CHAPTER 51
"Anybody home?" Morgan tapped lightly on the door of room 109.
Inside, there was a shuffle of sounds. A teacup being placed back on a saucer, a remote grappled, music turned down. A muffled cough, a few seconds of silence. Then, the door opened and, instantly, it was as if everything stopped and the two faces staring at each other through the sliver of the partially open door were the only two faces within 1000 miles. Morgan stood transfixed, absorbing the collection of things that encircled his view: the number on the door, the access-card reader on the wall, the room furnishings. And in the centre of it all, the same dazzling smile and ocean blue eyes he bid farewell weeks ago on the other side of the
world, looked up and held him.
"Hello, you," she said eventually, her voice soft and gentle. Arena too was studying his eyes; the familiar deep pools of green and brown with the dark specks that were the chapter references to his life. "Am I allowed a hug?"
"Well, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said lamely. "It's important that..."
Arena opened the door fully, stepped forward, grasped him by the lapels of his coat, pulled him into her room and threw her arms around him. Morgan gazed into her eyes moistening with tears. He leaned down into her and circled his arms around her waist as she closed around him instantly. Her hands flicked through the hair that sat on his collar, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing her face against his. He'd forgotten how good she felt, and immersed himself in the physical sensation of her body pushed up hard against his. Arena stood on her toes and nestled herself into his neck. Morgan smelled her hair and tightened his hold. She responded. Her thighs inched forward until she was completely pressed against him. It lasted just a few more seconds, but it was enough. Their bodies perfectly aligned, meshed, neither wanting to let go.
"So good to see you," she whispered.
"You too," Morgan replied, breathing in again. "Ari, I..."
Slowly, she peeled herself away, but remained close, looking up at him. Her arms were still clasped about his neck. She straightened his collar. Morgan did not want the moment, the contact, to end. He kept his hands around her waist and held her gaze.
"What are you grinning about, Morgan?" she asked.
"Nothing," he smiled. "Just well, you look spectacular. There, I've said it."
She beamed back at him and slowly released her grip. She took him by
the hand, closing the hotel door behind them. The moment had passed, but was not lost.
The room was furnished in standard four-star fare, Morgan noted, as they settled on a comfortable sofa. A ri was fluffing about distractedly with various bits of female paraphernalia scattered close by, before finally curling her legs up under her at the other end of the same sofa. Morgan noticed a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo on the side table. He'd once told her it was his favourite. Arena Halls remained as beautiful and inscrutable as he had remembered.
She wore lightweight grey track shorts and a fitted pale pink t-shirt with what looked like a 50's image stretched tightly across her breasts. Her feet were in anklet sports socks and she wore no jewelry or make-up.
"Don't they let you wear anything else?" she chided, gesturing at his suit. "It must get pretty uncomfortable, especially for someone who prefers jeans."
"Ah, nice of you to remember. I am working, you know." Morgan saw her bristle. Did he intend that as a barb? He tried to recover. "I always keep jeans within easy reach." It didn't work.
"Alex..." She shifted on the sofa and, gathering her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them. "There've been things happening in my life. Not just work things. Personal things."
"You don't have to explain," he said. "I get it. Wrong time, wrong place. Happens to lots of people."
"It's not like that, Alex." She could see that he wanted to know, but he was clearly not in the right frame of mind. Things had been so incredible with him in Spain, so perfect. He had been kind, thoughtful. But then it was time to go back home, back to work, back to her life before Malfajiri, before Alex Morgan. "There are things you should know, but not now. With everything else that's been going on - Malfajiri, Johnson, this man Cornell, gun-runners, all the death and destruction..." The tears formed rivulets upon the soft down of her cheeks and she clutched her knees even more tightly to her body. "It's all too much. In the middle of it all, you came into my life. And even that's complicated. You're a bloody INTREPID agent. For God's sake! I can't understand why this is happening. I need time to make sense of it all, but time isn't something I have right now. I have to be here, stuck in the middle of all this. Can you try to understand?"