No Makeup

He watched her as she approached him.  Beautiful with the face of an angel.  She made his heart sing and his eyes dance.  Her hair fell in luxuriant waves over her slender shoulders, cover most of her arms and the top she was wearing.  She looked like a mermaid walking on earth.  He stood there, arms folded, just watching her.  A broad smile broke on his face when she stopped, folded her arms and watched him.

It was his cue to go to her.  He quickly closed the distance between them.  It was when he was standing in front of her, that he noticed the makeup.  It was the first time since he knew her that she wore it.  Bright red lipstick, blush and eyeliner.  His expression became very serious.  “What have you done to your face?” he asked quietly.

“I wanted to look beautiful for you,” she replied.

“You don’t need makeup for that,” he told her.  “Here, let me take it off.”  He took out his handkerchief and gently rubbed off the blush and the lipstick.  “Much better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “My girlfriends told me that makeup enhances women’s looks, making them appear more attractive in the eyes of others.”

He stuffed his kerchief in the back pocket of his jeans and held her face between his hands.  “It was your fresh, scrubbed clean face that I fell in love with,” he told her.  “You don’t makeup to bring out those amazing eyes of yours or the natural glow of your cheeks or the shape of your mouth.”

She smiled up at him.  He always said the most romantic things to her.  Right now her heart was fluttering and she was more in love with him than ever.  “No makeup then,” she said.

He smiled.  “No makeup.”  He lowered his head and kissed her.  Her lips tasted sweet and he drank them like they were nectar.  These are the lips that I want to kiss for the rest of my life.

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The Ball

Monica was walking on the immaculate grounds of Whitmore Manor where her friend and co-worker Alex invited her to spend the afternoon.  It was the day before the annual charity ball and already there was a sense of excitement and anticipation in the air.  This was to be her first one since she only started working with Alex in autumn of last year.

As she pondered over what to expect, her gaze drank in the beautiful landscape which spread before and around her.  She was so caught up in her surroundings that she didn’t notice the tall man heading towards her until she almost ran into him.

Her eyes flew up from his broad chest to his face.  Her breath caught in her throat when she found herself looking into classic handsome features.  Dark, wavy hair, dark brown eyes, chiseled nose and his lips…she realized that they were moving which meant he was saying something.  She pulled herself together.

“I–I’m sorry,” she apologized.  “I was so busy admiring the place that I didn’t see you until a moment ago.”

His eyes were riveted to her face.  “And, you are?”

She held out her hand.  “I’m Monica.  I’m here because of Alex.”

“Jared.”  He grasped her hand.  “Does he know you are here?”

“Yes.  He brought me here to spend a quiet afternoon.”

“Where is he?  He’s not a very good host leaving you out here by yourself.”

“He didn’t mean to desert me,” she said, trying to act calm when her heart was racing.  Jared was staring at her with those penetrating eyes of his and he was still holding her hand.  “He had to run an errand and said that he would be back shortly.”

He released her hand then and shoved both of his in the pockets of his trousers.  “So, how long have Alex and you known each other?” he asked.

She put her hands behind her back.  “September will make it a year,” she said.

“You’re different from his other girlfriends,” he noted as he studied her face.

She was about to tell him that she was not Alex’s girlfriend when Alex himself showed up.

He came from behind Jared.  He grinned at Monica.  “I see you have met my big brother,” he told her.  He turned to Jared.  “Thank you for taking care of Monica while I was gone.”

Jared inclined his head.  “It was my pleasure,” he said before his gaze shifted to Monica.  “It was nice meeting you.”

She smiled at him.  “It was nice meeting you too.”

“Excuse me.”  He turned and walked away.  Monica was sorry to see him go.

When they were alone, she turned to Alex, “He thinks I’m your girlfriend,” she told him, looking very displeased.  “What gave him that impression?”

“Well, the only women I brought here to meet Mother and Jared were the ones I dated so when he met you, he naturally assumed that you were my current girlfriend.”  He looked at her.  “Does it bother you that he thinks that we are dating?”

“Yes, it does.”

Alex groaned.  “Don’t tell me that you have fallen for his dark, brooding looks too.”

“Is that why you never mentioned to me that you even had a brother?”

