breaks down. Her head in her hands, her body convulsing with sobs.

Russell gets up from the table and gently picks her up in his arms. He carries her inside, sits down in a big armchair and holds her in his lap. His arms tightly wrapped around her. "It's all right baby, let it all out."

Alex is crying like she never has in her life. Finally crying for David, for his despair. Crying for herself, her loss and her guilt. Now that the barrier is broken, she can't stop it anymore. Two years of repression flowing out of her. Russell just holds her close, stroking her hair, her back, letting her cry.

Slowly Alex calms down. Her tears dry, her breath eases. She stays close to him. Allows him to comfort her. It feels so good to be held by him. His strong arms around her so gently, his hands stroking her, she could easily loose herself. At long last she looks up at him. He loosens his grip. Looks at her with concerned eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, thank you." She looks at his shirt. "You're all wet. I have been blubbering all over you."

"No worries, it's nothing, it will dry again."

Alex gently pushes away from him. "I need to wash my face, blow my nose."

She goes to the bathroom. Sees herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes and face all red and puffy. She splashes cold water on her face. Lets the cold water stream on her wrists for a while, looking at her image. Half expecting to see another woman in there. She feels so different. Liberated. Exhausted too.

He's leaning at the terrace railing, smoking, trying to get his feelings under control. He knew he wanted her, but wasn't prepared for the force of his reaction to having her in his arms. Part of him just wanted to take her right there and then, his better part, he smiles wryly at himself, his better part just wanted to protect her for ever. He needs to get it back under control before she comes out again.

When she gets out of the bathroom, he sees the exhaustion on her face. She walks over to him and he hugs her. "Alex, I'm going to take you back to your hotel. You need to sleep. You look so tired, luv."

He's right, she is. And her plane is leaving in a few hours.

He walks her up to her room, opens the door with her key and gently pushes her inside. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want him to go. "Russ..."

He gives her another hug, tilts her head up to look at him. "I promise we will see each other again soon." He bends his head and kisses her, slowly taking in her upper lip. "Take care, luv." And he's gone, leaving her all shaken and confused.

Part 7

Alex is at her Amsterdam apartment, in her darkroom. Developing the pictures she took in Los Angeles. The magic of seeing the images emerge for the first time still delights her. She's very happy with the results, there are some truly  wonderful portraits between them.

She's feeling better than she has done in years, being able to sleep without nightmares. Ever since her return from Los Angeles there is a lightness in her touch, a warmth in her smile, that wasn't there before.

The only drawback is the relationship with her mother. Apparently Alex's mother feels that it's time her daughter should marry again. Turning Alex into her newest charity. Every time Alex is invited for dinner at her parents place, there just 'happens' to be a suitor present. The third time it happens, she's purposefully rude and walks out.

She just got off the phone with her. Her mother is demanding she apologizes, not only to her but also to the man in question. Alex just hung up on her. The phone rings again. "Verdomme, moeder, ik heb gezegd dat je me met rust moet laten!"

It stays quiet at the other end. Then a dark voice. "Uh-uh, caught ya at a bad moment did I, luv?"

Russell! Her heart sings like crazy. "Russell! No, I'm sorry, just thought you were my mother giving me a hard time again..."

"Well, didn't understand a word, but you sure sounded pissed off." He's laughing. She realizes how much she has missed hearing his low chuckle. "I was, actually, telling her to get off