“It must have slipped my mind.  Anyway, let’s talk about something else.  Are you all set for the ball tomorrow evening?  I won’t be able to bring you, I’m afraid.  I have to be here, greeting the guests.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.  I’ve never been to a ball before.  Is everyone going to be there?”

“By everyone, you mean Jared.  Yes, he’ll be there–he and his brooding looks which always seems to attract the ladies.”

Monica looked at him.  “Do I detect a little bit of jealousy?”

Alex sighed.  “Yes, I am jealous and have been since we were children.  He was always getting the attention and the girls.  That hasn’t changed.  Just once I would like to find a woman who will be immune to his charms and prefer me instead.”

Monica tucked her arm in his and gave him an encouraging smile.  “I’m sure you will find such a woman.  Now, this woman would like a tour of the grounds, if you don’t mind.”

He smiled.  “It would be my pleasure.”

It was the night of the ball and she entered the room, her eyes wide with wonder as she espied the magnificent room and the beautiful decorations.  When Alex saw her, he whistled.  He was standing by the entrance receiving the guests with his mother and Jared.  She was wearing a strapless cream chiffon gown and her hair was swept up exposing her long, slender neck.   “You look amazing,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled.  “Thank you.”  Her gaze shifted to Jared who was staring at her.  He looked absolutely gorgeous in his black tuxedo.  Even in her heels, she had to tilt her head back to look up at him.  “Hello, Jared,” she said shyly.

“Hello, Monica,” was his quiet reply.  He had a curious expression on his face.  “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to be here.”  She lingered there for a moment before she moved reluctantly away.  She could feel his eyes on her as she greeted his mother.  The older woman beamed at her.  “You look lovely, my Dear,” she said.  “I am delighted that you could come.  I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Monica smiled.  “Thank you, I will.”  She moved on, taking in the atmosphere, the people.  She saw a few of her co-workers milling about and she joined them.  At dinner time, she sat at the same table with the Whitmore family.  She was seated next to Alex and opposite Jared.  Every now and then, she raised her eyes to look at him and found him already looking at her.  Each time their eyes met, she felt her heart race.  No one else seemed to notice.

The food was amazing and afterwards, there was dancing.  She danced a couple of dances with Alex who was in very high spirits.  Then, as she was about to follow Alex back to the table, Jared barred her.  “Dance with me,” he said and wordlessly, she acquiesced.   Her heart did a somersault when he pulled her to him and they moved to the music.

He was a terrific dancer and his movements were fluid.  She was acutely aware of his hand in the small of her back, their bodies inches apart.  He smelled really good.  It felt wonderful dancing with him and she wished that it would last.  At one point she looked up at him and he was looking down at her.  His eyes were dark and smoldering and a muscle throbbed along his jaw line.  They didn’t say anything but the moment was charged as their attraction for each other was palpable.  She saw his gaze lower to her lips and they parted.

“Mind if I cut in?” Alex’s intrusive voice startled her and she felt Jared release her.  Then she was in Alex’s arms and he swirled her away as Jared walked stiffly off the dance floor.  For the rest of the night, Alex tended to her and she didn’t have a chance to dance with Jared again.  She left the ball feeling frustrated, especially after his cold manner toward her when they said goodnight to each other.

She tossed and turned all night and in the morning, she decided that she would go over to Whitmore Manor and straighten things out with him.  She couldn’t let him continue to believe that Alex and she were dating.  Last night it might have seemed that way, though.  She let Alex have it last night when he was driving her home.  He was sorry and he told her to drop by the manor and talk to Jared.

She finished her breakfast, showered and pulling on a pair of dress jeans and a yellow top, she left her condo.  She took the train from London to Surrey and then a short taxi ride to Whitmore Manor.  The place seemed quiet—she supposed it was because it was a Sunday morning.  She hoped Mrs. Whitmore wouldn’t mind her dropping by unexpectedly.  She ran up the steps leading to the front door and rang the bell.  As she waited she looked over at the spot where she first met Jared.  How handsome he looked that day in his denim jacket over a black shirt and tan colored trousers.

The door opened and the butler stood there.  “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.  Is Mr. Jared Whitmore at home?” she asked.

“He is but he gave strict instructions not to be disturbed.  Perhaps, you would like to see Mrs. Whitmore, instead.  She’s in the drawing-room.”

“Yes, thank you.” The man stepped aside to let her into the foyer.  He took her to the drawing-room and after informing Mrs. Whitmore that she had a visitor, he left.

Monica went over to the armchair where the woman was seated.  “Good morning, Mrs. Whitmore.”

Mrs. Whitmore smiled when she saw her.  “Good morning, Dear.  How nice of you to drop by this morning.  Did you have a good time at the ball last night?”

Monica nodded.  “I did.”

“It was an extremely good turn out and I believe that this year we received more donations.”

“Mrs. Whitmore, I came to see Jared but was told that he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Mrs. Whitmore sighed.  “He’s been cooped up in the study all morning.  Can’t imagine what he’s doing in there.  He hasn’t had any breakfast.  I have a good mind to send a tray in to him.  You know, that’s exactly what I will do.”  She pulled the cord beside her.  “He needs to eat something.”

“Mrs. Whitmore, do you mind if I take it to him?”

“No, not at all.  You may be a welcome distraction.”

A few minutes later a maid appeared and Mrs. Whitmore asked her to prepare a tray for Mr. Whitmore and to bring it to the drawing-room.  As they waited, Monica and Mrs. Whitmore exchanged pleasantries and spoke of the ball.

Then, the maid went in carrying the tray.  “Thank you, Janet,” Mrs. Whitmore said. “Set it on the table over there.”  Janet did so and left the room.

Monica went and took it up.  She went to the door but stopped, unsure of where to go.

“The study is down the hall here and on your right.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore,” she said gratefully before she departed.

Her heart thudded with every step as she went down the hallway.  She set the tray down on the floor, opened the door and pushed it open.  She took up the tray and went inside.  She stood at the door.  Jared was sitting at the desk backing the door but when he heard it open, he said.  “I gave strict instructions not to be disturbed.  I don’t take kindly to having my orders disobeyed…” his voice trailed off when he swung the chair around and saw her standing there.  “What are you doing here?”

She stood there, unsure of what to do next.  He was standing now, his expression guarded.  “I brought this tray for you.  Your mother said you haven’t eaten.  She’s concerned about you.”

His gaze shifted to the tray and then back to her.  “So, she sent you with it instead of sending Janet?”

“I offered,” she told him.   “I needed to speak to you.”

“Set it on the table over there.   What do you need to speak to me about?”

“It’s about Alex and me…”

His expression darkened at once and he dragged his fingers through his hair.  “Never once in all of my years have I ever been jealous of my brother.  Not even when I see how our mother continues to pamper him as if he were still a child, but that all changed when I met you.”

She stared at him.  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking confused.

“I am jealous of him because of you, Monica.  From the moment we met, I wanted you.  That’s why I said that you were different from his other girlfriends.  I was never attracted to any of them.  You were different because I was immediately and deeply attracted to you.  Last night at the ball, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.  I watched you dancing with him and wished that I was the one dancing with you. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer and that’s why I asked you to dance with me.  The way you felt in my arms…” he closed his eyes at the memory.  “It felt so right.  I asked myself how could something that felt so right be wrong.  I wanted to kiss you so badly but just then, Alex came and claimed you and I had no choice but to step aside.  I watched you with him for the rest of the night, kicking myself for falling for a woman who belonged to someone else.”

It took a moment for Monica to answer because she was stunned.  She couldn’t believe what she just heard.  “Jared, I don’t belong to Alex,” she told him.  “He and I are just friends who happen to work together.  When you and I met, you assumed that I was another one of his many girlfriends and when I tried to clear up that misunderstanding, Alex joined us.”

“My brother has a knack for interrupting at the most inopportune moment.”

She took a step closer.  “That’s why I came here this morning, Jared.  To clear things up.  I couldn’t go on letting you believe that I was in a relationship with Alex when I am not.  Alex knows how I feel about you.  He knew it since the first time I met you.”

Jared moved around the desk so that he was standing in front of her.  “How do you feel about me?” he asked, his expression tense.  His hands were at his sides, aching to hold her.

“I never thought it was possible but when I met you it was love at first sight,” she said, her feelings unguarded.

He pulled her into his arms then and he muttered, “I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you and I felt like a heel because of Alex.  That’s why I have been cooped up in here all morning.  I was sitting here, thinking about you and feeling guilty.  And now that I know Alex and you are not romantically involved, I feel like a guilty man who has been granted a reprieve.”

She reached up and cupped his face between her hands.  “You have no reason to feel guilty anymore,” she said, “We are both free and we both know what we want…”

“Yes,” he groaned and his head swooped down.  His mouth closed passionately over hers.

She sighed and closed her eyes as she responded to the kiss which she had been dreaming of since last night at the ball.

Source:  Trainline

No Hitting

I don’t think there is anything particularly wrong in hitting a woman, though I don’t recommend you do it the same way that you hit a man.  An openhanded slap is justified–if all other alternatives fail and there has been plenty of warning – Sean Connery
Man-hitting-womanJust recently I was watching Turner Classic Movies (TCM) with my son and we saw the trailer for the movie, Too Late for Tears.  There was a scene where Dan Duryea slapped Lizabeth Scott.  I turned to him and I said, “A man should never hit a woman.”  And he nodded in agreement.  Then, I added, “And a woman should never hit a man.”

Some time ago, there was a commercial where a woman slapped her boyfriend because she thought he was watching an attractive woman as she walked by a parked car.  It turned out that he was admiring the car.  My manager objected to the commercial because he thought it was wrong to have the woman slap the man.  I guess others agreed with him because when I saw that commercial again, the scene with the slap was no longer there.

I don’t think a man should ever hit a woman.  In From Russia With Love, there was a scene with James Bond and Tatiana Romanova where he grabbed her and dragged her to her feet, his expression thunderous because he thought she was lying to him.  He was gripping her tightly by the arms and when she told him that he was hurting her, he threatened that he would do worse.  And he did by giving her a backhanded slap across the face, sending her reeling backwards.  Thankfully, she lands on the bed.  I read online that Sean Connery said he never hit or would ever hit a woman but that there are times when hitting one is justified.  He said if a woman were hysterical or a b—, then it was okay for a man to hit her.  “It’s not the worst thing to slap a woman now and then.” In his interview with Barbara Walters, Connery argued that if you’re having an argument and you’re trying to get the last word in and the woman won’t let you have it…then “it’s absolutely right.”  I guess if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t have a problem with his son-in-law slapping her if she got out of hand.

Interestingly, Roger Moore who also played 007, revealed that he suffered domestic violence at the hands of two of his former wives.  His first wife repeatedly punched and scratched him and also threw a teapot at him.  She even punched the doctor who treated him for the slash on his hand.  His second wife was also violent and attacked him after learning he had been unfaithful.  It doesn’t come as a surprise that Roger Moore didn’t enjoy filming a particular scene in Man With the Golden Gun.  It was of James Bond twisting the arm of Andrea Anders behind her back, and threatening to break it unless she told him what he wanted to know. Roger felt that Bond would have instead charmed the information out of her.  I agree.

I read this article by Todd Dunn and thought I would share it.  He gives 4 good reasons for a man to hit a woman and 5 bad reasons.  Then, he makes it clear, that it is never justifiable for a man to hit a woman.

woman-hitting-man-300x124What about a woman hitting a man?  Is it ok for her to do that?  In my opinion, it is never right for any woman to hit a man.  In the article, Women: hitting your man is not cute; it’s abuse, it was noted that pop culture gives the impression it is cute, funny, empowering or even sexy when women hit men.  “The casual female on male violence that we accept on our screens is also sexist, as it presumes that women cannot do men any real harm. The size of bruises and the amount of blood spilled is not the only way one measures the effect of violence, as any man or woman who has been belittled or controlled or intimidated by their partner will tell you.”

I wonder how sympathetic people, particularly women, would be toward men who admit that they have been hit by their girlfriends or wives.  Would they ask, “What did you do?” or assume, “you must have done something to deserve it.”  Would an abused woman have to deal with this question or assumption?  Hitting, slapping, punching, abuse is wrong, regardless of gender.  There are other better and healthier ways to deal with conflict.  When things start to get too heated, walk away or go and let off some steam in the gym or go for a walk or jog to cool your head.  Don’t use each other as a punching bag.

I saw this quote on HealthyPlace:   “A woman should never invest in a relationship she wouldn’t want for her daughter, nor allow any man to treat her in a way she could scold her son for.”

I think it should apply to men too.  “A man should never invest in a relationship he wouldn’t want for his son nor allow any woman to treat him in a way he could scold his daughter for.”  Both men and women deserve to be in loving and healthy relationships.

 

Source:  The Telegraph

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